by Nick Thacker
It was a woman, young and dark-skinned like the rest of the people they had seen on Dr. Lin’s phone. Her eyes were closed, but Julie could clearly see her naked chest rising and falling. She was alive.
And her arm had been halfway removed. A line of blood marked where the pair had been sawing, and the saw itself, metallic and shining with the sheen of crimson, sat nearby.
“Wh — what are you doing?” Sarah asked.
The man’s face darkened. “As I said, you two are not supposed to be here. I need you to leave, right now.” The man rushed forward and around the table toward Julie, his arms extended. Julie anticipated the attack and was prepared. She crouched, then plowed upward with her head, aiming directly for the man’s chest. She made contact and the two of them fell, the man landing on his back with Julie on top. He groaned and she felt and heard the air leaving his lungs.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said. “Tell me right now what this is all about. Dr. Lin came to our room last night and gave us pictures — pictures of people whose limbs had been removed. Much like this one almost is.”
The woman was shaking, but Sarah had stepped up next to her and placed her hand on her shoulder. “We’re not going to hurt you, but we’re serious. We need to know what this ‘laboratory’ is all about. We’re afraid there might be lives in danger.”
The woman began to sob. “It’s — it’s too late,” she whimpered. “Crawford… he won’t let us…”
“Let you what?” Julie asked. She kept one eye on the woman and one on the man groaning and trying to catch his breath on the floor.
“He won’t let us… leave. We’re here under his orders. We're paid well enough, but we’re contracted into service, and there’s no breaking it.”
“You’re slaves?”
“No, not really. But he’s a bit paranoid. He wants to know everything we’re doing, and when. We have reports to send every day, detailing every hour. And we’re not allowed to leave the island until the project is over.”
Julie took a deep breath. “And the project; what is it? Cutting people’s arms off?”
The woman seemed saddened. “It’s not — it’s not what you think. There are amazing things being done here. But we… we weren’t aware when we were recruited what exactly we’d be doing.”
Dr. Lindgren walked closer to Susan, gently squeezing her upper arm. “Susan, we’re here to help. You and the people you’re… working on.” She swallowed. “But we need to know exactly what it is Crawford is making you do.”
The woman nodded. She opened her mouth to speak, but there was a loud crash from behind them.
Julie turned and stared. Two guards were standing inside the anteroom, and one of them was banging the butt of a mean-looking submachine gun on the thick glass wall that led into the laboratory space. The other guard was working his ID card into the slot.
They must have locked everything down, Julie realized. After their Subshuttle ride and the security call from the other employees in the conference room, someone higher up must have locked down the entire facility.
“We’re out of time,” Sarah said. “Let’s go, Julie.”
Julie took one last look at the unconscious, breathing body of the woman on the metal table, her arm halfway removed from her torso, then at the woman standing scared nearby and the man trying to recover from Julie’s blow to his chest.
This is getting more interesting than I thought.
She turned and began running around the long, curved laboratory room. Sarah was right behind her the entire time, and surprisingly, the woman named Susan was as well.
33
“AT LEAST THEY COULD GET us something to sit on,” Reggie said, crouching with his back against the wall.
“Shut up, Reggie,” Ben responded. He was standing, leaning against the wall in the back corner of their makeshift jail cell. “This is your fault.”
They’d been sitting, standing, and pacing in the room for nearly an hour now, and neither of them had any idea what Garza’s plan was. They could hear nothing, see nothing, and nothing in the room gave them any clues.
“My fault?” Reggie said. He stood up. “I didn’t drag you here. I didn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to —”
“Yeah, well you may as well have. You didn’t have half a decent plan, and even then you didn’t think to share it with us? What, you thought you could walk in here and just kill him? Come on, you’re better than that.”
Reggie seethed, but he didn’t approach Ben. Ben waited for Reggie to move, to do something, but the man just stood there, empty and silent.
“You brought me and Julie into this, and now Dr. Lindgren is involved as well. Best of all, they’re somewhere out there, somewhere in the park, and the Ravenshadow guys are looking for them.”
“Maybe they’ll be able to get off, find a ride out or something.”
“Are you insane?” Ben said. “We’re on an island, Reggie. A man-made floating hotel. What are they going to do, wave down a fishing boat?”
“Stop,” Reggie said. “None of this is helping. The least we can do is put our heads together and figure out what we’re dealing with. Julie’s smart, she’ll be able to stay ahead of them.”
“Yeah,” Ben said, “if she knows they’re after her.” He started breathing heavier, trying not to think of his fiancée running blind, somewhere in a hostile environment in the middle of the ocean.
“She’ll figure it out. Dr. Lindgren’s got chops, as well. They’re not naive, and there’s no sense worrying about them. We figure out whatever we can here, and then we figure out how to get out.”
“What is there to figure out?” Ben asked.
“Like this place — Paradisum — it’s a theme park, but it’s also not. It’s clearly something else entirely, either as a cover up for the park, or the other way around.”
“You mean a place where they cut people’s arms off?”
“Well, yeah. But why? Why would Crawford put it all here, right on top of some ancient shipwreck and then build a luxurious hotel and fake beaches all over it? If he wanted to hide it, why attract attention?”
