Chapter 8: Tip. Tap.

Ryan opened his eyes to a familiar figure sitting in a chair a short distance away.

Arnold "cut-throat" Rickens. The terrorist he was sent to kill. Unfortunately, it seemed like the opposite was more likely to happen. His characteristic scar was on his face. He was wearing a dark jacket, but his sense of fashion wasn't what Ryan was curious of. It was his armaments that he wanted to see, but all he could tell was the man had something in his pockets.

Fear inevitably crept into Ryan's heart, but he quickly contained it. A quick glance around told him he was in some sort of dark room. His hands were tied behind the chair he was sitting on. His advantage of the element of surprise disappeared when Arnold looked up and saw Ryan awake.

"Ah, look at our gun-wielding hero." Arnold grinned, a sight so menacing it could shut up crying children. His scar moved up and down the same way his face. "I didn't know the Americans also used child soldiers."

Ryan kept his mouth shut at the provocation. How long has it been since he was captured? Ten minutes? An hour? Why haven't the forces the Colonel promised attacked this position already? Were they delayed? Were they also wiped out?

Unfortunately, his silence didn't keep Arnold from reading his thoughts.

"If you are waiting for help, don't bother. While you were knocked out, my brothers and I evacuated that house. Of course, we took you along with us. We are leagues away from that house right now. You, my friend, are alone."

Ryan gulped. If the Colonel and Section X didn't know where he was, then it wouldn't matter if they had armies under their disposal. One wrong move, and this mission meant to be a test might become his last.

If he pulled back when he could, Ryan knew he probably could've gotten back to safety, but he quickly tossed the unnecessary and unhelpful remorse behind him. He made the choice of attacking, which meant he didn't have the right to complain when the consequences befall him.

"Ah, not a talkative one. I see." Arnold smirked before standing up and walking to behind Ryan. Ryan frowned. He really didn't like it when others were behind his back. The lack of vision made him feel a loss of control. It made him feel vulnerable. The vulnerable was amplified when he felt a sharp pain on his wrist.

He kept his mouth shut. He would rather bleed out than let his enemy see his pain. His weakness.

Arnold returned back to face Ryan. A bloody dagger in his hand.

Tap. Tap.

"I just slit your wrist open with a grooved blade." The man said quietly. "According to my experience, you will bleed out if not treated, but don't worry because it will take at least a full hour. That gives us time to chat."

Ryan looked him in the eyes. His mouth shut. Distinctly, he could hear the sound of his blood dripping onto the floor. The tapping sound was obvious in the dark, quiet room.

Tap. Tap.

"Who are you?" Arnold pressed forward. "When we left, the U.S. military launched a full attack on my house. We barely made it out. What makes you so important, and if you are that critical, then why did the military let you come on a mission alone without backup?"

Once again, he was faced by nothing more than silence.

"Ha! Playing the hero, I see." Arnold nodded slowly before suddenly turning and punching Ryan in the stomach. The hit was enough to force Ryan to bend over as blood filled his mouth. "It feels good being tough, doesn't it? Being the man?" He gave Ryan another punch before pushing his back against the chair.

Ryan quietly swallowed the blood in his mouth.

"You want to draw this out? Fine, but eventually, you'll talk. Everyone talks." Arnold nodded before suddenly crossing his fingers, as if he suddenly came up with some genius. "Here's the deal. You'll have at least an hour to live. I will go outside, grab something to eat, and come back in thirty minutes. Before that, I will leave the room to you. I hope this will be enough to cool your head a bit. When all the heroism dies out, you will realize no secret is worth giving your life for."

Much to Ryan's surprise, Arnold did exactly what he said he would do. The captive watched as the scarred man exited the room.

And then, there was silence. Well, silence except for the constant dripping sound of Ryan's blood hitting the ground.

Tap. Tap.

Ryan sighed as he closed his eyes. This Arnold guy was smart. Breaking someone's body wasn't as good as breaking that person's mind. If he just went brute force with the interrogation, Arnold would be bashing Ryan's head in for a few minor details. But now, Arnold was forcing Ryan to question whether the secret he was protecting was worth dying a long, drawn-out death, and he mercifully gave Ryan half an hour to consider it.

Tap. Tap.

Ryan kept his mouth shut and his head low before suddenly jerking forward and trying to break out of his restraints, but the ropes that bound his hands were expertly tied. The knife he hid in his shoe was nowhere to be seen. As far as his eyes could see, there was no tool he could use to regain freedom.

Tap. Tap.

Ryan could feel blood rushing to the wound on his wrist and leaving his body. He was growing weaker and weaker by the second. At this point, death was a real possibility. This wasn't the type of story where the hero magically breaks out and kills all his enemies. This was the type where the hero fails to escape, gets tortured, and then executed slowly and brutally.

As much as he tried to contain it, Ryan's mind jumped between different things. He was just 18. He had a bright future in front of him. He had ten thousand dollars in his bank account, yet to be spent! He was the first Special Forces major in the Phasewalker program. With any luck, he would be the vanguard in advancing into World Alpha! How glorious would that be? Did he really want to give all that away and die in some random corner of the world, mutilated and forgotten?

Would Section X even know what happened to him? What would they tell his sister? His father? What would they say? What would Caity think? Was it really a fair trade to give his life to protect, what? The government department that crafted him into a soldier?

Of course...yes.

Ryan's eyes snapped open in determination.

Section X gave his life value. Before they came to him, he was nobody. Just another high school senior, one among millions across the country. Unless some drastic change happened, he would live a meaningless life. One he had no control over no matter how hard he tried. Eventually, he would end up with some sort of boring office job and an ordinary family, but neither would change the fact that he would just be drifting across life without any control. To the uber-rich and the uber-powerful, he would be no more than a speck of dust.

