“I’m not worried about myself. Zeke is going to be well and get his life back. He’s very excited. You should be too. He’ll be released once his contract ends, and you can discuss it then. In the meantime, I won’t dismiss protocol, facility security, or the law for your pet project.”
“How long until his contract ends?” I asked.
“Three years,” Peter said.
I yanked away from Trex and the guard. “Are you insane? How did you even get him back there? He has zero clearance.”
“I’m capable of doing a lot more than you give me credit for,” he said, tightening his tie.
“You crossed a line, Peter. I will never forgive you for this.”
He smiled. “Yes you will. You always do.”
“Not this time.” I went after him again, struggling against Trex. “You’re dead. You are fucking dead to me!” I spat on his desk.
Peter’s smile faded as Trex and Kitsch pulled me away. They guided me back to the locker room where I leaned against the lockers and slid to the floor, holding my hair from my eyes with my hands.
Kitsch took off his cap and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “That’s not legal, is it?”
“Don’t say anything else,” Trex said, looking up.
I folded my arms on my knees and bowed my head, feeling helpless.
chapter thirty-seven
in the deep
Zeke
I
took a deep breath, Dr. Patel’s cold stethoscope feeling like it was burning a hole through my skin.
“Sorry,” he said, realizing too late and rubbing the metal against his coat. He tried again, writing down his findings.
“How are you feeling?”
“Weak.”
He nodded. “That’s normal. We could lower the intensity of the treatments; however, it could double the time.”
“No.”
He nodded. “How’s the pain?”
“A five most of the time. Sometimes a six.”
He nodded again, writing down my answers. “Any relief?”
“No.”
“Are you taking the medication?”
“Everything but the pain pills.”
He wrote more, then signed his name. “Chest X-Ray in two hours. You’ve got training before then?”
I nodded. “That’s all you’ll let me do. I need to start as soon as I can, so my contract can begin.”
“I understand.” He put his stethoscope away. “We’ll get you there.”
“When?” I asked.
“Can’t be certain, but you’re progressing along nicely. Better than previous patients. On average their treatments took nine weeks. At this rate, you’ll be shaving at least two weeks off of that. Maybe more. Your last treatment could be the next one.”
I nodded. “Good.”
Dr. Patel stood, shook my hand, and let the door shut behind him. It was the first time I’d seen a doctor who did house calls, or, in my case, cell calls. My room wasn’t awful. It was twice as big as my hotel room, and I was next door to Dean, the former security head. He’d been given a job deeper in the facility, and although he wasn’t allowed to speak about it, he was happy to talk about anything else.
After a short knock the door opened, and Dean walked in wearing a gray T-shirt and flannel pajama pants. “Damn. That one took it out of you, huh?”
“Try getting shunts and shit fed through all your veins and valves and electrodes shocking the shit out of you, making you feel like you’re having a heart attack every day? Yeah, it tends to leave me feeling a little off. And that’s not including the blood work, the biopsies, the—”
“Okay, okay, I get it. You’re going to make me throw up.” He sighed, sitting in corner chair. “I’m so sorry, Zeke. I know it’s tough. You look like hell.”
“Thanks,” I said, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. “It’s going to be a long three years.”
Dean got quiet.
I turned to face him. “What?”
“Is that what they told you? Three years?”
“Yeah, why?”
“It’s just that … most people down here don’t leave, not without an outside mission or task anyway. The security team turns over, but we’re moved to other areas unless they think they can’t trust you.”
“Where do those people go?”
Dean shrugged. “Nowhere good.”
“I’m getting out of here. I’m a civilian for fuck’s sake.”
“So are the docs. They don’t go anywhere either.”
“How did you get stuck down here?”
Dean grinned. “I volunteered like everyone else, having no fucking clue what I was signing up for.” He thought about that for a moment, then snapped out of it. “How are you feeling?”
“Like shit, but whatever they’re doing is working. I get stronger every day.”
A loud bang sounded down the hall, and something cried out.
Dean laughed at my reaction.
“What the fuck was that?” I asked.
“Probably something getting treatments like you and complaining just like you.”
“Something?”
Dean’s expression changed like it always did when we got too close to a conversation about Deep Echo. “I’d better go. You should get some sleep.”
“I can barely keep my eyes open, but my brain’s not tired.”
“I keep forgetting to tell you. I saw your girlfriend this morning.”
“You saw Naomi? In here?”
“No, dumbass, she can’t come back here. I’ve told you that. Everyone has told you that. I saw her through the corridor entry glass. She was patrolling.”
“Damn it. How do I keep missing her?”
“You’ll see her again eventually. She’s upped her stops here to four times a day instead of once.”
“How did she look?”
“She’s a fine piece of ass.” I didn’t respond, and Dean began to laugh. “I’m kidding, my dude. She looked good! She takes no shit off our security team, that’s for sure.”
“If her team is so specialized, why does she just walk the halls all day?”
