by Ravenna Tate
The sex was incredible. No doubt about it. She’d miss it terribly if they broke up. But it had been from day one. That wasn’t the only thing she craved from him. She enjoyed his company. He was easy to talk to and easy to be with. He didn’t make demands on her time, he treated her with respect, and he praised her work in front of others.
In fact, thinking over the past month, him pulling her hands out of Blaine’s grasp a moment ago was the first sign of jealousy toward another man that she’d seen from him. Was that because he knew more about Blaine than she did, and perhaps the man had a habit of stealing women from the others? Or was it because he’d meant what he’d said?
Did she belong to Viggo Ingram? And what exactly did that mean, in his eyes? Where did he see this going? She’d never pushed for answers to any of those questions because all of this was new to her. Madison had always believed actions spoke far louder than words. Viggo’s actions so far had assured her that he cared deeply for her. His actions toward Blaine reinforced the belief.
But was that enough for her? Did she want and need more from him?
The questions would have to wait. They had reached a metal wall with several doors set into it, along a corridor that seemed to stretch the length of the building. What the hell had this place been before?
“Was it built this way on purpose?” she asked. “I mean, was all this here before, when it wasn’t empty?”
“HCS used to use it,” said Viggo.
“For what?”
He gave her a dark glance. “For exactly what it looks like.”
Angela, Dominic, and Blaine opened a door at the end of the hallway, but Viggo held Madison back. “Go on,” he told them. “We’ll be right in.”
Once the others had gone inside, he cupped her face gently. “I need to know you’re all right.”
So many questions sprang to her lips, most of them having to do with the way Blaine had behaved, and what he’d said, but this wasn’t right time. “I’m fine. A bit overwhelmed, but fine.”
“The second you’re not, you need to tell me. I won’t be upset, okay?”
That was exactly what she meant. The fact that he would care about her emotional needs and make sure she knew she could count on him to attend to them. He wasn’t the kind of man who would say something like that to a woman he was only casually dating.
The question was right there, hanging in the air above her head. She could see it. And suddenly, she had to know. Damn the consequences. “Are you in love with me?”
He blinked a few times as she watched several emotions cross his face in rapid succession, from surprise all the way to relief. She had no clue what he was about to say, but just as he looked about to speak, the door opened again and the Weatherman she recognized as Barclay peered out from behind it.
“Get in here, quick! We have Dave. They’re bringing him up now.”
Hooray for you! Talk about lousy timing.
“What?” Viggo’s entire attention was now focused on Barclay.
“I said we have Dave. Get in here!”
Viggo gave her an apologetic look and took her hand.
As Viggo led her inside the room, Madison tried to take in the scene. She recognized each of the Weathermen she hadn’t yet met from the video calls she’d been part of.
Bottles of wine and champagne were open on the table off to one side, and everyone had a plastic cup in their hands. Next to the booze were plates of food, including fresh fruit and pastries. They were all talking at once, and the atmosphere was more like a party than the serious matter she had thought it would be.
Despite the festive atmosphere, she’d never felt more alone. Even as Viggo introduced her to Ace Easton, Emmett Radcliffe, Kane Bannerman, Damien Rivera, Addison Carlyle, Barclay Hampton, Grayson Jensen, Oliver Fairchild, and Atticus Yates, Madison felt like an intruder.
Each man shook her hand or gave her a quick peck on the cheek. She’d met each of them online already, after all. In person, they were gracious and warm, and every one was more handsome in person than in their video calls. But all that did nothing to dispel the certainty that she didn’t belong here.
These men, with the exception of Viggo and Blaine, were married or engaged. They loved their women with all their hearts and souls. She’d listened to Viggo talk about them for a month now, so she knew that to be true.
Angela looked so at ease with all of them, but why shouldn’t she? She was one of them. She’d been accepted into their group. She was getting married to one of them. Madison wanted that, too. She didn’t need an engagement ring on her finger, but she did need to know that she wasn’t merely Viggo’s latest plaything. It was likely the others thought that’s what she was, and the realization made her wish she’d stayed behind in CentralWest.
This had been a mistake. Nothing was going to happen to him. This place was a fortress inside and out. It was guarded outside by men who were obviously paid to keep intruders away. Viggo would have come home eventually, and then she’d have known where she really stood.
These were his friends. This was his cause, and she had no idea how she could possibly contribute anything useful. She was in marketing, not criminal justice or IT. She couldn’t do anything but watch whatever was about to happen, and wasn’t even sure she wanted to do that much.
Right now, all she wanted to do was go home.
Chapter Seventeen
Viggo asked Angela to sit in the back row of chairs with Madison. He didn’t want to leave her alone while he joined the crowd up front to watch as they brought Dave into one of the interrogation rooms on the other side of the one-way mirror. The mirror dominated one wall of this room, and afforded them a view of three interrogation rooms.
He was worried about Madison, but not because of Blaine. Blaine was a notorious flirt but essentially harmless. His concern centered around whether she’d see all this and conclude he and his friends were nothing but thugs and vigilantes.
