The general had meant what he said when he offered Silas any resource required.
Even a safe house.
We moved Lena to a building deep within Arca's controlled territory. The facility was a small, recently decommissioned training base, utilitarian and stripped down, but structurally sound. It still had a central conference room, several former offices, and a handful of old soldier quarters, which we converted into private bedrooms. Arca had hastily furnished a simple kitchen and adjoining living space, just enough to make the place livable without softening it too much. It wasn’t overly comfortable, but it was secure, predictable, and easy to control. Exactly what we needed to hide a protection witness.
Especially since we learned through the grapevine, thatMarco Bellini had a sizable reward for any information regarding his least favorite escapee.
The general had also assigned five armed security personnel of our choosing to our detail. We selected our most trustworthy AIED officers, Alex Yuri among them, and rotated the officers through shifts to secure the perimeter.
From the outside, it looked like the facility was made operational again. Someone manned the vehicle entry at all times. Guards watched the perimeter and patrolled the grounds. Routine. Expected. The kind of presence no one questioned in Falcon City.
Silas and I stayed on site with the omega.
The general might have approved the safe house and personnel, but he remained skeptical of our revised approach. Silas had assured him that, handled correctly, it would produce results. Not just intel, but a reconditioned omega fit for placement within an Arca military unit.
Even in her current state, Lena still held value. Omegas always did. They were rarely considered expendable.
Command didn’t want to see her wasted in a breeding facility if it could be avoided. But she was too feral to place in a unit as she was. She wouldn’t even let us touch her.
So he also approved sessions with a psychologist from the training center, one who specialized in reconditioning omegas.
Silas had sounded fully confident when he presented the plan to the General. With me, he was far less certain.
Honestly, things had not been going well, and we were in way over our heads.
“Special Officers Knox and Silas Mercer,” the beta woman said as we reached the entry corridor. “Good to meet you. I’m Dr. Bethany Hampton. I’m here to assess the omega in yourcustody.”
“Well, thank fuck for that,” Silas muttered as he stepped forward to shake her hand. I followed suit.
“I take it things haven’t been going well,” Dr. Hampton said calmly. “I understand the omega has suffered severe trauma. Walk me through your interactions with her, then I’ll observe her for myself and we can discuss our strategy for reconditioning.”
She followed us down the hall to the conference room. We took seats at the table while she pulled Lena's files, a notebook, and a pen from her bag.
“Start with her daily routine here,” she said, already scribbling notes. “I know you only recently moved her to the safe house. Has there been any progress in this setting?”
“No,” my brother said flatly.
The psychologist waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, she turned to me.
I shrugged, doing my best to offer more than Silas had. “She’s defiant. Despite being an omega, she doesn't respond to our alpha barks. The runt doesn’t speak, not even a word. Oh and also, she bites.”
“And her routine?” Dr. Hampton prompted.
“She spends most of her time hiding under the bed,” I continued. “She won’t let us touch her, flinches when we get close, and barely eats. We provide breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but she only consumes the bare minimum needed to keep her body functioning. Oh, I noticed she doesn’t like peas.
"She uses the restroom at designated times, but only bathed once before arrival. We haven’t been able to convince her to shower since," Silas picked up where I left off.
“Why not?” the therapist asked.
Silas answered. “Like my brother said. She bites.”
He rolled up his sleeve, revealing his forearm mottled with small, jagged teeth marks. Evidence of the struggle that occurred every time we tried to pull Lena out from her hiding place.
“I see,” Dr. Hampton said quietly. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she made a note.
“Look, doc,” Silas said, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t know how much Command told you about what my brother and I do for AIED.”
“They were thorough,” she replied without looking up.
