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Posted: Thu Oct 19, 2006 6:19 pm
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Posted: Thu Oct 19, 2006 6:34 pm
Caitlin woke up, a number of hours later, with a throbbing headache and acute sore spots on the back of her neck and one of her arms. The room looked positively normal in all respects - a Western hotel room, complete with desk, stuffed chair, an empty book case, bedside table, closet, minifridge, and a door to a restroom slightly ajar. It was clean, and in wholly mundane shades of blue-grey. Any of her things on the ship (weapons and communication devices aside) have been brought into the room and left on the chair. A large pitcher of ice water with a glass besides it sat on her bedside table, with a small note: Quote: Welcome to our island, Lt. Gunn. We do hope that you enjoy your stay here and will do all that we can to see that you are comfortable. You will have to pardon our actions, but we do not allow trespassers here due to the nature of the research on this island, and we were following regulations. It will take a number of days to confirm your identity and your security clearence before we can allow you any sort of communication outside the island. In the meantime, make yourself comfortable.
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Sabin Duvert Vice Captain
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Posted: Sat Oct 21, 2006 4:37 pm
Taking Stock__________//
Freeze. Caitlin didn't open her eyes as she became conscious slowly, keeping her breathing soft. Last thing she could remember.... storm, beach, fish... monster? The terrible headache and the tearing thirstiness in the back of her throat was making it difficult to think, but she persevered. She remembered now. The b*****d in the black suit had shot her. Some kind of trank, considering she remembered passing out because of it. Was she a prisoner now? The smell of the air around was not dank, but clean, with a slight breeze that went along with the gentle hum of an air conditioner. She could feel sheets under her fingers. So... not a prison cell? And certainly there seemed to be no other people around, judging by sound....
The headache was getting quite insistent now. The young officer sighed quietly, and gave in, opening her eyes that were still sticky with salt and sweat. The room.... seemed empty. She sat up immediately, swinging her legs round to the side, but almost falling over again as the woozy aftereffects hit her strongly. A... hotel room, larger than her cabin, more plush than a cell? But she'd been tranked.... her roaming gaze taking in her surroundings suddenly registered the pitcher of water beside her. Water...
She slopped water on to the table in her haste to pour a glass, swallowing it down greedily, the icyness burning in her abused throat but the liquid soaking in more immediately. The next glass was poured more carefully, though she still threw it back just as fast, before realising belatedly that there was now a slightly damp square of paper folded neatly beside the jug. She cursed mentally, holding the glass in one hand, trembling fingers rescuing the note and unfolding it carefully.
The glass emptied absently as she narrowed her eyes, scanning the text before snorting and slamming her hand down on the bed, remembering with an effort not to crumple the note underneath it. 'Make herself comfortable'? Bloody Americans, shoot first and ask questions later! She was going to have a report and a half on this one when she got back. But first... surroundings.
She drank another glass of water and poured one to hold as she got to her feet. She knew she'd been getting dehydrated in her struggle in the storm, and she needed to regulate her intake more carefully now. A window, a door, an internal door; looking at the corner of the room she saw something that was either a concealed camera or she was Queen Titania. Hah. Prison cell perhaps not, but someone somewhere was definitely keeping an eye on her. Moving carefully, she first went to the main window, and peered out. She was on a ground level; she could see more buildings, rows of the same, and she guessed that she was in a similar complex; there must be a room above hers. It had been late afternoon, she figured, when she'd made landfall; it was the late hours of the morning now most probably, looking at the sun. Sun, tropicalness.... still another island, most probably the same one she had landed on. Most definitely not Bermuda, she thought grimly. As long as it wasn't something like Guantanamo Bay.... but no, the note (whether she chose to believe it or not) had said something about research. That must be it. Area 51 was more like it, as she thought back to the man who was also a fish... what bizarre kind of research was going on? She rubbed at her arm absently as she went over to the door, trying the handle and being utterly surprised that it was unlocked. She opened it, peered out; and then shut it again carefully. Check these surroundings first before she moved outside.
