Recoil: Chapter 5, Proposition
The actual drawing of my blood had only taken about 8 minutes, a small prick and some numbness, but that was all. Afterwards, rather than beaten down a hall, I was escorted up a few story levels, to a very pleasant looking room, complete with a plush bed, polished cherry wood shelves lined with what looked like stainless steel bars. "Well this is a step up from this morning..." I softly said while awing at my new found suite. I stood in the center of the room, and turned back to the women in white who brought me here, "thank you, I like what I see." She smiled faintly, "Your welcome, Mr. Windsnarle has left you a letter on the nightstand," my eyes flicked to the bed for a moment, "And he wished me to inform you that though very luxurious, this room is designed to contain, so I wouldn't think about leaving so soon." She finished in a sickly sweet voice. Well, better than a stasis chamber I suppose. "Sounds like he likes me." I said grinning. She turned and left without another word. Oddly enough, I felt good, like I had some mission I needed to do. That and I felt like some undercover spy.
I rubbed my chest as I walked to the nightstand, eager to see what other business ol' Windsnarle had in store for me. But, before I bent over to retrieve it, I felt a small metal, "H" shaped object stuck in my chest. I stopped walking and put a claw to it, immediately it became tender to touch. Thinking back to what it may be, I mentally kicked myself for not removing the Tasers metal prongs earlier. I pulled it out after some stinging, and flicked the thing to a corner. I picked up the very fine looking, Silver lined letter paper and opened it to read the printed letters: "Once you have settled in, I have a guest and a proposition for you. Be in my top floor suite at 6:30, a fine dinner will be served as well, my regards, Jacob Windsnarle."
I refolded it and thought for a moment. A dinner and a meeting didn't seem too risky. I walked around the room some more, familiarizing myself with the layout of the suite. The far wall was no wall at all, it was one large pane of polarized glass, and to my keen eyes, I could see everything for miles. Then it hit me, I knew where I was at least. California. Southern part. I could see the Pacific Ocean far off through the haze of the mid-day. I looked down, and I almost lost my balance. The sheer height of the building was astonishing, I had to be at least one thousand feet above the distant ground. Turning my disorientated self around, I continued my self-touring, Taking note of door placement (which from what I could see, there were only 2, one for the entrance, one for the bathroom.) as well as ceiling height, distance from the walls to the entrance, even testing the weight of certain objects. Why I was doing this? I haven't a clue; it just came to me naturally. The only part of the room so far that could match the majestic qualities of the view was the bathroom. A shower that was illuminated by unseen rainbow flowing LEDs, and a bath tub that looked like my stasis chamber, only on the ground. The floor a hexagonal pattern of black polished stone, the sealant between the stones a neon blue. And the walls forged of what looked like furnished carbon fiber. Beautiful. Now, I'm not the bachelor type, but I knew this was one very high quality "guest room".
Looking at the bedside clock.... This was apparently a hologram of some sort... It read about 5:43 pm, so I could get a much needed shower in, and perhaps salvage some clothes, because all this time I was in fact, wearing nothing but my sleek black, blood tattered fur. I stepped into the shower, if you could call it even that, and tested myself how to work the damn thing. It had a blue screen in the place of a temperature adjustment handle, and multiple nozzles, located in the oddest places. I tapped on the screen with my right paw pad, hoping it was touch and animal friendly. It was, and it was also simple, just drag a pad over the color corresponding with the temperature and, presto, a lovely full body shower. Like I had once before in my drug induced dream, (if that was one) I ran my claws through my mane, restoring its natural flow. And to excuse some dirty details, I managed to blow about 30 minutes on my little meditation/restoration session, Stepping out all fresh and such. After drying off with I swear, baby skin smooth towels, I slide open the glossy wardroom door and came face to face with what was, I presume, my ball room dress for the evening with Mr. Pushy-fuck . It was almost exactly like the tiles in the bathroom, Black Hexagons bordered by a dark blue lining. But it was made of material I had never seen before. Actually, come to think of it, I believe my Russian friend's vest and leggings were made of this stuff. None the less, I put the flashy business suit on, finding it fit perfect, besides the fact it was lacking a hole for my tail. I growled softly at the thing, and went to slice a hole in the rear, only to have my claws held back by the material. Of course, bullet-proof. But like anything, nothing is perfect, so removing the pants I held them by the waist, allowing me a clean stab straight through, cool.