Ben shrugged. “Maybe he’s telling the truth — maybe it’s a research facility because he’s actually trying to build an ‘education-based theme park,’ or whatever he called it.”
Reggie shook his head. “It still doesn’t explain the creepy arm-farm downstairs. And we know Crawford’s a bad apple, anyway.”
“We do?”
“Remember when we met with him? He knew we’d be coming, asking for a meeting with The Hawk. He was prepared, because Garza told him about it. He even had it pre-scheduled.”
Ben thought about it for a moment and realized Reggie was absolutely right. “We walked into a trap. I knew it when we were in the cafeteria, but I didn’t really realize Crawford was part of it.”
“Right, but we know he is. He has to be. All of it — this place, the dinners, schmoozing us and the investors — it’s all a game. He’s playing us, but I don’t know why. The Hawk probably wants our heads on a platter, but Crawford shouldn’t care about us one way or another. He should be neutral, but he’s not. He’s doing exactly what The Hawk is telling him to do…”
“Which means Garza is the one calling the shots,” Ben said. He let out a breath of air and rubbed his forehead with a hand. This just got way worse.
“Which means we’re way out of our element here,” Reggie added. “And it didn’t just start with the meeting with Garza. It started the moment we set foot on Paradisum. From the moment we got here we’ve been playing in Garza’s game.”
Ben nodded. “I agree. But what game is it? Why the hell would he have us come all the way out here? Lure us out here in the middle of the ocean… for what?”
Reggie looked around the room, the makeshift cell they were in. “I don’t know. Seems a bit over the top, you know? If he wanted us dead, why not just kill us somewhere else? Why work with Crawford, agree to have us come all the way out here, and
spend all this money and attention on us? If it were me, I’d just have killed us on the cruise ship. Or back at the cabin. Much easier to hide the bodies there.”
Besides the macabre analogy, Ben knew Reggie was right about that, too. Crawford and The Hawk were working together on something, but it was impossible to know what it was. It was impossible to understand the men’s motive without having more information, but it was absolutely clear to Ben that Garza and Crawford were playing them. They’d lured the CSO team here, and now they just needed to figure out why.
And how to get out of this room.
“The girls are going to need help,” Ben said.
Reggie nodded. “They will, wherever they are. They’re probably walking into a trap right now as well.”
“So we need to get out of here.”
“You see any way of doing that?” Reggie asked. “No windows, one door — I’m guessing locked — and not even any ceiling tiles. Can’t do any Hollywood-style escapes with this.”
“Maybe we can get a guard to come over here, open the door. You know, trick him or something.”
“Trick him?” Reggie scoffed. “You realize we’re dealing with the best underground security force in the country, and probably one of the best in the world. Garza’s men run the gauntlet, literally, in order to get in. They’re not just going to waltz over here and open the door because we start yelling.”
“No, but maybe we —“
“No, Ben,” Reggie said, cutting him off. “We’re screwed. We’re at Garza’s mercy, and Crawford’s too. The only way we’re getting out of here is if —“
The door clicked, and started to swing open. Two armed guards appeared in the hallway, each holding one of the ubiquitous submachine guns Ben had come to recognize. The first man stood to the side, aiming his rifle in the space halfway between Ben and Reggie. One quick jerk to the left or right and we’re toast, Ben thought. This guy is trained well.
The second man looked at each of them in turn, focusing on neither. It was as if they were simply robots, not men. Prisoners, not humans. The man had no telling expression on his face, and Ben wondered if that was just how he looked or if he was playing a game. Continuing the ruse Garza had started back in the cafeteria.
“Move out,” the man said. His voice was gruff, hard. This man had seen some action, and Ben recognized the military all over his face and the way he held himself. And not just regular grunt-level work, either. This guy was special forces, hardened and molded over years of service and plenty of battles into the deceptively plain-looking soldier that stood before them.
“Where?” Reggie asked.
“Doesn’t matter, does it?” the man responded.
“Depends.”
“I can make you move, or you can do it yourself. I’d welcome either option.”
Reggie looked over at Ben, then shrugged. Ben got the point. This might be our chance.
“Fine,” Reggie said, taking the lead. “I’ll play.”
He walked out of the room and into the hallway, and Ben followed behind. Ben stopped when he realized the hallway wasn’t empty.
“Change of plan, boys,” The Hawk said, standing in the hallway, his wide stance nearly covering the space from left to right. “Crawford decided he’d like one more word with you.”
“What’s Crawford got to do with this?” Reggie asked. “You’re the one who wanted us here, right?”
Garza didn’t respond.
“You lured us here. You wanted us to come out, to see what this place was all about. You probably leaked the fact that it was Ravenshadow’s new contract, made sure it was seen by our benefactor so he’d send us down here to check it out.”
Again, Garza just stared, silent. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, waiting. After another moment of silence on both sides, he grinned. “Crawford has more to do with this than you might think, boys. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I am certainly excited you’re here, as I feel there was some unfinished business back in Philly. I plan to make good on my promise to you, but I also have a boss. Crawford’s in charge for now, so I’d suggest we all just play nice.”
