Chapter Text
The main character: General Francis Xavier Hummel. Usually I like to change male characters I like into their female versions (adapt them to suit myself), but there are also some that are hard to adapt. Such, for example, are Neo from the Matrix, Wolverine of the X-Men and several others.
Frank's story is, of course, tragic. Even watching this movie as a child, I didn’t perceive him as a bad character, and over time when I began to listen to the characters’ words, and not just watch the action, I began to perceive many of them differently.
Writing from the male character’s POV is, of course, more difficult, but I always prefer to experience the story through the protagonist’s eyes (it doesn’t matter whether it’s a man or a woman), rather than watching from the side writing or reading the third person stories.
Several bullets pierce my body, I fall, but manage to fire several times before the gun falls out of my hand. The shootout continues. There is someone else... Major Baxter, struck by bullets, falls dead...
Burning pain turning into numbness... Someone grabs me from behind and drags away. Have no strength to resist. The wounds are fatal, but I don’t think about that... I’m not angry at them... I’m only angry at myself. They believed me... Until this moment... It's cold...
“God, what have I done...”
“Where’s the last rocket? Where’s the last rocket?!” shouts the one who’s shielding me from the bullets of my former comrades, while the other one is shooting, diverting attention from us.
Must say... Maybe they will be able to fix this... It’s getting dark, I can’t breathe. Scared. Scared because of what I did. It shouldn't have been like this... I didn't want it... I wanted justice for my people: the dead and the survivors... I let them down...
“Come on... Where is the last rocket?!”
“Lower lighthouse...” is all I manage to say. The view and sounds gradually fade away, darkness surrounds me, and now I am already flying somewhere forward along a long tunnel towards a bright light...
It's getting closer... closer... No sense of danger. Although what is out there is unknown... but I am no longer afraid. Fear, resentment, anger, helplessness – all this is behind... And if the torments of hell await me, then it is deserved. Goodbye... And forgive me for everything, if you can...
&Play the soundtrack while reading the next episode
...The bright light hits my eyes. I involuntarily wince, but can’t shield myself – my hands almost don’t obey me. The whole body feels somehow strangely heavy, hard to move. So I just remain motionless until I can see in the whiteness... beige ceiling tiles with built-in elongated lamps. What?.. What is this place? Did I die? If so, then why does it feel so... alive? I take a cautious breath again, move my fingers, slowly feel myself, continuing to stare blankly at the ceiling. Doesn’t make sense: I remember two bullets in the right thigh, one in the left shoulder, and another that completely killed me - in the heart area... But there’s nothing! Neither scars, nor bandages, or the wounds themselves can be felt under the fabric of clothing. No pain... It was as if all this had never happened at all. What the...
When clarity of vision was more or less restored, I looked around carefully. A small, bright room that looks like... a hospital ward?!
Realizing this felt like an electric shock to me and forced to abruptly take a sitting position, which I immediately regretted, because everything began to blur before my eyes right away. Something not very strong, but still pulls me back. I feel under my black T-shirt for wires that stretch to the devices standing at the head of the bed on which I was lying. I carefully removed the sensors from my chest and remove the cuff from my left shoulder and slowly lowered my legs off the bed. I'm still wearing the entire uniform, except for the jacket.
“What the hell...” I whispered involuntarily, trying to build a logical chain that led to the current circumstances. Did I survive? If so, then how? When did they manage to get me out of there and why? To be court-martialed and then publicly executed for rebellion? I fully admit it... But if I am a prisoner now, where are the handcuffs, where are the guards, where...
Suddenly the door opened, causing me to jump to my feet and instantly turn towards the entrance. A young woman in a white medical coat stood on the threshold and looked at me in surprise with her wide opened brown eyes. Dark hair pulled back into a low bun, a stethoscope hangs from her neck, and she’s holding some kind of folder in her hands. Large facial features, almost complete absence of makeup, height about a head shorter than me. She stood frozen in the doorway, not daring to either enter or leave.
“General, you... you...,” she began hesitantly, which made me freeze, rooted to the spot. How did she call me? This woman – who is she, a doctor or a nurse? – nevertheless, still decides to cross the threshold. “How are you feeling?”
“You speak strange,” I said warily, still not understanding anything, “and act too.”
“What?..” the woman in a medical gown looks confused. “Sir, I don't understand you.”
“Here you go again,” I continued to look her straight in the eyes, but the doctor, apparently, spoke completely sincerely. She doesn’t know who I am, doesn’t know what I did... Otherwise she would behave completely differently. Years of military service taught me to recognize lies in looks, behavior and gestures. Okay, let's go from the other side: “What kind of place is this? How did I end up here?”
