-1-

For the second time in a week all of Camp Harmony stands in formation in front of the makeshift airfield.

Sgt. Maxwell, Corp. St. John and Corp. Strange stand in the front. The remaining corporals stand behind them, then the privates and behind them the remaining inmates-- who had been ordered not to make eye contact.

Haley and Audrina stood off to the side of the formation, Audrina’s arms were folded and her breathing hitched when the doors of the RLA jet opened.

There are three EUS prisoners dressed in matching green pants and shirts—designed so they would stand out in the desert if they ran. There are shackles on their wrists and ankles and the three men are connected at their waist by a short chain. Their eyes and mouths are covered with what look like thin metal strips. They walk  in unison, in short shuffling steps.

The prisoners are escorted off the plane  and down the ramp by  two RLA special forces  and a their captain. The captain and Maxwell salute each other, exchange brief words and then St. John and Strange take the lead chains from the special forces men.

Exchange complete.

St. John and Strange lead the EUS prisoners past every member of the camp as they start mile the walk back to camp. A few privates had  projectiles hidden in their clothing and threw trash as the prisoners passed, some called them names.

 Maxwell turned a decidedly blind eye to it.

As they pass, Haley is struck by how similar the prisoners look. Their mouths and eyes are covered by the metal strips but their faces have the same sloping cheekbones, straight noses and shorn  hair.

The prisoners are taken to the infirmary for their intake exams. Per protocol the prisoners where to be guarded at all times which crowded the infirmary more than Audrina would have liked.

Audrina stands confidently  in front of the prisoners chained in front of  her. She goes to the first one and carefully rolls up his green shirt sleeve. The prisoners eyes are still covered by the metal strip and the blinded man bristles at her unexpected touch.  He backs away from her on instinct and the surrounding corporals each draw their weapons. 

“It’s okay,” Audrina says. She lightly dabs  disinfectant on the prisoner’s  shoulder. He can’t see or speak to her, but she is certain he can hear. “I’m just going to take some blood now, it should only pinch--”

Maxwell clears his throat and when she catches his eye he shakes his head at her. These men were enemies of the Republic. There were no niceties for them and it was strictly against protocol for her to talk to them.

Haley knew people in the East worshiped technology and science like most people worshiped a God. Their entire bodies belonged to a grid of nonstop information. Every physical, emotional and personality trait was created and manipulated at the molecular level.

 Abstractly, he’d thought of people in the East  as artificial  robots.

But as he watched Audrina’s needle pierce the first man’s skin he was surprised by just how human he seemed. The prisoner’s teeth clenched as the needle made contact and blood flowed freely into the tube.

 For all the security protocols from headquarters, the prisoners hardly seemed to pose a threat. They didn’t show any resistance throughout Audrina’s exam not even when they were temporarily unchained and made to strip for a full body scan.

“No disease. No cybernetics. No health issues. Nothing abnormal, sir,” Audrina says looking at her screen.

“Good. Mark them,” Maxwell commands her.

 Using a large needle Audrina  inserts the RLA tracking device into each of their wrists. Then she and Corp. Strange each pick up a black tattooing needle and a stencil to mark the back of the prisoners necks with a single Roman numeral; I, II and III

.Once the tattoos are done, Maxwell unlinks the chain that holds the men together and addresses his corporals

“Take I to the prisoner barracks and put II and III in separate solitary cells,” Maxwell orders.

Before the corporals can lay hands on the prisoners and escort them away the prisoner marked II begins to make sounds. His voice is muffled against the gag over his mouth but he is  repeating the same sound and shaking his head. Haley can’t hear the word, but he can guess the intention.

No.

After a moment of being stunned by the prisoners sudden outburst the corporals take II and walk him out, he fights against his restraints and shackles—his face turning red as he resists.

The corporals have to lift and drag him screaming out the infirmary door. The other prisoners don’t fight as they are seperated but Haley notices I’s body shaking and swaying like he is contemplating attack.

 

***

In the third day of the POWs stay in Camp Harmony the blindfolds of the prisoners are  removed for work detail.

 Each morning the POWs were chained together in the cellar of the administration building and made to press uniforms until nightfall each day. Uniforms came in from all over the Republic and they worked quickly and after a few hours they begin to work almost in perfect unison. Pressing and folding at the same time until nightfall.

 

Maxwell came down multiple times a day to observe the prisoner’s work and Haley had made a habit of following unless Maxwell ordered him elsewhere. Like everyone in Camp Harmony he was curious about these men. 