The media had labeled them both more than once during the past year. It was difficult to fight against public opinion when the people living underground had become tired of hearing the Weathermen were trying to do this and trying to do that. They wanted results, not endless promises.
It hadn’t helped that they had deliberately kept so much from the public. The rumors flying around the Internet were mostly false, but people didn’t know that. The entire group was shrouded in an air of mystery, and their integrity had recently been called into serious question by articles of the sort that Dave had written.
Viggo knew this was their only chance to right what had been made wrong. It was their one shot to stop this program. They’d be able to spill their guts then, but only if this worked.
Julianne arrived shortly after they watched Dave brought into the middle interrogation room. The other two were currently empty. Viggo introduced Julianne to Madison, and then took her and Kane aside to ask if Julianne could sit with Madison and Angela.
“Why are the women sitting in the back row?” asked Julianne, smiling. “Afraid we might get answers out of Dave and you guys won’t?”
Viggo always admired Julianne’s directness. “It’s not like that. Madison is a bit overwhelmed by all this, and you and Angela are the only other women in the room. I only want to make sure she has people with her to keep an eye on her.”
“You’re all so sexist.”
Kane chuckled, and then he kissed Julianne on the cheek. “Yes, we are. You’re right. But will you do it anyway?”
“It doesn’t matter to me where I sit as long as I can hear Dave’s answers, assuming he gives you any. You had no luck at all with the others.”
Kane grimaced. “Please don’t remind us.”
“You don’t need to worry,” said Viggo. “We’re recording all these interviews.”
She arched a brow. “Is that what you’re calling them? Interviews? Will you let me have a copy of this one, then, in case I miss something?”
“Of course.”
Julianne join
ed Madison and Angela. Then Viggo crowded in next to Blaine and Dominic to watch four men bring Dave into the room. He looked terrible. Had he been in hiding? He had lost a lot of weight since Viggo had last seen him. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was shaggy, like he hadn’t cut it in a long time.
“You can tell them to take the cuffs off,” Dave said, looking directly into the mirror on his side of the wall. “I won’t try to run. I’m too fucking tired.” He knew he was being watched. He’d likely been standing where they were now many times during his career.
Everyone in the room fell silent as the four men removed the handcuffs and ankle restraints, then stood in front of the door to the room. Dave rubbed his wrists. “Any chance of getting something to drink?”
Ace pushed a button on the wall and leaned close to the speaker below it. “Bring him whatever he wants.”
“This is silly, you know,” said Dave, eyeing the mirror again. “I’d rather be talking to all of you face-to-face.”
Ace flipped a toggle switch above another speaker, and a red light came on above it. “We’re doing it this way for now, Dave. Everyone is here. All twelve of us.”
One of the men near the door of the interrogation room opened it, and another man walked in to place a tray holding bottled water and two sandwiches in front of Dave. Dave eyed the door long enough to watch the man retreat through it. When the men in the room closed it again, Dave drank the entire bottle of water, then consumed one of the sandwiches in four bites. Viggo wondered when he’d last eaten.
Ace talked into the first speaker again. “Bring him more water, please. He’ll be in there for a while.”
Dave sat back in the metal folding chair and sighed loudly. “You want to know why I wrote that article, don’t you?”
“That’s no longer important,” said Emmett. “You know what we want. Tell us how to stop it, Dave.”
He shook his head, the corners of his mouth curling up. “Didn’t get anywhere with the others, did you? Don’t bother denying it. I read about it online. You should read the chatter out there. You’re not seen as heroes, you know. You’re seen as thugs, no better than organized crime figures.”
Viggo felt Dominic stiffen next to him. No one in this room except Viggo knew Dominic’s real past, and Dave certainly didn’t know about it. Viggo turned around and addressed Ace, lowering his voice so Dave wouldn’t hear him. “What happened with the other hackers?”
“Sam is still missing, and Clyde told us all to go fuck ourselves blind. Mindy refused to say a word without a lawyer present, although she doesn’t have one, and we told her we don’t give a shit whether or not she says she wants an attorney because we aren’t the police.”
Viggo rolled his eyes.
“Shawn sat in that room on the right for ten hours and didn’t say a word. Drank nothing, ate nothing, and never even asked to use the bathroom. Dante said we already knew as much as we’d ever know and refused to say another thing.”
“What about Rob or the other thirteen people?”
Ace shook his head. “They don’t know anything, and Rob is useless. Waste of time to pick him up.”
“Did I hear someone mention Rob’s name?” asked Dave. “He doesn’t know anything.”
“Rob simply reiterated everything we already knew,” said Barclay, addressing Viggo in a low voice. “He kept asking to talk to Ace alone so he could explain why he did what he did. When Ace went into the room with him, he didn’t tell him anything other than what we’d already found out.”
“I thought at one point he was going to pee his pants,” said Ace. “I actually felt sorry for the guy.”
“Where did you find him?” asked Viggo, gesturing toward the window.
“In a storm shelter,” said Blaine. “He’d been in there for two weeks. He was out of food and almost out of water. He’d been running outside every time he had to take a piss. We had them take him to a hotel so he could shower and shave before they brought him here.”
