Prosper jerked awake and stared into the eyes of a stuffed dragon. He rolled over and looked up at his son who was kneeling on the bed beside him. He rubbed his eyes, the distant beat of a headache throbbing in his temples.
“Morning.” He stifled a yawn.
“Why aren’t you in your own bed?” Leon asked.
“Well your bed looked so comfy I thought I’d try it out.”
“Mum, mum, dad’s in my bed.”
Prosper swung his legs off the edge and nursed his head in his hands. A moment later the door opened and Natasha walked in wearing a dressing gown, hands on the wall for extra support for her leg brace.
“Prosper,” she said. “What on earth are you doing in here? What time did you get in last night?”
He forced a smile. “It was late. I didn’t want to wake you.”
“So you thought you’d wake Leon instead?”
“He sleeps like a log. There was no chance he would wake.”
Natasha frowned. Prosper could tell she was unconvinced.
“Why didn’t you return any of my calls? I was worried about you.”
“Sorry, battery must have run out.”
“And you didn’t think to find a phone to call?”
“I just didn’t think.”
“That’s typical of you.” She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “So did you get the job?”
Prosper nodded, wincing as it aggravated the growing pain in his temples.
“Well I guess that explains the smell of alcohol.”
“My new boss took me out to celebrate, I couldn’t say no.” He hoped she wouldn’t see through his lie.
“Well when do you start this new job then?”
“I’ve already started.”
“Don’t you have to give notice?”
“It’s sorted.” Leon started bouncing on the bed beside him, making Prosper’s head hurt even more, so he stood up, walked across the room and put his arms around his wife. He kissed her on the lips. “Sorry about not calling. You know I love you.”
Natasha kissed him back. “Well you can make us all breakfast to make up for it. And I’ll have mine in bed.”
“You can have it anywhere you want it – and the breakfast,” Prosper said with a grin and a wink.
The roads seemed deserted as Prosper drove across town. His first job was to return to the research centre to find out as much as he could about the escaped prisoner. Although he didn’t know if prisoner was the right word, as he was more of a test subject by all accounts. He still couldn’t believe this sort of thing was going on.
When he arrived at the building, he parked in the forecourt and walked towards the door. Lester had given him a security pass, and told everyone concerned with the project to give him their full co-operation.
When he reached the door, he stood before it and waved up at the camera. A moment later, the door opened and he walked inside and continued along the corridor to the scanner on the wall. His details had been input into the system, so when he placed his hand against the device and the light scanned his palm, the door opened with a swish.
The burly guard he had seen a couple of other times was on reception.
“I’m here to get as many details as I can about the escaped prisoner,” Prosper said.
The guard placed his hands on the desk. “Then you’ll need to talk to Klement. He’s in charge.”
“I will in good time.” He withdrew his notebook and pen. “First, I want to ask you a few questions. As I saw you there, I know you worked at the hub where the prisoner escaped from.”
The guard nodded. “We rotated facilities.”
“What’s your name?”
The man skewed his lips and cocked his head from side to side. “Why?”
“Because I’m asking, that’s why.”
“Stuart Rogers.”
Prosper made a note of his name. “So did you know the prisoner who escaped?”
“Yes, prisoner 142345”
“Does he have a name?”
“I presume so. All I know is his number. We don’t call people by names. Numbers let them know their status.”
“I see.” Prosper wrote the prisoners number down, and jotted a few notes. “And what is their status?”
“They’re prisoners. Scum.”
“But they’re still people at the end of the day.”
“Not in here they’re not.”
“Mr. Snow, back again so soon?”
Prosper turned to see Klement standing behind him. “I just need to ask a few questions.”
“Of course. You know my men and I are at your disposal.”
“Well I need all the records for prisoner—” he glanced at his notes “142345.”
“Not a problem. I just want him brought back. Follow me and I’ll get you what you need.”
Prosper started following Klement. At the end of the corridor he turned back and looked at Rogers, saw he was glaring back at him. Klement lead the way into a room filled with files. In the distance Prosper heard someone sobbing.
“Doesn’t it disturb you, what you’re doing?”
Klement frowned. “It’s just an experiment, why should it disturb me?”
“You’re goading people into killing, that’s why, and now one of your subjects is out there doing just that to innocent people. What if he killed someone you know?”
“Statistically that’s not very likely.”
“But just say he did.”
“Then I presume I’d be devastated.”
“So how can you justify it?”
“I don’t mean to be rude, Mr. Snow, but I thought you were here to help track down our missing subject, not to grill me on the question of morality.” He proceeded to open a drawer and leaf through files. “Ah, here it is.” He pulled a manila folder out and handed it to Prosper. “I believe everything you need to know is in there.”
Prosper accepted the file and opened it up.
“Please, make yourself comfortable, Mr. Snow.” Klement pointed to a small desk and chair. “I have business to attend to.” With that, he walked out of the room.
Prosper sat and emptied the contents of the folder onto the desk. There were stacks of papers. The top sheet was headed:
142345 – Peter Clarke.
Sex: Male
Age: 28.