The rhythm of their work was interrupted when POW I made brief eye contact with Haley. His eyes were a startling shade of blue.

They all were.

“It’s not break time, prisoner,” Corporal Halloran barked at POW I and he cast his eyes back down.

Maxwell presses his hand into Haley’s shoulder and he bristles at the touch. With a light tug Maxwell motions him to follow him back upstairs to the offices

“Do you think they can communicate, sir ?,” Haley asks as they climb the staircase. "The way they work in unison is so strange."

Maxwell stops mid step , one step above Haley. After a beat he turns and leans down, touching Haley’s mouth lightly before parting his lips with his tongue. Haley stiffens.

At first Maxwell had been distant with Haley since they'd fought in his office and Haley had welcomed the coldness. But as headquarters demanded more of him, Maxwell had been using him as stress relief. Haley forced himself to become numb to everything--as long as he didn’t fight or become insubordinate Maxwell didn’t hurt him.

And sometimes, like when Maxwell kissed him and pulled all his attention to him.

He liked it.

He felt deeply ashamed for that, but he only had 4 more months to spend at Camp Harmony. Haley would do whatever he he had to do to survive and then he'd never come back.

Maxwell wraps his fingers through Haley’s ponytail and lowers Haley to his knees, Maxwell unzips his pants and leans against the staircase wall. Within seconds the only sound in the staircase is Maxwell’s quiet labored breathing and finally a panted curse as he climaxes.

“Don’t be so fucking naive,” Maxwell says moments later, pulling Haley up and zipping his pants back.

“I’m sorry, sir ?”

“Those prisoners are only human,” Maxwell explains as he continues up the staircase, his hand lingering in Haley's. “They can’t communicate telepathically. If they could  they would have called in back up by now.” 

“….What if their spying on us ?,” Haley asks.

“Are you afraid of them or something ?”

“No, sir--” 

“Good,” Maxwell says. “The privates have their drill finals tomorrow and I need all available corporals with me. I want you to fill in some of the corporal's duties.”

“Yes, sir.”

  

***

-2-

 

Maxwell was in his best form when he got to command control.

It was the first time  Haley had ever seen Maxwell in fatigues. Maxwell walked purposefully through the rows of privates standing at attention in the middle of camp ground. There was something close to zeal in his eyes as he inspected each of them.

They were three hours into the eight hour drill practice and Maxwell hadn’t lost anyone permanently. When a man had locked his knees Maxwell and two corporals yelled at him until he could recover. Haley knew Maxwell probably wouldn’t be truly happy until he made atleast one man cry.

“FORWARD MARCH, RIGHT FLANK,” Maxwell calls and the lines of  privates begin to move around him.

“DOUBLE TIME,” he calls and the lines move faster around him. “RIGHT OBLIQUE MARCH.”

The orderly lines move a clean 45 degrees down the center of camp. One unfortunate private is out of sync and Maxwell grabs his collar and barks at the private to do 50 push ups.

Maxwell looks up from the  struggling private and catches Haley’s eyes. Haley adverts his gaze  and goes back to work. He walks quickly to the small two story building on the edge of camp where Corp. Maddox stands outside.

“What do you want ?,” Corp. Maddox asked as Haley approaches him.

 He knew the corporals all hated him because Maxwell had taken an interest in him. Corp. Maddox was in an especially foul mood since he was assigned guard duty and missed a day of verbally harassing privates.

“I have lunch for the…prisoners, sir.” Haley said holding up the pair of covered trays. "Sgt. Maxwell asked me to cover for Corp.--

“Just go," Corp. Maddox barks

The first floor of the building looked like a barren office, with a desk and chair pushed in the corner and an RLA insignia on the wall. The two solitary confinement cells were built into the attic and the basement so detainees couldn’t talk to each other.

Haley goes to the basement and finds the prisoner marked as I sitting in the corner of the barred cell, his knees pulled in and his head down. There are scratch marks on the man’s skin, his wrists are scabbed over and purple bruises like he’d been beaten up recently mark his face.

The prisoner moves quickly on his knees to the front of the cell when hear hears Haley comes in.

Startled by the sudden movement, Haley quickly sets the tray of scraps from breakfast on the floor near the bars. The prisoner pushes  his face eagerly against the titanium bars. As Haley backs away, the prisoner brings his shackled hands to his mouth and motions to  his lips frantically.

Both the metallic muzzle and blind fold were still in place on the prisoner's face.

Haley reaches for the metal mouthpiece and attempts to pull it off the prisoner’s face, but he fills a sharp resistance and the prisoner groans in pain.

