There was such brooding speculation in his expression that I had to ask, “Which of your parents…?”
“Neither,” he said quickly. “My adoptive parents,” he added, the emphasis clear on the one word, “were very successful people, but there’s nothing supernatural about either one of them. Someone left me in a basket on the front step of Fire Station 226 in Brooklyn, and I was adopted a few months later. But obviously, I don’t know a single thing about my biological parents. I tried to find out, but there was nothing to find.”
If someone had told me a few weeks earlier that I might end up actually feeling sorry for Randall Lenz, I would have told them to put down the crack pipe. However, as I stared into his face and saw the toll decades of unanswered questions had taken on him, I couldn’t quite hold back a rush of pity. Yes, up until a few weeks earlier, I hadn’t known anything about my biological father except his name and the barest few details about him, but at least I’d had something. I’d known he was rich and handsome, and had two sons. Agent Lenz didn’t have even that much to hold on to. Had he spent his life wondering as he passed strangers on the street whether any of those people were his father, his mother?
Wisely, I held back any words of sympathy, since I doubted he would appreciate them. Instead, I said, “Jake thought your witch parent — or parents — might be from the Van Horn family. I guess they’re the witch clan in New York.”
“The Van Horns?” Lenz replied, looking almost startled.
“That’s what he said. You’ve heard of them?”
“Anyone who lives in New York has heard of them,” he said. “Or at least, anyone who moves in the same circles my mother does. Very old money. Philanthropists — you know, the kind of people who give millions to charity the way most of us put money in the Salvation Army pail during the holidays. I suppose if one of their daughters had gotten pregnant out of wedlock, then she would have done whatever she could to cover it up.”
Did anyone say “out of wedlock” anymore? I’d honestly never even cared that my parents hadn’t been married, despite getting teased a few times about not having a father by some of the nastier boys at the schools in the more conservative areas where my mother and I had lived. But if the Van Horns really were “old money” like the Rockefellers or something, I supposed I could see why getting pregnant without being safely married could be a problem.
All that was something to worry about at a later date, however.
Randall Lenz seemed to be thinking the same thing, because he said, “It’s one thing to have a program where each of the test subjects is believed to be one individual out of twenty or so million, nearly unique. It’s quite another to suddenly discover that there are tens of thousands of people with special abilities living among us. That would create a seismic shift in our society, one we might never recover from.” He paused, and once again his cool blue eyes took on a faraway look, one that appeared to be focused on something neither of us could see. “I came to work for Homeland Security to protect this country, and right now, I believe the best way to protect it is to make sure that Dr. Richards and her team never know the truth about the witch clans. And to do that….” The words trailed off, and his shoulders squared as he gazed down at me, those eyes now piercing as laser beams.
“To do that, we’ll have to end the Daedalus Project.”
21
He couldn’t quite believe those words had come out of his mouth. Had he really just suggested to Adara Grant that they put an end to the program which had consumed his life for the past three years?
Apparently, he had, because she was staring at him in shock, gray-green eyes wide with surprise. When she found her voice, her first words told him she wasn’t sure she could trust what he’d just said.
“You want to close down the project?” she demanded. “After everything you’ve done to get me here?”
“You and the others,” he corrected her. “Although you were a bit more difficult to acquire than any of the other test subjects.” Since Adara continued to stare at him, disbelief clear in her expression, he went on, “You think I don’t understand what I’m proposing? If I help you with this…if we’re successful…then my career is over. But when the alternative is revealing the truth about witch-kind….”
The words died away, the only sound that remained the persistent buzz of the bathroom fan overhead. Adara still gazed at him as if she couldn’t quite trust the evidence of her own ears. Not that he blamed her. He’d begun to wonder if he’d completely taken leave of his senses.
At the same time, deep down he understood why he had to do this. He’d taken an oath to protect the United States of America and its citizens, and the people of the witch clans were also those citizens. The risk of what might happen to them — to all those thousands of people just trying to live their lives — if the truth should ever come out was far too great. People’s fear of the unknown was a terrible thing.
Adara was quiet, her expression troubled, although she didn’t argue with him, only stood there, apparently wrestling with her own thoughts. At last she said, “Okay. But if this is another trick — ”
“No tricks,” he cut in. Paradoxically, he felt much better now that he’d made a decision and only had to come up with an actionable plan. Some people might have called him crazy for throwing away nearly two decades of work with Homeland Security, but he knew he was doing the right thing. When he came out the other side of this — if he did — then he could decide what to do with the rest of his life. For the moment, however, the main problem at hand was how to free Jake Wilcox and the rest of the test subjects being held at the facility. Lenz knew he might not have a better opportunity than now, if only because it was the middle of the night and there weren’t nearly as many people around as there were during the day. “I told you I would help. You may not believe this about me, Ms. Grant, but when I say I’m going to do something, I do it.”
“‘Addie,’” she corrected him. Although she wasn’t precisely smiling, her expression had lightened a bit. “I mean,” she went on, “if we’re going to be allies in this, we might as well be on a first-name basis. Do you prefer Randall or Randy?”
