"Medic!!!"
Caity's eyes snapped open, and she immediately took a breath of relief. Unless hell or heaven was a blank white hospital room, she was still in the world of the living.
Good to know.
The door was pushed open. A Section X agent in a black suit walked in. It took Caity a few seconds to recognize him as one of the two agents that went to her house and first brought her into Section X. She blamed it on being shot.
"Caity." The agent said quietly. It just occurred to Caity that she never knew his name. Chances were, that would stay the same for a long time. "You did a good job back there. Saved a lot of lives."
"Thanks?" Caity said quietly. "Honestly, it was a bit sloppy. I wouldn't call it a good job."
"You were against three armed men, unarmed, and you killed all three of them without a single civilian casualty. That's hardly sloppy." The agent smiled, something Caity didn't expect to see. He pulled a chair over and sat down beside Caity's bed. For some reason, Caity thought she saw a strand of guilt on his face.
"So, how did things go? Actually, what day is today?" Caity couldn't quite find a calendar around here, and she was in a white patient's gown. Her phone was nowhere to be seen.
"It's Monday. This is the medical wing of Eagle's Nest." The agent answered her concerns. "You were in surgery for hours. The doctors had to do a lot of work to take out the bullet in your stomach and still keep you fully functional. Of course, there's gonna be a scar."
Caity rose her eyebrows before suddenly lifting her bedsheets and looking down. Beneath the white patient's gown that she pulled up, there was a set of bandages wrapped across her lower belly. Even though she couldn't see anything, she could imagine a long, angry red scar across her beautiful, soft skin.
Strangely, Caity found herself smiling.
"That's gonna be quite a trophy." She whispered as she let the sheets back down.
Even Caity herself didn't realize how much her time in Project Phasewalker has changed her. In the past, if she had a scar on her abdomen, she would be complaining about it for weeks. Perhaps for a few years, she would refuse to wear bikinis or anything else that could let people notice the mark.
It would be like a pen marking over Mona Lisa: an unacceptable tarnishing of something beautiful.
But now, instead of being an aesthetically unpleasant obstruction, Caity saw the scar as a trophy. A testament to her courage, strength, and sacrifice. She would no longer hide the scar. No. If anything, she wanted to parade it. She was proud of the scar and the pain she went through to get it.
The agent looked like he wanted to say something, but ultimately, he changed his mind.
"You should be released back into training in two days."
"Two days?" Caity frowned. "I feel fine now."
"Well, unless you want to suffer some serious drawbacks, you should stay on the bed for a while." The agent insisted. "We have the best surgeons in the world, but you really lost a lot of blood. No need to risk permanent damage for a few days."
Caity finally nodded, but she still had a few more questions.
"What did you tell my parents? I was on the way to see them when this whole thing happened." She couldn't imagine how her parents would react to news of her getting shot. Actually, scratch that. She could imagine that, which was precisely why she was worried.
"We told them your trip was canceled by some affairs in Section X. Now that you are awake, you can decide whether or not to tell your parents the truth."
"Ah…" Caity nodded. Section X was actually a lot more humane than people might expect from a big, covert government agency. "And the police? Did anyone record what I did?"
A girl going all Oliver Queen on three bank robbers? The media would be more than happy to report on this real-life heroine. Even the hostages might spread the news of what Caity did. This could be a real problem.
The agent smiled confidently.
"We took care of all the loose ends. Nothing will be traced back to you or Section X."
After the event, Section X agents confiscated the security camera footage from the bank. They also talked to all the personnel involved. One of the hostages was brave enough to record the gunfight with his phone, but the agents were able to get their hands on his phone and thus the video. Some of the hostages had a few words about the"actions made by the FBI to restrict public knowledge", but in the end, this resentment was put down.
The police were handled even more easily. A few officers in the field tried to look into who Caity was and how the hell a teenage girl like her was able to go all James Bond. All it took was a phone call from their commissioner to end their investigation before it even started.
That was the benefit of having the government to back her up. If she was by herself, then she would be forced on the run and probably abandon everyone she knew, not lay in a comfortable hospital room after a surgery done by the best in the world and recover in peace.
"Rest well." As the conversation came to an end, the agent stood back up. "Anything else?"
"Hmmm...I don't think so." Caity thought about it before answering. As the agent left the room, she closed her eyes.
Her belly was still aching a little, but this wasn't enough to bring down her mood. In fact, she felt like she has been better than she has ever been in months, if not years. What she just went through, the thrill of saving lives and actually doing something in real life, provided more stimulation than the best tv shows or movies.
In comparison, taking three lives seemed almost irrelevant. Caity didn't even go through the whole mental tug of war on to the burdens of killing. Her thoughts were clear: those three people were putting others at risk. She terminated that risk by killing them. Simple as that.
What was there to worry about?
---
The next two days were actually painstakingly boring. Due to Caity's strong demands, the nurses brought her some books and videos on potentially helpful things. Tactics. Command and leadership. Even lectures going through famous battles in history that were recorded at West Point and brought over to her.
But these could only contribute a little to satisfying her urges to do something. She wanted. No. She lusted for action. She almost felt wrong to not shoot a single bullet for two days. Not bashing someone's head against a wall for this long? Even more outrageous.
During this time, Caity gave her parents a call. To keep them from freaking out, she told them a well-intended lie: she had some sudden work to attend to on Sunday, which was why she couldn't come home. Everything should be back to normal by the next weekend, with her visiting her parents as scheduled.
Thankfully, on her second day of rest, she received a visit from someone she really didn't expect.
Ryan walked into the room and sat down beside her. With his standard black uniform and pants, he had a small smile on. For a moment, Caity thought she was seeing things.