“You don’t remember?” she frowned for a second, and then smiled somehow condescendingly: “Yes, it’s not surprising, after what happened to you...” She put the folder on the nightstand on the left, which I hadn’t paid attention to before, and gestured towards bed: “Sir, you better sit down. In your current state...”
“You didn’t answer my questions,” I crossed my arms over my chest expectantly, but didn’t take a step. I don’t need their false sympathy; it’s better to just do what they have to do right away. However, I have the right to know. Yes, a confident statement.
&Play the soundtrack while reading the next episode
Suddenly the door opened again and two more men entered the room. One of them is elderly wearing glasses who also has a mustache and thin hair, dressed in a white medical coat, and the second... Taller than me, salt-and-pepper hair color, thick eyebrows, a small scar above the right, brown eyes, large nose, thin lips, stubble on his cheeks, dressed in military uniform.
“General Peterson,” seeing him, I involuntarily smiled sadly, “I should have guessed.” He didn’t remain in the shadows for long. I wouldn’t be surprised if Kramer’s people, and maybe he himself, were watching us at this moment: just now I saw a working video camera in the far right corner, right under the ceiling. What do you want, I wonder...
“Frank, I'm glad you you’re awake, we were very worried. How are you feeling?”
I paused for breath, looking at him as if I had never seen him before. Did I hear that right? Might understand the doctor who came in first, but... James Peterson? And he still looks at me like... What the hell is going on here?! Is he kidding me?!
“Frank?” General Peterson was somewhat confused.
“General Hummel?” the hitherto silent elderly doctor turned to me.
“He's a little disoriented, sir,” the female doctor intervened. Hard to say to whom of them she was addressing, but her next words were said to me: “General, please... You are in severe shock. Please sit and calm down, we will help you, everything will be fine.”
No, it's not just annoying, it's infuriating, you know. Shock? Is that what they call it?! My fingers squeezed into fists of their own accord, I clenched my teeth, feeling a full of fiery anger rising in my chest. Rebellion erases all past respect, ranks become deprived, past merits have no meaning. Or maybe they... No, they definitely won’t forgive this. And their conscience doesn’t bother them, and they never had shame. At the same time arguing is useless, I already understood that. Just recently there was still hope that they would listen to me... and you can guess how it all turned out.
Conciliatorily showing them my open palms, I took a step back with a dissatisfied sigh and slowly sat down on the bed, continuing to watch all three. Now they, nevertheless, risked approaching.
“I’m Dr. David Springer, General Hummel,” the gray-haired, mustachioed man in a white coat introduced himself, “the head of the medical corps at the Chester Base. This,” his right hand pointed towards the woman, “is Dr. Matthews.”
Civilians, flashed through my head. This man, judging by his appearance, is about fifteen years or so older than me. Not all doctors on military bases are directly active military personnel. Question of qualifications. Wait... what did he say?
&Play the soundtrack while reading the next episode
“Chester Base?” I repeated incredulously. One of the secret military bases located in the D.C., where... let's say, they study the technologies of our enemies that have fallen into our hands. Well, or potential enemies, whatever you want to call them. “Why am I here?” I didn’t voice the second part of the phrase ‘and not in prison’ just in case.
All three looked at each other in surprise.
“Frank,” James Peterson coughed uncertainly, “what is the last thing you remember?”
“A shootout,” I answered directly, without breaking eye contact. If the situation wasn't so strange, I would have grinned, because Peterson's face became completely...
“A shootout?” the elderly doctor asked in surprise. His colleague, looking confused, ran her hands to her sides and pursed her lips, and Peterson just looked at me silently. “General Hummel, you were struck by an electrical impulse comparable in power to a lightning bolt. The chances of survival after something like this are one in seventy or even one in a hundred.”
“What?..” I asked incomprehensibly, feeling as if the room began to spin, and the bed beneath me floated somewhere away. “A lightning strike?” I looked at my hands: there were no burns, I didn’t feel any pain anywhere, just a general state of some fatigue like after field training. “Impossible.”
“To be honest, we are shocked too, sir. I had never encountered anything like this before. Whatever charge struck you, it didn’t cause any external physical damage to you, but seriously impaired your brain activity. You've been in a coma for the last twenty hours.”
“Wait, how can it be?” I again raised my hands to chest level, stood up and walked three steps away from them. Chester Base, something we came to inspect... but that was ten days ago! I haven't visited this place again in the recent past. Well, for sure...