“Randall,” he said at once, trying not to grimace. His mother had called him Randy up until the time he was around nine, at which point he’d solemnly informed her that he didn’t like the nickname and wanted her to use his proper name.
Adara’s mouth twitched. “Good. You really didn’t seem like a Randy to me. So, do you have a plan?”
He didn’t — not yet, anyway. All of the project’s test subjects were housed on either the floor where he and Addie stood or the one below it, but those suites were closely monitored by the facility’s security system. While he might have been able to usher one or two of the “guests” out of their rooms and off to a waiting vehicle, there was no way he’d be able to get all fourteen — well, fifteen, if you counted Jake Wilcox — away before someone noticed what was going on.
If they were all together, however….
He nodded to himself, and Addie tilted her head at him. “What is it?”
“Our protocols call for all the test subjects to gather in the multipurpose unit in case of an emergency. Once they’re at the unit, they’ll be moved to a waiting van to be housed off-site.”
She nodded, clearly grasping what he was suggesting. “And then you hijack the van.”
“For lack of a better term, yes.” He didn’t like the idea very much — he could already think of at least a dozen scenarios where things could go very wrong — but he also knew it was probably the best chance they had.
“And you want me to manufacture an emergency,” she said.
His thoughts had run precisely along those lines, but once again, he was surprised by how quickly she’d been able to grasp the situation. “Could you?”
A shrug. Her expression was almost studiously casual, and yet he detected a tension in her slender form, as though she feared she might not be up to this particular task afte
r all. “Well, lightning can be pretty destructive,” she said. Her face brightened a bit as she added, “Are you on the regular power grid, or do you have your own power plant here?”
“We’re an independent facility,” he told her. “So no, we’re not on the grid. The power generating plant is located on the property to the west of the main building.”
“A direct strike would knock you out for how long?”
“I don’t know whether it would knock us out at all,” he said. “We have redundancies built in to avoid that sort of situation.”
Strangely, Addie didn’t look too dismayed by that particular piece of information. In fact, she smiled slightly. “Could those redundancies keep up with multiple lightning strikes in a short period of time?”
Good question. While he knew the building had been designed to withstand hurricanes and even low-level tornadoes, he somehow doubted the engineers who’d built its self-contained power grid had ever imagined the system being struck repeatedly by lightning. “It’s never been tested in that sort of scenario. Educated guess…probably not.”
“Well, then, I know what I need to do.” She paused and glanced up at the ceiling. “But you’ll need to get me out of this suite. I can’t do much stuck ten floors underground.”
“Eight,” he corrected her, although he knew the exact number didn’t matter that much. “And getting you out isn’t a problem. No one is going to question me as to why I’m taking you up to the ground level.”
“Being the boss has its perks, I guess.”
Yes, it did. Not that he had the ultimate authority at the SED — that rested with Under-Secretary Bryant — but Lenz doubted anyone was going to ask questions about him guiding one test subject to the courtyard. And while he knew his authority to move freely about the facility would be short-lived once it was found out what he was up to, he figured he might as well exploit it while he could.
“So, you’ll short out the power grid with coordinated lightning strikes,” he said. “As soon as the power plant fails, the facility will switch to generator power, and the guards on the two dormitory levels will take everyone to the multipurpose unit to keep them safely in one place. Emergency texts will be sent to Dr. Richards and her team, but with any luck, they won’t be able to reach the facility before I’ve gotten everyone out of the building.”
“And into the van.”
“Yes.”
Herding the test subjects would be the trickiest part of the plan, since the task of moving all their “guests” was supposed to fall on any guards who were on duty at the time. However, Lenz didn’t think they would have too much trouble with him wanting to manage that task himself; it made sense that the director would oversee the evacuation of the test subjects in the event he was present during such an emergency.
“And after that?” Addie asked.
To Hyde Field, he supposed. He had the codes that would get him into the hangar where his jet was stored. True, while he had a pilot’s license, he’d only trained on Cessnas and Pipers and had never actually flown a jet, but he supposed that was where they’d get to see how strong the rumored “luck” gift that Addie claimed he possessed actually was.
“I’ll fly us out of here,” he said. “Luckily, the jet seats eighteen, or we’d be in trouble.”
“Even more trouble than we already are, you mean,” she said, mouth twitching slightly.
Was she not taking this seriously? Lenz wanted to frown, but a closer look at Addie’s face told him she was probably just trying to make the best of a bad situation, while at the same time steeling herself for the tasks that lay ahead.
“I suppose so.” He glanced down at his watch. Five minutes past midnight. A new set of guards would have just come on duty. That might not be a good thing, because they’d be fresh and alert, rather than tired at the end of a shift and wanting to go home. On the other hand, they might not have settled down into their routine quite yet, and might be more likely to make mistakes.
