World Order

by David Archer

  "This is where they grabbed him, right?" Litchfield asked, ignoring Neil's nod. "We’ve already checked here and found nothing. We know they needed to see him entering the building in order to spring the trap."

  He trailed off, moving back out of the room and across the warehouse to the back door, searching the walls once more for cameras or something that might have alerted the kidnappers to Swaggart’s arrival. As he expected, there was nothing and he moved through the door out into the light of the late afternoon.

  Neil followed, a little confused. "What exactly are you looking for?" he asked, wanting to help as much as he could. After all, it wasn't just Swaggart in trouble; Marco was a victim in this, as well.

  Litchfield turned to him, a determined look in his eye. "We know they needed to know where Swaggart was coming from. Which means, if we back trace his steps…"

  Neil got it, grinning in pre-emptive triumph. "We should be able to find something that would let them know he was here."

  “Exactly,” Litchfield said. “Now let’s find it.”

  * * *

  The hospital seemed just as busy as it had earlier that day as Renée and Sarah walked the halls to find post-op. They had already spoken to Dr. Garza, who had told them that surgery had gone well. Lisa had been out of the operating room for a little more than three hours—though neither woman knew where the time had gone—and should be waking up any time now.

  Thankfully, Sarah seemed to know where she was going, because Renée had no clue. The sheer size of this building was slightly overwhelming, even after four years of working back at R&D, in Neverland. They finally found the recovery ward, and with a few directions from the nurse on duty, the two women found their way to where Lisa lay in a bed, awake, her arm in a sling. A guard at the door checked their IDs before opening the door for them.

  She jumped as Sarah pushed back the curtains around her bed, her face dropping with guilt as she recognized them. She dropped her head and sighed.

  "You didn't get to him in time, did you?"

  Sarah shared a look with Renée, and then moved to stand by Lisa once again. "That’s not your fault," she comforted. "However, you might be able to help us find him."

  Lisa looked up, her eyes glistening with tears. She nodded. "I'll do what I can, but I don't really know that I can honestly be much help."

  "That’s fine," Sarah assured her again, her words and tone more soothing than anything Renée could have managed under the circumstances. "We want to ask you some questions, and you just answer them as well as you can, okay?"

  She looked up at Sarah and nodded.

  Sarah smiled at her. "You said before that they would pick you up before going to find each man. Where would they pick you up from?"

  "Where you found me," Lisa told them. "They put me in that apartment. They would call on the phone they gave me, and tell me to meet them outside in ten minutes or so."

  "Do you still have that phone?" Sarah asked, guessing the answer before Lisa shook her head.

  It didn't matter. Sarah made a mental not to see if there was security tape footage from outside the apartment building. "What days and times did they pick you up?"

  Lisa swallowed. "Lieutenant Belcher, that was almost two weeks ago, now. They called me at somewhere around about three in the morning. Ten minutes later I was in the car. The next was two days later, at four. And the third one, another three days later, at noon." She looked down, shaking her head. "You do believe me, don't you?" she asked, looking back up, her eyes wide in sorrow. "That I didn't want to do it?"

  Before Renée could let off some remark about still doing it anyway, Sarah laid a hand on Lisa’s arm. "We believe you," she muttered simply, and, to Sarah’s relief, Lisa didn't start crying any more than she already was. She went on. "When did they tell you about the fourth man?"

  "Um, just a few days ago. I'm not sure, really. I kinda lost track of time after him. I was a total wreck, I wasn't sleeping, eating, going to work. Yeah, four days ago, I think. They called me up, told me to meet them. They took me for a drive, I told them no, that I was done. They threatened my father again, then they just dropped me off and told me to wait for the next call."

  "But it never came?" Sarah asked, and Lisa shook her head.

  "No. Instead they came to kill me. And that's when you both showed up." She suddenly looked startled and looked them both in the eye. "Did I ever thank you for that?"

  Sarah smiled gently. "There’s no need. What kind of car did they drive?"

