“Who’s the most senior officer?” Trey asked.
“Believe it or not, Jon is.” Krysta motioned toward their reluctant companion. “He’s one of Hydran’s elite. Or at least he was. Odd that he wasn’t included in the relocation.”
A full scan of Jon’s body admitted them to the high security building between wards C and D. Krysta felt her heart gallop. She’d never been in this part of the Center before. Soon she’d see Saebin again, know that her friend was safe and well.
“The general doesn’t like me,” Jon admitted as they made their way along the gleaming, white corridor. “I’m sure he told Dr. Hydran not to include me. Eleven years of faithful service and this is the thanks I get.”
“Do you know the general’s real name?” Krysta clenched her fists. His petulance was eroding her calm. “Do you know what he’s ‘the general’ of?”
“He retired from the Intercontinental Army. I haven’t a clue who or what he’s affiliated with now. I’ve never heard him called anything other than the general.”
“Do you have a clear image of this man in your mind?” Krysta asked.
“Not really. I’ve seen him from a distance, but he avoids everyone but Hydran. Why?”
“I’m going to touch your forehead.”
“Why? What are you going to do?” His eyes rounded and his nostrils flared.
Trey aimed the pistol at his chest. “Just hold still.”
Fighting back a smile, Krysta took far longer than necessary to absorb the image. If she knew how to cause mental discomfort, she’d have made it sting like hell. Fear dilated his pupils and made his chin quiver. It was almost enough.
She moved her hand back and his breath hiss out. “Are you done?”
“For now.” All she’d been able to retrieve was a shadowy impression.
They reached the control center.
“All right.” Trey stepped up behind Jon and pressed the gun to the center of his back. “Krysta, stay out of sight. Now, you, open the privacy panel.”
She stayed well back from the threshold as Jon scanned open the door. Two short bursts from Trey’s weapon almost immediately followed Jon’s muttered greeting, and then Trey motioned her inside. Trey held the gun on Jon while he dragged the unconscious men off to one side of the small room.
Slipping in behind the wide control panel, Jon went to work. Trey stood in back of him, an ever-present reminder to stay on task. Jon used a silent alarm to order the staff from the premises. Stunned and horrified, Krysta watched, on multiple vidscreens, as the staff quickly ended their tasks and filed from the building like lemmings.
“Why do they think they’re leaving?” She was almost afraid to ask. “What was this system designed for?”
“Fire. An explosion in one of the labs.” Jon’s fingers worked the control console.
“And the occupants? We’d just be left inside to die?”
He didn’t respond. They both knew the answer. Hydran has no power over me. She kept silently repeating the phrase, drawing strength from the simple truth. Hydran was out of her life. The rest was logistics!
“Okay.” Jon looked up from the controls. “I’ll take the last four guards out with me. All you have to do is turn it off. I’ve deactivated all scanner and code protocols. As soon as you flip the switch most everything will become simple motion sensors.” He looked from Trey to Krysta, his gaze inscrutable. “Do you realize what you’re getting yourself into? Ward D hasn’t been unlocked in years.”
“Wait,” Krysta cried. “Stasis chambers. Where is Belle?”
“If he’s got someone in stasis, they’re in ward D. All the interesting technology is there.” He paused, his dark gaze searching her face. “If I take the grid down, how are you going to control them? Their implants share a power source with the grid.”
Krysta looked away. He obviously knew more about ward D than they did.
“You’re being suspiciously helpful all of a sudden,” Trey pointed out.
“I’m just showing Dr. Hydran the same loyalty he showed me. You said my cooperation would be taken into consideration, so I’m cooperating.”
“Well, Krysta. What do you think of his sudden change of heart?” Trey was obviously unwilling to leave him alone in the control room. “Shall we exploit his knowledge to our mutual advantage?”
“I don’t see that we have any choice. But I don’t trust him. I want the rest of Hydran’s people out and I want someone with him at all times.”
“Agreed.”
