CHAPTER 6 - The Making Of A Weapon

The morning sun cast long shadows across the compound's training yard as Berry stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the heat waves dance across the Darwin landscape. Her reflection stared back at her, a stranger wearing her face. Six months in this place, and she still felt like she was living in someone else's skin.

"You're up early," Theo's voice came from behind her.

She didn't turn around. "I don't sleep much."

"The nightmares?"

"Fragments. Pieces of things I can't put together." She pressed her palm against the glass. "Sometimes I wonder if it's better not to remember."

Theo moved to stand beside her, careful to maintain distance.

He'd learned that sudden movements still made her flinch. "Memory is a funny thing. Sometimes it protects us by forgetting. Sometimes it protects us by remembering."

"Which one am I?"

"I don't know yet."

Berry finally looked at him. "Who are you really, Theo? And don't give me that security consultant bullshit again."

He studied her face, seeing the sharpness that had emerged over the months. The softness was gone, replaced by something harder, more dangerous. "I'm someone who understands what it means to lose everything."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one I can give you right now."

She turned back to the window. "I overheard your call last night. You were talking to someone about networks still being active. About others like me."

Theo's jaw tightened. "Berry..."

"There are others, aren't there? Still trapped. Still suffering while I'm here playing with computers and learning to fight."

"It's not that simple."

"Isn't it?" She spun to face him, anger flashing in her eyes. "You pulled me out of hell, but you left others behind. How is that complicated?"

"Because saving you nearly got us both killed. Because the people who did this to you have resources and connections that go deeper than you can imagine. Because rushing in without preparation is how good people die for nothing."

Berry stepped closer. "Then stop preparing and start acting."

"You're not ready."

"When will I be ready? When will any of us be ready?" Her voice cracked. "I may not remember what they did to me, but I know what they're doing to others. Right now. While we're standing here talking."

Theo looked at her for a long moment. "You want to know who I am? I'm the son of two people who died because they got too close to the truth. I'm someone who's spent years building the resources and connections needed to bring down an organization that traffics in human lives. And you're the key to everything."

"Why me?"

"Because you survived eighteen months of hell and came out stronger. Because you have skills they couldn't break out of you. Because you're the only one who's seen the inside of their operation and lived to tell about it."

Berry absorbed this, her expression shifting from anger to something darker. "Teach me everything."

"Berry..."

"I don't care about the cost. I don't care about the risk. Those people took my life, my memories, my family. I want them to pay."

Theo saw something in her eyes that made his blood run cold. It was the same look he'd seen in the mirror after his parents died. The look of someone who had nothing left to lose.

"Alright," he said quietly. "But we do this my way. Slow. Careful. Professional."

"Deal."

Three thousand miles away, Harold Clarksville stood in the sterile hallway of Riverside Medical Center, his hands shaking as he gripped the visitor badge. Margaret stood beside him, her face a perfect mask of concern.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Dr. Morrison asked, his voice professionally gentle. "Her condition hasn't improved since last week."

Harold's voice was barely a whisper. "She's my daughter. I need to see her."

Margaret squeezed his arm. "We'll get through this together."

They entered the room in silence. The figure on the bed was small and still, face completely bandaged, breathing through tubes. Machines beeped softly in the corner. Harold approached slowly, his heart breaking with each step.

"Jezza?" he whispered.

No response. The girl in the bed could have been anyone.

"The self-harm episodes have been severe," Dr. Morrison explained. "We've had to keep her heavily sedated. She keeps talking about kidnapping, torture, elaborate fantasies about being held captive."

"Is she getting better?" Harold asked, though he already knew the answer from the doctor's expression.

"We're trying experimental treatments, but progress is slow. Her dissociative episodes are becoming more frequent. She'll need complete isolation for the foreseeable future."

Harold reached toward the bandaged hand, then pulled back. "Can she hear us?"

"It's hard to say. The trauma has created significant barriers in her mind."

Margaret moved to Harold's other side. "The doctors are doing everything they can. We have to trust the process."

As they left the room, Harold broke down completely. Margaret held him as he sobbed, her face a picture of shared grief. But as they walked down the hallway, she allowed herself a small smile.

