BURDEN OF
AUTHORITY
BY: DANI
Bitter Responsibility
Flint awoke with a shudder, streaming with sweat; the nightmares were getting worse. Doing his best to calm his frantic nerves, he sat up, switched on the light and glanced at his watch 214am. Nope… too early to get up without arousing suspicion, besides, he couldn't let anyone know… didn't want to admit to himself… his only option was to try to go back to sleep and hope the haunting images did not return.
* * * * * * * *
Lady Jaye struggled with the manacles, but it was no use; she
was a prisoner, deep within the bowels of this Cobra Hell-hole.
She wondered how long it would take before the interrogation
began; how long before the vile Cobra thugs began torturing
her… abusing her… Shaking her head she tried to thrust the
images out of her mind, but she knew it was inevitable
Cobra's interrogation tactics were well documented and she
had been trained to resist them, but that was training and this
was all too real.
Lady Jaye's eyes shot towards the door as she heard a creak.
Taking a deep breath, she tried her best to stave off her fear
now was not the time to crumble or even show the slightest hint
of fear or emotion she would resist these Cobra bastards to
the end. But although she thought she had convinced herself,
she was ill-prepared for the torment that awaited her.
The door swung violently open to reveal a hulking mass of
muscled flesh reeking of sweat and dirt and wearing an
ominous grin. The Cobra interrogator was followed by his
entourage of filthy hooligans who wheeled in tables of wicked
implements that looked like they belonged in the office of a
dentist who had obviously not gained support of the ADA.
"You will talk," were the first monosyllabic guttural sounds to
emerge from the sweaty beast before her. Lady Jaye just
glared. "You will talk…" The stress in his voice moved this time
from `talk' to `will' in a manner suggesting that the means would
be highly unpleasant. Lady Jaye tried her best to appear as
stolid as possible, but she could feel her countenance wavering
with every passing second.
"Let's begin." As the words dripped from his mouth, one of his
slimy assistants turned to the table of implements with a
determination that suggested that this was not his first
experience in interrogation. He snatched a particularly vile
looking device hand-held, jagged edge, razor sharp and
brought it to his boss. In a swift movement, the master
interrogator had grasped the device and had Lady Jaye's hand
against a block, fingers spread, implement poised. "Why were
you in Cairo?"
"What? I'm a tourist. I don't know what this is all about…" Lady
Jaye tried unconvincingly.
"Do not toy with me woman, we know you are a Joe spy. How
did you learn of our plans?"
"I don't know what you're talking about. What plans? I'm a
tourist! You're going to hear from my lawyer about this you
basta-aaaaaaarrrrgghh!" she squealed in pain as the blade
sliced through her finger, crunching through bone, severing
tendons, blood spurting; a guard quickly applied a compress
didn't want her bleeding to death just yet…
"No more games… I'm not a patient man. For each lie you tell,
you lose another finger."
Lady Jaye was still in a partial state of shock, but the interrogator
was true to his word and after the next line of questioning, Lady
Jaye was left with only a thumb and two fingers on each hand
but the interrogator hadn't gotten a shred of information from her.
Realizing he would now need to resort to more extreme
measures, the interrogator calmly asked one of his many
assistants for "phase 2" and with a startled jump a hooligan
handed him another device from the table.
Lady Jaye was now fading in and out of consciousness. Beside
the fact that she had lost a lot of blood from the wounds inflicted
on her hands, the interrogators band of servants had been
beating her between questions. Her eyes were swollen almost
shut, dried blood was caked around her nostrils, and her split lip
was oozing. Yet even in her misery, she could still see what little
light there was in these dungeons glinting off the metal of the
device as the interrogator brought it towards her.
