These two women had a specific job to do. They were most likely associated with the original rapid-strike enforcers I’d escaped at the ocean base, and the precariousness of my current situation became horribly clear.
The next few minutes would be crucial. I could not afford to make a single mistake.
I needed them to believe that I was secretly one of their group. It was my only option. If I failed, they would simply drop me into the sea, kilometers from shore.
I didn’t ask about Flick. Someone aligned with these women would not have cared about the fate of a rogue Grey and I remained silent for the rest of the flight.
We landed after a quarter of an hour and I realized I’d probably been unconscious for only a short period of time, considering how close we were to land.
As we touched down, Bee stood up and waited for me to reach for the hatch handle, but I didn’t move.
The woman in charge didn’t open doors, assistants did that, and Canda glared as Bee hastened to do it.
Bee pulled a yellow handle and a mechanical whine filled the compartment. As the side ramp lowered, sunlight burst in and I stifled my sense of relief that it had not yet become dark.
Two hours after sunset and I would fall unconscious and not wake up again for another 11 or 12 hours, and having some confidence that I would not be murdered in my sleep was my next goal.
I strode outside first, not waiting for Canda to rise from her seat.
Bee bobbed along beside me with mincing steps. “Nasha, um, she isn’t back yet.”
I halted and turned on her. “Well, where is she then?”
Apologetic/apprehensive. “Uh, she’s still in that meeting with the new recruits. We have to wait for her.”
“For how long?” I demanded.
“As long as it takes,” Canda said, stopping beside me with a sour smile. “Nasha doesn’t wait for anyone. Other people wait for her.”
With that, she walked ahead.
I followed her.
The enforcement officer, who had also been our pilot, trailed behind me with a smoker drawn and, no doubt, pointed at the back of my head.
I realized then that I’d seen this man before. He’d had his back to me at the time, but he was undoubtedly one of the rapid-strike squad members who had pursued me on the NARPA base.
He did not seem to understand exactly who I was and merely performed the least of what was required to do his job. His general disregard of the women suggested that he considered them an annoyance more than superiors, and his body language indicated he was only interested in me as far as his orders dictated.
We crossed a huge expanse of perfectly flat steelfoam painted with multiple yellow circles and surrounded with dozens of raised light rods along the outside edge.
This was a landing tarmac. The largest one I had yet seen.
The tarmac was so enormous it took me a moment to realize where it was. It sat on top of a small island.
Water surrounded the island, but only a few hundred meters away, the mainland was easily visible.
I recognized the vegetation and felt a small measure of relief. We were somewhere outside of New Dublin. A quick glance at the horizon told me the city was nowhere close by, but at least I was still somewhat in the vicinity. I could see the same sort of jungle I’d encountered my first day and if I managed to escape I might be able to make my way back there.
I looked to the west. Two hours till sunset.
I had four hours to contrive, manipulate and coerce these women into not murdering me.
We crossed the tarmac and Canda snapped her fingers at the enforcement officer. He handed her a small black circular device. She palmed it and spoke. “We are back. There’s been…a complication.”
A female voice responded. “Was it the wrong girl?”
Canda looked me up and down. “I didn’t think so. But, you better just let us in.”
“Get into position.”
She tossed the communication device back to the officer and he barely managed to catch it. When she turned her back he shot her an aggravated look.
This was not a happy family.
Canda walked forward a few paces and turned around to face me as if she was preparing for something. Bee stumbled forward and I strolled beside her until I stood close to Canda, but not too close.
The enforcement officer followed, still holding the smoker, but doing so with less enthusiasm. I could see from his pained look that he hated whatever was about to happen next.
A tiny smirk on Canda’s face told me I was standing in the wrong place. She was testing me to see if I had come here before. I took another step and watched her carefully. She frowned when I moved into the correct spot as if I’d done this maneuver a dozen times, and her lips twitched down with concern.
Heavy machinery clanked to life beneath our feet. A square section of the tarmac surrounding us, completely devoid of seams or hinges of any kind, broke away from the surface and we began to descend down an enormous hidden elevator shaft.
The lights dimmed as we slowly sank into the island. After dropping perhaps two stories beneath sea level, the elevator stopped.
A hectic underground medical bay came into view. More than a dozen people scurried about, wearing shades of red and carrying screenboards, or pushing steel carts loaded with medical tools and cleaning supplies.
A gleaming silver inscription was laser-carved on a steel beam that spanned the length of the medical bay entrance.
It read: NEW AUTHORITY.
The name was meaningless to me, but it showed that this was indeed a complex organization under a unified system, and not simply a staff of like-minded individuals.
The moment the elevator stopped moving I stepped off the edge and headed for the main hallway.
A woman had just emerged from a small side room waving her hands in the air to dry them and I surmised that a bathroom was inside.
“Where are you going?” Canda asked.
I turned to give her a perturbed look. “Where does it look like I am going?”
She clamped her mouth shut and her internal dialogue played across her features with spectacular clarity.
