Kitabı oku: «The Colors Of The Dragon», sayfa 2

Chapter 3

Dakota

I don't have much in common with the general. In any case, physically, we cannot say that the resemblance is striking. Robert Jones' physique is as austere as his character. His face seems to be cut with a billhook with strict, angular features with no beard. His hair is cut in a short brush without the slightest hair sticking out like a high-ranking military man should be. As for his outfit, he obviously wears the official costume that suits a general, a costume without any wrinkles. It looks like he was dipped in starch to be excessively rigid, like his posture. I would say that I got from my mother, but I have no picture of her and my father refuses to tell me. After two unsuccessful attempts which ended in humiliation, I gave up. I still have the hope that I have been adopted and that one day my real parents will come to pick me up. I imagine it’s the little girl inside me who still hopes to have parents who love her.

However, for the moment, it is the adult who is in this room, squaring the shoulders, waiting for the admonition which will not be long. The general watches us with his stern look, which, matched his dark bottomless eyes, gives me shivers down my spine. Surprisingly, I am more on my guard in his presence than in the midst of demons capable of cutting me into pieces. Go find out why!

— Dakota, you were late, as usual. I thought I had educated you better. Punctuality is a virtue and your name should not give you any free hand.

It starts well. What was it, 30 seconds late? And I was in the meeting room before his arrival it seems to me, so what's the problem? I know, I exist. That's the concern. Against all odds, he needs me and he hates it as much as he can't bear me. Besides, he never looks me in the eye. They say the eyes are the windows of the soul. What is he afraid of finding in mine to avoid contact systematically?

— Sorry, general.

I grit one's teeth on this appellation. I know this is the norm in the military, people are named by rank and if it was only in public it wouldn't bother me more than that. Only, he demands that I call him general from as far back as I can remember. He always refused that i call him daddy, as if he didn't consider me as his daughter, which leaves a bitter taste in my mouth when he claims my education. The first time I called a man daddy was to tease George a countless sermon. It is pathetic.

— Well, don't let it happen again. Now let's start the debriefing. Commander ?

George scrapes his throat to clear his throat and relate our mission, omitting a few details that would have gotten me in trouble again.

— Anything else to report?

He squinted, suspicious. He suspects that there were omissions in the story, it seems. But against all odds, no one opens mouths. Visibly this does not please to the general who is strumming on the table, his nervous tic when events do not fit as he desired.

— I studied the video of the surveillance glasses before summoning you. I watched the pictures very carefully.

Fortunately, the glasses are only eyes and not ears and my ear-flap is only used to communicate, without recording anything, or I would have taken it for my regimental.

— As much to tell you immediately that I expected to have the corpse of a serpieusson in the morgue at this time. So explain to me why this is not the case.

It’s Russel who takes over.

— Not a threat? However, I saw this monster hanging Dakota by the feet. Even without the sound, I can assure you that it wasn’t his cordial way of greeting her. So tell me now why you didn't cut this creature to pieces, Dakota. What are your weapons for? Decoration? That's it, the facts are clear, for the general, I am wrong. Whatever I say now, he will consider that I made a mistake. The compassionate look of Luke indicates that he has reached the same conclusion then me. It’s very gratifying. I approach a neutral face, the one I worked on all my childhood to hide my emotions from him, to explain the reasons for my clemency, but inside, I boiling.

— The serpieusson did not appreciate my intrusion into its territory, which is a normal, instinctive reaction, but I quickly made him hear reason and he cooperated without arguing afterwards.

The general frowns as I feel the situation get worse with each of his remarks.

— How did you make him understand reason?

I refuse to answer this question. I can't stand the lie, it's visceral, I hate it, but I have no illusions, if I inform him that I gave my name to a demon, he will treat me unconscious and order to kill said demon, supposedly to protect everyone. It is true that to give one's identity to a demon of hell is to give him the power to do us a lot of harm. He can then track us just by whispering our name and thinking of us, allowing him to enter insurmountable places, like the base of Fort Benning, to name a few, and suddenly, to kill us in our sleep, at the same time. This, therefore, is a mark of trust between a human and a demon. The serpieusson has done the same by giving me one of its scales, but I also do not intend to give this information to my father where again, it will turn against me. My obstinate silence is not really to his liking.

— I order you to answer your general.

Orders, more orders, still orders. He can only give orders anyway! Luke comes to my rescue before the situation gets out of hand and I get angry too, causing me a lot of trouble again.

— She simply explained to him that we only wanted to find him a territory less exposed to the human world and he agreed to follow us.

The general laughs and it is not pleasant.

— He decided to follow you of his own free will like a nice doggie?

— Exactly.

My father falls heavily into his chair, which cracks in reprisal. He is not fooled, but without proof, he can do nothing against our solidarity.

— This will be the official version of your report commander?

— Absolutely. This is how the facts unfolded.