“Frank,” Peterson took the floor again, “yesterday we arrived here to monitor the progress of research on a recently discovered unknown object.”
“An orb,” an image immediately popped into my head of a metal ball, somewhere the size of a basketball, with shimmering blue patterns all over its surface.
“That’s right,” James nodded in agreement, “something went wrong during the tests. The force field turned off, the sphere flew into the air and began shooting energy blasts in all directions. Everyone was ordered to evacuate, but you...”
“You somehow managed to return the object behind the force barrier, however...”
&Play the soundtrack while reading the next episode
I didn’t really listen to what the elderly doctor was saying next. True, a spherical object that was discovered by miners in Pennsylvania while working. Things went bad there, four miners died because of this thing. The military intervened and the object was transported here for study. I was interested in finding out what it was... so to speak, before my last mission, so I volunteered to go lead the inspection team. Kramer approved this, but for some reason he also sent Peterson with me. Needless to say, for the military and scientists here, the appearance of two top ranks at once was a real shock.
In any case, in my memory nothing unusual happened back then. The object didn’t show any new properties, no matter what killed the miners who found it... And then we left. The report at that time turned out to be quite meager, there were more questions than answers, the scientists here continued their work, but I switched to a more important task for myself at that moment: the very last desperate attempt to force the Pentagon to listen to me.
“Congressman Weaver and members of the Armed Services Committee, I came before you to protest a grave injustice.”
My speech in Congress was tough, I almost shouted at them, appealed to their conscience, if anyone has it, to the need to do what was right... And after everything in response... Simply put, their reaction could be described as: “Thank you, we heard you.” If they had at least given me a warning or even dismissed me for such a scandal... But no, they behaved very... restrainedly, understandingly even on some levels. After that, many secretly told me that they respected my action... But that's all.
Then they showed me black and white CCTV footage. There was no sound, so I couldn’t say what exactly happened there. If only I could remember... One way or another, the sphere was in the center of a large room behind a cubic force field, scientists affected it with some kind of rays, then something happened: the object flared up, the energy barrier surrounding turned off, the ball came off the pedestal by several tens of centimeters and began shooting ball lightning... The scientists rushed away. Then I saw myself next to the object, pressing something on the control console near it, and after five seconds the force field again surrounded the strange orb, which, nevertheless, managed to hit me with an energy beam in the head... Just a moment... why did I hesitate? Just froze, looking at the strange object, didn’t try to dodge...
“How many victims?” I asked in an even voice, watching as the recording started from the beginning.
“Three scientists received burns of varying severity, but there’s no threat to their lives,” Dr. Springer answered me.
“Good,” I responded quietly, still having difficulty perceiving what was going on. I don’t believe it... all this can’t be real. They're just fooling me.
Then came the medical examination. Peterson went away somewhere, leaving me alone with the team of doctors. Fortunately, I didn’t have to endure it for long: just an ECG, EEG, blood pressure measurement, blood test... Everything else will have to be dealt with upon returning to the Pentagon.
“MRI, angiography... psychological examination... Are you kidding me?!” I was stunned when heard everything listed by the head physician. There were just two of us in his office: sitting at his desk, he was taking notes, while I was sitting opposite, slightly sideways to him.
“I understand, sir,” he calmly adjusted his glasses, again making some notes on his card, “but we must be one hundred percent sure that the incident didn’t have a serious impact on your body. The consequences may appear in a month, a year, ten years... Therefore,” he stopped writing and looked at me, “you will need to undergo medical examinations once a week during this month...”
“What...”
“...then once a month for a year. And then we will see further.”
“Hell, no,” I jumped up sharply in protest and, leaning my hands on the table, hovered over the doctor, “I’m not a guinea pig to you!”
“General Hummel,” Dr. Springer sighed heavily and, taking off his glasses, leaned back in his chair, “a couple of hours ago we weren’t sure that you would survive, let alone even regain consciousness. We were ordered to wait twenty-four hours; if you didn’t awaken within that time, you would be transferred to the main D.C. military hospital. Therefore,” the elderly doctor twirled his glasses in his hands and, putting them on the table, looked at me with a defiant look in response, “in my report this point is mandatory, not advisory.”
Clenching my fists in irritation, I stepped back from the table. Since childhood I disliked doctors. And what an irony, these people are doing the good thing: treating, saving lives... But the process itself... you understand. During my relatively short life, I have passed through more than one hot spot, and accordingly, in hospitals I was, if not a regular, then a fairly frequent guest, and I know that it’s useless to argue with doctors. I know what it's like. And now...
