“Please, sit,” the man said, nodding towards one of the small armchairs in front of the desk.
The guard nudged Malcolm and he walked over to sit down. The chair was low and Malcolm’s knees bent up at a sharp angle. So the man knew something about negotiation. He put people down low, forcing them to look up at him.
Smart, but the advantage was cancelled out by the amateur move with that giant chair. He was stupid enough to believe that having a bigger chair would make him seem larger when it actually did the opposite.
Malcolm took the time to glance around the apartment. The living room was big, a leather couch pushed to the side and still leaving plenty of room for the desk in the centre.
Plush rugs covered the laminate floor and thick curtains were hung on the windows that were behind the desk. They were drawn open, the rising sun bright enough to give him a view of another apartment building. So this was an apartment complex with at least two towers. Good to know.
Modern art paintings hung on the walls, bright bold colours that didn’t go with the thick oak desk and the Oriental rugs. No, this man didn’t have any real appreciation for art. What he had was a love for power, even if it was artificial. He had filled this place with things he thought men of power had.
Fancy art, a desk that looked like it belonged to one of the Rockefeller's, rugs and drapes that belonged in the drawing room of a manor house. All of it artificial and all of it a window into the man who sat in front of him.
“I apologize for meeting with you under these...” The man glanced at the chains around his ankles, “Circumstances. However you must understand that we can’t be too careful when it comes to strangers.”
The man smiled, flashing a set of straight teeth at him. “My name is Jacob Blanchard and this place is known as the Complex.”
“What do you want from us?” Malcolm asked, cutting right to the chase. It might put the man off his game to be met with aggression.
Jacob tilted his head, his big eyes blinking slowly as he studied Malcolm for a moment before leaning over to open a drawer in the desk. He pulled out a familiar leather wallet and flipped it open to show Malcolm his CIA ID badge.
“I didn’t believe it when my men first told me that they had taken a CIA agent,” Jacob said. “You see, my men are good at what they do but I didn’t think they were that good. Not until I saw this.”
“Well, like it says, I’m retired so I suppose I’m a bit rusty,” Malcolm replied.
“Maybe you were just a bit too focused on getting the drugs in your packs. Is someone sick?”
“No,” Malcolm lied easily, “Just found that drugs seem to be the most welcome currency now.”
“That’s true. Though in my experience, the most sought after drugs are the opiates. Morphine, Oxy and the like. You had quite a lot of heavy duty antibiotics, which is unusual.”
“You think people won’t need those? Painkillers might ease you but antibiotics heal you. People want to live.”
Jacob steepled his fingers again and leaned forward on the desk. “Fair enough. Where were you planning on trading the medicine?”
Malcolm shrugged his shoulders. “Didn’t have a particular place in mind. We saw the hospital and took advantage of it. Best to gather what you can, when you can these days.”
He could tell that wasn’t the answer Jacob was looking for but Malcolm wasn’t about to make this easy for him.
Jacob turned his ID badge back around to face him. “It says here that you worked in Virginia. You seem to be far away now.”
“I am.”
“So what brought you this far north?”
“A sister,” Malcolm replied. “She lives in Traverse City.”
Jacob eyed him, weighing the truth of his words and then he snapped the wallet shut. “I hate to be the one to tell you but Traverse City was overrun not long after this all started. If your sister survived, she’s far away from there.”
“I appreciate the information but I’m afraid I won’t believe it until I see it with my own eyes.”
Jacob had that wide eyed stare going on again but then he gave a sharp nod of his head. “So, you are a retired CIA agent traveling to find his sister. And what about the others with you? Are they looking for your sister too?”
“Nas is,” Malcolm said. “The dark skinned man. We’re good friends. He’s been with me since the start.”
It was the badge that had interested this man. If he knew he had another agent on his hands, perhaps things would sway in their favour.
“I was his mentor at the agency. The other two we met on the road. We all got pinned down by freaks and fought our way out together. Made an agreement to watch each other's backs.”
“You must all be competent if you’ve made it this far.”
“You must be too.” Malcolm said. “You have quite an operation here.”
Jacob looked up sharply, his eyes narrowing as he clenched his hand into a fist. “How would you know that? You were blindfolded when you were brought in.”
“I know because your men were well armed and smart enough to get the jump on me. All of you here are clean and well fed. You also have the time and resources to take people prisoner.”
Jacob’s fist relaxed and he pushed back his chair, the trace of a smile on his lips as he stood up. “Come with me.”
Jacob walked over to the sliding glass door that led to the balcony and Malcolm followed him, the chains clinking around his ankles. Jacob slid the door open and gestured for Malcolm to walk out onto the balcony.
He moved to the railing cautiously, keeping Jacob in the corner of his eye in case he got it in his head to try and push him over the edge. The daylight creeping over the horizon revealed a courtyard that lay between this building and the other one.
There were several large pavilion tents set up in the centre of it. Stone pathways snaked through the courtyard, joining it to the paved lot where there were trucks parked, as well as a large flatbed trailer that held several large water cisterns.