Height: 5’ 10”
Weight: 11 stone 4 pounds.
IQ: 119
Distinguishing features: tattoos on both arms and neck.
Habitual drug offender. Offered a place in project Nurture.
A photograph of Clarke was attached to the top sheet. It showed a pale man with drawn features and hollow eyes. He looked almost skeletal, the tattoo of a spider’s web on his neck standing out in sharp relief.
Prosper flicked the sheet over.
December 28th. A course of drug treatment undertaken.
Memory wipe: January 4th. Result: successful. Subject is placed in solitary confinement for 6 days.
Procedures undertaken:
1) January 10th. Audio and visual bombardment of violence.
2) January 15th. 142345 is subjected to continuous beatings.
3) January 20th. Fly test. Result: subject eradicated all flies within three hours and is rewarded with praise.
4) January 21st. Beatings restart.
5) January 23rd. Mice test. Result: subject eradicated mice within two hours and was rewarded with praise and food treats.
6) January 29th. Audio and visual bombardment of violence.
7) February 4th. Rabbit test. Result: subject eradicated and eviscerated rabbits when ordered to within 30 minutes and was rewarded with special privileges.
8) February 5th. Beatings and suppression continue.
9) February 10th. Lamb test. Result: subject refused to comply.
10) February 10th. Audio and visual bombardment of violence coupled with beatings.
11) February 14th. Lamb test. Result: lamb was eradicated within 10 minutes and sub
ject was praised and rewarded with food.
12) February 18th. Audio and visual bombardment.
13) February 21st. Goat test. Result: subject eradicated goat within 5 minutes and was praised and rewarded with special privileges.
Prosper swallowed and licked his lips. What they were doing was inhuman.
14) February 25th. Audio and visual bombardment.
Notes: subject is now showing signs of open hostility and aggressive behaviour. A fight broke out between 142345 and 231234. 142345 and 231234 were rewarded with special privileges.
Prosper flicked through the rest of the notes. There were details on drugs administered, treatments received for injuries sustained and so forth. It made for disturbing reading.
When he had finished, Prosper lay the papers down and leaned back. This was much worse than he ever imagined. They were creating monsters.
Rivers refocused his binoculars and looked at the building along the road. His long wait had been rewarded when Prosper turned up a few hours ago.
The building was five storeys high, and most of the windows had been smashed. As Prosper had been inside for a good few hours, Rivers reasoned that this was where the man Prosper had met yesterday had brought him. But what were they up to?
If they wanted Rivers out of the way, then it must be something important. And that meant that there might be money to be made out of it. If so, then he wanted his piece of the action.
Almost three hours after he entered, Prosper exited the building and drove away. Rivers watched him go, and then refocused on the building. Despite its rundown appearance, he knew there must be something inside to have kept Prosper there for so long, but he couldn’t just walk inside without knowing what was going on, so he sat and waited.
Just before two o’clock, a blue, unmarked minibus drove along the road. Rivers focused the binoculars on it. By the state of their dress, the occupants were some form of security guards, of which there looked to be about eight of them.
The minibus drove underneath the archway Prosper had driven through. Fifteen minutes later it reappeared and drove away. The seats were all occupied. Rivers surmised that there had been a shift change.
Now he knew that anywhere that had that much security must have something to hide. All he had to do now was find out what that something was.
CHAPTER 28
Lester had given Prosper an address and asked him to meet there at midday. The address was situated in the heart of the city, where navigating the streets by car was an art in itself with one-way systems and bus lane only areas.
The building was a tall glass fronted structure situated in-between two banking offices. Smartly dressed businessmen and women went in and out of the banks like worker ants.
Prosper slowed down as he drove past the building. There was no name on the front, just a number by the large revolving doors, 111.
Lester had told him that parking was available around the back, so he continued driving and then turned left into a side street. He then took another left until he was at the rear of the property. A ramp led underneath the building, like a tongue protruding from a dark maw. There was a barrier across the entrance. Prosper drove up to it; noticed a box on a post with a push button. Security cameras stared down at him from above the entrance.
Prosper lowered his window to press the button when the barrier went up by itself. He drove underneath it and found himself in a car park dotted with various vehicles. Spotting a space, he parked and then exited the vehicle, following signs on the wall marked, ‘Entrance’ with an arrow underneath. He noticed more CCTV cameras protruding from the columns that supported the high ceiling.
Once he reached the lift, he entered and pressed the Lobby button. The door shut with a soft clunk and then opened seconds later. Having not felt the lift move, he thought there was a problem, but when he looked out of the door, he saw that it had delivered him to the Lobby.
Prosper stepped out and walked across to an entrance guarded by two men. Potted plants were situated next to the glass-fronted window. Prosper looked up; saw balconies of chrome and glass disappearing into the high, vaulted ceiling.
“Security pass please,” one of the nondescript guards said, as Prosper approached. Prosper pulled out the card Lester had given him, and the guard scanned it with an electronic device and then stepped aside to let Prosper through.
“You’re expected. Room 221. Up the stairs, second floor.”
