Turncoat: Turncoat Trilogy Book 1

Chapter 3.2

Dedicated to IronKite for putting up with my eight quintillion questions on first person writing.

"You're scared," Captain Becker said. "There are only a few reasons for people to be scared. One, they're a coward; two, they think they've done something wrong; three, they have done something wrong. So, which one are you?"

I tried to swallow my heart but when the captain spoke my stomach, liver and for all I know, my lungs joined it in my throat.

"Last night, you were approached by a civilian law enforcement officer, correct?" he asked.

I hesitated a split second too long.

"Don't bother lying to me, I have the video from the officer's car," Becker said.

That means he saw everything, he saw me get grabbed and Nick probably had something on his armor that identified him as resistance. Oh god. Oh my god. He knows. He knows. I'm going to a work camp, he knows.

"Sergeant, answer the Captain's question!" the commandant snapped.

"Yes, I was approached by an officer," I said, finally finding my voice.

"He had two corrupt scans on his scanner before you appeared on his camera and yet you could log into your station his morning," Becker said. "How could you do that if your tags were corrupted?"

"I don't know," I muttered.

"You cannot possibly expect me to believe that, Sergeant," Becker said. He stood from the desk positioned himself between me and the desk. "You were trained as a Hacker before your unfortunate training accident, Sergeant. We both know that. You appeared to be a fairly good one as well. Do you know what happens to people with bionics in a work camp? Do you, sergeant?"

I shook my head.

"They take them. If you have a bionic arm, they take it and you work with one arm. If you have a bionic eye, they take it and you work with one eye. If you have a bionic leg, you work sitting down and maybe you get lucky and someone will help you stand when you need to. I've read your medical report. We both know how extensive your wounds were. It's a small miracle you survived at all, isn't it? You shattered every bone in your legs, snapped all of the ligaments and tendons, broke your spine in two places, broke multiple ribs, a severe concussion, you were in a coma for two weeks. You're paraplegic without your bionics."

I nodded, tears beginning to wet my cheeks.

"They wouldn't bother sending you to a work camp, you would go to an extermination camp, right after they removed your bionics. You will lay in a gas chamber, unable to move, squashed against fifty other bodies in a room big enough to hold twenty. The gas comes from the ceiling, so you'll be the last to die. You'll hear them around you, screaming, crying, begging, coughing, trying to climb the walls to get out and then stopping one by one until it's your turn. It will be hard to breathe at first, then you'll start coughing and your lungs will burn. You'll want to escape, but you'll be unable to move. You'll start to get light headed and then you'll go to sleep. So, how is it that your tags scanned as corrupt last night but were good this morning?"

My breath caught in my throat and hitched whenever I tried to form words. I felt a sob burst through my lips and the hot tears on my cheeks.

"Sergeant, just answer my questions and you won't go to a camp," Becker said.

I looked up at him, barely able to see through the blur of tears. "I won't?" I whimpered.

"Not unless you give me a reason to send you there," he said. "Now, stop your crying and answer my question."