She knows her way around. Did I almost execute one of us?
I marched down the hallway confidently.
The enforcement officer trailed after me, sweating profusely, and stood outside the bathroom door.
He was obviously terrified of confined spaces. His constant flickering glances up at the low ceiling and his clammy appearance told me he was now operating at half his normal capacity.
I filed that information away in case it would be useful later.
I shut the door and used the facilities, and then carefully pulled back the left sleeve of my dress. A smooth round shape glinted beneath the harsh light overhead.
Flick’s skinner was still in place on my wrist and I heaved a thankful sigh.
Since Flick clearly answered to the governor, and the governor had wanted me brought in unharmed, there was a chance I would be rescued.
Was Flick even still alive?
I shook my head and cleared my thoughts.
That was irrelevant.
The last thing I could do was count on someone to come and save me.
It was my responsibility to find a way out of the situation and expecting rescue was pointless.
I exited the bathroom and walked back to the main area of the medical bay. As I moved along the short hallway, I passed by a man dressed in red who glanced my way. He gasped audibly when he saw me and stumbled to a stop. He stared at me openly. Stunned/horrified.
I ignored him and walked past as if I hadn’t seen his reaction. He was a person of some importance, which was clear, because three lesser-ranked individuals hovered by his side submissively, attentively anticipating his needs.
Canda had noticed the man’s reaction and watched me carefully to see what I would do.
I shook my head, glancing back at him with a disapproving scowl. “What is wrong with h
im?”
She snorted. “He’s just never seen a dead girl before.”
I kept my face impassive as the man stared at me for a moment more, then turned away and hurried off down the hall, trailing his entourage.
I looked around the medical bay with a scowl. “Do you expect me to wait here?”
Canda rolled her eyes dismissively. Disgust/exasperation. “I’ll take you to the conference room.”
I followed her back down the short hallway and she took me to the last door on the left.
It was a conference room with a spacious area and pleasant, ambient light mimicking a sunset. It had several sleeping chairs and a table laden with food.
I selected the chair furthest from the door that offered the most privacy, consciously choosing the place that the most senior of staff would be entitled to use, and sat down self-assuredly.
My enforcement officer could not quite bring himself to come inside the room and chose to stand miserably in the hallway by the door.
That suited me.
Bee had vanished and I didn’t spend any time wondering where she had gone.
Since we were underwater there was no point searching for windows to climb through. Escape was not an option. I needed to make myself useful to these women and to achieve that goal I needed to understand what it was they wanted.
Several minutes passed but I was unable to make any calculations about how to conduct myself without more information. Canda certainly wasn’t talking. She glowered at me from the doorway, refusing to sit.
Nearly a quarter-hour dragged by but I was no closer to formulating a plan.
I needed to get them talking.
Bee reappeared then, flushed from some recent activity, and wandered over to linger by my side. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Oh, if you have any mango juice available, I’d take one.”
Canda scoffed. “Let her get her own juice.”
Bee shrugged apologetically. “I just thought…”
The sour woman shook her head. “Just keep her here until Nasha arrives. Then we can load her back up in the airship again and get this over with.”
Canda left the room in a huff, effectively assigning Bee to my supervision.
The enforcement officer stood by the door, within earshot. This wouldn’t be a private conversation but that couldn’t be helped.
I smiled warmly over at Bee. Conspiratorial/sympathetic. “She doesn’t treat you with the respect you deserve.”
“Oh, Canda? She’s…she’s just like that. You know, tough.”
“You are tough, too, Bee. But you aren’t rude about it,” I said.
She blushed appreciatively. “Well…I…”
A commotion by the door caught my attention. The man who had recognized me in the hallway was trying to push by the enforcement officer. His slight frame and unkempt curly brown hair caused him to look even younger than his boyish face already did.
His medical uniform looked wrinkled and slept in, but his eyes were alert and transfixed on me.
“I need to speak to her,” he said.
The enforcement officer glanced at Bee for permission.
She looked at me for my permission.
“Of course,” I said magnanimously. “Whatever help I can provide.”
“Let him in,” Bee said.
The man practically crept toward me as if I were a shy woodland creature that would dart away at the slightest provocation. He sat on the lounger beside me and examined my body with his eyes.
“Remarkable. Just…remarkable. She is…” he looked over at Bee. “I never hoped I’d be able to see one after…well, she’s extraordinary.”
I smiled at him. “Do I have you to thank for my remarkable condition?” I asked.
He beamed foolishly. “You wouldn’t, well, of course, you wouldn’t recall. But I suppose that I had a little something to do with it.”
I offered him my hand regally. “Then thank you. Doctor…?”
“Hove,” he said, seizing my wrist and shaking it up and down with amazement. “I’m Doctor Hove. Unbelievable. You are so vibrant.”
His astonishment over my vigorous condition led me to believe this man had seen me in a less than healthy state at some point.
He devoured me with his eyes, but the interest was purely scientific and not sexual. I was a peculiarity, a dream case study.
