The smile she gave him was reward enough for the effort it would take to create a laboratory in the middle of the jungle.
***
It had been two months since the Warrior promised her a lab, and now he led her to the clearing in the jungle. Before her stood a small prefab concrete building and a generator shed attached to its side. Inside she found a laboratory, filled with some of the most advanced scientific equipment in existence.
“But how did you do this? Some of this equipment is custom made and cost a fortune.”
“There are men who will do or pay anything for a serum to cure their cancer or strengthen their heart.”
“You sold them your blood.” She stared at him in amazement.
The Warrior smiled. “Only a capsule. It will give them one or two additional years, and then they must return for more. I have been doing this for a very long time. However, I think this was a challenge for my business partner. Some of these pieces are very rare.”
“Can I start working on this now?” She picked up a stack of operational documents for the equipment.
“Do you wish me to leave, so you may concentrate?”
Carmella looked at the giant warrior. Two months ago, he would not have asked her that. What she wanted had been irrelevant. Now, he was often considerate of her wants and needs. He would bring her exotic flowers and place them in clay pots acquired from the nearby villages, solely because she liked them. He would climb dangerous cliffs with her on his back, just so she could witness a spectacular view.
She had sought him out to solve her intellectual curiosity. She had offered herself freely to him to prolong her life and provide her time to study him. Yet even as she willingly gave her body to him, she never considered the possibility that some day she would love him.
She smiled at her fierce warrior, knowing to leave her even for a few hours would be hard for him. His attraction to her was so constant and strong that she wondered if he was as addicted to their lovemaking as she was reliant upon his blood for her survival.
“A few hours and I will have read the manuals. Then you can help me put the equipment together.”
She could see the strength it took for him to tear himself away from her. We need each other, she thought and felt comfort that the need was not hers alone. She touched her stomach, already beginning to swell slightly with the cub. She needed his blood, and he needed her company.
***
The moment she closed the last operational manual, the Warrior reappeared through the door. His large hands rubbed the stiffness from her neck. “You need to relax before we start.” He gently tugged at the clothes he had acquired for her a month ago when he realized that she still did not like being naked. He had been reluctant to do this, but her happiness upon sight of the khaki pants and long sleeve cotton blouse made him glad he had done so. Besides, he discovered he enjoyed removing the garments to expose her lovely body.
She helped him uncloak his member and smiled as he lifted her onto it. As he drove deep within her, he could sense the stirring of his cub. Already he could tell it was alert and its intelligence was growing. This cub would be far superior to his other offspring.
Such thinking should have filled him with pleasure, but it did not—could not. The longer, the cub grew within her womb, the shorter time remained for his beloved. He had mated over a hundred women and watched them all die during the birthing process. He knew it was a horrible death, worse than anything he could devise for his worst enemy. The thought of his beloved dying in such a manner tore at his heart and built an angry fire within him. Yet, there was nothing he could do to save her—nothing at all.
After their mating, he released her with reluctance and watched as she put on her clothing and returned to the equipment. Her excitement was contagious, and he pushed aside his dark thoughts of the future and assisted her most willingly.
He watched as she placed the first tube in the machine and attempted to execute her test.
“Are you a doctor such as Taylor?”
“No. I normally do research.”
“A research scientist?” he clarified.
“No. I’ve only read about this type of testing. There! It’s able to measure the activity within!” She sat down in front of the computer and typed.
The Warrior moved behind her and watched the screen before her.
“I do not recognize this language.”
“It’s called mathematics. Amazingly, it seems to be a common language of science. While on Earth over two hundred languages and dialects are spoken for social communication, there is only one language for mathematics and it appears that this holds true for your race as well. This is a binary system, similar to our computer. If I can reassemble these tubes in their correct structure, I might be able to activate the memory banks and discover your purpose.”
The Warrior held his breath. “How long will that take?”
“I can’t say. A month…a year. It depends how lucky I am.”
He laid his hand on her curly short hair. “Let us hope then for a month.”
Carmella felt her skin chill. Although she had been trying not to think about it, she knew what was concerning the Warrior. She didn’t have a year. In seven months, if it waited that long, the cub would rip open her stomach and leave the womb.
That night as she lay in the Warriors arms, she found her mind turning with thoughts.
“Do you not sleep, my little one?” the Warrior asked.
“I was wondering why I am able to work.”
“I don’t follow you.”
“The research I’ve done indicated that the pheromone levels you exude should incapacitate mental acuity. Yet, I did some of my best work today.”
He stroked her like a kitten. “Yes, well your research was done on human women carrying cubs, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Yes.”
“I can control the level of pheromones I exude. And since I have always enjoyed your mental acuity, I have never used my scent glands at all. That is why I once said you were the first woman to come to me on her own accord.”
She sat up in shock. “But my response was…well let’s just say, I’m not usually that forward.”
He smiled and pulled her tight against him, pleased by her admission.