Reggie set his gaze straight ahead, and Ben simply watched on, trying to piece things together.
It didn’t work. He was just as confused as he had been inside in the room.
Garza turns and began walking away, and Ben felt the nose of the small weapon in the guard’s hand on his back. He started forward, following behind The Hawk as he walked on into the main security chambers, a few men looking up from desks as they passed. He exited the room into the antechamber, and Ben saw the first person they’d seen at the desk on his right, his head buried in his computer as they passed.
The Hawk led them out into the hall, almost exactly the reverse of the path they’d taken to get here. They headed toward the elevators, moving quickly. Apparently Crawford was impatient, or The Hawk was just trying to make up for lost time.
Ben was still confused, but he was confident about one thing:
If they were going to try anything, this was their chance.
34
THE WOMAN, SUSAN, PROVED TO be a valuable asset even after only a few minutes. They were running through the large, curving laboratory that followed the structure of the ring they were in, but they were running blind. Susan took the lead after a minute of jogging through rooms separated by glass doors and identification checkpoints, and Julie was immediately happy that she had decided to come along.
She had questions, but they could wait. Susan was quick with her ID card, clearing them into each section the deeper into the laboratory they got. Dr. Lindgren and Susan ran ahead of Julie, who decided to keep an eye out over her shoulder for any of the guards she knew were heading their way.
They didn’t have much time, and — worst of all — they had no plan. Without getting Susan safely into a locked room, Julie didn’t want to risk stopping to talk. Her questions and the woman’s answered would have to wait. They needed to stay ahead of the guards, and they really needed to find Dr. Lin.
If anyone knew what was going on, it was the man she’d met in the hotel last night. Dr. Lin may have been frantic and difficult to communicate with, but she doubted that was his nature. Something had seriously spooked him, and it had been a big enough deal that he’d wanted to share it with the outside world, not the fellow scientists and researchers he had been working with.
Susan turned left into the next room, an odd choice of direction considering that the ring and sub level they were in was curving around to the right.
“You know where you’re going?” Sarah asked.
Susan nodded, swiping her ID card on the front of the door without slowing down. She waited the two seconds for the green light to appear, then she pushed the handle down and threw the door open.
Dr. Lin was inside, sitting in the corner. The room was a closet, nothing but three walls of shelves with laboratory equipment, cleaning materials, and old computer monitors gathering dust. The shelves extended out more than a foot into the room on all three sides, leaving little room in front of them for anything other than a single chair.
But there was a single chair in the room, and on that chair sat Dr. Joseph Lin. His black hair, previously parted on the side and combed perfectly, with a bit of mousse to hold everything together, hovering over the rest of his head, was now disheveled. It looked as though he had run his hands through it over and over again until the hair was so badly messed up the man was nearly unrecognizable.
“Dr. Lin?” Julie asked. Susan had opened the door and held it, standing like a sentinel outside in the main room as Julie and Dr. Lindgren fell upon the man in the chair.
The man nodded. He sniffed, looking up at each of them. He didn’t speak.
“Are — are you okay?” Julie asked.
He stared. His eyes were empty, devoid of emotion, but Julie thought she could see a slight shake to the man’s hand. He was resting the hand on one of the shelves next to him, while his other sat
in his lap.
“Dr. Lin,” Sarah said, “we came here to find you. I’m Dr. Sarah Lindgren, and this is Juliette Richardson. We’re with the CSO, and we — we saw the pictures on your phone, and we —“
“So you know,” he whispered. “You know now.” It was a question, just a hint of raised inflection. He wasn’t sure what they knew.
“No,” Julie said. “That’s why we came. We don’t know. What is this all about? Dr. Lin, if you could just —“
“She knows,” he said. He pointed a long, scraggly finger at Susan. Julie hadn’t noticed how gaunt the man seemed before. Or he had somehow lost a good portion of his body weight in a day.
Julie and Sarah turned and looked at Susan. Julie waited, raising an eyebrow.
“I — I’m not sure what he’s talking about,” Susan said. “I’m here with them, Dr. Lin. I came to help them, to try and figure this —“
“You know they took your sister,” Dr. Lin said. “Elizabeth. She’s gone. Removed.”
Susan shook her head. “You don’t know that. She told me she was going to be reassigned, that they’d be taking her —“
“Susan,” Dr. Lin said. His eyes were bloodshot, pleading. The mask of emotionless nothingness had lifted and Julie saw in the man’s face the look of someone who knew something was going to happen to them, and that something wasn’t going to be good. He was resigned to his fate. “Susan, you know the truth. You have to know. The signs have all been here from the beginning. From your recruitment — do you remember that?”
Julie watched Susan’s face. The woman was middle-aged, probably nearing her mid-fifties judging by the creases surrounding her eyes and the way she carried herself. To her credit, however, she looked far younger than that, and Julie knew she could pass for mid-thirties with a good stylist on her team. Her blond hair was pulled back tightly into a bun, and she wore wire-rimmed glasses on the tip of her nose. She was short, shorter than Julie, and a bit stocky. The way she looked down at Dr. Lin, though, told Julie everything.