"I didn't bring any flower if that's what you're wondering," Ryan said as he pulled something out of his pocket. "But I feel like you're gonna like this a lot more than flowers…"
Caity's eyes widened as she recognized what Ryan's gift was. A Glock handgun!
As Ryan handed the girl on the bed the weapon, he added.
"I talked to Instructor Hanks and he said I can bring this to you to play around. Just don't shoot anything."
"Duh!" Caity replied without even looking up. Already, she was running her finger along the weapon. Within seconds, she was pulling the weapon apart down to its very bones. The cold, metallic feeling on her fingers made her grin.
Seeing her progress, Ryan's lips suddenly curved up, as if he remembered something interesting.
"You know...your reputation is really growing among the recruits and the instructors. Do this a couple more times and you'll be more famous than me!"
Caity turned back to Ryan. Really? He, Ryan Carlson, AKA the Psychopath, was talking about jokes with her? What gives? Ryan wasn't blind. He saw the surprise on the girl's face, and he quickly explained himself.
"Well, the thing with me is that I either respect someone, or I don't. For certain people, like those who throw away their privileges or misuse their authorities, I don't give a damn about them. If they die in front of me, well, I'm probably the one pulling the trigger." He grinned.
"And you, Caity," Ryan pointed at Caity. "you literally took on three gunmen, unarmed, when you didn't have to do a thing. And to save innocent people. You have earned my respect, Caity."
Caity could feel a smile climbing onto her face, as well as a small blush. "Thanks." She said softly, but as she looked into Ryan's eyes, she suddenly felt a surge of guilt.
She was about to say something, but she turned away before she could do that.
Ryan didn't stay too long. He had his own classes to go to and other things to do. After he left, Caity was alone once again. But this time, she had the handgun to play with. With the weapon in hand to disassemble and reassemble again and again, Caity felt like time was flying by.
Before long, she was released back into the schedules. The bandage around her belly was removed, revealing the scar she was expecting.
Caity was released before noon. When she walked into the cafeteria, the entire room almost exploded in noise. A handful of Phasewalker recruits at the entrance saw her and immediately stood up and clapped and cheered. This spread like a wildfire, and quickly, everyone was cheering. The few ones that didn't know what was going on were quickly informed by those around them and joined the herd in celebration.
To many Phasewalkers, Caity was almost an idol. She wasn't the best Phasewalker in terms of sheer skills. Recruits like Ryan and Hemley were at an equal level, if not better, but Ryan was always poker-faced and Hemley was from a military family. Caity was a "grass-roots", and when most recruits saw her become this hero, they saw a potential version of their future selves. With Caity's skills, accomplishment, and even look, many recruits quickly became her fanboys and fangirls.
Caity smiled. In a sense, she was flattered beyond imagination, but as the cheers finally died down and some recruits walked over and shook her hands and told her how impressed they were at what she did, Caity felt something wrong deep down in her heart.
It was something ugly. Something unpleasant. Something that made her stomach turn.
Finally, she made her way to the area she used to sit at. On the side, Alex and a few other girls invited her over, but Caity politely declined the invitation and sat down right in front of Ryan. This time, Ryan set his iPad aside and looked up to her with a welcoming smile.
This was a sharp contrast from how he treated her before or how he treated the others. "Oh look! Here's our hero!" He said sarcastically.
Caity sat down, but she looked conflicted. Seeing the look on her face, Ryan kept his mouth shut and waited for what she had to say.
"You know," Caity said almost without thinking. "when I decided to step into that bank, it...it wasn't completely so I can save people. I guess...I guess a part of me was going in to take down those gunners for my own sake. The reputation. The glory. I was even hoping for some monetary compensation from the bank or Section X." She sighed. Her eyes looked away, almost afraid to meet that of Ryan's. "I'm not as selfless as many people may think."
Now, she did get the fame and glory she was after, but at the same time, it made her feel a lot more guilty than she expected. It was almost as if she was manipulating the others and fooling them into believing she was a hero.
She felt phony, like a hypocrite, and this feeling stung a hundred times more than the bullet.
Ryan didn't seem deterred or disgusted or even surprised. He replied Caity's doubts with the same calm, determined voice.
"Caity, what do you think true selflessness should be? What should be your motivation if you are a true hero, in your opinion?"
"Hmmm…" Caity thought about it. "I don't know? Maybe just to save lives? Help people? At least a true hero shouldn't be beating up the bad guys to look better."
"Well," Ryan shrugged. "first of all, by definition, heroes are just people admired for noble qualities. It's a relative concept. One person's hero can be another person's monster. Someone can kill a village and still be seen as a hero for his bravery or ruthlessness. Anyways," He turned to Caity. "during World War II, millions of young men were shipped over to Europe to fight back the Nazis in one of the most brutal conflicts mankind has seen. Countless of them didn't return."
"Tell me, Caity. Are they heroes?"
"Hmmm…" Caity shrugged. This is probably a trick question. "yes. Well, unless they deserted or something, of course."
"Perhaps, but keep in mind." Ryan continued. "At that time, many of the soldiers were drafted. They didn't go to Europe to end the brutal Nazi Regime or to end the concentration camps. No. They picked up a gun for more materialistic, more selfish, reasons than that."
"Some might be in it for the money. Some might be in it because they couldn't find a job back in the States. A number of them might be pressured into it, or they might be after the glory of fighting for the cause. Now," Ryan leaned forward. "does that make them and their sacrifice any less heroic?"
"No...I guess not..."
Ryan nodded slowly as he sat back.
"There you have it." He smiled softly. "Look, Caity. You did something heroic, and now, it's time to reap the rewards. There's nothing wrong about it."
Caity felt like a burden has been lifted from her heart. Her entire body felt lighter. "Thanks, Ryan. I...You have no idea how much this means to me." She said quietly before standing up and walking over to Alex's table.
Ryan grinned slightly before looking back down at his iPad.