“There are a few side-effects that I could discuss with you,” I said.
His face blossomed with glee. “Do you notice any diminished function of your limbs?”
“I’m not sure you should be talking to her,” Bee said hesitantly, darting her eyes toward the door.
Doctor Hove bowed his head. “Of course, of course. What if I don’t ask any personal questions and keep it to physical condition?”
I offered her an endearing smile. “Oh, Bee, let him ask his questions.”
She heaved a sigh and her shoulders collapsed in defeat. “All right, but nothing personal.”
He nodded vigorously. “Yes, of course. Thank you!”
Bee stood up and went to the food table, keeping one eye on us and frequently glancing at the door.
The enforcement officer wavered back and forth in place, almost as if he wasn’t feeling very well. He mopped his forehead. It gleamed with sweat, and he tried to loosen the collar on his flack-vest to allow in a little air.
He suddenly looked extremely pale.
Doctor Hove peered at my skin while performing a surreptitious pulse check on my wrist, drawing my attention back to him.
“How is your appetite?”
“Normal,” I said. “I do sleep longer than average.”
“Really?” he said. Surprise/interest.
“There is some indication I am resistant to two types of non-lethal incapacitation methods.”
“Which ones?” he asked.
“I recover from smokers more rapidly than usual and knock-out gas cannot keep me unconscious for longer than an hour.”
“You may experience a faster healing response as well, but—”
A deafening electromechanical horn sounded through the medical bay.
Doctor Hove shot to his feet. Bee dropped her plate of food and stood dumbly listening, frozen with indecision.
I stood up slowly and mentally braced myself, anticipating some sort of massive machine-driven failure inside the medical bay, or an impending escape attempt maneuver that Flick had somehow initiated.
Canda entered the conference room at a run. “There’s been a catastrophic breach! We are flooding!”
Bee gulped in huge breaths of air. “What?”
Canda pointed at Doctor Hove, her voice frantic. “You need to evacuate.”
“But I was—”
“Now Doctor.”
Doctor Hove looked at Bee, and remarkably, she nodded at him with an almost unreadable expression. Promise/resolute.
He nodded back, and then darted from the room to engage in some pre-rehearsed exit protocol, leaving me with Bee and Canda.
“As for you,” Canda said, coming at me with a raised fist.
Bee lifted her hand and shot Canda point-blank in the head with something that was not a smoker.
Canda’s body faltered as her brain stopped sending out signals and then she collapsed dead at my feet. A pool of liquid red started to form around her.
Bee hastily stowed a pistol back underneath the folds of her pink suit and took my arm. “Come with me.”
For the second time since this entire ordeal had begun, I found myself genuinely stunned.
“Where?”
“Don’t speak.”
She ushered me into the hallway and I noticed the enforcement officer was nowhere in sight.
I also couldn’t help but notice that water was seeping across the floor rapidly.
I walked beside Bee in lockstep. Her overall aspect had utterly transformed before my eyes. She moved with precise and decisive movements, striding down the hall with composed contro
l.
As we hurried deeper inside the medical bay, down three long flights of metal stairs, she herded me along with minuscule tugs and prods with her fingers, and I knew which direction to turn simply by paying attention to her subtle touch.
We reached a series of doors, and each one she palmed emitted a welcoming metallic chime and passed us through unhindered.
By the time we reached the third door we were sloshing through nearly forty centimeters of water. Based on how rapidly it was rising, I estimated the corridor would be flooded with water up to the ceiling in approximately eight minutes.
Bee had to push with all her might on the last door to shut it against the force of the rising water. She turned, urged me forward and I saw what was obviously an evacuation station.
Seven pod portals stood before us.
Six pods were gone and displayed red blinking lights that indicated the pod tube was flooded.
One of them showed green.
Bee walked to the green escape pod, palmed the panel, and stepped back as the portal opened with a pressurized hiss.
I watched her proficient movements and marveled at them.
Her performance had been utterly convincing and I hadn’t once suspected her true allegiance.
“You are a Grey. A neurolinguist specialist, like me,” I said.
She didn’t respond and simply nodded that I’d guessed correctly.
“And you sabotaged this facility.”
She pointed at the pod. “Get in.”
I grabbed the access bar over the portal, pulled myself up and slipped inside. The interior was egg-shaped, padded, and only had room for one person.
“Is this pod able to maneuver?” I asked.
“Yes. It will automatically take you to a pre-programmed location. Someone will meet you there.”
I located a safety strap and slipped it over my shoulders while watching her. “This was not your original plan. You are improvising.”
She gave a small shrug. “My mission was to throw Canda out of the airship and dress you as a New Authority agent in her place. We could then continue with the rest of our assignment. That did not occur as expected.”
I expressed remorse/regret to show her my guilt over ruining her plans. “If I had known who you were, I would have attempted to facilitate that.”
The New Authority Conspiracy (The Keeley Dorn Adventures Book 1) Page 16