  Lisa shrugged helplessly. "A black one? I'm sorry, I've never been good with cars. It was a sedan, I think. A driver and another man up front. Two guards in the back with me."

  "Did these guards wear a uniform of any kind?" Sarah asked. Lisa shrugged again.

  "Not really. Black clothes, sunglasses. They didn't have any patches or anything that I could see. I was terrified anyway, and I didn't really look at them. They always carried tasers though."

  "Did they mention any company name or anything like that?" Sarah asked. "Anything about who they worked for? Cities? Anything they might have been dealing with."

  Lisa shook her head again. "They were always careful not to say much in front of me," she told them. Suddenly she shrugged. "Although…"

  She trailed off and Sarah shared another glance with Renée. "Although what?" Renée demanded.

  Lisa shrugged. "On the third run. The man in the front seat was on the phone about some kind of equipment that was being delivered."

  "Delivered where?" Sarah asked, hoping it would be exactly this easy. Then her hopes were dashed when Lisa shook her head.

  "They didn't say what or where, but I heard them say when. Supposedly a truck was bringing it in at eleven AM the next day and that they would need it if they ever moved the experiments back to the lab." She looked sheepish. “Do you think that could help any?”

  Sarah nodded. "I think it might,” she said. She closed her notepad and managed to smile at the injured woman. "Thank you, Lisa. We'll be in touch if we have any more questions."

  She left, and Renée forced herself to offer Lisa a small smile before slipping out of the room. The guard on duty closed the door behind them, and Sarah turned to her companion.

  "I don’t know how you do it," Sarah said. “If Noah was missing...”

  “I just keep telling myself everything is going to be okay,” Renée said. “You know, it really isn’t Lisa’s fault. I don’t know about you, but I can imagine being forced to do something terrible to protect someone I love.”

  Sarah just looked at her, thinking that she’d do as much to protect Noah. "Yeah, I guess I see the point. It’s just…"

  She trailed off, not quite able to find the right word, not when Marco, the man who was Renée’s husband and almost like a brother to Sarah, was in serious trouble.

  "I know. Believe me, I know."

  * * *

  Marco paced the cell restlessly, still rubbing his wrists from where the thin wires had cut into them. The cell wasn't nearly long or wide enough to get any serious pacing going, but the E & E agent was doing the best he could with what he had, barely noticing that he had to stop and turn every fifteen feet. He just kept going, lost in his thoughts.

  He was worried; not for himself, but after hearing that Swaggart had been kidnapped only to be turned into one of those things, Marco was dragged back to this cell to pace and imagine what was happening.

  That had been hours ago. What the hell was going on?

  He suddenly realized he had paused in his pacing and shook his head, turning around to go back the way he had come, when the door to the cell opened. Marco looked up in surprise, taking a step back as Swaggart was shoved into the room, barefoot and wearing scrubs instead of his shirt and jeans. The door was closed before the captain could even regain his footing.

  Swaggart turned and scowled at the closed door, while Marco watched him carefully for any sign that he was already being subjected to the treatments. Of course, when Swaggart turne
d around to face him, he noticed, and lost his frustration.

  "Are you still you?" Marco asked, and Swaggart nodded wearily, finding a spot on the wall to slide down.

  "Yeah. Still me. They were just running some tests. Getting their baseline levels on the chemicals in my system. They haven’t injected me with anything, yet." He rubbed his eyes. "Thank God."

  Marco sat down against the wall too, facing the door. "You all right? You know, relatively speaking."

  "I'm fine," Swaggart responded automatically.

  "Really?" Marco asked, looking at him. "Cause you look like crap. What did they do to you?"

  "Blood tests, MRI, that kind of thing. I'm just wrecked. I don't think I've slept at all in the last three days."

  Marco couldn't help but laugh at that, and it was contagious, at least a little. Swaggart grinned too.

  "Yeah," Marco said, shaking his head. "Since when do we need a little thing like sleep, right?"

  “Don’t worry,” Swaggart said. “We can catch up on sleep when we get out of here.”

