Ingrams & Assoc 6: Downfall Ch. 05

He looked over at Trish, who shivered at the memory, still smiling delightedly at Turnbull.

"The funny thing is that while you've been looking for us, all these years, she's been looking for you. It's quite amusing to me, that the two of you have been searching for each other for all this time. For different reasons, obviously, but still. Quite the star-crossed lovers. She was most displeased to know you'd taken up with Miss Carlisle, - or is it Miss Burrows? - over there. I rather think she has some plans to make her displeasure known to both of you over that."

Trish smirked at April, her hooded eyes flashing dangerously.

"But, back to the immediate future. What to do with you? Trish wants to make you subservient slaves. Just dedicated to our well-being, above all else. And I have to say the idea appeals. The idea of you wracking your brains to find new ways to protect us and please us after your past behavior has a certain symmetry to it, don't you think? But... you are both obviously able operators. And my thinking is that those talents would be better put to use by converting you to our point of view, and then sending you out into the world.

"And to be honest, I'd rather do that willingly. Like I've said, converting people is expensive, risky and has potential to leave vegetables, and I'd rather not take that risk with the two of you if I don't have to. Oh, I will if I have to. But if you come willingly, well, it's a much more pleasant experience for everyone. Even if it deprives Trisha here of her desire to make your lives as miserable as she can. If not, well, like I said, we'll break April here first, and then you get to watch it, Chris. Lose yet another woman to the superior man. Yet another total failure."

It was clear that while Turnbull was doing his best to sound like he didn't care, he evidently did. He wanted to humiliate Chris Morgan as much as he could, for reasons only privy to himself.

"I don't honestly believe you will join us willingly, but I've been wrong before, so in the interests of being fair and exploring every opportunity, let's give it a try? And, before I begin, we will know if you are telling the truth. One thing we are very good at is finding out if people are feeding us a line. I'm sure I don't have to explain how."

Chris glanced at April, who rolled her eyes at him.

"Idly curious. Do you ever shut up?" she taunted him.

Turnbull just stared at her for a second, and something in his eyes, or rather, something not in his eyes, absolutely turned her bowels to ice.

"So, you've been chasing us all these months and years. Trying to shut us down. Burning down our buildings, trying to free those who have pledged themselves to us. But why? Why are you doing this? No, that was rhetorical. Let me answer the question. Because we took something from you. Something you considered precious. Because we do things you consider reprehensible. But you don't ask the critical question, do you?"

There was another quick silence where Turnbull looked questioningly at both April and Chris, challenging them to answer him.

"No, you don't. You never ask why we are doing this. You just assume we are the bad guys. Indoctrinating people against their wills. Creating sex slaves for the dominant and powerful. Well, that alone is enough to engage your ire. I can see it in your eyes."

He took another swig from his flask, and then offered it to Trish, who declined. He shrugged.

"This is Johnny Walker Blue. I understand it's a favorite of yours? You want some?" he held out the flask to Chris who shook his head, and then offered to April who similarly refused.

"Your loss. This is the good stuff. Anyway. So yes, we have been doing that sort of thing. Guilty as charged." Turnbull held up his hands together, as though waiting to be cuffed.

"But you never asked why. There is a reason in the madness. When we found Doctor Jezdic, we just had an idea. A glimmer of a better world. Powerful people who wanted to make more of an impact. Oh, being an elder statesman of industry was all very well, but most of the people are self-aware enough to know that once they are gone, then it's greedy usurpers scrambling to make a profit out of the cooling corpse of what they spent their life building. Or greedy offspring, suing each other for a great part of the fortune amassed. They don't want to leave this world like that. They want to make a difference. To make a change. To leave the world better, more stable, than they were born into.

"So, I ask you this. What if we had a world where everyone was rowing in the same direction? Where religious and political differences were eliminated? Where no one was prosecuted for the color of his skin? Where humanity actually agreed with each other, instead of trying to get one over his fellow man all the time? Where there was peace?"