“I’m sorry,” Haley says. “I don’t know how to take it off... I’ll go get help.”

Leaving the trays he runs back up the stairs to where Corp. Maddox stood watch outside.

“How do I take… that thing off his mouth ?,” Haley asks the Corporal.

“It’s called a gag,” Crop. Maddox says. “They only get it off for half hour.”

"I understand, sir."

The corporal reaches into his belt and throws a small square key in  his direction. It lands at Haley’s feet , he picks it up and quickly runs back down to the confinement cell.

Haley stands at the bars unsure of how to open the gag. The prisoner gestures to his cheeks.  Haley presses the key over the sides of the prisoner's cheekbones. He  hears a soft hiss and the the gag clanks to the floor. The gag is shaped like a mouth guard, with magentically locked sides that created a seal around the mouth. The prisoner’s lips underneath were chafed from the metal rubbing against them.

Despite his mouth being free the prisoner doesn’t speak. He just reaches  through the wide bars of the cell and feels around for the plate--completely missing it.

“Wait,” Haley says. He kneels down and puts a hand on the prisoner’s cheek to still him. He takes the key and  presses it to the edges of the eyeblind. The key makes a dull beep at the contact, but the eyeblind doesn’t unlock.

“It’s either one of the other,” the prisoner says in a steady voice. "Never both come off."

The prisoner had  found the plate and brings a half-eaten orange slice to his mouth. He sucks on it and while some juice gets in his mouth most of it slides down his neck. He feels for the plate again and this time picks up a bagel spotted with mold on the underside.

He smells it before putting it to his mouth.

“Wait, there’s mold…,” Haley says quietly. He takes the bagel and breaks off the unmolded parts before handing it back into the prisoner’s hand.

The prisoners hand stays aloft, holding the bread unmoving. Haley inspects the rest of the plate for rotted or moldy food and seeing none stands to leave.

“You’re not a soldier,” the prisoner says.

“No,sir,” Haley says. The sir had slipped out of habit. This prisoner seemed authoritative, like maybe he was an officer in the Eastern Guard.

“Are you the blonde ?,” the prisoner asks

Haley considers if he should answer. He wasn’t supposed to be talking to the POWs, but the questions seemed harmless.

“Yes.”

The prisoner bites his lip.

“I assumed you were a girl,” the prisoner said. “Most camps don’t draft callboys--”

“No. I’m not a—I’m--,” Haley stutters For a moment he didn’t know what he was. Was he an inmate ? Did he work for the RLA ? “I’m…just a civilian.”

“You’re kind,” the prisoner says.

“No, I’m not,” Haley says.

“I saw your saltire," the prisoner says.  "I thought that New Revolution cult doesn’t believe in war or violence. Killing is a mortal sin, right ?”

“Yes.” Haley says. “But you’re from the East—you don’t believe in sin or any of that.”

“True,” he says. “But I don’t need to. I just need you to.”

“Why--”

“I need your help. Can you give a message to Jon ?,” the prisoner says. “Just tell him Merrick said not to fight. Tell him I said you all won’t kill us.”

The prisoner speaks concisely and quick with an unassuming authority. He couldn’t be that much older than Haley, but he could still be a corporal or lieutenant if he was well educated.

“ I'm not allowed to deliver a message,” Haley tells him. “I’m sorry.”

“Please.” The prisoner, Merrick says. “Jon and I have been through a lot since we went down. I’m afraid Jon won’t hold up much longer and may lash out. He’s not taking any of this captivity well.”

Maxwell had made it very plain that they weren’t to help or communicate with the POWs.

But none of this felt right to Haley.These prisoners seemed like men to him and they were being treated like animals. Maxwell had told him that the POWs weren’t accused of anything malicious. They’d just flown into the wrong airspace. Maxwell had told him these men were just humans, but if that was the case than why were they  treating them so inhumanely ? The message seemed harmless.

“I’ll try,” Haley says. “Which one is Jon?” 

Merrick paused.

“You call him II,” Merrick says with clinched teeth. “Can you tell me if he in the cell above me ?”

“I’m not allowed to tell you,” Haley says “I’m sorry.”

They corporals had been rotating the POWs daily; two  slept in solitary confinement cells and one slept in the prisoner barracks, chained to a bed.

“Tell your master the Republic inmates are beating the shit out of us when we’re in their barrack,” Merrick tells him.

“Master ?”

