Who Were They?

F O U R - Identity

For the second time Cathy was awakening.

She awoke to find herself lying on a neat white bed in a white, dustless room.  It had white walls, white floors, and  three white doors.  The only things that stood out were herself and the see-through futuristic furniture such as a great big sphere chair, a desk… she couldn’t see a wardrobe so she assumed this would be only a short-term-stay.  She spotted an alarm clock giving Cathy the date and the time, it was:  Half past Nine on Monday the 3rd of July 2012.  She had been out cold for two days.

Getting up from the bed she walked slowly over to the door on the left hand side of the room and as she got near to it it opened (automatically) with a WHOOSH leaving her face to face with a gleaming bathroom.  On first glance it looked normal but as she edged herself towards the bath she noticed many taps all labelled for different bubble baths and soaps and all sorts of other things.  She glanced at herself in the mirror and was shocked by what she saw.  She had marks down the side of her face where she had laid on it, her hair looked like a birds nest and her grey eyes where red-rimmed.

Exiting the bathroom she walked across the main room again and found herself facing another ‘whooshing’ door.  It opened leaving Cathy looking inside a wardrobe (that she hadn’t realised was there) much larger than the bathroom and which was lined with all sorts of clothing.  Including training outfits, casual wear, huge hunters’ gloves, and some standard black turtle neck jackets with trousers to match all with the same blue and red stripe running down the side.  She came across several pairs of camo-trousers, camo shirts, and full body suits again with the red and blue stripe down the side and some casual jeans and plain white t-shirts by the dozens even the odd silk dress could be seen.

‘These people clearly value dress a lot, don’t they?’ Cathy thought to herself.

“See anything you like?” came the same woman’s voice she had heard several days before. “I’m glad you woke up, and we are ever so sorry for the ways upon which you were brought here but when means must.”

Cathy who was still a little groggy and startled by this woman replied in a slurred voice “Where am I? What is this place?”

“All in good time” the woman replied.  “For now” she said crossing the closet to the rack of training clothes “you’ll be needing these” she said tossing a pair of camo-pants and a long-sleeved black t-shirt to Cathy who stood there gazing at the woman with such intense curiosity and fear to match. Cathy did as was instructed and changed into her new clothes leaving her old ones in a pile in the corner. Cathy still kept on her own red high-tops, she wasn’t about to let these people have complete control over her.  She tied back her hair more securely.  She was ready to run if it was needed.   

"Now before you leave this room there is the matter of a new name.  All agents must select a new name to protect their identity and their familes.  First, middle and last."

"Err..." Picking a new name?  They were taking her from her family and now they were taking away her identity.

"And pick something normal,  calling yourself Chip Dip, is not considered wise."

Yes Miss Un-Fun Cathy thought. "Sam Knight, that is the name that I choose".

“Okay Miss Knight.  Training in one hour, don’t be late.” And with that the woman turned on her heel and walked away leaving Cathy stood in her wardrobe with day old clothes on, scared and confused.

She was still pondering on whether or not to leave the security of the room; she so desperately wanted her uncle to tell her ‘Everything will be OK, love. The only thing that will hurt you is if you manage to break your own leg when walking back up them stairs to bed.’ He would say laughing, comforting, but he was not there, no one was.  Cathy (Sam?) thinking this started to cry and once the tears came they didn’t stop.  She was alone with no clue where she was or who these suited people were.

Why had they taken her from her home?

Checking that her locket was securely clasped on she slipped it under her top, she straightened herself up, wiped her eyes and told herself that she wouldn’t get anywhere sat in her room crying like a poor helpless child.  She came to the conclusion that the more she did to help these people with their strange delusions about her parents she would be able to go home sooner.

Leaving the room she took note of the number on the door ‘236’ it read.  Walking down the corridor the only noise heard was the beating of her own heart as if it was trying to escape her chest and the light tap of her footsteps of the cold white floors.  She encountered nobody, not 100% of where she was going or where about she was Cathy was about to turn back and go back to her room when a screen in the wall lit up. Cathy walked closer to the screen as one always does.

There was that woman on the screen talking in a false tour-guide voice… the woman said:

“Welcome to the W.P.P Headquarters” the voice sounded oddly chilling. “Here we train up the best to be the unbeatable, the unstoppable.” The screen was now showing a video of two teenagers around seventeen years old completing a mission of some sort with the most amazing fighting skills Cathy has ever seen (which was something, Cathy had been doing martial arts since she was seven years old!).  The voice spoke some more before flashing up a map of the building giving Cathy the directions to the training centre.

Along the corridor, up the elevator three storeys and across the other side of the level she found herself face-to-face with a room labelled “TRAINING CENTRE.  ONLY THE BEST SURVIVE.”

Taking a deep breathe Cathy shoved open the heavy doors and found twenty other people looking at her including a very angry looking trainer (that Cathy later found out was called Taylor) .

“Right now class this is…” the man paused to check his notes “Sam Knight, she will be with us so don’t stare and carry on with your training!” he ordered with a hoarse bark.

Taylor had been training at the W.P.P HQ since he was eight years old; he was however now twenty. Taylor was about five foot eleven, was heavily tanned like he’d spent five weeks in Spain and had hair the colour of sand, he had several scars and burns going up his arms and a scar running down the left side of his face.  He was wearing a rugby shirt and tracky-pants.  Overall he looked fit and healthy but very worn down like he had lived fifty years not twenty.

Cathy couldn’t quite take in what the coach was saying , she gazed around the room and was faced with the most brilliant weapons and training courses imaginable.  The weapons stretched from bow and arrows, to daggers to sleeping gas.  Huge pieces of apparatus filled up half of the gym and were there to test balance and agility.

Whatever these lot were being trained for it meant business and boy did Cathy know it.