She was still wearing her clothes she'd washed ashore in; she could see the salt patterns staining the olive material of her trousers, and the streak of cleaned wound that run up one calf muscle. At least sea water had let it clean nicely. She rubbed at her arm again, and then blinked. They'd given her a shot, that wasn't anything that had happened to her. What kind of shot? Immunization, keeping their research sterile? A truth serum, to make her talk? No, don't be daft, she thought caustically, shaking her head and then wincing at the movement. Now that certainly wasn't an injury she'd aquired, had she? And a shot, to the back of her neck? Bringing up fingers still taut with salt overdose to part her hair slightly, she realised with a start that her hair had been brushed, at the back anyway. To keep it out the way? And her arm, and her neck, was fresh and free from sweat and salt. What the hell? Bemusement touched the lieutenant's face as she moved over to what she assumed was a bathroom. All fitted out nicely; as soon as she'd got everything sorted she had promised herself a shower. Going back to fill up her glass again, she saw her old rucksack, looking as battered as ever, slumped in the comfortable looking chair.Oh no, not the comfy chair! God, that was her brother invading her mind in that quote. A smile quirked across her frowning face for a moment as she went over to tip the rucksack out onto her bed. The compass nearly bounced off and onto the floor, but she managed to stop it with her knee; setting down her water glass she wiped a hand across her eyes and picked it up, laying it neatly to the side as she took her own inventory. Her phone, for all the seawater had made it unusuable a long time ago, was gone; this hardly surprised her. So did the lack of penknife. Caitlin looked irritable as she started folding up the seastained sweater that had been there. That present was her passing out present from her father, for making officer at the naval academy in Dartmouth; they'd better return it to her when she left.
Placing the sweater on the bed as well, she took an inventory; her sweater, her sunglasses (miraculously unbroken), a metal hair clip (thank god for that, she'd forgotten she had it); her compass, her utterly ruined copy of 'Three Men in a Boat' and her wallet. Wait, wasn't her naval ID in that? And they still couldn't get her identification? The notes in her wallet were pretty much smush, both the Bermudan dollars and her sterling, though she counted out meticulously that she had £3.47 in change. Not that there was probably any use for it out here. Beer money perhaps.... But she catalogued it nevertheless. And that was it, apart from the clothes she was wearing; she'd lost her raincoat at sea, and she hadn't really brought much with her for a jaunt out sailing the harbour. Looking round the room once more, she left the things piled on her bed and looked at the furniture. A hotel room, certainly; her hunch had been right, but a hotel room in blocks of two in a big settlement? And even decorated in battleship grey and blue, her mind supplied ironically, as her eyes rested on the small screen and dialing pad of a communications device.
She was halfway to grabbing for it before she stopped. She had an image to maintain here; not only her own, but that of the Royal Navy. Taking a deep breath, she instead walked towards the bathroom, legs still a little wobbly. The headache was still throbbing, and her arm and neck hurt; she would clean up, and look respectable, just in case that thing really had video feed. And of course, those watching cameras wouldn't catch her slobbing around the place.
~
Fifteen minutes later, the book was on the bookshelf, the sweater was in a drawer and Caitlin herself was sitting stiffly in the chair at the desk. She'd had to put back on her disgusting salty clothes; but salt-stained was better than wet; she'd ask for a change of clothes as well. Her sunvisor was on her bedside table with her compass, and her wallet was clutched in her hand; her wet hair was twisted into a tight, unforgiving bun at the back of her head that the hair clip was unsuccessfully maintaining, her shorter fringe slipping out but being constantly tucked behind her ears. Her left arm was cradled carefully against herself; that shot was really beginning to hurt, but she wasn't going to show that. Following the simple directions on the com device, she took a deep breath and pressed a button, her voice calm but nevertheless with a hint of authority in it.
"Excuse me, operator? Would you mind terribly putting me through to someone in charge?"
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Posted: Mon Oct 23, 2006 5:49 am
A few beeps later and a rather bored-sounding female voice answered; the screen on the panel remaining the same off-white as the rest of the plastic of the unit.
"Hold on just a moment and I will check the availability."
Without waiting for a response, there were a few more beeps, and dead air for nearly two full minutes before it beeped again. This time a male voice, tinged with the same French accent that spoke to her on the beach answered.
"Ahh, good morning, Sleeping Beauty. Lieutenant Gunn, was it? I must apologize for my... precaution. But I am certain that you can understand protocol."
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Sabin Duvert Vice Captain
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Posted: Tue Oct 24, 2006 10:27 am
Sleeping Beauty?? Obviously the man thought himself amusing. But she wouldn't let that jibe get to her. Gritting her teeth slightly, she sighed infinitessimally and kept her voice hard and get courteous.
"Protocol, really. I'm not quite sure what kind -that- is, but moving on. Lieutenant Gunn, you are right. If you'd looked harder when you were rummaging through my belongings you might have seen my ID." The pause was pointed. "And who might I have the.... pleasure of speaking with? Are you perhaps the one in charge of this ramshackle setup?"
