Olivia groaned stepping out of the helicopter, she had enough of fucking mutants for a lifetime but she still had a few tricks up her sleeve. Not only was she almost certain that the Mexican authorities would despise her for the remainder of her life, she could never wipe the memory of having an asshole dig through her bra for drugs she didn’t even fucking own. Besides, being stuck on the other side of the border with a sombrero wasn’t exactly on her bucket list. At least she had other things to focus on, having one of her new project’s friends die was convenient for the sake of her mind warping torture. She knew Tamara had nothing to live for, except her sister but that little bitch was still kicking. Olivia didn’t see the benefit in taking two lives when she could take one and manipulate one to rid the world of the other in a show of loyalty.
“Director Chase, we’re fetching the prisoner now. Would you like anything while you wait?”, Olivia’s eyes narrowed at the guard leading her through the hallways to the familiar bland interior of the interrogation cells in the basement.
“Get out of my sight”, the words were cold and distant as she slipped inside the room. Olivia waited patiently for the familiar sight of Tamara strapped into the chair, she saw the battered and bruised vacancy of the woman she’d seen before. It brought her a sense of joy after the rollercoaster of a ride across the border just a week ago.
“Miss Lyell, how wonderful of you to join me. How have my men been treating you?”, there was a dark touch to the grin settling over the director’s lips. Olivia set the photographic proof of Samantha’s passing on the table face down, she’d ease into the terrible news even though she adored the idea of breaking the mutant anymore. She would use Tamara’s mutation to her own advantage, she’d turn her against her very own kind
WORD COUNT: ### | OUTFIT: HERE | NOTES: @samuel  
It was a routine Asset #00217 was familiar with by now; another visit to Marin Island's interview rooms and another question-and-answer session for her. Over the past few weeks she'd spilled everything that she knew about the Xavier School, about mutants in general...anything and everything she could think, even the most inconsequential thing or item that came to mind she gave them. She didn't really have a choice in it; her sentence was life on this rock off the California coast with no chance to ever touch the mainland U.S. again so why bother trying to hold anything back, she thought. All she knew is that she didn't want to endure another round of beatings again or time in solitary again so if that turning her back on her fellow mutants, then so be it.
As the guards brought her to the interview room and strapped her down in the chair, she saw the woman - she now knew who she was - sitting opposite her on the other side of the table, #00217 smiled, a wan smile that reflected her station in life. "Welcome back, Director Chase," she said, no emotion to her voice anymore....that, like everything else of hers, was but a memory to her, something unneeded in this cold, harsh facility.
“Miss Lyell, how wonderful of you to join me. How have my men been treating you?”, there was a dark touch to the grin settling over the director’s lips. "They've been treating me alright, I guess," she said wanly. "Between working out in the prison gardens and everything else, its' been alright," pausing as the woman spread photographs of the now-deceased Samantha Archer, laid open on a hospital morgue table like a scientific specimen...but rather than grieve, #00217 (she'd been so broken weeks before both physically and mentally that her number was all she cared to remember) simply shrugged and said, "I guess that's going to be all of us in the end eventually," a little bit of emotion creeping into her voice. "But I guess you didn't come here, Director, to chat about old times so what would you like to ask me?" she said, the emotion slipping back out of her voice as she waited to hear what the other woman was going to say...
Olivia was genuinely pleased at the broken shell of a mutant who was happy to blend into the new way of life, a life dedicated to the sole succession of GADEM and it’s relentless efforts to save the world from an evolved pest. Her brow lifted curious at the almost nonchalant reaction to the news of a fellow mutant, someone personally close to her, dead like nothing more than a science experiment. Olivia nodded calmly, at least the prisoner was smart enough to know there was no casual visit, nothing more pure business for a woman who worked day and night to stop the mutant kind in their tracks.
“It’s always a pleasure to get down to business”, a sly grin slipped over Olivia’s features as she looked over the mutant with vile distaste coated in a professional stoic persona. “it’s simple really, it appears you’ve learned your lesson, became a number and no longer carry the traits of who you were. Good behavior gets rewarded and I’ve recently become more curious about the underground protection dedicated to smuggle mutants under our radar”, Olivia approached the mutant and leaned over to meet her empty gaze at an equal level.
“You’ll be the perfect infiltrator”, Olivia knew the company’s science division finally finished on an experimental implantation of a microscopic explosive that essentially attached to and severed the spinal cord at the base of the skull. It was the perfect leash. “I prefer full dedication to sell a lie, if you’re going to be acting on our behalf as a mutant diving into the nasty fucking savior groups that offer salvation to your kind, well then we’ll have to ensure you look the part”. Olivia waved a hand at a tall, burly guard who stepped through the door.