And he could go back and forth with himself all night if he didn’t stop now. While he’d always thought of himself as a decisive person, he knew precisely what lay ahead for him if he continued on this course of action. Disgrace, the loss of his job, the loss of any hope of a future working for Homeland Security…or the government at all. It might not be too late to turn back.
But he looked down at Addie, at the way she was watching him quietly, determination clear in the set of her jaw and her slender shoulders. She meant to do this thing, and he realized then that he couldn’t leave her hanging. He’d destroyed the life she once had, which meant it was his destiny to do what he could to ensure a happy future for her.
If he destroyed his own life in the process, so be it. He couldn’t deny that he deserved such a fate after what he’d done to her…and to the rest of the people in the program.
Her expression was also just the slightest bit speculative, as if she still wasn’t quite sure whether he was truly going to follow through with his plans. Could he blame her for her distrust?
He’d done a great deal to earn it, after all.
Well, he’d have to do his best to make her believe he had her best interests at heart…starting now.
“Let’s go,” he said, and reached over to turn off the bathroom fan.
It took exactly forty-four steps to cross the living room of his luxurious prison cell. Jake knew that because he’d already paced back and forth across the space at least ten times. His head pounded and his legs felt wobbly despite the food he’d been provided — a surprisingly decent slab of well-seasoned roast chicken breast accompanied by mashed potatoes and steamed green beans. He’d eaten because he knew he’d probably regret it if he didn’t, although the dinner didn’t seem to have done much to improve his condition.
Most likely, he should be sleeping, but he knew trying to get any rest would be a futile endeavor. How could he sleep while his thoughts raced, urgent with worry for Addie? As much as he tried to tell himself that she would be okay, that she’d already been held in this same facility for several days and had lived to tell the tale, he didn’t know if he truly believed that. After they’d caused him so much trouble, Randall Lenz might be out for revenge.
Never in his life had Jake felt so helpless…except maybe after he learned of Sarah’s death, had realized that if he’d gone along on that ill-fated kayaking trip, he might have been able to save her. If something happened to Addie while he sat here on his ass, he’d never forgive himself.
Maybe that was why he kept pacing. If nothing else, it made him feel as if he was doing something.
A small popping sound, followed by another, and suddenly, Connor and Angela were standing in the room, blocking Jake’s progress. Their appearance was so unexpected that for a second he could only stare at them, wondering if he’d finally lost his mind.
“Hi, Jake,” Connor said.
“What — ?”
“It’s okay,” Angela said gently. She glanced up at her husband before adding, “You didn’t think we were going to just leave you here, did you?”
“I — ” Jake closed his mouth, then shook his head. “How did you find me?”
“How do you think?” Connor said. “Jeremy still has access to the surveillance system here. When you and Addie didn’t show up at ten like you were supposed to, we knew something had to have gone wrong. Angela and I went over to your place and found Taffy locked up in the downstairs bathroom and the two of you missing, and we guessed what must have happened.”
“Taffy’s okay?” Jake asked, inwardly berating himself for not even thinking about his poor dog. She’d been nowhere in evidence when he and Addie had come home, and he realized Agent Lenz must have locked her up to keep her out of the way.
“She’s fine,” Angela replied. “She had a bowl of water and some food. Mostly, she was just annoyed at being trapped in there.”
“Anyway,” Connor said. “It didn’t take us too long to figure out what must have happened. I called Jeremy and asked
him to take a look at the facility’s security feed and see if he could find any trace of you. Which he did, and once we had a good visual, Angela and I teleported here to bust you out.”
While Jake was relieved to hear that Taffy hadn’t suffered too much during her ordeal, he couldn’t help noticing that neither Connor nor Angela had said anything about Addie. “And Addie?”
The prima and primus looked at each other, and Angela’s shoulders lifted slightly. “We don’t know,” she said. “Jeremy was able to tap into the feed in her room, but she wasn’t there.”
Which meant Lenz must have taken her somewhere else. Jake hated the thought of her trapped someplace with the man, unable to get away. “We’ve got to find her!”
“And we will,” Connor said. “But first, we need to get you out of here. Jeremy’s working his magic on the security cameras, so no one will be able to discover that we infiltrated the facility a second time, but we still shouldn’t be hanging around for too long.”
Under other circumstances, Jake would have been all too glad to get out of there as quickly as possible. At the moment, though, he refused to leave until he knew Addie was safe as well. “If Jeremy’s messing with the surveillance system, then we have time. I’m not going anywhere until I know Addie is all right.”
Connor’s jaw set, and his eyes glittered. For just a second, he looked uncomfortably like his brother Damon. “We’ll find her, Jake. But digging in your heels isn’t helping the situation.”
“Wanting to make sure she’s okay isn’t ‘digging in my heels,’” he argued.
An exasperated gust of breath escaped Angela’s lips. “We all want her to be okay, Jake. And Jeremy’s conducting the search from his end. He can probably do a lot more good than any of us can. Once he finds her, Connor and I can jump right back in and grab her, no matter where she is.”
Winds of Change Page 24
