The 6

4

"Winston. Winston. Winston!!'' I scream his name as I jolt awake, terror flooding my system. Where the hell am I? It all comes back like a tidal wave and I flop back in the small bed, closing my eyes. Winston comes running into my room, his mouth forming my name. "Rory? What's wrong?"
"Nothing Winston. Just a bad dream. I'm fine." He sees my tear stained cheeks and comes to sit next to me. He places my head in his lap and strokes my long black hair. "What was it about?" Images of dripping red blood come back to me but I push them out of my mind. "It doesn't matter."

We stay in silence for a while before he gets into bed, pulling me next to him. His warm body circles mine and I let a single tear fall onto his arms before falling into a dreamless sleep.

"Aurora. Aurora!" I blink my sleepy eyes at my brother and frown. He was dresses all in black, a gun strapped to his back. "What?" I ask, swinging my legs to touch the floor and stretching my back like a cat. "Get dressed. Bossman wants to see you."
"Who?" I rub at my stinging eyes and stand, the cold floor nipping at my bare feet. "Major Dawson."
"The man from the hospital." I glance at the sterile area around us and amend my statement. "The last hospital."
"Yes. There's clothes in the bathroom. 15 minutes. See you outside." I kiss his cheek and slip into the adjoined bathroom.

I turn on the power shower and glance in the mirror, wincing at what I see. My black hair was tangled and dark half moons were hanging below my eyes. A small bruise has formed overnight on my jaw from my struggle and I have a split lip. Nice.

I step under the hot water and wash quickly, scrubbing off the dirt I'd received after my episode in the air vent. Grubby water floods down the plug hole and I dry off with a thin towel. Slowly, I inspect my body for any other marks and was glad not to find any other injuries. A pile of black clothes was piled on top of the toilet seat and I pick up the top garment. It was a black sports bra. With a shrug, I dress in the odd stretchy-leathery clothes. They fit like a glove and allow for movement. I like them.

When I am dressed, I look at myself in the mirror. My curly hair is hanging loose, the worst of the knots pulled apart in the water of the shower. The dark clothes highlight the paleness of my skin and my dark brown eyes look intensely back at me, surveying my appearance with a cool glance. I look older then my tender 16 years old.

I take a deep breath, preparing myself for what was about to unfold. The major was a tough faced bastard and I will not be afraid. I will be strong. For Winston. I will not be afraid.

Winston is waiting in the bedroom, fiddling with a black box. I give him a tight smile and do a spin. "So? What do you think?" I ask, my voice sounding tense. "Lovely." he kisses my forehead an pockets the black box. "Let's go." He exits the room and I follow him, all of a sudden not feeling as confident as I had in the bathroom.

He leads me down a flight of stairs and though a matrix of twisted corridors. I take deep breaths and steady my heart rate. I will not be afraid. Winston looks at me, a frown forming on his brow. "From here on, you're on your own." He says finally, his voice quiet. My mouth parts but no words come out. He hurries on. "Major Dawson is going to explain everything to you. I promise. He won't hurt you and you will have choices. But you won't see me for a while." Seeing the look on my ace he shakes his head. "No Rory. No. You cannot crumple."
"No Winston. You have to explain what's happening to me. Ever since I arrived I've been poked and prodded. You're the only one who I can trust and now you're leaving!" I'm incredulous.
"I only just got you back. You can't leave." He looks pained as he embraces me. "Major Dawson's a good man. I may not always understand his choices but I do trust and respect him." He says into my hair. "You have to believe me."

And then he pulls away. "No Winston. Please. Stay." He shakes his head and kisses me on the cheek. "Don't be weak. Don't give them ammunition. Trust Major Dawson. Don't be rude. And Rory, for the love of God." he looks at me seriously and incredibly a small smile forms on his mouth. "Don't backchat them." And then Winston leaves.

I watch him as he walks down the corridor with dread in my heart. I'd lost Winston for 2 years and now he was going again after only 2 days. With a deep breath I knock on the door. "Enter." A voice says. I lightly open the door ad slip in, my eyes going to the man behind the large oak desk. He has sandy hair, thinning at the top and watery blue eyes. He looked like an ex-athlete, with a strong physique and weathered, ruddy skin. "Please sit 6. This shouldn't take to long." I narrow my eyes at the nude portrait of a curvy women hanging behind his desk. He catches my eye and smiles devilishly. "My Lolita. Truly exquisite isn't she."
"Sure." I say, sitting lightly on the edfe of the chair. He sneers and sits behind his desk.

"My name is Major Dawson. I am part of the Military Science division here. I help run the secret ops sector."
"Great. What am I doing here?"
"Helping me." I raise my eyebrow and he rushes on. "Us. Helping us."
"Do what?" He rubs his overdeveloped jaw and sighs. "Our motto is that for every family that sleeps happily at night, there's some messed up fucker planning world domination."
"Bit long for a motto don't you think. Not very catchy." I snort. He ignores me.

"We're running out of good guys. Last year alone we lost 14 of our agents. That's 14 too many. What we want you to do is to use your physical advantage to our gain. Dr Franklin gave me back the rustles of your test. You ran a mile in 2.23 minutes. You benched 435 pounds. You sprinted 100m in just under 9 seconds. You're a weapon, just waiting to be forged."
"And is that what you're going to do to me." I say quietly. "Forge me?! Mould me to be you little soldier like you did my brother-"
"Your brother signed up-"
"He signed up to the bloody navy. Not the damn SAS! And most of your soldier look so pumped full of steroids and shit, they could probably level my records. Why the hell do you need me?" I was on my feet now, my finger jabbing at his chest. Dawson looked slightly shocked at my outburst. He rubs his watery eyes and arches his back.

"Because you're different."