He shrugged. “I’ve asked myself that several times. The rumor is that Bennett brought her here. They were married or something when they were young and split up because he didn’t like her getting deployed. He created the team, added her and her crew so he could keep her out of the field.”
“Sounds like a rumor to me,” I said.
“Yeah, but around here the rumors usually turn out to be mostly true. You just have to figure out which part. Her team has to be bad asses, though. They’re the last line of defense before anyone or anything gets to Deep Echo.”
“Is there treasure down here or something?” I teased.
“You don’t want to know what’s down here,” Dean said, his smile gone.
I stood.
“Where are you going?” Dean asked.
“To look for treasure.”
He grabbed my arm, shaking his head. “Zeke, you don’t want to do that. Besides, most of it is blocked off by checkpoints.”
“Then I’ll go as far as I can. I haven’t even been past the offices.”
“There’s a reason for that. Just … let it go.”
I lay back, lacing my fingers behind my head. My chest ached, my back, too, and my head was throbbing. “I need to see Naomi. If you see her again, find me. That’s what’s most important.”
“Will do. But, Zeke? If they find out you know more than you should, you might not ever get out. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
I rolled my eyes. “We’re not prisoners.”
“Try to leave. See how that works out for you.”
“We’re contracted in a high security facility. There’re protocols. Stop being so paranoid.”
Dean stood. “I guess it’s easier to believe that. Get some rest.”
“Thanks,” I said, s
taring at the ceiling.
When the door closed, I sat up, waiting for Dean to get back into his room and the stars to clear from my eyes. A sharp pain stabbed through my chest, and I pressed my fist against it, rubbing in circles until the sensation leveled off. The stars came back, and again I waited.
Once the dizziness went away, I stood, shuffling to the door in bare feet. The hallway seemed longer than usual, but I set out anyway, hoping to either see Naomi or prove Dean wrong.
I passed the quarters, then offices, the kitchen, the commons, and arriving at the blast doors.
I looked up, squinting even though it wasn’t that bright. The meds Dr. Patel had given me made my eyes more sensitive to light. “Gibbs,” I called.
He looked down at me from the platform the entrance security team manned.
“Didn’t you get banned from the blast doors, Lund?”
“What is the protocol for passing through those doors?” I asked.
Gibbs breathed out a laugh. “What are you talking about?”
“If I wanted to get some fresh air for a day.”
“No one walks through those doors,” Gibbs said, amused. “Not during a contract. Not unless you’re brass.”
“So I can’t leave? I’m a civilian. That’s false imprisonment.”
Gibbs laughed, and so did the rest of his squad. “Yeah, I guess it is. You’ll find the rules in here are very different. That’s why you’re able to get the treatments you’re getting.”
“Is that why I keep hearing screaming deeper down the corridor?” I asked.
Gibbs’ smirk vanished. “What screaming?”
“It sounded like an animal. Are they doing experiments down there?”
“You didn’t hear anything, Lund. Trust me.”
“Nazi Germany,” I said, nodding and looking away from Gibbs as I tried to nonchalantly take in all the info I could on the blast doors. If there was a way out, the entrance wasn’t it. “I willingly agreed to forgo my rights and live in Nazi Germany. That’s great. Just great,” I said, walking back toward my room.
I sat on my bed and leaned back against the wall, emotionally and physically exhausted. Peter knew I’d never get out of here. He dangled my health in front of me, knowing I couldn’t turn it down. All he had to do was get me past the blast doors.
I cupped my hands over my nose and mouth. Would I ever see her again? Would I ever see my family again? See the sky again? Breathe fresh air?
Jesus. What have I done?
chapter thirty-eight
savage
Naomi
T
he apartment was clear of bugs of cameras after four sweeps with Kitsch. At least Peter wasn’t a total scumbag. While Kitsch swept my bedroom and bathroom a fifth time, I unrolled the Complex blueprints that covered almost my entire table, setting candles on all four corners to keep it flat.
Trex knocked twice then came in. “Sorry I’m late. Darby couldn’t get away, so I brought Maddie to her.”
“No problem,” I said, touching my lips while I stared at the schematics.
“What the hell is this?” Trex asked.
“I was going to ask the same thing,” Kitsch said, coming from the hall.
“The Complex,” I said.
“It’s complete and dated four months ago. How did you get it?”
“Peter’s house.”
“Isn’t his place gated and heavily secured?”
I shrugged. “Wasn’t that hard.”
Trex put his hands on top of his head, lacing his fingers. “Naomi, you’re going to get yourself imprisoned for a very long time. Possibly for life. I have a family. I can’t be involved in this.”
I looked at him. “You’re right. You should go.” I looked at Kitsch. “You go too.”
“I’m staying,” Kitsch said.
Trex sighed. He was conflicted, and I could see it was killing him.
“Go, Trex. Now,” I said.
He sighed, walking backward until he reached the door. He turned and twisted the knob, letting in a gust of cool night air. “There might be another way,” he said.
“There’s not,” I said. “Don’t say anything to anyone else. Especially Harbinger.”