A tall brick wall circled the whole thing and the original entrance had been secured with a gate of steel panels. Barbed wire was stretched across the top of the walls as well as wooden stakes. Platforms like the ones they had built on the island were perched on the corners of the wall and next to the gate and Malcolm could see the armed men who occupied them.
“You were right,” Jacob said as he stepped up to the railing to look over. “We do have quite an operation here. We’ve been working on it since this all began. I lived here before. When things fell apart, myself and some of the other residents stayed. What reason was there for us to leave? We had walls, windows facing all directions and high enough that we can see anyone approaching from blocks away. It’s the perfect defensive position.”
Despite being his prisoner, Malcolm had to admit the man was right. It was a perfect defensive position. Which also meant it would be a bitch to get out of here without being spotted.
“We barricaded the driveway and built the lookouts on the wall. We stocked up on supplies and while we were out we came across other survivors and brought them in.” Jacob grinned at him, showing a line of straight white teeth. “Now there are eighty-six of us. Everyone is given a task based on their skills. There is no nepotism here, no strings to pull or backs to scratch to get ahead. Everyone earns their place by being good at what they do. We share everything and it works.”
“Well, I’m glad for all y’all,” Malcolm said, “But I’ve got to get to Traverse City. So why don’t we talk about how me and my friends can arrange to be on our way?”
“Why would you want to be on your way?” Jacob asked, his eyebrows touching the rims of his glasses as he frowned. “It’s safe here. We have strong walls and men to watch them. We have generators and fuel to run them, food and water.”
“Like I said, I’ve gotta see for myself that my sister is gone.”
His frown deepened, lines appearing around the corners of his mouth. “Very well, but if you intend to
leave here with your weapons, you will have to earn them back.”
“How do we earn them back?”
“I need you to use your talents. Everyone knows about the CIA’s interrogation techniques. I have a man I need you to interrogate. He has information I want and you will get it for me. When you do, I will let you go.”
Well alright, this was some progress. Negotiating a trade would be the best way to get this done.
But he also needed Jacob to respect him and that meant not rolling over so easily.
“If I do this, we get to leave with half the meds we took from the hospital,” Malcolm said. “We took the risk of going in there to get them.”
“And you killed one of my men to do it,” Jacob pointed out, his voice cold now. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that.”
“He tried to kill me first,” Malcolm said. “I was only defending myself. Your boys are good, they had us cornered before we even knew it. The only tip off was that dumbass trying to be the hero, jumping right into the crossfire. If things went different, he could have gotten all your boys killed. I’m thinking I’ve done you a favour.”
Malcolm kept his gaze steady on Jacob, knowing that the man preferred to have men cower for him. His thirst for authority was obvious. Malcolm didn’t need to know the details of Jacob’s life to know what it had been like. At best he was middle management, someone with the illusion of power. Likely single, few family connections or friends, a life spent going through the motions of day to day life. He was unremarkably average in all ways.
Malcolm had seen the envy in Jacob’s eyes when he had looked at his badge. Even a retired CIA agent had more power than he did. If Malcolm cowed to him, any respect that badge gave him in Jacob’s eyes would be gone.
“Very well,” Jacob conceded. “I will give you your weapons, half the meds and safe passage out of town. Provided that you are able to give me what I want.”
This had gone better than he’d expected when he’d first come in here. He knew that they had wanted something from them, he just wished it was something he could guarantee he could deliver. He was experienced enough in interrogation to know that it didn’t always produce results. If they didn’t deliver what Jacob wanted, what happened to them?
Then again, there was no guarantee that Jacob had any intention of honoring the deal even if he came through.
He’d worry about that later. Right now this was their best chance at getting out. It was their only chance really.
“And what about my friends?”
“They’ll stay in their cell.”
“Not Nas,” Malcolm said. “He was an agent like me. You wanted an interrogator and now you’ve got two. We can work twice as fast.”
Jacob eyed him and he knew he was trying to figure out if this was a trick. If he refused, Malcolm wouldn’t be any worse for asking. If he agreed, that gave him one more person out of the cell.
“And we could all use some food and water,” Malcolm added, deciding to push his luck and see how it played out.
“You don’t ask for much do you?” Jacob said in that cold tone of his. He turned back to stare out at the courtyard. A king looking over his kingdom. “As I said, we share everything and you have to work to earn your share. I have no problem feeding you if you will help. As for your friends, they will have to work if they want to use our resources.”
“What sort of work?”
Jacob gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “Nothing nefarious. Many of the apartments were abandoned by their original residents. We had already cleaned them out of anything useful but now we are removing the furniture and personal effects. Your group looks like they’ve got strong backs.”
It was the best Malcolm could hope for in their position. At least it would get them out of that cell and give them a chance to get the lay of this place. If things soured with the deal, it would give them an advantage for an escape attempt.
“Alright, we’ll stick to the deal,” Malcolm said, offering his hand to Jacob to shake. Jacob squeezed hard when he shook his hand, an obvious attempt at intimidation and smiled.