She sat back slightly. Answers were needed, but there was no point in talking to a flunky.
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Posted: Wed Oct 25, 2006 12:34 am
"Oh, we saw your identification, Lieutenant, and have made photocopies for our research, but it will take a while for communication with the United Kingdom. We don't have any hardwire communication lines here, you have to understand. But... it is hardly a 'ramshackle' organization, miss. But I'm sure that the intracacies of our research would escape you."
"And my name? Dr. Sabin Duvert, the same one who had the distinct pleasure of meeting you on the beach."
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Sabin Duvert Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Oct 25, 2006 12:50 am
"Dr. Duvert, why do you need my details for your research??" There was no way that one was slipping past her. And no communication, bollocks. "And I find it hard to believe that you do not have at least a radio or some satellite communications. Please either contact someone immediately or let me have access to such a device." She glanced across to the window, and at the edge ofthebuilding she could see opposite. "And where am I, and where might your offices be?"
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Posted: Wed Oct 25, 2006 2:56 am
"We need your information to check with customs to verify your identity. Forgive our paranoia, but as I have told you more than once we have some highly confidential research in the works and it would not be very conducive for that secrecy to take all of that at face value."
Sabin enjoyed baiting the newbies. "And I am afraid that it will take at least a week for our runner to make it to mainland with the information and back with the verification. In the meantime, make yourself at home, Leiutenant. And I will have to ask that you stay away from the laboratories until that point as well."
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Sabin Duvert Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Oct 25, 2006 11:23 am
"That's ridiculous." As much polite scorn as possible was poured into her tone. "You're just going to leave me here, after I just survived that horrific storm, with no extra clothes or contact with people, and for a week at that? I'm sure that violates -any- number of my human rights." She paused to cough, her throat still a little sore; she'd have another glass of water after this, definitely.
"And I haven't even touched on what on earth explanation you're going to feed me for that man on the beach. No way was he a hallucination. He was -real-. You spoke to him."
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Posted: Wed Oct 25, 2006 1:05 pm
There was an undisguised tone of annoyance in Sabin's voice now. "Miss Gunn, I am sure that putting you up in one of our fully furnished duplexes, with ample food and water from the community cafeteria, is in no way a 'human rights violation'. If you think it is, then surely your military career has not taken you far from your pampered life."
"Had you let me continue, I would have gone on to say that a shipment of standard clothing can be found in the closet of your room. And as for the gentleman, I told you that there is some highly experimental and top secret research being conducted here."
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Sabin Duvert Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Oct 25, 2006 1:21 pm
"All I'm asking for is a -real- reason why you are denying me communications, and that's Lieutenant Gunn to you." She almost snapped at him, before calming herself down with a mental curse. If that bizarre monster really was the result of research, she shouldn't be aggravating these people unless she ended up caught up in it herself. She coughed slightly, and then made her voice drop a tone, sounding exhausted, and a little penitent. "I apologize. I'm still not feeling quite myself. Thankyou for the water, and for telling me about the clothes.... but I still don't understand just quite what is so difficult about a simple communication."
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Posted: Wed Oct 25, 2006 1:27 pm
"That is because I have told you the truth regarding the communication dead-zone of this island. We have situated ourselves in the Bermuda Triangle for a reason. For security purposes, you have to understand. I will tell you this: we are developing new.... opportunities for the US military. You can understand our need for secrecy I hope."
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Sabin Duvert Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Oct 25, 2006 1:38 pm
Caitlin sat back in her chair.
"That doesn't surprise me." The tone could be either resigned or curious, especially when heard over communications. "So now I have to sit here for a week. Okay. Care to explain now why there are so many other houses outside the window? I'm guessing they don't all house stranded survivors." The note of irony was a lot clearer on that one.
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Posted: Wed Oct 25, 2006 4:10 pm
"That is correct. However long it takes for us to verify your identity and then debrief you. It should take about a week. So in the meantime, enjoy your stay, and have a happy Halloween. I'm sure you'll be meeting many of the other residents, so I shall leave the introductions to them."
There was a note of finality in the statement.
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Sabin Duvert Vice Captain
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Posted: Thu Oct 26, 2006 1:36 am
He was trying to end the conversation already?
"Many of the other residents? Why are there so many people living here if you're top secret and communicationless? .......Are they all part of your research here? Like the mutant fish man?" A sick feeling suddenly rose in the pit of her stomach, and she pushed it away strongly. Don't be ridiculous.
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