But we’ve gone completely off topic, don’t you think? It all started with the fact that my own subordinates killed me in a shootout. The outcome of our mission was not what we had planned. As I had planned. I say this as if...
“What the...” a wall calendar to the left of the table caught my attention. The square slider that is moved to the desired date was completely not where it was supposed to be. April 17th... Not the 26th, when everything happened. The current year’s indicated on the calendar header.
“Is something wrong?” Dr. Springer’s calm voice was heard nearby.
“Is this,” I looked at him and pointed my right index finger at the calendar, “the correct date?”
The doctor squinted his eyes in the indicated direction:
“April 17th, yes... Why?”
“No...” I briefly shook my head, pretending that nothing was happening. “No-no, it’s alright. I just...” and, waving my left hand, I confidently finished: “No, nothing.”
This is all wrong, this is wrong, the inner voice repeated in my head. Can't be. It shouldn’t be like that, no. Unreal.
&Play the soundtrack while reading the next episode
General Peterson and I left the base in about forty minutes later. It’s surprising that along with the camouflage jacket, they also returned my ID... That’s what turned out to be unexpected. It was still sunny outside, the weather’s quite decent for mid-spring. Not cold and not hot. To get to the car, we had to walk through at least half of the base. The soldiers that we met along the way weren’t showing any unusual behavior, but several people in white coats stood aside to let us through. Those looked at me with wide eyes. Another whisper came: “It’s him!” But I just lowered my eyes to the floor and passed by.
I also remember that already on the street, passing by the building where the research of that object took place, I felt some strange tension in my chest. As if someone or something called out to me...
“Frank?”
“Hmmm?” I turned around at Peterson’s voice.
“Are you feeling alright?”
“Fine. So... did this happen here?”
“Yes. The facility is now sealed until further notice.”
We had already approached the car, the driver was already in. Two marines opened the back doors for us and saluted. I also saluted them and sat down in the passenger seat on the left. James took place, accordingly, on the right.
“Any idea what this thing was?” I asked when the escorts closed the doors and the car moved towards the main gate.
“I'm afraid not at the moment. The assumptions, of course, are one more incredible than the other, but we will discuss this later in a closed meeting and... Frank, are you sure you’re alright?”
“What?” at that moment I tiredly ran my hands over my head and didn’t immediately understand what he was driving at. “Jim, you shouldn’t take my every gesture as a plea for help. I am not a boy or a feeble old man.”
“Sorry, Frank, but it’s not every day that you see someone hit with a powerful electrical charge, then that someone falls into a deep coma for almost a day, and comes to his senses after it as if nothing had happened. I've seen a lot over the years of service, but this...”
“Was it that bad?” I asked doomedly, squinting from the bright rays of the setting sun. If I'm not mistaken, we have a two-hour drive to Washington. It would be much faster by helicopter...
“They said your brain activity was practically zero, as if...” Peterson hesitated, as if searching for words.
“If what?” I frowned incredulously.
“As if you... weren't there.”
Not there. I clasped my hands and stared blankly at my fingers. Not there... somewhere else. Nonsense... One thought is more incredible than the other. Now I’ll try to formulate... First: I imagined everything, and there was no rebellion, because I didn’t do anything. This is possible... Second: everything was real, I somehow survived, and now for some reason they decided to make it all seem like it was all my imagination. And the third: I was actually in the future... don’t know, mentally transported or something... and then again, in some inexplicable way, I returned back to the time when the mission, doomed in advance, hadn’t even has begun. This is the craziest idea, of course... Probably, the first one of all three is closer to the truth. But the second one shouldn’t be discounted either. This, of course, is too resource-intensive, and the result is not justified. After all, they were ready to burn the entire island with thermal plasma... But I already thought once they could be trusted, so...
“I see...”
“Honestly, Frank, if you hadn't done what you did... I don't even know... You never cease to amaze.”
At another time, perhaps, I would have accepted his praise, but now that I know that they can... Until I can be convinced that all this was just a figment of my imagination, I can trust none of them.
“Anyone would have done this in my place,” I shrugged vaguely, “even you. I was simply the closest to the right control panel.”
“I'm not just talking about that, Frank. Your speech stirred up everyone, you know.”
“But that wasn't enough, right?” I crossed my arms over my chest and stared, waiting for him to continue. Come on, Jim, keep talking. For a moment the thought flashed that he was about to spill the beans, but for some reason the colleague kept delaying his answer. Okay, I'll help: “It's like hitting a wall. Even if, say, I took hostages, stole missiles filled with the VX gas and aimed them at some city, say San Francisco, what would the outcome be?”