Trex looked at me over his shoulder, nodded, then closed the door behind him.
“What do you need from me?” Kitsch said.
I rested my hands palms-down on the table, looking down. “We need a plan, then a plan B and plan C. I don’t see anywhere in or out of Deep Echo except the blast doors.”
“What about that?” Kitsch said, pointing to a ventilation system.
I crossed my arms, bending over. “Is it large enough for me, much less Zeke?”
“It’s a crawl space. Can his heart handle a mile-long army crawl?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what kind of treatment he’s been undergoing. I saw him last Tuesday. Looks like he’s not allowed near the blast doors anymore. He looks miserable but healthy.”
“So what are our obstacles?” Kitsch asked.
“We don’t know Zeke’s schedule or his ability to escape. Even if I make it into Deep Echo, if he’s not right there I’ll have to wait, increasing the risk of detection.”
“So we need his schedule and his health status. How do we get that?”
I shook my head. “We don’t need his schedule. We just need to find where he sleeps.”
“Abscond with him in the middle of the night? Not many distractions at night.”
“But the typical person is tired, slow, and unsuspecting.”
Kitsch nodded. “All right then. This is a night mission.”
We followed the air ducts and ventilation, mapping out my escape, locating the Deep Echo Fire team’s headquarters, but the sleeping quarters weren’t specified.
“You’re going to have to be patient, Naomi. It’s a disadvantage that Peter knows you so well.”
“How patient?”
“They’ll be watching you. Give it a few weeks.”
“I’m not known for being patient.”
“Too much at stake not to be. We need the right night, and if it’s too soon after one of Zeke’s procedures, you’ll have to drag him out, and he might not survive it.”
“Dr. Cohen would know.”
“How are you going to get that info without him alerting Bennett?”
“Because scientists want the world to know about their discoveries and successes. They are in the business of change and discovery, and you can’t do that keeping it all to yourself. It’s in their nature. Leave it to me.”
Kitsch nodded. “Too risky. We’ll have to find another way.”
I stood upright, perching my hands on my hips, frustrated. “Copy that.”
***
After giving Peter the silent treatment for two and a half weeks, he called me into his office. I sat in the chair across from his huge mahogany desk, glaring at him. “Is he really necessary?”
Peter looked up at the enormous armed guard next to him. “You’ve tried to attack me and have threatened me multiple times, so yes.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t recall you being such a pussy when we were kids; otherwise, I wouldn’t have been so interested in you.”
Peter leaned forward, his elbows on the desk. “You need to make a choice. Either you accept things how they are, or you’ll have to move on.”
“What are you talking about?” I snarled.
“I can’t keep you here behaving so hostile. My authority is beginning to be questioned. The general brought it to my attention, and I simply can’t afford not to have his respect.”
“Hostile? I haven’t spoken to you.”
“It’s a hostile work environment, Naomi. The general has noticed. Either stop pouting and being subtly defiant or pack up.”
“By pouting and defiance, you mean I’m no longer treating you like a friend, and I’m not allowing you in my home?”
“Th
at’s not what I said.”
“Are you threatening to fire me and my team?”
“Yes. And you’ll all be sequestered.”
“Sequestered? For what?”
“This is a top-secret facility, and you’re disgruntled employees. The risk is too high to terminate your employment and turn you out into the general public.”
“You’ve lost your mind, Peter. You’re really going to go through all that trouble, ruin lives, because I’m not in love with you? Where is your pride? Where is your integrity?”
“It goes far beyond that, Naomi.”
“No, it doesn’t. You’re a spoiled child. The one thing you’ve always wanted is the one thing you can’t have. You’ve broken numerous laws to get me, including interfering with my military career, my deployments, and now false imprisonment; bending rules of a government facility to keep your childhood crush close, and experimenting on a human being via coercion—not sure what the official term for that one is, but I’m certain it’s illegal.”
Peter glanced up at his bodyguard, who was stone-faced. “You’re distorting the facts.”
“Those are exactly the facts.”
“Did you not hear what I said?” Peter asked.
“Yes, play nice and pretend what you’ve done to Zeke is not evil and you won’t put me under house arrest. Is that about right?”
“Slightly biased account, but yes.”
“Just tell me, Peter. Tell me what you said to Zeke to get him to agree to this.”
“I didn’t have to convince him, if that’s what you’re asking. He was out of a job as a hotshot, he’s sick, he felt unworthy of you for both of those reasons. I gave him a job he loves and treatment he needs to be the man he wants to be for the woman he loves.”
“As if you care,” I grumbled.
“You’re right, I don’t. It was convenient for certain, but you’ve forgiven me for worse. Paige, for instance.”
“You marrying Paige is not even close to tricking my boyfriend into a three-year contract underground to keep him away from me.”
“Well, that’s one perspective.”
“Did you tell him he couldn’t leave once that blast door closed? Tell me the truth—if you even remember how.”
The Edge of Us (Crash and Burn Book 2) Page 29