“I don’t expect you to trust me. I don’t care if you trust me,” Jon’s voice wavered, “but I have a wife and two children. I can’t go to a penal colony; it would kill them.”
He should have stuck with straight bartering. Krysta respected the clean concept of something for something. But she felt no pity for this lecherous bastard. “You should have thought about your family when you offered yourself for eleven years of faithful service to a man like Dr. Hydran.”
“You said implants,” Trey reminded him. “What did you mean?”
“Dr. Hydran and the general have been experimenting with an implant that amplifies each person’s abilities. Problem is without power, without a continual signal to the implant, the person becomes very... unpredictable, violent even.”
“And you think this will happen if we bring the grid down?” Krysta rubbed at the tension rapidly building at the nape of her neck. She didn’t want to think of Saebin connected with ward D, didn’t want to consider that her sweet-tempered friend had been given one of these implants.
“I know it will,” Jon said. “It’s just a matter of how you deal with it when it does.”
“What are the options?” She moved until the wall was at her back, supporting her. Each word he spoke felt like marble-size hail pelting her body.
“Evacuate wards A through C before you drop the grid. You can utilize the lobby and the employee access doors with the grid intact.”
Krysta cleared her throat before she spoke, making sure her voice sounded strong and steady. “Can Commander Barrel send someone down for these two or should we move them to the treatment chamber where Dro Tar has the others?”
Trey nudged one with the toe of his boot and shrugged. “There’re out pretty good. It would probably be easier to have Lyrik send someone to carry them. We’ll hold all four in the brig on the Tempest until the evacuation is complete.”
Opening his audiocom, Trey contacted the Tempest, instructing Gerr to transport as many armed crewmembers as he could manage to the shuttle lot beyond the dome.
“How secure is the treatment chamber?” Trey switched back to Earthish.
“The guards can’t get out, if that’s what you’re asking. Why?” Krysta responded curiously.
“I need Dro Tar to open the front door.”
He switched channels on the audiocom and paused. It was Dro Tar’s voice, but her words sounded like gibberish.
“Knock, knock,” Dro Tar was saying.
“Who’s there,” two male voices grumbled in unison.
“Midas,” Dro Tar prompted cheerfully.
“Midas who?”
“Midas well relax, you’re gonna be here awhile.”
She laughed so loudly that Trey had to pull his audiocom away from his ear. “Dro Tar, report.”
“What can I do for you, Commander?”
“Your guards have been given an official reprieve from your humor.”
“Oh, how tragic.” She treated him to a musical laugh. “I was just getting warmed up.”
“Go to the lobby and open the door for Lyrik’s crewmembers.”
“All of them?”
Trey just rolled his eyes. “After you show your guests their new escort, report here to me.”
“Will do. Dro Tar out.”
He turned to Krysta and brought her hand to his lips. They were icy. “Are you up for this?”
“I’ve waited for this my entire life.” She sounded sure, but her smile seemed manufactured.
“Then, see if you can get details about ward D: How many? What sort of implants? How are they controlled when the grid is working? Are the children still there? Why did Hydran take them there in the first place? We need to know what we’ll be facing.”
“I understand.”
“And you can do it? Without rearranging his features? I know there’s no love lost between you and Jon, but he’s our best source of information right now.”
“He’s our only source of information right now.”
Chapter Twenty
Memories. Everywhere Krysta looked, something triggered an unexpected memory. She wandered through the commons of ward B, dragging her fingertips along the tabletops as crewmembers from the Tempest conducted a room-by-room inspection to prevent anyone from being left behind. She’d follow them out, and ward B would be officially evacuated.
“It’s the only home you’ve ever known,” Bekka said softly, drawing her attention. “The sadness shouldn’t surprise you.”
Krysta took Bekka’s fragile hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’ve been angry so long. I never thought I’d miss this place.”
Bekka smiled, patting Krysta’s cheek. “You’re taking the best parts of this place with you.”
“Yes, I am.” Releasing Bekka’s hand, Krysta looked to see how much farther the inspectors had to go. “Why aren’t you on the Tempest with the others?”