I silently thank George for falsifying his report to save my butt. My teammates do not save me only on the field, they also do it in everyday life by serving as a bulwark between my father, and the world in general, and me.

— I'm passing things this time, but at the next misdemeanor, Dakota , you'll end up in the dungeon.

You would think he was doing me a favor, only, it was just a disguised threat. I’m sure he’s not kidding. It’s his way of directing the base. Just as disobedient prisoners who go to the hole, rebel soldiers like me end up in the dungeon. It looks like the Middle Ages. I have of course already spent a few stays in a cell, this is not the first time that I have upset him. My father keeps one moreover available just for me, my personal prison. I'm lucky. However, it is not the shock argument that will change my opinions. A cell measuring 2 by 2 meters with the only comfort of a metal berth and a toilet without any privacy will never change my deep convictions. In reality, what bothers me most about his punishments is not eating for the two days that it lasts. I am a fighter, my body, especially my muscles, needs protein to function. Each time I come out weak and Luke has to carry me and feed me. It’s the most humiliating thing in the end, and I think my dad got it, because he’s still waiting until I’m unable to support my weight to release me.

— let's carry on our meeting.

The general’s loud voice brings me back to the present moment brutally. So this meeting will never end?

— In view of the latest elements, I want a microphone to be installed on Dakota as soon as you are out, even if there is no contact with the enemy.

I swallow my saliva crookedly and the faces of Jasper and Jared darken. They joined the military with passion, with faith, but they find it hard to tolerate the lack of free will that this life demands. With this microphone which will spy on my words, but also my exchanges with them, we reach heights in the lack of freedom.

— With all due respect general, a listening device could hinder the eye of a lynx in close combat, and so make her in danger.

George tries to play on the general's sensible point to win the case. He just forgot one thing, my father has no sensitivity, especially not towards me.

— Are you discussing my orders commander?

— No of course not.

My general's satisfied smile makes me clench my fists to stick my nails into my palms and whiten my knuckles. The problem is that an intervention on my part will only confirm his decision. Whatever I do, the general has spoken and I have nothing to do with it.

— Well. So go train yourself by plugging her a tracker. Like that, she will know how to react in the case of an attack so as not to lose it or be discomforted. Manage this as you want, but I want to hear everything that happens during your absence, without exception. The device is mandatory as soon as you leave the base. Ask the technical service for the best device. There is no way that there are blanks on the tape. No excuse will be accepted or you will assume the consequences. Is that understood?

— Yes my general.

We respond in harmony that seems to satisfy him as he dismiss us with a flippant hand sign, as if we were mere underlings and not an elite unit trained for the most dangerous fighting in the world.

This is why the six of us meet at the gymnasium, when my only desire is to slip into my bed and sleep for at least 48 hours to forget this damn day.

— Are you ok Dakota?

— Of course. Why would not I be? After the camera glasses, the snitch. Normal. What is the next step? A GPS chip implanted under my skin?

George wrings his hands. He looks uncomfortable when he has no reason to be. He had nothing to do with this kind of decision and even tried to help me. He prefers to leave me alone with Luke who is raising his hands in the air in front of him as a peace sign , and I feel guilty immediately. I’m not angry against them, but against Robert Jones, the man who claims to be my father when it suits him, but who doesn’t have the attitude. What annoys me the most is that from the outside, we could consider his excessive surveillance as a mark of attention, of concern for my safety, but I know that it is not the case. All his devices are just a way for him to control me a little more, to keep hold of the unit that earned him his place at the head of the base.

— Sorry, my bitterness is not directed against you.

My heart brother hugs me while kissing my head. He is aware that these meetings with my father are a real test for me each time.

— DAKOTA.

George calls me from the opposite side of the gymnasium, his loud voice ringing against the walls. he is positioned just close by the punching bag. He also knows me well. This is exactly what I need to release the tension and allay my fury. So i join him by trotting while Jasper and Jared go up the ring to engage in a friendly boxing fight. Or almost. I wouldn’t like to take some of the beating they do. My commander conscientiously bandages my hands and then helps me put on gloves. I spend the next hour in enchaining directly, hook and uppercut. Contrary to what was said in meetings, I don't need to learn to fight with a snitch. Whether I lose it in battle or has no importance, because, first, it will never prevent me from saving myself, priority to my buttocks, and second, whether the recording is complete or not, my father will find a reason to blame me. Finally, I find it hard to relax and ignore the harsh remarks of the man I should count more than anything.

Chapter 4

Dakota

After training, we all end up at home, as often. My apartment is almost too small to accommodate five males swollen with testosterone, but I am extremely uncomfortable in an environment other than mine, so they are kind enough to agree to hug a little so that I can be myself.

— What do you want to eat Dakota?

Good question. What could cheer me up and soften my bruised little heart?