In the parking lot, she pulled out her phone and sent a quick text: "Package secure. Continue phase two."

The girl in the bed wasn't Jezza. Sarah Chen, a nineteen-year-old runaway with no family to miss her, had been in a medically induced coma for three weeks. Her real injuries were from a drug overdose, but the medical records had been carefully altered. Margaret had paid good money to ensure that Harold would never question the deception.

Back in Darwin, Berry was in the middle of her afternoon training session when the front door slammed. She looked up from the computer where she'd been practicing code-breaking, instinctively assessing the new presence in the house.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, sharp and purposeful. Berry stood, her body automatically shifting into a defensive posture. Six months of training had made her reactions instinctive.

A woman appeared in the doorway, tall and athletic with short dark hair and eyes that could cut glass. She stopped when she saw Berry, her expression shifting from surprise to something colder.

"Who the hell is this?" the woman demanded.

Berry straightened, meeting the woman's glare with one of her own. "I could ask you the same thing."

The woman stepped into the room, her presence filling the space with tension. "This is my partner's house. You're the one who doesn't belong here."

"Cossy." Theo's voice cut through the standoff as he appeared behind the woman. "You're early."

"Apparently not early enough." Cossy's eyes never left Berry. "Want to explain why there's a stranger in your house?"

Theo moved between them, his body language careful and measured. "Cossy Martinez, meet Berry. Berry, this is Cossy, my partner."

"Partner?" Berry's voice was flat.

"Business partner," Theo clarified quickly. "We work together."

Cossy laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Work together. Is that what we're calling it now?"

"Cossy..."

"No, Theo. I've been tracking traffickers across three continents while you've been playing house with your pet project." She looked Berry up and down dismissively. "She's a victim, not an asset."

Berry's hands clenched into fists. "I'm standing right here."

"I can see that." Cossy's smile was sharp. "The question is why."

"Because I asked her to stay," Theo said firmly. "Because she's part of this now."

"Part of what? Your revenge fantasy?" Cossy shook her head. "She's a damaged girl who needs therapy, not weapons training."

"You don't know anything about me," Berry said, her voice dangerously quiet.

"I know enough. I know you're seventeen years old and you've been through hell. I know Theo pulled you out of a trafficking ring and brought you here instead of getting you proper help." Cossy stepped closer. "I know you're in over your head and you're going to get people killed."

"Cossy, that's enough," Theo warned.

"Is it? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you've lost perspective. Again."

The word 'again' hung in the air like a loaded gun.

Berry looked between them, seeing layers of history and conflict she didn't understand. "What does she mean, again?"

"Nothing," Theo said quickly. "Cossy's just..."

"Concerned about my partner's tendency to let his emotions override his judgment," Cossy finished. "It's how his parents died."

The room went dead silent. Berry saw Theo's face go white, saw his hands shake with barely controlled rage.

"Get out," he said quietly.

"Theo..."

"Get out of my house. Now."

Cossy looked at Berry one more time, her expression unreadable. "This isn't over. You don't belong here, girl. And when this all goes to hell, remember that I tried to warn you."

She turned and walked out, leaving Berry and Theo alone in the charged silence.

"Is she right?" Berry asked finally. "Am I going to get people killed?"

Theo was quiet for a long moment. "Everyone gets people killed, Berry. The question is whether they die for something that matters."

"And this matters?"

"More than you know."

Berry studied his face, seeing the pain and guilt that lived behind his eyes. "What happened to your parents?"

"They died because I wasn't careful enough. Because I let my emotions make decisions that should have been made with my head."

"And you think you're making the same mistake as me?"

Theo met her gaze. "I think Cossy might be right about a lot of things. But she's wrong about one thing."

"What's that?"

"You're not just a victim anymore. You're something much more dangerous."

Berry felt a chill run down her spine. "What am I?"

"You're a weapon with a conscience. And that might be exactly what we need."

Outside, Cossy sat in her car, watching the house through the windshield. Her phone buzzed with a text message. She looked at it, then at the house, then back at the phone.

The message was simple: "Target acquired. Proceed with extraction."

She looked at the house one more time, then started the engine. Everything was about to change.

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