“Let’s get your friends and get to work.”
Subject File #760
Subject: I’m an idiot.
Administrator: Why do you think that?
Subject: I was stupid enough to think the deal would work. I went along with it, naive enough to think it would go down like it did in Port Meyer. I’m never going to make that mistake again.
Travis groaned as he stretched his arms over his head, still trying to ease the ache that had set in there after being hogtied in the back of the truck. Bouncing around in the flatbed hadn’t been good for his just healed arm and he was now paying the price. It didn’t help that he couldn’t find any way to get comfortable in this concrete box.
Veronica moaned next to him and he felt her body spasm, her leg kicking out against his own. Another nightmare.
“Veronica, wake up,” he said, shaking her shoulder. She gasped and tensed up next to him, arms flailing out as if to fight off an attacker. “Veronica calm down, we’re in the cell.”
He knew exactly how she felt. He’d managed to fall asleep at some point and when he jolted awake in the pitch black cell, he’d begun to panic, not realizing where he was. It had taken a moment for his sleep addled brain to hear the others reminding him where he was now.
“Sorry,” she said, relaxing next to him.
“Bad dream?” Nas asked from the other side of Veronica.
“Yeah, bad dream,” she replied. “Good thing I woke up here, huh?”
Yeah, the nightmares did seem preferable to finding out they were still stuck in this hellhole.
“How long was I out?” she asked.
Travis checked the glowing face of his watch. “About thirty minutes.”
“And Malcolm’s still not back.”
It was a statement, not a question, and a heavy statement at that. The longer Malcolm was gone, the more likely it was that something bad had happened to him.
Travis knew that Malcolm was right about these guys wanting something from them. It would have been easier to drop them back at the hospital if that was their intention. But if Malcolm couldn’t deliver whatever it is they wanted, then they were in big trouble.
“What are we going to do?” Veronica said, her voice quiet, almost child-like. “Without the meds...”
Travis reached out and found her hand. “Hey, don’t think like that. They’ll be fine, no matter what happens here. You know that Jackson and the others aren’t going to stop until they find the right medicine. It’s nearly sun up, they probably got the meds back there hours ago. I bet Hannah and the others are already feeling better.”
“You’re right,” she said.
He hoped he was. The last thing they needed when they got out of this hellhole was to find out their people succumbed to the illness while they were trapped.
He was probably putting the cart in front of the horse on that one. There was still the matter of getting out of the hellhole first.
His stomach let out a low rumble that was loud enough for the others to hear. He wished he had thought to eat one of the MREs from his pack when he’d had the chance. At least the hunger pangs were something to distract from the ache in his arm.
“You’d think they’d at least give us water,” Travis said. “It’d help with the hunger.”
“Why waste supplies on us?” Veronica said.
“Don’t go down that road,” Nas said. “They have a reason for keeping us here. That means we’ve got leverage. Malcolm knows that. He’ll be working on it.”
“And what if the leverage is wanting to know where we came from?” she asked. “They could be interrogating him right now, trying to learn where our camp is.”
“He’ll stick to the story, no matter what has been done to him,” Nas said. “We just have to be ready to do the same. No matter what happens, they can’t know where we came from.”
Well, didn’t that paint a wonderful p
icture? Travis tried to let it go but the apprehension flowed through him at the thought of an interrogation. The last time he’d been questioned about his group, he’d given up everything he knew with ease.
Of course, that time he was concussed and had a broken arm, cracked rib and blood loss. Hopefully being in better shape, he’d be able to keep the group’s secrets.
Travis jumped when someone pounded on the door and ordered them to stay back against the wall.
Well, looked like he’d find out what he was made of sooner rather than later.
They waited in silence as the door was unlocked and opened. Malcolm appeared in the doorway, a man beside him. He was short, only reaching Malcolm’s shoulders, his thick glasses reflecting the light of the lantern that he held up.
“This is Jacob,” Malcolm said, nodding at the man beside him. “He’s in charge here. This is Nas, Travis and Veronica.”
“It’s nice to meet you all,” Jacob said, giving them a tiny bow. “I want to apologize for any rough treatment you might have experienced here. I know the accommodations aren’t anything to write home about but we can only do so much with the resources we have. I hope you understand that this was nothing personal. We can’t be too careful nowadays when it comes to strangers.”
Jacob held his arms out wide, none of the gestures natural. It was like he had practiced them in the mirror.
“But now we aren’t strangers anymore. I’ve been talking with your friend here and we’ve worked out a bit of a trade. You provide us with some necessary labour and we will provide you with freedom.”
Travis looked to Malcolm, wanting some guidance. “Jacob needs our help. In exchange, he’ll return our things and we can go.”
“Now, I have a special project for Malcolm and Nas,” Jacob said. “Travis and Veronica, you will be joining our cleanup crew. The good news is that we’ll feed you before you start work. Now, how does that sound to you?”
The Complex (The Omega Protocol Chronicles Book 3) Page 34
