Page 16 of Operation: Defiance

I’ve reduced dislocations before. But only in controlled environments with adequate space and both hands free.

Not like this.

I push myself onto my knees, slowly. Deliberately. Guided more by pressure than sight. The floor vibrates beneath me. I find the bench with my shin, then the wall with my shoulder. I widen my stance for balance, brace hard, and angle my torso so the movement will track cleanly.

Drawing in a breath I don’t really have, I roll my shoulder forward and down, forcing it through the arc my body remembers.

The sound is wrong. Wet. Grinding.

I scream. There’s no stopping it.

The floor rushes up to meet me, and I gasp as sweat breaks across my skin. The pain doesn’t vanish, but it changes. Loses its edge. Becomes something dense and punishing instead of blinding.

Workable.

I take inventory.

Ribs. Shallow breaths only. I shift carefully to the left. Then right. The pain answers immediately, sharp enough to make my vision blur.

At least one fracture. Possibly two.

Don’t twist. Don’t cough. Don’t give them another reason to put their hands on you.

My thoughts start to scatter, edges fraying as my body fights for priority. I rock back and forth by inches. Just enough movement to stay oriented. To remind myself where I am.

Portland was supposed to be a training assignment, not whatever this is. Not pain and broken ribs and restraints and a windowless van taking me somewhere I could simply…disappear.

The vehicle skids around a hard turn, and I slam into the wall. A fresh wave of agony flares along my left side. The sound that claws up my throat is something between a scream and a whimper. I force it back down.

I won’t give them anything else they can call resistance.

I focus on the rumble of the engine, using the low, constant background noise to help settle my thoughts. Whatever this is, I have to stay conscious if I have any hope of learning the shape of it.

They didn’t expect cooperation. They expected confusion. And I gave it to them. Just enough to justify the injuries.

That cold realization is worse than the pain. Because now I know this was all intentional.