Michael looked at the people around him. Waiting as he was with questions. Whether or not they would be answered in that room they were waiting to go in. None of them made eye contact. They all looked at the floor, the cold floor. Michael remembered the name he had read on one of the monitors. He looked at the other people and wondered if they were John Abruzzi. He thought about asking, he wanted to eliminate the uncomfortable air that hung around them. The door clicked open and he met eyes with a tall slim man, his eyes like stone, his hair was shorter at the sides than the top. He was in his late forties or early fifties, Michael would guess and he had a beard that was flecked with grey. He looked right at him, the only one of the so called subjects to have done so, right into his eyes. The man smiled a little but it wasn’t friendly.
“Alexander Mahone,” the person dressed in doctors clothing said and the man with the ice eyes stood and walked. Michael looked at the other man and realised he must be John Abruzzi. Who was the woman? He waited consumed in his questions.
Her name was Gretchen Morgan, or so that machine had told her, she was also called Susan B Anthony. Why did she have two names? She pulled the blanket around her, she was exposed to the other two men and she didn’t like it. She looked into her lap and saw the scars on her thighs. What were they? How did that happen? She was shaking as she sat here. Shaking from the cold, the fear, the questions. She had ugly scars on her legs and she did not know why. She looked over at the other two men, cautiously. They both made her feel very uncomfortable. The older of the two seemed harsh in his presence and he had a smile on his face, she didn’t like it. It was knowing. What did he know? The other was watching her, watching her with his huge and beautiful eyes. She looked away quickly. She was still shaking. The door opened and the man named Alexander Mahone re emerged. Good, it was her turn. The name Susan B Anthony was used to call her. She stood and, holding the pathetic blanket to cover her, she entered the room. She looked at them all wearily. She was led to a woman and taken behind a screen. The woman handed her some clothes, she took them, watching the stranger as she did. She slipped them on, she had trouble, it had been so long since her hands had been in use. The clothes were black, she thought it strange but she had not noticed the men come out in clothes although they must have done. She gladly felt secure inside the material. It was sort of leathery but made of something else other than animal skin. It was tight but comfortable at the same time. She was led away from the screen and placed in a chair. It was similar to when she was in that room with the man and his shadowed face. However the person sitting before her now was in clear view.
The woman named Susan B Anthony came back out of the room and Michael’s name was called. He stood and walked passed the woman who had seemed scared before but now she was a bit calmer. Michael looked at her but her piercing gaze didn’t meet his and he was led into the room. It was bright and he was taken to a man who handed him some clothes. He took them and dressed himself. They were black clothes and felt strange against his skin. He was led to a seat and he sat opposite a smiling face.
“Welcome, Michael,” he said warmly, “this is your initiation, this is where you find the answers to your questions, I’m sure you have many,”
“Who was I in 2006?” he asked.
“You were working for us, The Company, we are called, you were among our many soldiers,”
“Why was I frozen?”
“You were one of our best soldiers, however, we had no need for you then so we froze you to bring you back when we are in need of our best soldiers,” the way the man spoke was almost robotic. It was like he was a machine and had just been programmed to answer any and all question asked.
“Why do I have pictures on my body?”
“In the year 2006 you were sent on a mission, a very important mission, to infiltrate our enemies and rescue one of our other soldiers, you had the blueprints of their base inked onto your skin, your mission succeeded.”
“Tell me, if you had no need for me in the year 2006, why did you send me on a mission?”
“The mission succeeded, we had no need for you after,”
“Is Michael Scofield my real name?”
“Of course,” Michael observed this man in front of him. He did not blink. He sat with his hands entwined on the table, he did not seem to move or to breath or anything.
“What is my purpose now?”
“To fight, to fight for The Company,” the man answered immediately.
“What is The Company?”
“The Company is your home, your family and you must fight for The Company, you must protect The Company, you must do anything for The Company, to fight for and protect The Company.” the words had been said. That was his purpose. That was his job. He was a soldier, it all made sense now. He had been thinking about fighting and protecting and rescuing. Those thoughts had been recurrent in his head and that would explain why. He had been having feelings from his life in 2006 brought back. Resurfacing after so long. He knew who he was. He was Michael Scofield and he worked for The Company, he was a soldier for The Company.