“Joleen asked me to speak with you. She told me she felt a surge in Saebin’s signal right after that odd man was discovered, and then nothing.”
Restlessly combing her fingers through her hair, Krysta glanced at Bekka and then away. What did they expect her to do that wasn’t being done already? “The entire Center is going to be evacuated. That means Saebin and Belle and all the others.”
“That wasn’t Joleen’s purpose for sending me. She wanted me to warn you.”
“About what?”
“About Saebin. Joleen wanted you to know that Saebin has changed, that the person she contacted telepathically is significantly different from the Saebin we know and love. Just be prepared.”
Krysta nodded, but her mind rebelled against the possibility of another casualty. Hydran had taken too much from her already. He had taken too much from all of them.
“We’ll find her.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “And we’ll find Belle. Now tell me about the strange man. How was he discovered? Who discovered him?”
The older woman made a bland gesture with her hand. “I never saw him. All I know is his discovery caused quite an uproar with Hydran’s people.”
Dro Tar sauntered toward them. She had discarded the jacket of her uniform, revealing a black tee shirt with bright red lips. Vampire fangs exposed within the lips complete with drops of blood spelling out the words: bite me.
“They’re ready for ward C,” Dro Tar said. “Everyone’s getting restless.”
Amused by Bekka’s startled expression, Krysta casually introduced them. “Dro Tar this is Bekka; Bekka, Dro Tar. If you’ll be kind enough to escort Bekka to the lobby, I’ll go to the control center so the inspectors can give the all clear.”
“Okey dokey.” Dro Tar offered a bawdy wink. “Nice to meet you, Bekka.”
“Likewise.” Bekka found her voice as they headed for the door. “Are all newcomers so... ostentatious?”
Dro Tar laughed. “No, my dear, I like to think I’m one of a kind, even on Ontariese.”
In the courtyard, Krysta stopped and looked back at the North side of the Center. It was empty now, free. Never again would an Ontarian submit to Hydran’s tyranny.
Take that, you vile bastard!
“I hate to rain on your parade, Krys,” Dro Tar patted her shoulder, “but this glass is still half full.”
“Ward C is just a matter of time, but we’ve got our work cut out for us with ward D.”
“So what did that weasel have to say?”
Krysta glanced at Dro Tar. “Which weasel might that be?”
“Well, I certainly didn’t mean Trey, and I don’t know any of Commander Barrel’s crewmembers personally -- yet -- so I must have meant Commandant Fartfignewtons.”
Krysta burst out laughing. “Fart-Fig-Newtons? That doesn’t sound very comfortable.” Hydran had only ever called him Jon.
“Well it’s something more like Farfiggnutines, but either way, I can’t pronounce half these Earthish names.” She shrugged, her smile completely unapologetic. “What did you learn from Jon?”
“There are a total of forty-eight occupants in ward D, twelve of whom have implants. The children are still there, as far as he knows, and he drew a basic layout of the ward. Each of the twelve shares a cell, pardon me, quarters, with a training partner. These six units are separated from the rest of the ward by a forcefield, which operates off the same energy source as the security grid.”
“Piff.” She waved her hand, disregarding the information. “Nothing I hadn’t already learned. Why do men continually underestimate my resourcefulness? Even Trey. He should know better by now. Brett told me all of that and more. Do you know Brett?”
“I’ve only known her name for a few days, but she’s been dragging me from place to place for years.”
Dro Tar’s swirling hazel gaze touched her face. “She doesn’t seem like the bad sort, and she sure likes to talk once you buy her a beer.”
Krysta chuckled. “I wouldn’t know. The orderlies aren’t allowed to talk to the occupants, much less socialize.”
“Weren’t allowed, dear heart, weren’t allowed.” Dro Tar grinned. “I’d already located Operation Hydra’s fount of information, why do we need Jon?”
“Because, unlike Brett, Mr. Fart-Fig-Newtons has Red clearance. He was able to get us into the high security areas. Secretaries may run offices, but executives still have the keys.”