"This is a little toy one of our technicians thought up. It's
essentially a modified laser, but very, very advanced and specific
of purpose. You see, I press this button as I aim it at the cornea
of your eye… it cuts a perfect circle, penetrating all the way to the
optic nerve. As it cuts, the liquid in your eye seeps out the
opening, and as the muscles in your eye contract in pain, more
fluid is squeezed free until your eye eventually collapses in on
itself. Then, I press this button which allows the laser to sever
the optic nerve and the shell that was once your eye falls
lifelessly from the socket like a shriveled up piece of fruit. Of
course, it's all excruciatingly painful and naturally the damage is
permanent and irreversible. Care to be more cooperative?"
Lady Jaye closed her eyes and realized she was shaking, badly
she didn't know if it was from shock or fear because she was
feeling both, but she knew her duty. And as three assistants
pinned her to the ground, one holding her eyelid open so she
could only watch helplessly, just one thought escaped her lips
"Flint, I'll never forgive you for leaving me behind. This is all your
fault."
* * * * * * * *
Letting out a helpless, agonized cry, Flint jumped from his sleep. That was the worst one yet. He noticed his hands were shaking uncontrollably and he wrung them together to try to get it under control. He turned on the light, got out of bed, and began pacing, frantically, nervously. His eyes fell to his watch 248am. Christ! Catching his breath he headed for the shower. He couldn't take it anymore. It was time he faced his fears and the truth… he was worried as hell about Lady Jaye and the blame was entirely on his shoulders.
* * * * * * * *
Commissary, 0622 Hours…
"What's up with you this morning?" Duke asked poking Flint in
the back as he sat at the table next to him. Flint only grunted in
response and didn't even glance up from the Cheerios he was
bobbing up and down with his spoon in the bowl of steadily
warming milk.
"Well, good morning to you too!" Duke smirked as he chomped
on a slice of overcooked bacon. "Don't tell me you're still feeling
like crap about that last mission…" Duke prodded.
Flint looked up as if he was going to respond but didn't have the
energy nor the inclination. He really wasn't in the mood for
Duke's jeering comments this morning. He had other things on
his mind…
"Yeah, you really screwed the ol' pooch on that one," Duke
chuckled, eager to get a response. The two usually tried to put
a sarcastic spin on the negative aspects of their job, it made it a
bit easier to deal with at times a break in the seriousness so
the overwhelming responsibility wasn't so… well…
overwhelming. Duke tried to gauge Flint's reaction, but none
was forthcoming. Either Flint had more important things on his
mind or he was really upset about leaving Lady Jaye behind on
that last mission. "Hey… I was just kidding," he tried, but there
was only the slightest break in the somber façade, one that
suggested growing annoyance.
"Look, Flint…" Duke began, shifting into a more consoling tone
in an attempt to break his friend out of this funk, "I read the file…
you followed orders… Lady Jaye's a big girl, she knew what she
was getting into…"
Pushing his tray and bowl violently away from him and sending
milk and Cheerios flying across the table, Flint jumped up from
his seat and glared at the man across the table, "you know,
Duke…" Flint was having an obviously difficult time concealing
his irritation now, "if I wanted your analysis of the situation, I
would have asked." And with that he stormed out of the
commissary.
For a few seconds, Duke just stared at the swinging door, a bit
taken aback by Flint's demeanor. "Guess that one got a rise out
of him," Duke mumbled to himself. It really wasn't like Flint at all
to let his emotions get the better of him like that. He'd known
Flint for a long time and he'd never seen him like this… maybe
he was a bit more distressed about that last mission than Duke
had previously thought. After a little reflection, Duke decided it
was probably a good idea to discuss this with Hawk before Flint
was considered for command of another mission; if he was
having trouble keeping it together, Hawk certainly should be the
first to know…
* * * * * * * *
Hawk's Office, 0748 Hours…
"You wanted to see me, sir?" Flint asked cautiously, yet
somewhat absently as he entered Hawk's office.
"Come in, Flint." Hawk's tone was definitely serious which
made Flint all the more nervous and attentive as he approached
the desk. He really had no idea what this was all about and his
mind had run the gamut on the walk across base. "Why don't
you take a seat," Hawk ordered when he noticed Flint standing at
strict attention in front of his desk.
