Part Five - "Dark Legacies"
The last twelve hours had been rather harsh for Doctor Adam McCallister. He'd been given time to spend with Dasha, who had been teary and joyous that he was, in fact, still alive and hadn't been overly harmed by their captors. And they'd redosed her, in a sexual encounter that felt both genuine and sincere, something Adam was still slightly uncomfortable with.
He'd spent much of his life struggling to find rhyme and reason for the actions of women before finally deciding they generally just liked fucking with men's heads. But Dasha's face had contained genuine concern when he'd first seen it, and that hadn't been something he'd expected to see. Dasha had been with him out of a sense of self-preservation, but perhaps at some point over the past several months, they'd found something deeper. He certainly hadn't been putting on airs when dealing with her, letting his natural emotions run open, always speaking his mind and never sugar coating his thoughts. Dasha had argued with him some of the time, but she'd always done it in a way that demonstrated at least she understood where he was coming from.
The second woman, however, had been... less understanding.
His captors had called the woman Stevie, but Adam figured it must have been something like Svetlana or Sveta, because she was far too eastern European to be a Stephanie, which is what Stevie was usually short for. She was muscular, strong, far more physically powerful than Adam himself had ever been, even in his prime. She looked like a brute, like her body had been acclimated to weight lifting, wrestling, or maybe hard, heavy labor. She had clearly been given the injection somewhere before the trip had started, used to placate and calm her, or, more likely, to keep her mind rattled, to keep her too addled to be able to think straight. She had dark hair, black like the endless night, and the room reeked horribly, the bucket left for the woman to shit and piss in having been knocked over in some fit of rage. Her skin was pale, and she was cagey, ready to pin Adam against a wall, but he did his best to offer her some signs that she would get through this, that she just needed to indulge and pair with him.
And so she did.
It was the roughest, most bestial sex Adam had ever had in his long life. He took no active hand, played no active part. He was, in the most literal sense of the word, just a body, a receptacle full of cum for her to take her draw from. She pinned him to the ground and rode atop of him. Any time he tried to take any action to try and exert some control, his hands were pinned back down onto the ground, and she just kept thrusting down onto his cock.
When he finally came inside of the powerful woman, she slumped on top of him with such force that he was nervous he would be crushed underneath. It took him a couple of minutes, but he eventually pushed her body off his and laid her down on her back. She was, naturally, muttering imprinting over and over again.
They left him in with her unconscious body for far longer than they needed to before he'd been hauled out, taken into a washroom of some kind then hosed down none too gently. He wanted to complain about how rough they were being, but the stink of shit and piss took so long to get off of him that he couldn't blame them for wanting to make sure he was getting properly cleansed.
Once that was done, they took him back to Dasha, letting him get dressed and then finally laying down to sleep while two guards stood watch the entire time. To Adam's mind, he might have been finally starting to come through onto the other side of where he'd been. Dasha slept clinging to him like she was terrified they were going to take him away from her again, despite their captors insistence that he would be brought back so that she would be regularly dosed. With Dasha in his arms, he was able to get a good night's sleep and let his mind consider what his future might hold for him.
The next morning, he was allowed to wake up on his own, and once he was up and mobile, one of the guards mentioned that he was going to go have a meeting with Elle to discuss what his future might actually hold. If nothing else, they weren't talking about executing him right away, which meant that there would be opportunities for him to escape later in the future.
When Adam had been a very young man, he had studied the evolutionary marvel that is the simple cockroach. Despite millions of years of evolution, the cockroach had never been eliminated as a species, and had found itself able to survive and endure predators, changing environments and ever present threats to its well-being. The cockroach was a survivor; that was something Adam admired, the tenacity to never be beaten down or broken by anyone or anything.
This particular morning, however, he wasn't taken back to the interrogation room, but instead allowed to meet with Elle up on the decks. He'd been cautioned that it would quite cold, and they had given him a jacket, gloves and a hat. When Bee had brought him up to Elle, he'd found her smoking, leaning against the railing, peering off into the distance, and Adam could see shore off, probably 40-50 kilometers away, although still too far for him to make out any real details.
"We must be nearly where we're going," Adam said to her. "Otherwise you wouldn't have let me up here."
"Mmmm," Elle nodded, taking a drag from her cigarette. "At this point, we're basically home, and I'm less worried about pirates or Russians."
"Are you going to tell me where we're going?"
"Soon, Doctor," she said, tossing her nearly finished cigarette out to sea. "Very soon. Before the day's end, we will have a new home for you, one way or another. Either you'll be working for us, or we'll be shipping you back off to the Americans. Personally, I suspect the former rather than the latter. Considering you shot and killed someone, I cannot imagine they would welcome you back with open arms."
"But you and your people will?" Adam said, moving to lean against the railing next to her. "I find that hard to believe."
"Mmm. We'll welcome you, but I think the 'open arms' bit is a touch naΓ―ve, don't you?" She smirked slyly. "Besides, I still have a handful more questions for you to answer, but I think this time we'll try it without the truth serum, just to see if you can learn to be cooperative with people who might offer you shelter and asylum or if we should simply let the Americans have their most troublesome son back under their watchful eye."
"Ask away."
"The Americans were able to pick up on the pairing system you'd implemented into the Quaranteam serum very quickly after your defection," she said, folding her arms over her chest. The wind was chilling but not so brutal that it would freeze them immediately. "How?"
"Oh, that's easy," Adam said with ominous laughter. "I left most of my notes for Doctor Marcos to find."
"You... you what?"
Adam smiled, seeing the confusion in Elle's eyes. It was nice to see her on the other side of a thousand questions, because these, unlike at least half of the ones she'd asked earlier, she didn't have answers for in advance. "I know what you must think of me, Elle, but I'm never cruel without reason or merit, and as much as an obstruction to my work as Doctor Marcos was in some regards, he is also a tremendously talented scientist, and someone for whom I have the utmost respect, at least professionally. I had given them a great gift, and while I knew it would take some time for them to see it that way, I wanted them to understand the rules early on, so that countless lives wouldn't be wasted with needless experimentation and guesswork. My files detailed how the lock and key system worked, what some of the sorts of consequences I expected to occur if the wrong key was applied to a lock it didn't match, and how deeply folded into the serum all of my work was."