“Our guys found him up there?”
“No. A team of Storm Troopers did. They got in touch with Ace, but Dave didn’t even put up a fight. He stayed there with them until our men came to get him.”
“He knew he was caught.”
Blaine nodded.
“Rob is planning on suing you,” said Dave. “His wife is posting about it all over the Internet. All of them will sue you when this is over. Wrongful imprisonment, grand theft for taking Rob’s laptop, kidnapping … and that’s just for starters.”
“We don’t give a shit about any of that,” said Damien, pounding his fist on the window. “And neither do you. You know better than any of them what’s really at stake here.”
Dave ate the second sandwich, slower this time, and then drank another bottle of water from the group of six that had been placed in front of him. When he finished, he ran a hand over his face. “I didn’t believe it at first. The predictions Oliver made.”
“Is that why you wrote the article?” asked Kane.
“Not at first. I fought Barclay and Grayson tooth and nail in that meeting because Bonnie and I both believed you’d all become too powerful. Your egos were out of control. We thought you’d made up that oxygen depletion story to get your own way.”
“How do you feel about it now?” asked Oliver, quietly.
Dave stared at them for long moments, his expression unreadable. “I know you told the truth. I found out, you see. I asked around. I did my own digging when I was in that storm shelter.”
“So why did you write it, then?” asked Blaine.
Dave ran a hand through his hair. “You were too close to the truth. I thought I could deflect attention away.”
“Away from what?”
Dave shook his head.
“Whatever the reason,” said Addison, “do the right thing now, Dave. Tell us how to stop it.”
No one moved. No one breathed. Everyone in the room was focused on Dave now. Viggo could feel it. He could smell the fear and desperation coming off them. No one but Dave could help them do this, and everyone knew it.
“What about those tests?” he asked. “Reversing the fields?”
“They’re still working on it,” said Oliver. “It’s taking longer than we thought to test the theory.”
“Tell them not to bother,” said Dave, his voice filled with defeat. “It won’t work.”
Viggo swallowed hard. “Why not?”
“You’ll blow the planet apart. It’ll send a shockwave that will trigger massive earthquakes. These cities will collapse.”
“You don’t know that,” said Dominic.
“I do know it. Ask your experts. Call them now and ask them how the lab tests are going.”
“It is possible to do,” said Oliver.
“Yeah, it’s possible. It’s happened in real time, but slowly. Over centuries. Not all at once, and not artificially.”
“You’re a coder,” said Grayson, “not a physicist or an electrical engineer. What would you know?”
Dave slammed his hands on the table and stood, his face red. “Then fucking ask them, Grayson! Ask them right now how it’s going! I’ll wait.”
The Weathermen all eyed each other, and then finally Atticus took out his Internet phone. He pushed a button, and then they listened to him speak with Corbin Bertrand, the physicist who was working with Harold Gregory. Harold had a PhD in magnetic engineering.
Viggo didn’t need to ask after Atticus ended the call. They all had heard enough on their end to know that Dave had spoken the truth.
“It’s not going well,” said Atticus. “The tests in the lab show it can work, but it’s like Dave said. The shockwave is too intense. They predict if we try it, the planet will suffer major earthquakes. A minor one here and there won’t affect these cities, but the kind that Harold and Corbin say would be triggered could collapse them.”
“How did you know this?” Barclay asked Dave.
“How the fuck do you think we knew to have The Made
line Project harness the electromagnetic fields in the first place? Do you imagine none of us played with these same types of tests in a lab setting? You think it was all guesswork and coding?”
“Well, Dave,” said Viggo, “then I guess we’re right back to where we started. There’s only one thing left to do or we all die. It’s up to you to save the planet. How do we stop this thing?”
“You can’t stop it. You can’t get back in.”
“I don’t accept that. Help us find a way.”
Viggo waited while they all watched the emotions cross Dave’s face. He knew he was backed into a corner, and he knew this entire thing, after nearly eight years, came down to him and him alone. If anyone had told Viggo eight years ago that Dave Perry would have to save Earth from the very program he had helped create, he’d have laughed in their face.
****
Madison hadn’t said a word to Angela or Julianne since the men began talking with Dave. She was both terrified and fascinated by this exchange. All that time they’d spent tracking down the hackers and the thirteen others known to have worked with them in some way, and it meant nothing. They’d stolen Rob’s laptop, and while that had given them the information to get this far, even that hadn’t solved anything.
If this man couldn’t help them stop The Madeline Project, no one could. Everyone on the planet would die a slow death within two and a half years. It was too surreal to be true. There had to be a way to prevent it.
She rose and went to stand beside Viggo, slipping her hand into his. Dave looked like a caged animal, but one that was ready to give up the fight. She felt sorry for him. He had to be a damn genius to have worked on such a complicated program, yet right now he was nothing more than a criminal.
Or were the twelve men in this room the real criminals? Dave was right about one thing. Public opinion had changed over the past year toward the Weathermen. She’d seen that for herself. There were so many rumors and stories floating around out there that the average person had no clue what to believe any longer.