“Point, set, and match. Okay, so we need the little weasel, at least for now.”
“Where is Trey?”
“You mean Commander dar Aune, don’t you?” Dro Tar corrected playfully.
“You called him Trey just a few --”
“Chill, I was teasing. Your social alliance is clear to everyone.”
“I’m sorry. This isn’t easy for me. I’d foreseen this day transpiring far differently than it has.”
“All dressed up and no ass to kick?”
Krysta indulged in one deep, cleansing laugh before she focused entirely on what remained to be done. “You still didn’t answer my question.”
“He’s in the control center. Isn’t that why you were headed there?” Dro Tar hesitated a second before adding, “He’s with the weasel and Lord Drakkin.”
“Lord Drakkin? No Mystic is going to be any good to us until the grid comes down.”
They started across the grassy courtyard toward the southern end of the complex. “I wouldn’t let Lord Drakkin hear you say that. You forget he’s also the director of the Symposium.”
Dro Tar scanned open the door for Krysta. “Meaning?”
“Meaning Lord Drakkin doesn’t need Mystic abilities to be imposing.”
Krysta paused. “Are you intimidated by Lord Drakkin?”
“I’m not intimidated by anyone.” She flashed her carefree smile. “I’m just glad we’re on the same side. Vee is amazing, and Drakkin is Vee’s mentor. You do the math.”
Dro Tar left her inside the treatment wing, situated between wards C and D. Krysta’s mind churned with questions and uncertainties. Leaving this place was only the beginning. What happened next? Where would they go? They knew nothing of life beyond the dome. They knew nothing of life. Period. She’d been so focused on liberating the Center that the future had never entered the equation.
As she approached the control center, the door slid open and Drakkin’s red-ringed dark gaze locked with hers.
“Stop doing that,” Jon snapped. “Every time you use your power it causes erratic fluctuations in the entire grid.”
Drakkin ignored the warning and met Krysta at the door.
“Did you transport in through the grid?” She was beginning to understand Dro Tar’s awe.
He smiled innocently. “I walked in through the front door. Commandant Fartfignuts --”
“My name is Farfiknutins.” Jon swiveled in his chair, his legs bumping into Drakkin’s. “If you can’t manage the pronunciation...”
A mysterious coughing fit cut off the rest of his suggestion.
Trey anxiously raked his fingers through his hair. “He’s right, Lord Drakkin. The grid fluctuates when you access your Mystic energy.”
“Can the human not be held somewhere else?” Drakkin’s eyes dimmed and the coughing abated. “He offends me.”
Krysta reached out with her mind, wondering if he would be able to hear her thoughts, as the other occupants could hear her thoughts.
Speak. His richly accented voice responded to her lightest call.
Jon is an ass, but we need him right now. I can’t sense anything other than Belle’s lifeforce. Are you able to feel Vee? Is he well? Is he conscious?
All I sense is static.
“We have the all clear from ward C,” Jon announced.
“Show time,” Trey muttered.
Krysta met his gaze. “What’s the plan?”
“We’re going to evacuate the last ward as we did the other three. We’ll simple deal with any complications as they arise.”
“You haven’t been able to communicate with anyone inside ward D. They have no idea what’s going on,” Krysta objected.
“Won’t they feel it when the grid goes down?” Jon asked.
Krysta rested her hand lightly on Trey’s shoulder. “Yeah, and they’ll go nuts. Let me try and reach someone on the inside, before you drop the grid.”
“You think of this now?” Jon challenged. “What have you been doing for the last two hours?”
No one objected when Jon’s coughing fit resumed. Ignoring the man gasping for breath beside him, Trey stood and faced Krysta. “Do you know anyone inside ward D?”
“Saebin. Belle’s been unresponsive. I’ve tried her several times already.”
She managed to conceal the pain from her calm tone, but unshed tears gleamed in her wide purple eyes. So brave. She always tried to be so brave. Trey smiled and pulled her into his arms.
Ontarian Chronicles 2: Operation Hydra Page 18