  "You mean if," Marco sighed, looking across at his cellmate. "And provided they don't turn you into some kind of alien monster type thing."

  Swaggart actually flinched, his face hardening. "We'll get out of here," he promised vehemently. "These people, whoever they are, seriously underestimate the type of resources our people have at their disposal. I haven’t known your Noah very long, but something tells me he isn’t a man to give up on trying to save you." He grinned. “You know, it may be the fact they brought you along that ends up saving us both.”

  Marco grinned back. “Yeah,” he said. “Could be I’m your good luck charm.”

  * * *

  Jenny stared through the small window in the door at Morris, her anger bubbling just below the surface. She was working herself up, and it was all too easy, thinking about this man, and all that he had done. All too easy.

  That was because, in the morgue, the formerly nervous and anxious Dr. Morris was smiling smugly, a triumphant, arrogant sneer in his eyes.

  He knew. He knew his sacrifice had been worth it, when he considered the bigger picture. He knew Swaggart had fallen for the trap, and that was worth taking the risks he had taken. All he had to do now was wait, because someone would be coming to rescue him from these government thugs. He knew that, too.

  Jenny stepped into the morgue and stood just inside the door, looking at him. She didn’t say a word, she didn’t make a move, she just looked at him. Morris had looked up as she entered, and his face split in a grin that made her want to smash the bastard's face in. Well, there was still plenty of time. She’d get to that eventually.

  "What, they sent a girl this time?" Morris asked, crossing his arms and leaning back. Jenny just stood there, just looking at him. She let him look her over, noticing how small she was, before she took several slow steps toward him.

  "How long did you have this planned?" she asked, and Morris shrugged, cocky in his victory.

  "Since we figured out Swaggart was the mole who had gotten inside."

  Jenny shrugged. "Really? And how long was that, do you think?"

  Morris raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I don’t know, probably the last six months or so. I volunteered for this assignment, did you know that? That’s how badly I wanted to see him go down. Anybody who works against the project, that’s all they deserve. It won’t be long before he’ll be one of the creatures we use to help bring the world to submission." Morris laughed.

  "And my friend Marco?" Jenny asked. “What is going to happen to him?”

  Morris looked surprised at that, but then he shrugged. "If he was there and got taken, it's his own fault. They only wanted Swaggart."

  Jenny looked up at him, eyeing the man easily, standing just a few feet in front of him. "Do you even know what they'll do to him?" she asked.

  "Of course I do. He’ll be getting the latest strain of the cocktail, the one that gives all the best enhancements and leaves you completely docile and obedient." Morris shook his head. "I've done my job. And for that, I won't be sent to some big, dark government hole. My people will get me out."

  Jenny chuckled. "I wouldn't be so sure about that." She crossed her arms and looked at him. "You see, I have a special job of my own. I’m our interrogations specialist. What that means is that I’m the one who gets to make you talk, and before you start talking about rights and things like that, you should understand that—well, frankly I don’t give a damn about them."

  For the first time Morris's composure slipped. Then he grinned again. "You wouldn’t dare."

  Jenny reached out, her hand moving faster than Morris’ eyes could follow, and a searing pain appeared on his face. He slapped a hand up to his cheek, and it came away covered in blood instantly, and that’s when he saw the scalpel in her hand.

  “Here’s where things get interesting,” she said. “You tell me where I can find Marco and Swaggart, and I don’t skin you alive. That was just to show you how serious I am.” She leaned down and looked him in the eye. “Just so you know, I’m really, really hoping you’re not going to give in too easily. I haven’t had this much fun in quite a while.”

  "I don't know!" Morris cried, desperately trying to stop the blood pouring from his flayed cheek. "They didn't tell me where they were going!"

  "You don’t know?" Jenny demanded. “Try again, and this time you had better convince me.”

  Morris was blubbering. “All I know is that it was a chemical company, and they have some underground base they were going to…”

  Her hand flashed again, and something landed on the table in front of Morris. His eyes grew wide when he looked down and saw that it was his ear.