Prosper nodded and made his way up the steps in the middle of the building, the glass on either side of which made it appear that there was no protection from falling, making him feel slightly dizzy.
Once he reached the second floor, signs pointed in either direction, indicating the room numbers. Prosper turned right and walked along the balcony, the glass panels of which allowed him to look down at the foyer. There was a short gap between the balcony and the glass frontage, through which he could see the buildings opposite. He wondered if the occupants had a clue what sort of place this was.
When he reached room 221, he knocked on the wooden door and a woman shouted for him to enter. He walked through, smelling pungent perfume. A secretary seated behind a desk smiled at him. She looked to be in her mid twenties, was wearing a yellow shirt and had her black hair tied back in a ponytail.
“Good afternoon. Mr. Snow, I presume.”
Prosper nodded.
“One moment.” She pressed an intercom button on the desk. “Mr. Snow is here to see you.”
“Send him through.”
“Straight through the door,” the secretary said.
“Thanks.” He crossed the room. When he reached the door, he opened it without knocking and walked through.
Lester sat behind a large oak desk towards the back of the room, which measured about thirty feet by twenty. The bottom half of the surrounding walls was covered in leather, the top half plain white. Sunshine radiated through the expansive single pane window behind Lester, softening his outline. There was a computer on the desk, along with papers, books, a telephone and pens. Alongside these sat a small plaque that read, ‘Do it right first time.’ A couple of pictures were hanging on the wall to Prosper’s left. Both of them were of hunting scenes. In between these was a certificate with a government seal.
“Prosper, please, sit.” Lester indicated the chair opposite, which unlike his throne-like padded chair was a simple straight-backed chair with a hard back and a padded seat.
Prosper sat.
“I hear you’ve already started your investigation into subject 142345.”
“Yes, I’ve made a start in researching Peter Clarke if that’s what you mean.”
Lester nodded. “Good, good. I hope the doctor and his associates were cooperative.”
“They gave me what I asked for.”
“Well of course I don’t expect you to work alone on the case, so I’ve assigned a couple of agents to work with you.”
“A couple of agents?”
“Yes, you’ll report to Brundle and Williams. They’re both already up to speed on the case and they’ll be able to show you the ropes as you go along. Now, on to other matters.” He leaned forwards and knitted his hands together on the desk. “You’ll have to undergo firearms training.”
Prosper pursed his lips.
“We’re licensed to carry firearms, and you’ll undergo training and be issued with a certificate and a weapon.”
“Is that really necessary?”
“In this line of work, most certainly. The people we hunt are dangerous, and we use maximum force to achieve our aims, our motto being, Omni ope atque opera, which basically means, ‘Whatever it takes to get the job done’.”
Hunt! It seemed a strange choice of word, but then considering the activities the unit was involved with, perhaps it wasn’t.
“Okay, so when do I get to meet Brundle and Williams?”
“There’s no time like the present. They’re waiting for you in the briefing room on the ground floor. They’ll show you around,
and I’ve instructed them to start your firearms training.”
“Wouldn’t it be of more importance to catch Clarke first, before he kills again?”
“The motto, Prosper, remember the motto, whatever it takes to get the job done.”
Prosper stood up, acknowledged Lester with a nod, and then walked out of the room, through the knockout gas of the secretary’s perfume, and then made his way back downstairs. Everything was well signposted and he followed a brightly lit corridor into the heart of the building.
He entered the briefing room, instantly recognising the couple that sat chatting at one of the tables as the man and woman that had accompanied Klement when the body was found in the public convenience.
The man looked across and nodded. The woman smiled.
“Brundle and Williams?”
“She’s Brundle, and I’m Williams.” The man stood up and offered his hand to shake. He towered over Prosper, and his grip was like that of a bear. He was dressed casually in a dark blue jumper and jeans.
Brundle indicated the chair opposite. “Take the weight off.”
Prosper sat. He had the feeling her comment was intentional and that she knew about his corpulent past.
“I take it Lester’s told you a little about what we do.”
“Yeah, a little.”
Brundle was also dressed down in a white t-shirt, her shoulder length dark hair tied into a small ponytail. She pursed her lips. “I guess our existence came as a bit of a shock.”
Prosper shrugged. “No more than finding that effigy of Jesus on my toast the other day.”
“Really.”
“Yeah, I was going to charge people to look at it, but then I thought fuck it, I’m hungry, so I ate it instead.”
“I do recall that you like your food.”
Prosper clenched his hands together under the table and tried to keep the irritation from showing on his face. Obviously they knew a lot more about him than he knew about them. “Well they say an army marches on its stomach, so I like to keep my strength up.”
“You’ll need it in this job,” Williams said.
Prosper looked around the room, which consisted of two long tables with six chairs either side. At the front of the room, there was a large rectangular board with a map of the area; around which were photographs of the people that Clarke had killed. They had all been bludgeoned to death, hardly recognisable now. There were six victims. Red pieces of string lead from each photograph to a pin on the map, presumably indicating where they were killed. There were also copious notes tacked around or scrawled in marker pen.
Prosper Snow Series Page 38