Chapter 27
Kyle, sat at the bar, slowly nursing his drink. He had received a courier letter today ordering him to return to the States. He knew Winston had used the courier as a last resort. Kyle had stopped calling in almost a month before, when he sensed that Winston was about to recall him. He didn’t care what Winston wanted. He couldn’t leave—not with Carmella still out there.
Following Carmella into the jungle turned out to be harder than he anticipated. It took a week to determine no amount of money or coercion would get him a tracker willing to go after the Warrior. How the hell Carmella had done so in a day, he still couldn’t figure out.
It was still early in the morning, but the heat had grown oppressive. He downed the last drop in his glass and was about to order another when a hand reached out and pushed aside the glass.
“A cup of coffee for my friend here,” the man said. “He’ll be wanting his wits about him, if he has any left.”
Kyle narrowed his eyes until he could focus on Tom Schuler, the tracker that had originally worked for Catina Nelson. He had approached him during those first weeks, trying to find anyone who would take him into the jungle.
“Ah jeez, not another one,” Schuler had bemoaned. “Ain’t there no ladies that just stay at home and bake cookies anymore? Why do they have to be traipsing out through a jungle anyway?”
“Well, she has, and I need to bring her back. Can you take me?” Kyle had asked.
“Where’s she headed?”
“Central portion.”
Schuler froze. “What the hell for?”
“She’s looking for the Warrior.”
Schuler crossed himself. “How long she been gone?”
“Three mo
nths.”
“Who took her?”
“Rumors say the Tangubi tribe, but they deny it.”
Schuler shook his head. “If they took her, there’s a high probability she found what she was looking for. Is she pretty?”
“Why?”
“If she’s pretty, she has a chance of still being alive. Not a great one though. The Warrior’s tribe only has men now. All the women are dead. The Warrior evidently doesn’t practice safe sex.”
“She’s very pretty. How soon can you leave?”
“Hold on. I’ve already risked my life once this year for a crazy American woman. I’m not doing it again.”
Kyle sighed. “How much do you want?”
“Money doesn’t do me much good if I’m dead. Let me talk to the tribes involved without you. If they know I’m looking for the girl, they won’t help. The Warrior pays a high bounty for women. However, I’ve done some trading with the tribes, so I do have friends. I’ll see what I can find out for you.”
“When?” Kyle demanded.
“Within a month or so,” he promised.
“Within a month!” Kyle bellowed. “How about today? In a month, she could be dead.”
Schuler sighed. “I can’t go in there right now, you’ve muddied the waters with your questioning. I gotta let things settle. As for your lady friend, she’s either already dead, or she’s with the Warrior. He don’t kill the women he buys, though it’d probably be better for her if he did.”
“What are you saying?”
“Story goes that he impregnates them, but they all die in labor. So, we’ve got a little time to sort this out.”
Kyle attempted to threaten and bully the tracker into leaving immediately, but Tom Schuler refused to budge.
***
A month later...
Kyle glared at the tracker. “What the hell do you want?”
Tom pushed the coffee closer to him. “Drink your coffee. You’re presently too drunk to remember anything I might want to tell you.”
Kyle took a sip of the bitter coffee and glared at the tracker. “You finally decide to get off your worthless ass?”
Tom snorted with contempt. “I’ve been off my ass for several weeks now, but you’ve been too drunk to notice.” He looked around the bar, relieved to see it was empty. “I think we might have something.”
“The Tanubi tribe?” Kyle asked.
Tom scowled. “They aren’t talking, and they will never help us. But the Warrior is known to do trades with other tribes as well, and recently he had them bring to him some large and heavy materials.”
“So?”
“So, tracking through the jungle with large equipment leaves a pretty big trail.”
Chapter 28
Catina paced the length of her isolation chamber. She understood why they had put her in this chamber, but it did not make the pain of isolation any easier to bear. It tore at her like an unfed addiction. She needed to be with someone, to touch and speak to them. At least in the interrogation room she could see them on the other side of the mirror and hear them talk. She looked at the camera. She assumed they still saw and heard her, but the camera revealed nothing in return.
“If you can hear me, please don’t leave me here. I can’t bear it. The life within me can’t bear it. If you leave me here much longer, I will die. I’m certain of this. I need contact with people. I need Jason. Please tell him. I know he’ll come if you tell him.”
The researcher took a snapshot of her face and compared it to the image taken last week. “She’s not going to last another week if she keeps this up. She hasn’t eaten a thing since we put her down there. She’s tried, but she’s thrown up everything we’ve given her.”
“Who’s the guy she keeps asking for?” the other researcher asked.
“Head of the FBI. She evidently came in with him.”
“I think we should let him know she’s asking for him.”
“We haven’t got clearance to do that.”
“You need clearance to tell the head of the FBI something?”
“I’m not telling nobody nothin’. I just run the booth.”