Oh hell, Flint thought, this must be serious. Seated on the
opposite side of Hawk's massive steel desk was disconcerting
at best and Flint found himself feeling just a bit uncomfortable to
say the least. Staring silently at Hawk he awaited the
inevitable… he just wished he had a inkling what this was about
so he could prepare for it. If it was a mission, he wanted to be
able to focus his attention, but Hawk didn't seem to have that
"mission" look on his face… Flint had a feeling he was about to
be blindsided.
"Flint," Hawk began, leaning back in his government issue chair,
"how would you gauge the success of your last mission?"
Flint's heart almost stopped… what was he insinuating? Sure,
Flint had placed personal blame on himself for what had
happened to Lady Jaye; he was tormented by the fact that she
was caught somewhere behind enemy lines, perhaps being
tortured… chained to a wall in some musty dungeon
somewhere… Flint certainly felt a certain amount of guilt, but not
from a command perspective… he didn't need Duke to tell him
that he had done the best he could with a poor situation… the
whole mission had blown up in his face, and he was lucky to
have gotten out with what he did, but he just felt that he should
have protected her somehow… and he didn't like the fact that he
felt that way -- it meant that his feelings for Lady Jaye were much
more than professional which complicated his entire job,
position, judgment… heck, it was the entire reason why he was
sitting in this uncomfortable chair right now being grilled by his
commanding officer.
Flint was at a loss for how to respond… he felt any words out of
his mouth would compromise his feelings… he decided to try to
play innocent to buy himself some time. "I'm not sure what you
mean, sir."
"I mean, Flint," Hawk restated, a bit perturbed, "how do you
FEEL about it… are you content with the decisions you made…
do you question your judgment… I want you to analyze your
performance, Flint."
Flint readjusted his position in the chair. He certainly wasn't
comfortable with this line of questioning. If he told the truth, he'd
venture dangerously close to revealing his feelings about Lady
Jaye to his superior officer, but if he didn't, Hawk was sure to
see through the lie… Hawk always did… and then he'd really be
in deep...
"To be honest, sir," Flint began cautiously, "we had some pretty
poor Intel and that one and I feel I did the best I could with the
situation…"
"But…" Hawk prompted him to continue, obviously reading that
there was more to this than just annoyance and anger at the
poor Intel.
"But," Flint proceeded, "I'm certainly not pleased about the fact
that I had to leave a teammate behind." There. He had said it…
as innocently and inconspicuously as possible. He waited to
see if Hawk would prompt him further.
"That much is obvious." Hawk observed, "And I'd be concerned
if you weren't upset about it." He paused, "But as you stated, you
did the best with the situation you were presented… and as
much as I know this isn't a consolation, I'm in the process of
researching exactly what went wrong and why we had such
contradictory reconnaissance information…" He surveyed Flint's
expressions trying to decipher whether or not he was having an
impact. He wasn't entirely sure why Flint was this distressed
about having one of his team captured… it had happened
before… and although every time it happened there was a
certain amount of disgust in yourself as a commanding officer,
Flint had never reacted like this before. Hawk could only
assume that Flint was displaying a greater deal of distress now
simply because the captured teammate was a woman. Some
men had a difficult time with that… some innate protective
instinct. He'd never pegged Flint as one of those men, but the
stress and pressure of this job had the potential to bring out
surprising emotions in just about anybody. But if Flint was going
to be an effective commanding officer on this Team, he had to
realize that the women on it were equals and learn to thrust all
those emotions someplace where they couldn't cloud his
judgment.
"Having to leave a teammate behind is probably one of the worst
possible scenarios," Hawk began, "but Lady Jaye is a highly
trained operative… she knew what she was getting into…"
Flint rolled his eyes at that last comment. Jeez! If he had a
nickel for every time…
Hawk was visibly irritated by Flint's somewhat disrespectful
response, "do you have a problem with my evaluation, Flint?"
