SFSD-X Short Story Smackdown

5.1 When She Was Bad

I hold her down on the concrete, her hot breath near my ear. Too close; she'll use her teeth if I'm not careful. I adjust my hold and hear a satisfying grunt.

"Tell me who gave you the intel on Drone Search," I ask again.

Beneath me, Livia writhes to free herself, almost in time to the music I have blasting. Victims of the Absurd – a song I know she finds particularly offensive. In all honesty, I think it's bollocks, but I need to put the pressure on her for the information. Time is running out.

The concrete basement we are in is mildewed and smells of old socks and onions. I lift her back into the metal chair and she spits on me.

Good thing I've already thoroughly secured her hands or my life would be forfeit by now.

"Easy, love," I say. "We both know how this will end. You will give me what I want to know. You won't have a choice. Therefore—" She spits on my again. "Therefore, you can tell me now or afterwards."

Interrogation is not my forte, and certainly not something I practice regularly on beautiful women. Let's call this a special occasion, shall we?

Livia laughed, low and seductive. "Hit me with everything you've got, James. I want to see you at your finest."

The song ended and a new one, She Ain't Got No Legs, begins. I switch off the player. I am done with ineffectual psychological pressure. The fun and games end now.

I let her see the syringe before I jab it mercilessly in her arm. The spasms ripple through her almost immediately. She can't control her scream, but she does bite it back, mouth half closed.

She is good.

"The intel on Drone Search. Who sent you? Who told you about it?" I ask.

The serum takes a few minutes to affect her brain, however. While she contorts in pain, I wait patiently. Like I said, this really isn't what I enlisted in her Majesty's service for. I hate to see a magnificent female writhe for any reason but with pleasure. And Livia.... In different circumstances.....

"I hacked Crystal Castle. I found..." she gasps for air, "I found the code, but not the location of the machines. They are offline."

"And you want to find them, to reconnect them and change the code? They won't target only drones anymore would they?"

"I don't mind them taking down the drones. But there are other targets," she says. She shudders and her eyes roll back. The doctors warned me that the serum was particularly painful, but would not leave lasting damage as long as the victim doesn't accidently hurt herself. I hold her steady in the rickety chair.

"You want to take the power back, don't you? Well, done my beauty. Who sent you?" I ask.

"No one."

"Who sent you?"

"I did."

"Who is your chief commander?"

"I work alone." Sweat breaks out across her forehead despite the chill of the cellar. She is struggling. I'm surprised she hasn't vomited. They said it was a common side effect.

"Livia," I say, kneeling in front her. She's not a danger to me anymore. I lower my voice to a whisper. "Do you trust me?"

"No." The word is half-choked, and she will lose consciousness soon.

"Do you believe I don't want to hurt you?"

"Yes."

"Do you still love me?"

"No."

It cuts, I won't lie. But I can't blame her after all that has happened between us, our separate paths, our different dreams, and most especially our allegiances to a higher cause.

"Livia, I care for you deeply, do you at least believe me?"

"Yes, James. I do."

"Tell me who gives you your orders, and I can make this pain disappear. Let me make it stop."

"I work alone. I only work for myself." She laughs again.

I jab her with the antidote and she collapses forward. I catch her before she can tip the chair. There is a glass of water and a pitcher ready and after drinking, she drains the rest on her face. It runs down her blouse, soaking it and leaving it transparent.

I unlock the cuffs, congratulating her. She stays in my arms.

"You passed the final training. M will certainly promote you. No one has resisted this serum as well as you have today," I tell her.

With a quick tilt, her lips are on mine, moving with frenzied need. My hands move up her transparent shirt to find the soft breasts I can see beneath it. She tears at my shirt, buttons snap loose.

I am not aware she is still holding the handcuffs until she fixes me to the pipes. Straddling me, my hands above me head and her face level with mine, she gives my lips a lick. She is bad.

"What makes you think I resisted it? What if everything I said was the truth?" she asks.

"This is a secure room, Livia. You can't be seriously considering something thoughtless." Livia is one of the most trusted and medaled spies in the service. Thoughtless is not in her range of possibilities.

"It's normally secure," she says. She tickles my chest with her fingernails, and I can't help but notice her long legs hooked over mine. I strain briefly at the cuffs which prevent me from reaching her. "But I would bet my life that you cut the cameras, James. You don't like to be watched. Do you?"

She knows me too well. All my hopes and dreams and little weaknesses. "Livia, love, I—"

"Ah, ah, ah," she says, wagging her finger in 'no.' "Too late for that. I really do have to look out for myself now."

She stands and without ceremony, bags the remaining serum and antidote from the work station. Blowing a kiss on her way out, she saunters to the door. I can only admire view of her fine derriere.

I yank angrily at the cuffs. It won't take her long to escape the building. I have to hand it to her – she is better at being bad than I gave her credit.