“Well, please, come have a seat. Would you care for some tea? Coffee? Oh, wait. I remember.” Senator Arkdone snapped his fingers and in strode a pristinely dressed older gentleman. “Sir?”
“Twelve-year-old Scotch, Charles.”
“Yes, sir,”
“I really believe we can dispense with the pleasantries, Donovan.”
“Life is too full of the vulgar and vile. Never dispense with pleasantries. Sometimes pleasantries are all you’ve got.” Arkdone nodded at his butler who brought his drink on a silver platter. Charles offered Kenneth his drink, which the doctor waived away tersely.
“Tell me what I can do for you, old friend,” Donovan began.
“You can start by giving me back my Winters.”
“Oh, good. You’re already aware that they are in my custody.”
“Most of them, yes,” Kenneth corrected.
“Just a matter of time, really.” He raised his finger close to his ear and waited. Faintly gunfire could be heard. “Yes, I’d say just a matter of minutes.” Arkdone smiled smugly.
“Give them back to me.”
“You know what’s fascinating to me, Kenneth? I found where they lived, flew to their location and collected them in one day. One day, my old friend! I don’t know what you’ve been doing all these years, but as you can see, they are now in much more capable hands.”
Kenneth tried hard not to let his colleague’s comments get to him, but it wasn’t working. Through gritted teeth he had to ask, “What are you planning for them?”
“The plan is already very much in motion, Kenneth. I don’t waste time. Life isn’t just full of the vulgar and vile; it’s also very short. I’ve already taken care of their slippery ways by making it impossible for them to be near one another. My genius nanoweapons were implanted and positioned in their hearts. Your researchers and mine should really put their heads together someday and share ideas.”
Williams’ eyes were wide with anger. “You have injected them with nanoweapons?”
“Well, only half of them. The other half are triggers. But the fun part is that no one knows which are triggers and which are explosives. I’m quite pleased with myself for thinking up this one. If they get closer than seven feet to one another, something very bad will happen.” He smiled wickedly.
“How do you deactivate the nanoweapons?”
“Ah, that’s for me to know and you to ponder. However, I do have an old friend I’m sure you’d be interested in seeing. She’s undergone…” Arkdone looked off to one side thinking of just the right word, “…a procedure in which she has been made a clean slate. So don’t expect her to remember you, Kenneth.” Arkdone rose from his supple leather chair and walked toward the doorway.
“What are you talking about?”
“May I introduce Naya,” he said with a flourish.
In walked Meg, her large dark eyes looking cool and distant. She wore a form fitting, long black gown appropriate for dinner cocktails and conversation. Meg would never have this kind of dress in her closet because she wouldn’t be able to fight wearing it. Her beautiful dark curls caught the light with every wave secured behind the black velvet bow tied perfectly to the side of her neck; prominently showing off her new MetaMonarch branding.
“Meg?” Williams’ shark-like eyes spilled tears of blood for what was clearly the loss of the little girl he’d created. He was so struck by her blank, unrecognizing stare he didn’t even realize he’d stood to walk to her, desperate to find some flicker of acknowledgment in her eyes.
“How could you do this? You knew after June’s death, how miraculous Meg was to me and yet, you dared do this to her?”
“Just because she’s your biological daughter doesn’t mean she belongs to you, Kenneth.”
Williams reached down to take the strong but delicate hands that looked so much like his beloved June’s. Then again, everything about Meg reminded him of his sweet daughter, June. They were, after all, biologically sisters.
“You only made her as harvesting fodder for your sick daughter. The fact that she turned out so magnificently, so gifted, was sheer chance. Don’t think you can take credit for whom and what she’s become. If anyone should, it would be that woman who stole her from you all those years ago.”
Williams’ gloved hands reached up to Meg’s chin and tilted it up, in a vain attempt at forcing her to look at him.
“Tell me what you’ve done to her,” his raspy voice boiled with hatred of his former colleague.
“Lots of things. She’s completely controlled by me now and between you and me,” Arkdone’s voice lowered as though he were about to divulge a vital secret, “I made sure Bjorn injected the nanotrigger into her. Her very nearness to her family will kill them, but she’ll be just fine.” Arkdone threw his head back in a full on laugh. “I must say, I’ve out done myself, this time.”
“Give her to me and I’ll let you walk away from this with your life,” Williams seethed, his gaze finally leaving Meg’s porcelain skin. The blood-filled eyes of the evil scientist narrowed with rage as he challenged the man he had known and done business with for more than a dozen years. “It is the best offer you’re going to get,” he warned.
“Oh, but I just recreated her. Why would I want to give her up?”
“She doesn’t belong to you, Arkdone. Half her genes are mine. She is my flesh and blood, despite the original plan for her—she is my daughter. She is the only family I have left in this abhorrent world.” Williams’ voice rose to an ear-piercing decibel.
Knowing full well what he was choosing, Arkdone stood abruptly and clapped his manicured hands once. “You were welcomed into my home. I brought you Naya to allow you to get reacquainted. I’ve captured your enemies and am taking on the task of exacting revenge on your behalf and this is the way you choose to thank me?”
In strode two hulking men. One had a nasty jagged scar stretched horizontally across his face from one ear to the other. The other man had his teeth filed into fangs, every one of them.
“You probably don’t remember these gentlemen, but they remember you. These are MetaMonarchs and they evidently are needed to help escort you and your men from the premises.”
Williams turned and glared at his own soldier, Gideon, pointedly.
“I will gladly leave, with my daughter at my side.”
Arkdone raised one brow and the room stormed to life.
Williams grabbed Meg’s hand and yanked her out of the crossfire. Arkdone leaped after Williams, sweeping his legs out from under him and pinning him to the ground.