— No matter the food, as long as you eat it on my dream body, you will be in seventh heaven, doll.

I explode with laughter in front of Jared who swells the pectorals by raising his eyebrows suggestively. Luke walks behind him to pat him on the back of the head as I struggle to catch my breath and tears drop from the corner of my eyes. Now, more than food, I need my friends and their antics to lighten up this trying day.

— Seriously dude, does it work with girls your hopeless dredge?

— Of course. Have you seen how seductive am i? No one can resist my charm.

— Your insignificant charm you mean?

I let Jasper and Jared bicker nicely and join George, who is desperately looking for an edible commodity in my fridge.

— What do you want me to prepare with a piece of moldy cheese and an expired bottle of milk?

I give him a shy contrite smile. At the same time, we went on a mission for a week and the general didn't give me much time to fill up on the pantry. On the other hand, even in normal times, without missions or otherwise (which rarely happens, demons do not know the concept of holidays), you cannot say that I am a homemaker. No one has taught me how to cook, and I hate cleaning, being content with the bare minimum to maintain a welcoming interior. My fridge is never topped with delicious dishes. It’s already a miracle when it contains edible food. On the other hand, a multitude of leaflets for home delivery of dishes are magnetized above.

— Can we order Chinese?

— Are you sure you want a Chinese cookie with a prediction? We cannot say that the day has brought you luck so far.

— Not false.

Luke arrives from behind and puts his arm on my shoulders, sticking his warm body to mine. It is in these moments of complicity that I regret not being able to really see him. Not being able to observe them all other than through a green filter that probably distorts the smoldering joy on their face.

— You seem pensive.

I jump when I hear Russel behind me. I did not notice his presence in the kitchen. For an elite soldier familiar with the most dangerous fights and missions on this Earth, I let myself be surprised like a beginner.

— I'm going to order pizza.

— This is exactly what you need. Fat and heavy that will make you drowsy and sleep like a baby.

— Also take some ice cream that you can lick on me.

Jared can't resist.

And at the same time, that's exactly what I needed: remarks, friendly hugs and George's paternal compassion. This is how we all meet around the coffee table, double cheese pepperoni pizzas spread out in front of us, a beer in hand and a turnip, said the cavemen, on the screen. I wake up two hours later, the soporific side of the pizza having had its effect.

The boys all left except Luke, dozing by my side on the sofa. He looks so peaceful that I prefer to let him sleep. After all, it won't be the first time he squats my sofa for the night. I blink several times, clearing my mind. I wonder what woke me up. For once, no nightmare came to invade my mind, my subconscious left me in peace, no vision of bloody monsters and massacres. So why do I have my eyes wide open in the middle of the night, when I was comfortable against Luke and warm thanks to the blanket that one of my adorable colleagues put on me? My eyes are suddenly attracted by the television which projects sinister red and blue lights in all my living room. Police sirens invade the screen and a red banner scrolls down the screen. I turn up the sound to understand what the reporter is saying in the foreground.

"In the small town of Gettysburg, South Dakota, the discovery of a disemboweled woman put people in awe. The young woman, eight months pregnant, was killed in obscure conditions and her baby disappeared. No hypothesis is ruled out for the moment, but in view of the bloody scene worthy of a horror movie which even shocked the police, it can only be the work of a psychopath. No, that’s not the only plausible hypothesis, unfortunately. A demon is quite capable of committing this kind of horror. The journalist continues her report while my brains are running at full speed. "In this city of only a thousand inhabitants, this crime has caused a wave of panic and the population is asking for state aid to quickly arrest this murderer who steals children. I prefer to turn off the television before the end. I've heard enough to have a restless night. Or no night at all, since my phone rings all over the apartment. No need to pick, I already know what it is about when I heard Luke’s phone ringing. Sleep will wait, a new mission awaits us.

— Hello.

— Dakota, it's George. Sorry to wake you up, but we're waiting at HQ.

— Any relation with the news that's looping on television?

— Yes. Luke still at home?

— I wake him up and we're coming.

I hang up and feel two strong arms hug me against Luke's warm body. I let myself be drawn back and take advantage of this moment to appreciate our complicity. This is what keeps me going despite everything I’ve seen and will continue to see for years. Without him, without them, I would not stand and would surely end up completely mad and depressed.

— Bad night ?

— Bad wake up. The general is waiting for us.

— OK, let's go.

I don't move even though he's ready to follow me. For the first time, I am afraid of what we will see. A pregnant woman, a missing baby. We’re going a step further in horror. It may have been my daily routine for seven years now, but I'm not used to it. On the other hand, if I get used to it, it's that I'm losing my soul. So what is worse in the end?

— An issue Dakota?

— Um, I'm afraid of what we're going to find. I saw the news on TV. It’s really ugly.

He doesn't ask me any questions and I appreciate the silence. But it cannot be eternal either.

