From The Ashes | The 100 S5 [Bellarke]

|14| Operation Treason

3 days on the ground

Icarus was buzzing with synthetic energy.

He hadn't slept since last night, and while he was no stranger to 24-hour days, he didn't have treason to plan and carry out. The adrenaline from that was probably enough to keep him awake and aware, but he couldn't risk the chance of drowsiness. And so, he'd dug out two of his precious caffeine patches and slapped them onto his upper left arm, hiding the gray squares under the sleeve of his jumpsuit.

Madi was on her way to get what she called a rover, but what Icarus realized from her explanation of the device was a vehicle, and would be back by dawn for the second half of their patchwork plan. Which left him just a few hours to think up as harmless a diversion as he could, contact the prisoners, free them, and then get them outside the wall without being caught.

"Stay cool, stay cool," he muttered to himself under his breath as he crouched in the confined space of the maintenance duct across the hall from Clarke's cell. His father and Doc were still in there, and thankfully Clarke's screams had stopped, but he wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. "You got this."

Hopefully.

Soon, the door opened and the captain and Doc stood in the hall. A silver case was held loosely in Doc's hand, and she looked tired, but none of them had any blood on their clothes or skin.

Oh. Shit.

Icarus bit his tongue against the instinct to vocalize his curse as he realized why the screams had been so terrible. They'd used the punishment drugs on her, a clear liquid that brought unimaginable pain, forcing one's nerves into override. It was what their colony used for lesser crimes instead of the death sentence, and one injection was usually enough to put someone back on the straight and narrow.

"Why are you doing this?" Icarus breathed, his gaze narrowing as he stared at the emotionless features of his father.

Any doubts he'd had about his reckless decision to free their prisoners was instantly erased in that moment. These people had done nothing wrong, and if they were aggressive in the future, Icarus wouldn't blame them. His people had done nothing but wrong to them, even though he hoped that by freeing them before any further harm was done, potential war could be avoided.

So, in a way, he wasn't betraying his people. He was saving them.

"Maybe we should have started with the others first," Doc said, her voice breaking past Icarus' internal debate.

"Any information they have is six years old, which isn't very useful," the captain replied. "No, your plan is a good one. This will give her time to think about the choices we've given her, and the rest from pain will make the possible return of it hopefully more effective than it has been."

"All right." Doc blinked slowly, clearly lacking a caffeine patch for awareness. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Sleep well, Doc."

And then they were gone.

Icarus waited a minute longer to make sure the hall was clear, and then he clambered out of the duct, replacing the vent afterwards. There was a camera in the corner, but he'd disabled the power to it from the duct before he'd climbed down to floor level.

When he came to the cell door, he heard sharp, ragged inhalations from the other side. Somehow, those quiet sounds seemed even worse than her screams had.

"Shit," Icarus muttered, mentally throwing even worse curses his father's way as he jimmied open the electrical panel for the locking system. After reassembling a few wires, the door slid open onto the dim room.