“I would admit to hating the torture but lying seems impractical in this case”, Olivia once again stood back waiting as the information sunk in. her fingers held the burly guard at bay, she wanted to see if there was still a flicker of what the mutant used to be. She needed to know if it was worth pulling her from the bland reality of grey walls and a damned future to infiltrate and work against her own kind in the name of a company that viewed them as nothing more but nagging pests who posed a threat to the human race.
WORD COUNT: ### | OUTFIT: HERE | NOTES: @samuel  
“It’s always a pleasure to get down to business”, a sly grin slipped over Olivia’s features as she looked over the mutant with vile distaste coated in a professional stoic persona. “it’s simple really, it appears you’ve learned your lesson, became a number and no longer carry the traits of who you were. Good behavior gets rewarded and I’ve recently become more curious about the underground protection dedicated to smuggle mutants under our radar."
"I'm listening," Asset #00217 replied, no trace of emotion in her voice, no trace of emotion about her face as she listened to Director Chase ask about the various mutant rights groups across the country; she knew a good number of them and freely offered up information about them. "Unfortunately, some of them have begun to grow darker in nature," Asset #00217 said. "Before your agents brought me here, there was even talk of a summer "Days of Rage" mutant rights campaign similar to the anti-war campaigns of 1969. I would know more, Director Chase, if I weren't here but..." Before she could continue, Director Chase added, “You’ll be the perfect infiltrator."
"I'm sure I will," Asset #00217 said quietly as Director Chase said in turn, “I prefer full dedication to sell a lie, if you’re going to be acting on our behalf as a mutant diving into the nasty fucking savior groups that offer salvation to your kind, well then we’ll have to ensure you look the part." Pausing her words, Director Chase waved at a burly, swarthy looking guard, who stepped inside. Giving him a long, sideways glance, Asset #00217 said to him, "If you're going to beat me again, at least be even-handed about it," as if expecting to receive another torturous beating but instead Director Chase held him off, waiting for a reply from Asset #00217 before doing anything further.
Sensing an opportunity, Asset #00217 spoke, her words calm, cool and as collected as possible given her station in life at present. "You're right, I prefer full dedication in selling your agenda as well, Director, so what is it you need me to do, where do you need me to go and who do I go after?" It was a simple request; she added, "I've also got to look like I haven't spent the past few weeks getting beaten into submission; if this is to work, Director, I've got to look like I know what I'm doing so that those I go after will trust me because if they don't trust me, I can't do what you request of me."
Looking away for a few moments, a downtrodden look about her quickly replaced by her beaten, submitted look once more, Asset #00217 asked, "So what is it you ask of me, Director?"
Olivia was thoroughly pleased at the absence of emotion or any freedom of will lacing Tamara’s eyes, this was what she strived for and the mutant made for an excellent pawn in the game for control over the future of the human race. Every word dripping from the mutant’s lips bore through Olivia’s mind on an endless loop, she had nothing else except the job and her entire existence was dedicated in fighting the mutant menace. Every word, every syllable that could prove useful was engraved in her memory like a perfect sight she could never shake.
Olivia almost found herself chuckling at the compliance to the brutal beatings, it was the first time she invested into the turning of a mutant by force with her sole dedication on perfecting one soldier. Otherwise, she trusted her most dedicated agents to do their jobs regardless if they put mutants to use. She was well aware of Dylan’s almost unethical way of working but he got her results and as angry as he made her at times, she could overlook his faults.
Olivia waved the burly guard off, for once she was eager to get her own hands dirty. She wasn’t exactly opposed to field work, she was an expert marksman and well trained in the acts of torture but for the benefit of a public appearance on behalf of the company she preferred to keep her hands clean. She craved the chaos of getting her nails dirty with blood and her flesh bruised with the onslaught of a damn good beating.
“You’ll be released in two weeks, my men will groom you so you don’t look as fucking messed up as you do now. You find me mutants, I don’t give a damn where you find them but you find them and you infiltrate their organizations and then you tear them apart from the inside”, Olivia stood up and reeled back her arm before ramming the hard bony prominences of her knuckles into Tamara’s cheek.
“A kind reminder that I will not endure any slacking. Double cross me miss Lyell, and I’ll make the rest of your miserable life a living hell”, Olivia stepped back with a beaming smile. “All I ask of you is your endless dedication to the destruction of your own kind. Will you be able to comply with these wishes, if not I’ll be asking my men to execute you where you stand”. Olivia felt the heavy darkness of the inhumanity driving through her cold heart shake through her words. She meant every syllable with a fiery intensity she only gained from the loss of her child, the brutal murder of a mutant on an innocent soul that didn’t deserve an ounce of pain.
