Creed frowned at the towel in his hand before absently rubbing it over the stubble on his closely buzzed head. “Ma’am? What’s today’s date?”
Now it was Sloan’s turn to frown. She hesitated only a moment before answering, “It’s May 30th.” She watched Creed’s face as he reacted to the news.
“Are you sure?” he asked, dazed.
“Of course.”
“What happened to me?” he stared into the girl’s crisp, gray eyes and saw kindness there.
“You suffered a severe head trauma. There’s been memory loss,” Sloan offered carefully. “That’s why you get the headaches.”
“How did the head trauma happen? Was it from the Retribution Match?” he asked, desperately trying to put the pieces together.
Sloan glanced around to be sure no one was anywhere watching then motioned for him to follow her into the lab.
“This room is sound proof,” she said once they’d entered the lab. He followed her to a desk in the back corner where neat stacks of computer printouts lay atop manila folders. She motioned to a chair for him to take. She took the one behind the desk, but leaned over it, hands clasped together. “I also know it’s not monitored, as Dr. Williams doesn’t want anyone to know a lot of what’s going on in our studies.” Sloan sighed deeply, a shadow of regret slipping across her face. “It still wouldn’t do for anyone to see us talking. You understand, don’t you?” she looked into the face of the soldier who had been her subject for the past three weeks.
“Yes, I do. Thank you for taking the risk to talk with me. And by the way, thanks for the pills yesterday. I barely made it back to my quarters.”
Sloan nodded, acknowledging the thanks. “About that,” she leaned back and pulled a drawer open. “Here, hide them. If you must use them, find a way to let me know so I can be sure we don’t take a blood or urine sample from you for the forty-eight hours it’ll remain detectable in your system.”
Creed pocketed the tiny bottle containing no more than six pills by the sound of it, “Thank you, Sloan. Seriously.”
“You’re welcome.” She offered just a hint of a smile. Her little girl’s face was just starting to show the beginnings of the beautiful woman she would one day be.
“What happened to me, Sloan?” Creed’s blue eyes glistened with turmoil.
“Short version: Oldham was going to have you killed for your disobedience during the Match. Williams offered you another choice. You went on assignment to kill a woman who stole three metahumans a dozen years ago and return the metas to Williams. That’s where things get sketchy. Rumor has it you befriended your targets and turned against Williams. When he sent in a squad of soldiers to extract them, you fought. During the battle, there was an explosion and you were exposed to an undetermined amount of the original Infinite serum—gifting you with even more metahuman abilities.” Sloan stopped talking and watched Creed’s face carefully.
His eyes were glassed over, as he stared straight ahead.
“Is any of this triggering memories?” Sloan asked.
Creed stayed unblinking before slowly shaking his head, no.
Sloan peered nervously around, half expecting Williams himself to come slinking into the room.
“Why did Williams keep me alive?” Creed’s voice sounded hollow—detached.
“I don’t know. When you first arrived, we weren’t sure you would survive. Your injuries were so extensive. Dr. Chaunders worked around the clock to monitor your progress. I don’t think it was for altruistic reasons; I believe Williams threatened him.
“Anyway, within nine days you woke. Your healing was remarkable from a scientific standpoint. Healing from the wounds you suffered should have taken twice as long, easily. You were put in a chemically induced coma for several days while Dr. Bjorn and Dr. Chaunders carried out some procedures,” Sloan shrugged.
“I wasn’t invited to participate in that part of your recovery, so I don’t know what was done, but once we were given clearance to allow you to awaken, you’ve been performing exponentially in all physical tests.” A smile lit her face.
“You’re a medical phenomenon; really quite extraordinary,” she offered innocently.
Creed felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest with a metal spork. Sloan’s perceptive doctor’s eyes caught the clouds building behind the blue in his eyes one moment then clear to a dead calm the next.
It was eerie.
“You are not supposed to know any of this.” The young doctor was starting to worry she’d said far too much.
“I understand,” Creed stood to leave, but stopped and looked back at the girl seated behind the desk of a grown-up. “Thank you, Sloan. For everything.” He nodded once, dipped his eyes in a gentle bow and walked with the grace of a panther across the laboratory and through the sliding doors.
He had a meeting to attend.
Chapter 26 New Assignment, Old Friends
Promptly at oh-eight-hundred hours, Creed knocked on the door of the second-floor conference room.