  Shrieking, Morris put a hand to that side of his head, oblivious to anything else but the pain and the blood. “You can’t do this,” he screamed. “This is torture, it’s not allowed!”

  “Oh, but I can,” Jenny said. “And, trust me, it’s not going to stop until you tell me what I want to know.” A hand moved again, and though he tried to flinch away, he was too late. Something else landed on the table, and he realized it was one of his fingers. He took his left hand down from his face and looked at it, seeing that his pinky had been cut off at the first joint.

  “Where—are—they?” Jenny asked, her voice dripping with rage. “Now!”

  Slowly, Morris managed to tear his eyes away from his bleeding finger. “You’re insane,” he said, his voice surprisingly calm. “All of you, you’re completely insane. You deserve everything that’s coming to you.”

  Jenny stood and looked at him for a couple of seconds, then opened her mouth to speak, but Noah burst through the door suddenly and stood to the side. "Jenny," the assassin said. "That’s enough. He gave us what we need. Neil says there’s only one chemical company in the area he could be referring to, and that has to be where they took Marco and Swaggart. You can stop, now.”

  Jenny was breathing heavily, and it took her a moment to get it under control. When she did, she looked at Noah and smiled sweetly. “We can go get them?”

  “We know the only place they could’ve taken them, and that is probably more than this guy could tell us. We don’t need anything more from Morris.”

  Jenny nodded, then turned to look at Morris one more time. She smiled, her hand flashed once more, and then she stood and watched as blood sprayed from his throat, ignoring it as it sprayed all over her. She watched until darkness settled into his eyes and his head drooped down to his chest.

  She walked out the door behind Noah and went straight to the shower room. Neil went in a moment later and took her some clean clothing.

  NINETEEN

  "Lisa heard them say something about a shipment due at eleven AM last Wednesday," Sarah explained. "That narrowed it down to two places. Modano Chemicals has a production lab in Caballito, or a distribution center that’s located in Pallermo."

  "Of course," Noah said, "we’re assuming they took Marco and Swaggart to one of their own locations."

>   Litchfield looked surprised. "Oh no, they definitely did." Noah turned to look at him expectantly, and he shrugged. "They naturally would, these people think they are invincible, untouchable. They would have set something up in plain sight, they’re that arrogant."

  "We don't have much time," Neil reminded them, bringing them back on track. “I think we need to pick one and get moving.”

  Noah nodded his head in agreement.

  "You’re right, we do. I think Dr. Morris was more helpful than he meant to be. The one thing he said was that we would be looking for a chemical company, so I’m betting on the distribution facility. It will be a bigger building, and he was very specific about there being an underground base. We’ll infiltrate that location first, it’s the most likely of the two to have the space they would need for an underground operation.”

  Major Wilson was standing beside Noah. "Our choppers can drop you outside the facility’s perimeter," he said. "I'll back you up with an entire platoon of Army Rangers, but there is no way we can sense anything underground, so if that guy is telling the truth, you’re gonna be on your own once you get inside. We won't even be able to hear you on the radio."

  "It doesn't matter."

  Litchfield, Neil and Noah all said it at the same time, and then they all looked at one another. Litchfield continued.

  "It doesn't matter," he repeated. "Swaggart's first rule. You don't leave people behind."

  Noah nodded. "That’s our rule, too. Okay then. Let’s get ready, it’s time to move."

  TWENTY

  They had barely gotten settled into the new facility. The strange, silent ships had brought them in a very short time, and then they had touched down behind a large building. As Danny and the others offloaded their equipment, he got a good look at what Brandon had told him about the ships’ ability to camouflage themselves. The thing was almost invisible, because it looked like the trees behind it were painted on its surface.

  It took a few hours to get everything set up, and by then, the day was getting close to its end. Janet came to fetch him around that time, and they went to a hastily assembled mess hall for dinner. When that was finished, she happily led him to the room they had been assigned, and spent the next hour showing him just how happy she was that he was no longer a prisoner.