***
Jason was in a lot of pain, but he had refused anything but Tylenol 4 since he learned Carmella was missing. He wasn’t going to risk being under the influence of drugs when she might need his help. If he relinquished control to his second in command, she was as good as dead.
However, the intense pain made him extremely irritable and he noticed most of the nursing staff now avoided his room. He had been buzzing for an attendant for nearly an hour when the young man came in. He blistered the fellow up one side and down the other for being so late.
“Where’s my breakfast?”
“I don’t know,” the young man stuttered. “Would you like me to call a nurse?”
“No, I don’t want a nurse. I want breakfast. Now turn around, go to the cafeteria and get me a goddamn breakfast!”
Jason watched with satisfaction as the kid turned and left. Ten minutes later, he returned with a plastic wrapped Danish and a coffee.
“What the hell is this?”
“The cafeteria hasn’t opened yet, so I used the vending machines.” The young man bit his bottom lip. “They didn’t have much of a breakfast selection. If you like I could go out and get you something from the diner, but it might take a while, going through clearance and all.”
Jason looked at the young man. He was wearing a lab coat, but Jason felt certain this was not a nursing attendant. “You’re not part of the staff, are you?”
“Not the hospital staff. I’m in research. Harold Capper.”
Jason tore open the Danish and wolfed it down. “Sorry for yelling at you, but I’m not exactly pleased with the care I’m receiving here. I suspect they are trying to modify my behavior with starvation. Anytime I yell at one of them, I notice my next meal is forgotten.”
Harold smiled sheepishly. “That would explain why they all left the station when I went out and told them you were hungry.”
“So, if you’re part of research, why are you here?”
“That woman that brought you in?”
“Catina Nelson?”
“Yeah. She’s in isolation. She hasn’t eaten for a week. We keep trying different foods, and she tries to eat them, but she always throws it up.”
“Have you tried intravenous feeding?”
“Can’t. No one is allowed in the room. That seems to be distressing her more than the hunger. She says we’re killing her. She keeps calling for you.”
“Why haven’t I been told this?” Jason asked, trying to curb the anger rising in his blood.
“I don’t know. We reported it up the channel, but I got this feeling maybe you didn’t know. So, I came over here just in case.”
Jason could see the young man was terrified he had done the wrong thing and needed positive reinforcement. “Harold, you did the right thing. Help me up. You’re going to take me to Catina right now.”
Now Harold looked terrified. “I can take you to the observation booth, but no one is allowed in that room.”
“Harold, do you work for the FBI?”
“Yes, sir,” Harold answered weakly, as if wondering if that situation might be changing very soon.
“And am I the highest authority of the FBI?”
“Yes, sir,” Harold replied with more confidence.
“Then as the Chief of the Bureau, I command you to take me to that isolation chamber.”
“Yes, sir!” Harold replied with happy fervor. “Shall I get you a wheelchair, sir?”
“Please do.”
Jason disconnected all the various wires and tubes from his body and sat up. He and Harold were in the elevator headed to the basement research facility by the time the nursing staff discovered his absence.
Two armed agents stopped Jason as they left the elevator.
“No one is allowed beyond this point, sir.”
“Do you know who I am, agent?” Jason asked.
>
“Yes, sir. You are Jason Connors, sir.”
“Very good. So, unless the head of Home Security or the President of the United States has given you explicit orders not to let me by, I suggest you stand aside right now.”
The agent considered this for a moment and stepped aside, opening the door for Jason’s admittance.
Jason had to admit that there was little likelihood of Catina escaping or Tiburon breaking in.
They stopped at the last post, unguarded. “She’s in there, sir.”
“Open the door,” Jason commanded.
“I don’t have a key, sir. It’s remote controlled.” He looked at the camera. “If you’ll command Mark Simpson to open the door sir, I’m sure he will.”
Jason turned to the camera, identified himself, and commanded the door to be open. For a moment he thought his order was going to be ignored, but finally the light on the door turned green. He turned to Harold. “I want you to stay out here. Don’t let anyone else in for the next hour. That is an order, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
He rolled the wheelchair into the room. At first, he thought Catina had managed to escape, since he saw no one in the room, but then he saw her in the far corner, curled into a ball, rocking.
“Catina?” He moved his chair towards her. When she looked up at him, he was shocked at her state. She was dying. Why couldn’t they see she was dying?
She stared as if she could not comprehend the vision. “Jason…is that really you?” Her voice was hoarse and low.
He leaned over to touch her forehead. She was cold as ice. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m starving,” she whispered. “And I dare not ask them for what I need.”
Jason knew what she needed. “Does it have to be human blood?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so, but it needs to be fresh.” She laid her head on his lap and ran her hands across his legs.
“Oh God.” He felt a surge of passion go through him. “Harold, get me out of here,” he called even as his hands pulled her face to his mouth and kissed her hard.
Cat Refuge Page 18