“The commanding officer--”

“I told you I’m not….a..I'm not that I--,”

“I’m not judging you, kid. We’ve been bumped around to plenty of camps like this in the RLA. I know what happens. I don’t judge.” Merrick says. 

Haley didn’t like what the prisoner was saying. Merrick was still shackled to his cell, Haley could open the cell and force the gag back into the man’s mouth and force  him to shut up.

“The Republic inmates  did this to my face. They beat me unconscious last night.” Merrick continues, referring to the cuts and dark bruises across his cheek. “Remind the commanding officer that if a POW  is murdered here the EUS will, by code, retaliate with full force.”

A jaded part of Haley wanted to laugh at that. If there was one thing Maxwell could do it was cover up a murder.

“I’ll try to tell Sgt. Maxwell,” Haley said and picked up the remaining two trays he had to deliver. “What is III’s name ? I feel like I should know since I know yours and II’s.”

“I don’t remember,” Merrick said. “He was  a pilot from a different platoon. We’d just met him the day we were captured. His flying got us into this fucking mess.”

 

 

***

-3-

Stripped down to his underwear, Haley straddled Maxwell’s unconscious body on the bed and absently massaged the magazine from Maxwell’s gun between his fingers.

Maxwell’s solid chest rose and fell slowly, his dog tags resting between his swollen pectorals. With his arms stretched and tied over the headboard the ridged muscles in his stomach and chest were pulled taught between Haley’s legs. The developed muscles of his legs were only interrupted by the cybernetic plate that replaced his knee. His body looked to Haley  like an ancient statue.

Haley walked his finger down the lines of Maxwell’s torso and stopped short of the curved indent at the bottom of his waist that disappeared into his underwear. Maxwell was unconscious for the next few seconds and he was bound. Haley could really torture Maxwell if he wanted. Give him a taste of his own medicine

He thought about it often.

But he could never.

Which is exactly what had landed him here. He could never actually hurt anyone.

Maxwell stirred suddenly,  turning  his head. When Haley saw he was coming to, he pulled his hands away from Maxwell’s body and  set the magazine of bullets on the bed—well within  Maxwell’s line of vision.

As Maxwell’s eyes adjusted  Haley pushed the barrel of Maxwell’s own gun into Maxwell’s mouth. When Maxwell had done this to him, pressed a gun to his lips, it had been one of the most traumatic experiences of  Haley’s life—he’d been sure Maxwell was going to kill him.

He’d felt true terror.

Maxwell had turned that moment into a game—reversing their roles for his own pleasure. Before Haley could force the gun down farther, Maxwell reached his bound hands to Haley’s waist and grabbed at him roughly.

That was Maxwell’s signal that he’d had enough.  After a full day of bossing men around Maxwell had been ready to play at submission. But only for a while.

Without hesitation Haley removes the gun from Maxwell’s mouth.

“Untie me,” Maxwell orders. “Quickly my syndicate is going off,”

Haley quickly works at the restraints. At first he’d wondered why Maxwell had the silk gray ties that didn’t fit him. Now he knew why. They were just long enough to tie a man up by his wrist and ankles. They were just soft enough that when wrapped around someone’s neck they didn’t leave a  mark.

When Haley frees one of Maxwell’s wrist, Maxwell sits up and hurriedly removes the others.  He reaches over to pick up his Syndicate. Haley makes to move, but Maxwell presses his fingers to the small of his back as a nonverbal signal to stay where he was—his knees now straddling Maxwell’s waist.  

 

Maxwell stares up into his Syndicate blankly before pulling it off.

Haley glanced at the clock-- it was near midnight.

“Who was it, sir ?,” Haley asks

“I missed the call.” Maxwell frowns.  “I didn’t recognize the number…if it’s important they’ll leave a message.”

Maxwell tilts his head up slightly and pulls Haley into a rough kiss. Maxwell pulls him closer until Haley can feel the coolness of Maxwell’s dog tags pressing against his own chest.

“Get me a condom,” Maxwell says pulling away from the kiss.

Haley closes his eyes.

“May I ask a question, sir ?”

A tremor went through Maxwell’s body.

“What ?,” he said.

“….Am I a callboy ?,”Haley asked. “Is that why I’m…here ? To, um...”

Maxwell frowned, moving his hand though Haley’s hair.

“Do you see a  fucking whorehouse here ?,” Maxwell said with an amused grin.

“…No, sir.” 

“The RLA did ask me if I wanted a comfort tent when the camp was built and I said no because I don’t have time for the diseases and shit that come with them. Why would you ask me that ?”