Peterson turned pale at my words, and the driver who heard this nervously turned the steering wheel and, straightening the car, frightenedly mumbled an apology. However, I continued:
“Would they come to their senses and do what’s needed, or would they decide to take a desperate step with experimental thermal plasma, sacrifice the minority for the sake of the majority, and in the end would they get theirs?”
“Frank... what are you talking about?” Peterson looked at me like I was crazy. “W-what missiles? What hostages?!”
“None,” I snapped without blinking an eye, calming down a little. “Just a crazy guess of how a mad person would act in my place.” Okay, this round is his. But I still won't fall for it. “Good thing, I'm not like that.”
“I really hope so,” Peterson was no longer at ease. At least in appearance. Then his cell phone rang: “Yes, Al, hello.” He brought the phone to his left ear. “We're on our way. Yes, he's here next to me. I don’t know, you’ll see for yourself soon.”
I pursed my lips and turned away with displeasure. Kramer... Well, great.
“Say hello to him,” I muttered, looking out the window.
“The medical board is already waiting,” Peterson responded once finished the phone conversation, “by the way, he says hello to you too.”
In response I just squeezed out a restrained smile and turned away again.
We spent almost the entire rest of the journey in silence. Although most of the time I was looking out the window, still felt the gaze of the military man sitting next to me. The driver also periodically watched me in the rearview mirror. What's going on anyway, huh? Is this for real? In a dream on can also feel pain and, even more so, get scared, however, in order to be so realistic...
Now I didn’t even think about how many unpleasant sensations I would experience during the upcoming medical examination when we arrived. I didn’t think what I would say and how I would react when I saw colleagues who already knew one hundred percent about everything... No, my thoughts were occupied by something completely different. A few hours ago I was in a completely different place, in a hopeless situation that I myself created! Then - that’s it, my own people, whom I thought I could trust, turned against me... And suddenly I’m here... Alive and well... And, supposedly, in the past.
And what I saw on CCTV cameras... This couldn’t happen! I don’t remember... There was an orb, but, as I said, nothing like that happened in my memory. The further we go, the more questions and fewer answers. Some kind of parallel universe...
&Play the soundtrack while reading the next episode
While deep in thought, I didn’t even immediately notice how and when we reached the city... And then, to be honest, I felt uneasy again. Very soon... I wonder if they will arrest me right away, or will they continue to act as if nothing happened? Well, guess we'll find out now...
In the city flow of cars we weren’t driving so fast anymore. Post meridiem, evening traffic jams will begin soon. The thought flashed that it would be nice to get at least into one, in order to delay the unpleasant moment. But even though the traffic is dense, there are still not enough cars to be blocked. At one of the traffic lights a dark blue car pulled up next to us, with a married couple in the front seat and two little girls in the back. They were taking turns looking out the window on my side, and when the light turned green, they even managed to wave to me. I answered them the same with a smile...
Back then, having arrived at Alcatraz, whether it happened or not, along with my team as part of a tour group, so as not to arouse suspicion, I asked the schoolgirls who were there not to go inside with the others.
“Hey, girls, hi. You’re having a good time?”
“Yeah.”
“Will you do something for me? It’s really-really important. I need you to tell your teacher that you urgently need to get back on the boat and go home right now.”
At least I managed to keep the children out of it... They shouldn't have been a part of this. Everyone else was simply unlucky: wrong time, wrong place.
The car passed the checkpoint. Jim Peterson and I showed our IDs, to which the guards immediately retreated and stood at attention, which again made me feel uneasy. The barrier rose and we entered the Pentagon territory, and a few moments later we arrived at the main entrance.
“Well, here we are,” Peterson announced, getting out of the car first.
“Here we are,” I stated doomedly, following his example. We headed inside the building itself freely, I meam no one was trying to arrest me. There weren't even any reproaches. On the contrary, the few people I ran into on the way... nodded respectfully, some even said hello. All this is still extremely suspicious. Stay on guard, Frank, don't let them fool you. Even if you can't get out of this, at least you'll know where the catch is.
Soundtracks (with chapter episodes):
1) Captain America OST – Frozen In Time; (awakening)
2) Tomb Raider Legend OST - Japan 3; (unexpected meeting)
3) X-Men 2 OST – Alkali Lake; (news about a lightning strike)
4) The Hunger Games Mockingjay Part 1 OST - It's Gonna Be A Long Night; (what happened)
5) Mass Effect: Andromeda OST – Ambient Music #1; (return from base)
6) Maze Runner: The Scorch Trials OST - Your New Lives (arriving to the Pentagon)