He would be working from 9 to 5, wasting his time just to earn in a year what Jeff Bezos or Tom Cook spent on meals every day.

Tap. Tap.

Just like what he told Caity, Section X gave all the Phasewalkers a choice. It opened up an endless array of possibilities. As long as they had the will to pay the price, the Phasewalkers could become warriors and generals and celebrities. Even for the less ambitious, they and their families could live through their lives without having to worry about money.

For Ryan alone, as a Special Forces major Phasewalker, the salary he was paid was double that of a recruit. $10,000 a month. Tax-free. That was what highly trained doctors and lawyers made.

In a sense, Ryan knew what he was getting into when he signed the contract. The compensation was delicious, but the danger was also sky-high. He promised to accept the risks when he signed the contract, so he had no reason to back out now.

It was his duty to protect the secrets of Section X. If that meant dying here, then so be it. He merely wanted to do his part.

Now, all he had to do was wait for the end to come.

Tip. Tap.

This was another genius part of Arnold's scheme. Strength was easy to come by, but maintaining that strength in a cold room for half an hour wasn't as simple. Ryan felt himself shivering in his seat. His lips were dry, and try as he could, he couldn't find a single drop of wetness on his tongue.

Tip. Tap.

Tip. Tap.

Tip. Tap.

At some point, Ryan nodded off in the seat. At that brief instinct, everything was all warm and quiet and comfortable. Nothing could hurt him. He was in a happy place.

It was the sound of the heavy metal door being pushed open that pulled him back into the cruel reality. He looked up and watched as Ryan walked back into the room, a bottle of water in a plastic bottle was in his hands. He pulled a chair over and sat to face his captive once again.

"You must be thirsty. Tell me your name," Arnold raised that bottled water. "and I'll give this to you."

Ryan's expression was unchanged, but he said the first words since he was captured. "Kill me now and get this over with. I'm not telling you anything." It was only when those words left his mouth that he realized how rough his voice was.

"Oh, and why is that?" Arnold kept on pushing. "Are you afraid who you work for will come after you? Don't bother. First of all," He pulled out his gun and waved it in front of Ryan. "I'm the one with the gun standing in front of you right now, not them. Secondly, we can make up some sort of deal."

No response. That didn't stop Arnold from continuing.

"Tell me what I want to know, and I will make it so that it seems like you escaped from me. If you want, I can arrange that you kill a few of my guards. This way, you get home to see your family in one piece, and I get what I want."

Ryan smirked once again. If Arnold thought he was keeping his mouth shut for fear of consequences, he was wrong. He was silent because it was his duty as a member of Section X. He signed a contract. He reaped the benefits of that contract, and now, he wouldn't shy away from paying the price.

It sounded stupid. A wiser one here would think about giving false information and pretending to be working with this Arnold so he could get back to safety, but Ryan has always been a fool.

In school, he was the fool that chose books and work over girls and booze. In Section X, he was once again the fool who chose the firing range and the sparring room over bars and hotels where a number of female recruits would love to join him.

Some called him stupid. Sometimes he thought they were right, but ultimately, this was who he was. This was his choice.

"Come on, that's a great deal!" Arnold exclaimed as he saw the same response he has been getting from Ryan the entire time. "Look, you are as stubborn as my best zealots! I don't get it! What are they giving you that you're willing to die for? Glory? Money? Maybe respect? Tell me, what are you dying for?"

"Duty,"

"Duty?" Arnold couldn't believe his ears. "Duty? Duty to what? The country?"

"To the ones who are paying me. The ones who have their faith in me. The ones who gave me the opportunity to be a part of something great." Ryan replied quietly. "To the hand feeding me."

Arnold paused for a moment before suddenly standing up and whipping out his handgun and pressing it against Ryan's forehead.

"I am going to ask you one last time. Are you willing to die for...for duty?"

The answer was obvious in Ryan's cold gaze and closed lips.

Arnold sighed before pulling the trigger. Ryan sat there quietly, waiting for the greetings of death. Instead, he merely heard a gentle pop.

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding onto.

"This is meaningless…" Ryan started. It was clear what was happening. Arnold was hoping maybe a more intimate brush with death could make him change his mind. Another interrogation tactic, equally useless.

But happened made his eyes widen.

Arnold pushed his pistol back into its holster before suddenly saluting.

"Let me introduce myself again, Recruit Carlson. My name is indeed Arnold, but I am not a terrorist. I am a Section X special agent, and you have not only passed your test, but you have also earned my respect."

---

"This is a test of my loyalty." Ryan concluded quietly as he and Arnold walked through a dim hall.

"Indeed," The man who was Ryan's target just hours ago was now walking right beside him. "we had you shipped back here as soon as we knocked you out. You have been the top of your class in all categories, but this entire operation was meant to see how you work in reality. I have to say, I am impressed. Don't mean any disrespect, but I have seen Special Forces soldiers in the military crumble under similar circumstances."

"The guards I killed outside that house." The Phasewalker suddenly had a question. "Were they also undercover agents?" Ryan knew very well those guards were really dead. Most of this mission might be made-up, but his guns and bullets were very real.

"They weren't. They were gang members. Mercenaries. They didn't know who I really am." Arnold carefully examined Ryan's reaction. "We wouldn't really send our own men to die."

Ryan nodded slowly.

"We're here," The two finally reached the end of the hall. Arnold pulled a door open before retreating to the side. Ryan glanced at him before walking into the room alone.

There, he saw a single person. One very famous person.

"Mr. President." Ryan said quietly as he saluted.