"No, sir" Flint explained, a bit irritated himself, but now
somewhat humbled. He wasn't stupid enough to throw a tirade
in front of his CO. "Quite the contrary, sir. I think your analysis is
right on target." He paused, waiting to see if Hawk wanted to
interject and a bit unsure of how to continue. Well, honesty is the
best policy, but unfortunately often the most threatening…
"Permission to speak freely, sir."
"By all means."
"I'm a bit tired of the `she know what she was getting into'
rationale. Regardless of her preparedness, I'm still responsible
for each and every team member under my command, and
comments like that make me feel like I'm trying to purge myself
of that responsibility. As bitter as that reality is to me, sir, it's still
a reality and I simply can't accept `she knew what she was
getting into' as a means of justifying her capture. I'd be a poor
commanding officer if I could just pass the buck like that…
when one of the members of my team doesn't make it home, it's
my fault. Period. There's no justification that could possibly
alleviate the obligation I have to my troops. Without it, I lose all
my respectability as a commanding officer and without that
respectability and trust, I might as well pack it in right now. So
hearing things like `she knew what she was getting into' just
mocks my sense of duty as a leader… mocks the moral
stipulations of my position… and, frankly, makes me wonder
about the probity of this Team and it's leaders. "
"Are you finished?" Hawk calmly asked.
Catching his breath and starting to worry slightly about the
implications of his statement, Flint replied, "Yes, sir, I suppose I
am."
"Then let me ask you this…" Hawk again leaned back in his
chair, drumming his fingers as he seemed to formulate his
thoughts. He was trying to decide how best to handle this. Flint
certainly was taking this pretty seriously. Hawk felt he was fairly
certain that Flint was simply very worried about Lady Jaye and
was cloaking it in "responsibility". He had the slightest flicker of
a thought that perhaps their relationship might be more than just
professional, but decided this wasn't the time to pursue that;
now was a time for resolution, not obfuscation. "What would you
like to do?"
"Sir?" Flint was actually a bit confused… was Hawk suggesting
a potential rescue mission? A couple of sessions with Psych-
Out?
"Well, Flint," Hawk explained, leaning forward now, elbows on
the edge of his desk, hands clasped, "it's more than obvious
that your feelings of responsibility for what happened to Lady
Jaye are really… bothering you. What would you like to do about
it?"
Flint decided to go for broke. If he was going to get what he
wanted, this was the time. "I'd like to get her the hell out of there,
sir." And he waited…
"I take it you've considered some scenarios?"
Looking hopeful, Flint answered, "I mulled over a couple plans in
my mind, sir."
Hawk glanced down at some of the papers on his desk,
considering the situation before him. Flint held his breath. "I'll
tell you what…" Hawk was now looking Flint right in the eyes;
there was a seriousness on his face that meant that the
decision he had come to was final. Whatever he was about to
say would be the last word on the matter. Flint met his gaze with
the same seriousness, but with the considerable weight of
anticipation. "Get your plan on my desk by early afternoon and I'll
consider it."
Well, it wasn't a definite "yes" but "consider" was certainly
hopeful. "I can do that, sir." Flint smirked almost imperceptibly
as he rose from his chair and started out the door.
"… and Flint," Flint stopped in his tracks and turned. "Don't
make me sorry I did this…"
Flint paused. It was sounding more and more like Hawk was
actually going to let him do this! He contemplated the situation
for a second. Hawk had certainly heard about his behavior in the
commissary this morning, presumably from Duke, which was
why he was here. Hawk had to be concerned about his behavior
and state of mind, but he was willing to give Flint the benefit of
the doubt and his trust… Flint certainly wasn't going to prove that
trust was misplaced. Besides, he was going to rescue Lady
Jaye… he had let her down once and he sure as hell wasn't
going to do it again.
"Thank you, sir… You won't be."
______________________________________________________
Continued in Part
Three
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