“I don’t know…One of the POWs ….just assumed I was a--”

Haley's sentence is caught off  by the sharp sting of Maxwell’s open palm against his cheek. The impact made his eyes damp.

“You are never to communicate with the POWs, Haley,” Maxwell barks quietly. “You fucking know that.”

“I wasn’t,sir. He just started talking--”

“Then you gag him,” Maxwell said. “Those men only want to escape and go home and they  will manipulate and use anyone to get there. They think you are easy mark. Don’t ever communicate with them again. You put the entire camp at risk.  Do you understand ?,”

“Yes, sir,” Haley says in unsteady breaths, suddenly feeling stupid for letting that slip. 

He considers telling Maxwell about the message he had delivered, but he was suddenly to afraid to admit the mistake.

Maxwell’s fingers circle Haley’s waist before pulling down the band of his underwear. Haley becomes  still and after few moment their hurried breaths began to synchronize in the silence.

“You’re here because you did a bad thing, but you're too good to be thrown in with those inmates,” Maxwell breaks the silence.

“I’m not good....you ruined me,” Haley says, his face flushing as his body heated and at the honesty.

“Good and naive aren’t the same thing.” Maxwell says. Maxwell sits up taller bringing their bodies closer together. His hands pushing Haley’s hip down into his lap. “Tell me you never want to be fucked by me again and I’ll leave you alone. Tell me.”

“Sir--,”

“I know you hate me. I hurt you. I humiliate you. I use you. I do it because it gets me off. With very little effort you could send me to jail for the rest of my life. But you won’t. Because you like it,” Maxwell says. 

Maxwell brings his head up to Haley’s in a  kiss that is all teeth and with every bite his writhing body moves against Maxwell's.  Maxwell lets his lips rest by Haley’s ear.

“Come for me,” Maxwell whispers.

He does so  quietly and still that Maxwell doesn’t even notice at first.

“Here is what I know about you, Haley. You may seem innocent, but you're  just as fucked up as the rest of us.,” Maxwell tells him. “And you’re not some whore or callboy. Do  you know why ?”

Haley pauses.

“No.”

“Because you belong to me.”

 

+++

 Maxwell is awoken two hours later by the soft pinging of the Syndicate in his ear. Once again, he doesn’t recognize the number and he wonders if his parents or sister had gotten new numbers and he hadn’t realized.

But his syndicate was supposed to be on  a confidential line. He hadn’t given the number to anyone.

Quietly, Maxwell pulled on fatigues and boots, leaving the shirt unbuttoned. He looked behind him to see Haley on the far side of  the bed. He was asleep on his back, his lips slightly parted, his hand in his underwear and breathing as silent as ever. Maxwell stared longer than he should have.

He had to stop doing this.

Quickly walking outside of the barracks Maxwell answers the pinging message.

“Who is this ?,” he demands.

He hears static conversation in the background, but no response.

“This is a confidential line of the Republic Liberation Army--,” Maxwell continues.

“Mr. Maxwell ?,” A shaky voice asks, followed by a shallow breath

“Who is this ?,”

“It’s Isla Haley,” she said, she sounded like she was dying.

“Are you alright ?,” Maxwell asks. “How did you get this number ?”

“I just downloaded a hack to trace my received calls…It was actually pretty easy.” she said with a laugh. “Um, listen I need you to tell Alex something. Some real bad shit just went down.”

“What happened?,”

“I---well…,” she pauses and does an exaggerated laugh. “Some asshole set my house on fire--”

“Shit--”

“I wasn’t there thank god--,” 

“Do you have a place to stay--”

“I’m going to our  Grandmother’s. I’m there now, we had some clothes there so--”

Her voice cracks and she breathes in.

Those limpdicked bastards did it. Maxwell thinks. They’d actually done something.

Haley would never let him live this down. Maxwell had let Felix and Marco go and they’d grown the balls to burn a woman’s house to the ground.

“I may know who did this,” Maxwell said.

“What—who ?,” she asked.

“I don’t want to say anything until I am sure. I can pull some strings with the Justice Department to make sure this gets investigated and the arsons are punished to the fullest extent of the law.”

“That’s great and all… but it won’t bring my house back,” Isla retorts. “No offense.”

“It is late here.” Maxwell said. “ I will talk to Haley and have him call you in the morning,”

“Um, okay,” Isla said. “Yeah, whatever. Thanks.”

“And while I’m sorry for your loss, please don’t ever call this line again.”

 ------

A/N

You guys, I swear I had the name Merrick before the president nominated that judge to the supreme court.