When that women said this room was made for containment, she wasn't kidding, the entrance door was pressure sealed shut, and I was trying to be early. I stood, puzzled by my guardian door. But, like magic, the lock released at the stroke of 6:30. "Curfews..." I murmured to myself. Taking the elevator I used earlier to come here, I entered alone, looking along the list of buttons for anything that hinted a penthouse. Hitting a button labeled "S" the elevator continued upward for about 13 seconds before opening to a large, breathtaking glass dome. But this wasn't the usual multi-pane dome some airports and select buildings had, this was one, continuous piece of glass (if it even was).
"Ah, Rashama, glad you found the suite easily, come, take a seat over here," He gestured to the "bottom" of the large triangle table, my back facing the far most part of the dome. And, come to think of it, how did he know my name? To my right was a middle-aged man I had never met before, he was very broad shouldered, and had very little hair aside a lightly grown goatee. But, one thing was for sure: he was military. He wore a very finely ironed and kept multi-cam combat uniform. The man set his half-filled crystal glass of wine down and raised his open hand to me, "Rashama, it's an honor to make your acquaintance." I was a bit taken, and honor? Hardly. "Umm, thanks, mister...?" I questioned, not even knowing his name. "Excuse me, Hunn, Colonel Hunn." "Nice to meet you too Colonel." Hey, I'm not the overly-social type, that was all I had.
The silence did not last before Windsnarle spoke, "Before we get too far into business, let's have something to eat, shall we?" After he had finished, he waved his hand to a man dressed in white, who went into a double hinged door. But before the door closed, I focused on the bit of glass on it, peering into the reflection of three armed guards, one of them being my Russian friend. And that really set off my mood, right as I thought I was clear from more violence. I kept that bit of information to myself, hopefully not having to use it later. When the doors opened again, 6 white-clothed servers exited, each holding silver trays, probably containing foods I had never even knew existed. And I was right, Most of it was just astoundingly prepared meat, vegetables, and other fine delecesin. Then suddenly, I remembered I hadn't eaten anything "real" in weeks, just whatever was keeping me alive in the stasis chamber. Then my instinct kicked in, I salivated and my senses began to go into overdrive, I heard the electrical current in the lights surrounding the room, I could smell the grease tainting the cables in the elevator shaft, I even began to see the beat of everyone's heart in the room, their main arteries pulsing along their necks. It was strange, very strange. But I guess I didn't need to go into a killing frenzy to eat, because The tray holding what looked like corned beef came down to me eventually. Even while I had my body overclocked, I managed to keep myself together, using the fork and knife provided instead of my apparently diamond-hard claws. After a few minutes of eating in silence, a glass was brought to me, full of lager, I could smell, Jamaican. I nodded in thanks to the sever, then proceeded to drink, but I stopped, I smelled something else, chloroform. This was drugged. After all my years involved with drugs and other illegal actions, I had come across this substance thrice before, the first I had my share of an experience with it. I emitted a low growl, I was having enough of this secret bullshit. Both the men looked at me in a nervous way, "How often is it Jacob that you deploy armed guards and drug the drinks of your guests?" But he just smiled and turned to Hunn, "See, he is everything I briefed you about, he's definitely something you want in your arsenal." Hunn laughed softly to himself and then looked at me, examining me. "Outstanding.... Gives me chills thinking about what he could do..." I stood up and deployed my claws, letting them extend a few inches past my fingers. My "fight or flight" reflexes were kicking in, and settling on fight. "What are you talking about? What is all of this?" I snapped at them both. Hunn looked up at me, "Son, I'm here to give you an offer. I'd like to get you weaponized." I aligned my spine once again and retracted my claws, "What do you mean?" He grinned and stood, "I'm here to offer you placement in a special operations section of the US green barrae. You'd be our ace in the hole, our last resort against any given threat." Now I had one thing down to fact, I was in way farther then I thought, I had the US military inviting to their house of pain, and a billion corporations begging me for donations. But back on the topic, the military. I had given it thought a while back, thinking I wouldn't be much good at anything else. But I wasn't sure I was built for that kind of action, so I let it float away deep in my mind. Yet here I was again, being confronted to accept what I thought was a lost cause. But hey, I had nothing else to loose, why not? "I like what I hear Colonel, I'm in."