There was a moment as April and Chris suddenly started to realize the scope of what they were looking at.

Turnbull leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees, clasping and playing with the flask, as he talked at it.

"What we are doing here isn't just about making sexual playthings for people too rich to know wrong from right. Yes, we do that, but it's a step in the direction of where we want to go. And it's good testing. If we can change a man's mind from being a masculine strong male to being a subservient faggot for a mediocre couple," April realized he was talking about Lieutenant Hicks, one of her past missions, "then we can change the mind of people in crucial positions in governments around the world, to get them to see things our way. The right way. So we can start to harness the power of humanity, for its own good."

There was a stunned air from April and Chris as they saw the scope of what their enemy was outlining. He was right, they'd never really considered the why, - the what had been enough up till now. But this was... stunning. Far beyond anything they had dreamed of. Real Bond villain stuff.

Turnbull looked up. "I can see you hadn't considered any of this. You just had no concept of the scale of what you are trying to take down. We have plans. Plans beyond just providing sex toys for the rich. I'm sure you can see how ridiculous your efforts were, knowing this."

April felt she had to say something. The trouble was, everything she could say would sound like the last, desperate, shocked response of someone with no way to stop it.

"You'll never get away with it. It's just so ridiculous in conception. You aren't going to be able to indoctrinate powerful people. I've been on the receiving end of that. It just takes too long. You aren't going to be able to program the Prime Minister of England. He can't be out of sight that long!"

She was aware she was reaching, but someone had to say something.

Turnbull smiled at her, a smile that never reached his eyes.

"Oh my dear. We aren't going to take them. They are going to come willingly. You don't understand. It's the people who want our services who are generally the people we need thinking our way in the first place. We aren't going to be trying to force ourselves on people who are unwilling. They are all too willing. We already have a lot of the people we need to start this process, all ready to come and visit, and then, well, let's just say they'll leave a little more convinced than they came. This is all very well planned out my dear. We know what we are doing.

"You have to understand, we aren't evil here. We aren't out for what we can get. We are doing the work that has to be done. To bring humanity back from the brink. To get us to work together."

Chris let out a long breath and then said, "You know the Germans tried this back in World War two. The aryan human. The super man. Look where it got them. This is just Nazi ideals, packaged differently."

Turnbull straightened the crease in his trousers, before replying.

"No, it's not. I've heard that comparison before. We aren't trying to stamp out individualism or make it all group think or some kind of hive mind. That would be stupid, and impossible. Humans will deviate in ideas no matter what we do. No, we want that individualism. We don't want a master race, bred for dominance, as the National Socialists did. We need the cross pollination of ideas. All we are doing is adding a common direction at the bottom of the pile. So things like race or religion or petty feuds or nationalism don't triumph over humanity working together."

April thought that put like that, what they were doing was almost plausible. And then she remembered Major Hicks, as she had found him in that hovel in England, beaten, emaciated and so full of despair, and she knew that all that Turnbull had to say was PR for a mind control domination-based empire.

"So the rich stay rich, and the poor stay poor, and they just stop complaining about it? With you at the top, pulling the strings?" she asked, sardonically.

"Well, someone has to have a guiding hand. Might as well be me," he replied, disarmingly, smiling at her and showing a full mouth of bright white teeth.

April could see that this man was a fanatic. Nothing she or Chris could say could persuade him out of his own perceived rightness. He was the worst kind of evil, a true believer in his own righteousness.

"You're insane. This whole idea will never fly. Someone will stop you, even if it isn't us," She spat.

Turnbull sighed.

"In fact, until you two came along, independently of each other, I might add, we had no setbacks. Things were coming along fine. Slowly, but all the best plans take a while to unfold. That way, you have multiple paths you can follow if one thing doesn't work out. You caused a lot of annoyance, a lot of internal angst, and quite a lot of anger for my board. But, I'm nothing if not good at finding the opportunity in adversity. Pitting you against each other was a terrific idea, even if I do say so myself. Two thorns, one brick, to confuse a metaphor.

