This is a new project. It’s a very rough draft, but I thought I’d float it up here to see what people think. 

1

Sheila Hewson heard them before she saw them. Voices, like down a hallway, or just outside the room. The voices came closer, and she could make out some words.

“Recovery…miracle…time…” This was a woman’s voice, gentle. It made Sheila feel safe, like nothing bad could happen to her. Nothing else, anyway. Where did that come from? Why did she think that? Had something bad happened?

A different voice, now, male, strong, gruff. “No miracle…government property…soldier…”

That’s right, she was a soldier. Sheila. Sheila the soldier. That felt right, felt good, felt…pain? A stabbing pain lanced through her foot and Sheila snapped her eyes open.

“What the fuck?!?” She exclaimed. Or at least she thought she did. What came out of her mouth was more like a very weak “Wafuc?”

“Good, you’re awake,” a voice said. Sheila managed to focus her eyes on the man standing at the end of the hospital bed. Her hospital bed, she realized with a start. She was in the hospital. What the fuck was she doing in the hospital?

“Who are you?” Sheila took her time and formed the words carefully, then looked around the room. She saw a glass of water on a table by her bed and reached for it.

Except her wrists were tied down. Padded restraints made reaching for anything impossible. She pulled against the straps, but the leather cuffs were fastened tight around her wrists and lashed to the rails of her hospital bed. “Why am I tied down? Where the fuck am I? Where is Captain Stillman? What is going on?” Her voice climbed with every question until the man stepped forward and pressed a hand against her mouth.

“Shut. Up.” Sheila glared up at him from over his hand, then tried to bite him. He kept his palm cupped, so she couldn’t get a good grip on his flesh with her teeth. The man leaned in, his aftershave rolling over her like a wave.

“Be quiet and I’ll explain everything.” He stayed there, leaning over her, until she realized he was waiting for her to respond. She nodded, and he straightened up and took his hand away. He turned to a woman standing behind him. “You may go.”

“I can’t leave!” the woman protested. “This patient just came out—“

“Out,” the man said, and the authority in his voice was undeniable. The woman, presumably a doctor, gave a huff, turned on her heel, and walked out.

The man turned back to Sheila, his brown eyes boring into her. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know. Are you ready?”

Sheila nodded.

“Okay,” the man said. “You were in a jeep riding to the DMZ when your vehicle was struck by what we believe was an RPG. You were thrown from the vehicle, which probably saved your life. The driver and other passenger were killed. You were stabilized in Korea, then eventually flown here, to Fort Powell, once it became clear that your condition was going to requite long-term care.”

“Fort Powell? I’ve never heard of a Fort Powell. Where am I?” Nothing this man said made sense. He had no insignia, not even a uniform. He wore a suit and tie, but he carried himself like a soldier. Mercenary? Civilian contractor? Retired military? None of this made sense.

That must have shown on Sheila’s face, because the man’s expression softened, and he pulled a chair over to her bedside. “Let me start simple,” he said, sitting down. “Your jeep was attacked, we assume by the North Koreans, although there is some evidence pointing to an attack by Northern sympathizers from the South. But that doesn’t matter. You were the only survivor, and that just barely. You were put into a medically-induced coma and brought here. This is Fort Powell, an off-book installation in the mountains of Eastern Tennessee. We do a lot of things here, but the reason you’re here is our T.E.C.H. Ops program.”

“Your what?”

“Tech Ops. Tactically Enhanced Cybernetic Humans. We blend technology with organic tissue to create a specialized, high advanced elite strike force. A force that you are now a part of.”

Something ugly was starting to bubble up inside Sheila’s head. A memory, or maybe a series of memories. Riding along, Derek in the front seat beside Corporal Green from the motor pool. A screeching sound, then an explosion. Fire, pain, incredible pain, a sensation of flying, then…nothing. Nothing until that moment when she woke up as…what?

“I think I remember, at least a little. Derek?”

“Sergeant McCoy was killed in the attack, along with Corporal Green. I’m sorry.” He did look sorry, this civilian that looked like military. Something in the way he said it made Sheila believe that he had led men, and lost men, in battle.

She closed her eyes. Derek was dead. Derek was dead, Green was dead, and she was still alive. Where was the justice in that? Derek, with his sparkling eyes, stupid jokes, and three-year-old son at home that he Skyped with every couple of days. And Green. She didn’t really know Green, but she knew he was young, unmarried, and had a weakness for South Korean women that had landed him in hot water with the CO more than once when fathers came to the base to complain.

She opened her eyes. Time to get moving, soldier. Now get these straps off and get your gear. Some son of a bitch blew you up, it’s time to blow him up right back.

“That didn’t take long,” the man remarked.

“What?”

“For you to make the switch from confused to pissed off. You’re ready to hunt down the bastard that shot you and kill him, aren’t you?”

“He killed Sergeant McCoy and Corporal Green, sir. I’m a Marine, we don’t take that shit lightly.”

“No, you don’t, Sergeant. But the man that fired the rocket is dead. What we haven’t been able to do is track down who he’s working for. But we will. And when we do, you had better believe that person or persons will be taken out with extreme prejudice.”

“Who exactly are you, sir?”

“My name?”

“Or anything else would be fine. Like why you’re in civilian clothes, why you’re at my bedside, and why you picked me for whatever project you’ve got going on here.”

“Your CO said you were sharp. Good to see he’s still got a good eye. I’m Franklin Wayne, but most people call me Duke.”

“Because you’ve got the complexion of mayonnaise?” She asked the exceptionally tan man.

“Good one. No, my middle name is John. When that gets out, the jokes start. It saves time if I just tell people to call me Duke. I’m in civilian clothes because I’m technically a civilian. I was injured back in Fallujah. Double amputation below the knee. I came home, spent a year feeling sorry for myself, then got my shit together and starting working on this project.”

“TECH Ops.”

“TECH Ops,” he repeated.

“I got what it stands for, but I don’t know what you mean,” Sheila admitted.

“Would it make more sense if I told you that you were a quadruple amputee after the explosion?”

“Bullshit. I can feel my arms and legs. I can move my arms and legs.”

“You can feel arms and legs, and they are your arms and legs. But they aren’t the arms and legs you were born with. The explosion took off your left leg and arm at the hip and shoulder, shattered your pelvis, broke all but one of your ribs, took your right arm three inches below the shoulder, and your right leg just above the knee. It also blew off your nose, but compared to everything else, building you a new nose was a relatively simple affair.”

“Then how can I feel everything? I know something about prosthetics, we had a guy in our unit who had an arm replaced, and he was still able to shoot, drive, do pretty much anything he wanted. He only said he had to be careful wiping his ass, but I always figured he was joking. But technology is only so good. You can’t fake nerves.”

“We don’t. Fake them, that is. We use almost microscopic fiber-optic wire to replace the severed nerves, and transmit signals just like your real ones. You won’t tell much difference between your new arms and legs, and your old ones. At first, anyway. Once you learn how to use them like normal limbs, then we’ll get to the ‘E.’”

“The ‘E?’”

“Yes, Sergeant Hewson. Once you learn to walk, and throw, and catch, and type, and shoot, and fight again. Then we’ll teach you what your enhanced limbs can really do.”

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