Hunn pushed back his chair and saluted me, "Good to hear Wyyvin, you ship out to assessment first thing in the morning, 0600 hours". Cool, I'm not usually one for sudden life changing decisions (as you can tell from my previous experience) but I had a good feeling about this, I chance to redeem myself mentally after the high school incident. Did I need to say yes? No, I could easily just shot him down and been stuck with Windsnarle for who knows long, so the opportunity to go into harm's way and live one dangerous-ass life ruled over. After that, my drink was replaced with the same thing, minus the sleeper, and the three of us talked for a long time. I can't say how long because after a few drinks I was feeling intoxicated and my memory began to falter , so I just laughed and talked, like an everyday celebrity. After a while I sobered up a bit enough to ask Jacob a question, putting down my lager for a moment and asked; "So, did you ever do what you needed me for in the first place? Ya' know, with taking my blood and all? And what about my freedom?" I'm fairly sure he didn't take me fully seriously because I knew I was slurring my words and randomly purring. He gave a slight chuckle, but answered none the less, "I did to a point, but it's been very challenging to work with a genome as unique as yours, it's not animal, but not human, so it forces us to change up the rules a bit. And I've discovered that we cannot splice your DNA into a more stable form by any current means, as soon as we try to decode the amino acids in a gel, they self-destruct." He took a breath, "Because in order to keep your DNA in a usable state, it must be exposed a special chemical only your body makes, like an anti-piracy system. It's frustrating, but fascinating all the same." I understood some of what he was saying, but some just went over my head, but I did find the part about my DNA being almost impossible to copy interesting, I guess it kept me original. "So, if we are going to make any more progress, we need to copy that chemical, but do not worry about being a science experiment, we have the means needed to discover and produce it in time." Then he took a long sip from his wine. Least someone here was thinking straight. But he never told me about my freedom, so I just assumed I was off the hook because I was going with Hunn, who was probably paying more than I can fathom for my custody. I don't think I was going to find out though, because I started drifting in and out of consciousness, and I finally took the hint to call it quits when I lost muscle control in my torso and fell sideways off my chair, landing hard on my shoulder, A few exclaiming noises coming from both the host and guest. And Then I blacked out for a couple seconds, coming to with some deep laughter from myself moments later, leaning in my chair, Windsnarle shining an LED light in my slit pupils. "I think you're definitely done for tonight guy." He said looking over me. I slowly blinked, feeling the floor spin and my vision blur a bit. Yep, I was trashed. A real light weight when it came to alcohol apparently. I jerked myself up, my reversed joints swaying a bit in my lower knees because of my lack of balance. With some pitiful steps I worked my way towards the elevator. Damn I looked like a fool, just getting into the most elite combat force In the US military and I'm tripping on sheen in celebration. But before I went down, I overhead the colonel say something, "I'm impressed with how he turned out..." Whatever that meant.
I reached my door and by then I was too tired and drunk to try to open the padlock, so I drew back my first and punched through the number pad, and twisted my paw around, prying the mechanism loose, and thus opening my suite door in the most fashionable way possible. Pulling off my jacket then undershirt, I moved to my bed and fell muzzle first into the plush pillow, passing out like a child in seconds.