— We have to go, sweetie. You know what will happen if not.

Oh yes, I know. A new admonition from the general. And one a day is enough for me. I haven't digested the last one yet. Let us pass a few days before the next.

— Let's go.

We take care to arrive a few minutes apart, the latest incident marked us for a moment. Luke had slept at my house, just like that night, so we had arrived side by side. My father imagined that we were sleeping together and since I am irreplaceable, he wanted to fire Luke from the team for breaking the rules which prohibit intimate contact between colleagues. It had taken a lot of energy for George and the others to convince him that nothing sentimental was going on. I feel a bit like a plague victim in the eyes of my father. No one has the right to be close to me at the risk of being threatened with dismissal.

The general’s glare tells me that it’s going to be bad again.

— Dakota, thank you for honoring us with your presence among us as a simple mortal. It seemed to me, however, that I raised this problem with you recently.

I am simple and mortal too, but it constantly marks a difference between the world and me. As if I didn't realize I was different. I do not even deign to answer him, it would be useless except to maintain a sterile conversation and I am too tired for that. He takes my silence as a vow of penance and resumes without paying any more attention to me and finally, it's still better.

— Last night, a woman was attacked in a park in Gettysburg. She was bitten and ripped open and the child she was carrying has disappeared. The authorities contacted us to take charge this affair.

How can he bring up such monstrous facts with such detachment?

— Do we know what we will face?

— No, Commander. You're going to go blindly, so I want Dakota on the front line.

Good. Most fathers protect their daughter against all odds, mine sends me directly into the mouth of the wolf with his blessing.

— I should stay with her to secure her back.

Fortunately, Russel is there to think about saving my butt.

— No way . I want this monster, and I want it alive. Once you have located its lair, you will remain in support in the van and will only intervene if she is in deadly danger. I well said deadly. Is it clear to everyone?

Great. So basically, if I'm not dying, but just crippled, stay hidden.

— My general…

— Those who it causes problem would just stay at the base and request a new assignment.

It leaves Jared speechless. I don’t think I’ve seen him that quiet before. His sorry air when he looks at me makes my heart warm. I see Jasper staring at his shoes and Luke squeezes his thigh between his fingers so much that they whiten visibly. As for George, I don't think I've ever seen him with his jaw so tight, I swear I hear his teeth grinding. However, he ended up speaking in a relatively calm tone.

— Permission to speak general?

— I'm listening to you, but if it's to discuss my orders, you might as well shut up.

If Russel's eyes were machine guns, I would have been rid of my father since a few minutes already.

-Dakota is an essential part of our team. Why endanger her unnecessarily? We would be more effective in pairs.

— She's not sugar, Commander. She's a soldier, like all of you. In addition, she will not be alone. She will have the glasses and the microphone in addition to her headset, you will follow her every move in real time. It's up to you to intervene at the right time. As soon as she has spotted the target with certainty, you will come to support her and proceed to extract the demon without blunder. No untimely intervention. I told you, I want him alive.

It’s a big first. Usually he wants demons, bad or not, under plastic in the morgue. Why is it different today? I have no time to think that the question crosses my lips.

— Why alive? Usually I have to fight to make you accept it. Are we going to release such a dangerous demon?

— Although this does not concern you, I'll tell you. I want to have him studied, in case others appear.

Since when have demons had to be alive for biologists to study them? Since never. The morgue is proof of that, that's what it is for.

— Now lay out. You have a long way to do.

We all get up, but I don't have time to reach the door that my name ring in the meeting room.

— Dakota.

No need to turn a deaf ear, it will only make him shout a little more. So I stop a few inches from my salute, under the sorry look of my friends who leave the room visibly with regret. My father doesn't even deign to close the door before straighten me out. He appreciates public humiliations. More than me anyway. Already that I am cataloged weird, I will also be spotted insubordinate. Although my back and forth to the hole have already informed the base personnel of my faults.

— You are a soldier. I taught you respect and discipline. Never allow yourself to discuss my orders again. You obey and that's all.

I keep my head down, like a little girl caught at fault. This is how I feel in front of my father. Like a little girl who made a mistake and who desperately tries to make proud a father who cares so little about her.

— Is that understood?

— Yes.

— YES WHO ?

I hate when he yells to get everyone’s attention. I mumble what he expects from me to end this unpleasant moment.

— Yes my general.

He waves to me to dismiss me like an annoying stray dog. I feel tears threatening to bead in the corner of my eyes and it is out of the question that they will flow to HQ, in front of all these people who watch me with pity or contempt. My father gives me a final warning that I don't understand as I finally pass this damned door.

— You are not as irreplaceable as you think.

I almost rush outside to take a breath of fresh air and run out of breath to my house where Luke is already waiting for me, arms wide open for me to take refuge there. I can't wait to leave the base finally. It is better to put distance between my father and me.