"I will apologize for the bombing. That was not my idea, and I learned of it too late to stop it. One of my underlings decided he would attempt to re-enact the knights with Thomas Becket. You know, 'will no one rid me of this vexing priest!' I believe you know of him, Miss Carlisle? Gene Rainer. I do believe you encountered him on one of your first missions for Ingrams. And then again, in Moscow. Yes, we are aware of what happened to him. Let me put your mind at rest, if he hadn't been dealt with in your interactions with him, he would have been as soon as I got my hands on him. So again, apologies for that."

Turnbull glanced at his watch, and then smiled at Trish, looking her up and down.

"But now, it's late, and we need to get to the main event. Right now, Trish and I have an appointment we need to get to. And you need to get on with your training. So, I'm assuming you aren't going to go willingly? Help us with our attempt to bring humanity together? No?"

April sniffed at him. "Major Hicks would disagree with your methodology. As would I. I was raped repeatedly, night after night. Some world order you are building here, built on experiences like that."

It was a fairly boring thing to say, even if it was true. The reality was that April was starting to feel despair. She glanced at Chris, who she could see was also rocked to the core by what he'd heard. It was true, neither of them had really considered the longer game of the Storm Clouds Gentleman's club; it was enough that they had a surface view into what they were doing. The deeper reasoning was just not something either had time or even thought of considering. Hearing it now was terrifying. She doubted she could even really get her head around the concept.

It sounded like science fiction. The stuff that featured in B grade late night movies. But here were people trying to make it happen. And they'd both seen and experienced too much to actually doubt that they could do it. They had the tools, that was for sure.

Still, they had to resist. Falling into the void was not an option. If no one else knew what was really going on, they had no choice. They had to resist, because no one else even knew they had to.

Chris said, "And that goes double for me. I've seen what you do to people. I won't be a part of that willingly."

Turnbull ran his hand over his jaw, regarding the two of them.

"Well, I suspected as such. Still, had to make the offer. Now I can put you in the hands of our process crew and let Ms. Trish here have her way with you with a clean conscience. So be it."

He looked at his watch again, before carrying on.

"Well, we do have a plan for where you are going to go. April, we were considering sending you back to Ingrams, properly incentivized, but we don't need that, since we already have Desirea, and she's higher than you are. Oh, she's taking an unsanctioned leave of absence right now, but once the two of you are on your way to thinking correctly, we'll send her back with a convincing story that your idiot CEO will swallow. Probably something to do with searching for you, in fact. Your Jessica Ingrams has quite the soft spot for you, and will take any story Desirea concocts where you are concerned.

"But, what to do with you? And then I had a brainwave. You have skills, and we can put those to use. So, we are going to create our own Ingrams and Associates. You are going to head that up, train up some staff and we'll send you out to help our cause. Of course, you'll also be a plaything for Ms. Trish and myself, as is fitting. But that's where you are going. You are going to be part of the team that dreams up ways to help further our plans. And you'll delight in doing it.

"You, Captain Morgan, are going to be part plaything for Ms. Trish here, a true sub for her somewhat vicious dominant mind. And simultaneously, you are going to be put to work as a field agent for our new little agency. Miss Carlisle here is going to send you out to seduce men, - oh, did I mention? You are going to be redirected in your sexuality, with the only women you will ever want as Miss Trish and April here, although you'll never get her again. She'll enjoy taunting you though. So yes, that's your future. Appropriate I think, that you'll get fucked by the organization you've been trying to destroy."

Turnbull stood up, and nodded towards the door, which opened and two men in all-too-familiar white overalls entered, carrying syringes.

"We have to get to our appointment, so our time here is done. Next time I see you, you'll be begging me for a way to show me your regret, and how much you want to show me you've changed. Until then..."

Trish beamed at both Chris and April. She stood up and leaned forward and grabbed April's face, and then licked her, from chin to eyeball.

"Oh, we are going to have such fun," she said, her grip tightening hard around April's face.

Letting her go, she turned to Chris, and leaned into him, one hand cupping his groin and the other pulling his head forward.

April could see the veins in his neck pop out, and tears appear in his eyes, as Trish was undoubtedly squeezing his balls hard, as she whispered in his ear, "One day soon, you'll plead with me to do this. Welcome home, dear."

And then they were gone, and the two men were approaching them with syringes at the ready. April started struggling against the plastic ties in earnest, as did Chris, to no avail. And then it was just dark and there was no time at all, just like before.

* * * * *

April awoke into a cold white room, garishly lit by stark overhead tubes. The room was almost empty, - the cot she was lying on, a closed door with no door handle, a small hand panel next to it. A steel toilet in the corner, a single faucet steel sink and two chairs and one table. And that was it. It was also slightly below body temperature and April shivered as she came to.

She was wearing a single white T-shirt, and shorts. 'At least this time it wasn't just panties', she thought. Apart from that, it was all depressingly familiar. She'd been through this before, on one of her previous missions. She knew what they were trying to do, and she was aware that her memories were foggy, and that was intentional.

She stretched and idly wondered how long she'd been there, - trying to count the days, or, more accurately, sleeps, - by scratching on the walls was a waste of time, because not only did she not have anything to scratch with, but she also knew that these people would then add scratches or move her to another cell where there were less. They wanted her confused and out of touch with reality, so they could use that confusion to persuade her of patterns of thought that were alien to her.

Infact, she wondered what they might have already done. Was she already compromised?

She rubbed her left arm, and then realized that she had soreness on the inside. She held her arm up and peered on the inside of her armpit, and found, to her surprise, several scratches. She stared at them for a few moments, and then a memory of herself cutting it, with the sharp end of the hang nail on her right index finger flooded in. She was using this to track how many days / sleeps had passed. It was in a place that, unless the people holding her captive were actively looking, they wouldn't see.

If she was to trust the message she was sending herself, she'd been here eleven days so far. Today would be the twelfth.

Eleven days, that would have given them time to make a start on her. And they wouldn't be hanging around too much; she'd already been down this road once, and she had the scars, both mental and physical, to prove it.

Subtly sticking her hand in the armpit, as though she was scratching an itch, she made another indentation.

After that, she just looked around, trying her best to remember past events. She knew they'd have been giving her drugs, and working on her both as she slept and when awake. She felt down in her genitals, and didn't find soreness that would indicate rape, but lack of soreness was not a total exoneration of sexual assault. For all she knew, she was inviting them in.

She sat on the cot, legs apart, leaning on her knees, wondering how Chris was doing, and if he was even still alive. Wondering what the team was doing, trying to find them. What her friends at Ingrams would be doing now. Anything to hold off the relentless fear and depression that lurked at the edge of her consciousness.

It was all very well having a team behind you, but if they didn't know where you were, they weren't going to be much help. And now she knew the full scope of what Storm Clouds was attempting, it was even more imperative that she figured out some way to get out, to stop them. It was down to her and Chris. And right now, there weren't that many options.

She did wonder how much of her sheer defeated feelings were chemical induced. Maybe this was part of the treatment. Feel like she was helpless, that there was no hope coming, and she'd break? Be open to suggestion?

While she was contemplating this, the door hissed and opened. The hiss suggested it was airtight, which was new. Was there a gas component to the treatment this time around?

Once the door opened, in came four people. The first man, in cyan surgical scrubs, glittering eyes and just slightly overweight, with shorn hair and a bald plate, hands behind his back, - holding an iPad, - staring intently at April. The second and third, clearly guards, in the standard white overalls, holding both crackling electric batons, and also with machine pistols over their shoulders and ear buds in their ears, and lastly, a tall nurse, in a white starch uniform, almost indecent in how short it was, complete with mask and hair covering. She was carrying a metal plate with a syringe and two ampules on it.