Gideon and Joshua took running leaps over the leather sofas, snatching knives from their waistbands as they flew and landed atop the MetaMonarchs bracing themselves at the other side of the room.
Gideon’s knife was stopped from slicing the throat of Scarface by the man’s own forearm. He was pinned beneath the last of the Perficio Rez, but fearless in his aggression. Yanking the knife with a vile sucking sound from his forearm, Scarface moved to stab Gideon in the gut with it.
Joshua was staring into the mouth of a shark as he and his opponent fought over their own knife. Just when Joshua was about to overpower him, the MetaMonarch’s razor-sharp teeth ripped into his shoulder. Joshua screamed as Sharkface spat the chunk of flesh out of his mouth and reared his head back for more.
Chapter 63 Say Goodnight
“Well, aren’t we resourceful?” Fredrick Bjorn sniffed at his own comment. “Farrow, my love. I’m so happy to see you. I’ve missed you.” His wet tongue darted from his mouth like a reptile, licking his bottom lip.
Farrow’s eyes darted downward in humiliation. The brown freckles on her cheeks stood in sharp contrast to the snow-white paleness of her skin. She looked as though she were about to be sick.
“Step away from my brother and I’ll kill you quickly, Bjorn.”
Fredrick sniffled again. “Neither option sounds palatable to me. How about I kill you and take Farrow back to my quarters? Now, that sounds delicious.”
Alik risked one more glance at Farrow and whispered just loud enough for her ears only, “I keep my promises.”
In the length of a heartbeat, Alik reached into his belt, pulled out a six-inch blade and threw it with precision at the monster’s groin.
Farrow watched with righteous loathing for the man who was her abuser for more than a decade.
Bjorn’s face paled instantly.
The gun slipped from his shocked fingers.
His eyes dropped slowly as though terrified to see what he knew to be true.
Gracefully, Alik moved from his prone position to standing. He reached his hand out for Farrow, who needed help standing on very shaky legs. Together, they walked the ten paces to the shocked pedophile. Alik looked to Farrow for direction. “Farrow, did you want to say something before we finish him?”
She nodded, her short, silky hair moving like black sand as she did.
“I hate you. I hate your touch, your smell, your mouth and your attentions. I hate everything you are and everything you have ever done to me. You will never touch me again. You’ll never hurt any little girl ever again, you sick monster. God will be your judge but if He’s asking for opinions, I’d send you to a hell where demons do to you what you did to me every second for all eternity.” With that, Farrow grabbed the handle of the knife and twisted it hard to the right, then to the left.
Bjorn screamed and collapsed holding himself, shaking pathetically.
Then she leaned down, picked up the gun he dropped, cocked it and fired one clean shot into her abuser’s skull.
One shot, one kill, Farrow recited the sniper’s truism as she dropped the gun and walked away from the body of the man who’d traumatized her for years. Never again, she pulled her shoulders back and tipped her pale face upward. Never again.
Chapter 64 Hunters
The feral cats that lived in the barn behind the compound watched from their hidden perches as dozens of soldiers moved with stealth across the lawn, stomping through the candidate-maintained gardens.
The soldiers approached the back of the compound and used the butts of their guns to break windows, throwing tear gas inside. The cats lost interest in watching the soldiers once a flurry of skittering noises were heard from the back of the barn and they knew rats were to be on the menu. The feral cats turned and began a hunt of their own.
***
Arkdone held a broken shard of glass from the bottle of Scotch that crashed to the floor during the brawl to Williams’ throat.
“I am sick of your shit, Kenneth. You are a cheap trick, you and your pathetic musings—those bodies you leave around the country—collecting their eyeballs so you can play with them like a marble collector. You’re a tragedy! Your wife killing herself for what you did to your daughter. The creation of Naya so you could heal your mistakes by killing perfection? You sick piece of shit. I have always known how pitiable your antics have been, but I put up with you so I could get my hands on the metahumans. Well, I don’t need you anymore! I have the originals—the Winters—and they will make the ultimate MetaMonarchs! I am unstoppable while you wallow in your simpleminded sentiments.”
“I may be pathetic, but I am not simpleminded.”
Shattering glass distracted Arkdone, his startled eyes following the sound.
Williams used the moment of confusion to shove the liquor bottle’s shard into Arkdone’s tanned cheek and shove him off.
Meg stood mannequin-still right where he’d left her. Grabbing her hand, he yanked her back toward the entrance of the asylum. Meg’s body moved to keep up, but she ran in a daze, tottering in the three-inch heels Arkdone had her wear.
To the metasoldiers wearing gas masks pouring in the back windows, Williams yelled, “Kill them all!”
He helped Meg over the debris that used to be the front door and ducked her head down as a helicopter dove from the clouds and landed ten yards away from them. Never allowing her hand to leave his, Kenneth Williams pushed Meg into the chopper and climbed in right behind her. Miro, who was piloting the bird, turned around awaiting Williams’ signal to take off. His eyes were black and dead and his thoughts were half English and half Russian.
***
The feral cats, two of which had fresh kills dangling from their mouths, looked up and watched the loud bird fly straight up and away from the asylum.
The noise of the blades chopping through the air, while bothersome, was no threat to them or their kills, so the wild cats found their favorite perches and began cutting past the rats’ furry skin to savor the warm, bloody meat below.
Chapter 65 Get Out Alive
“Where’s Meg?” Alik spun looking for his sister.
“Arkdone did something to her, Alik. He took her.” Evan’s eyes were still bloodshot from tears of horror and guilt at what just happened to Meg. Alik was yanking off his brother’s restraints.
“They made us watch, Alik. They erased Meg’s memory.” Cole’s voice was bitter with anger and heartbreak.
“What?” Alik turned to help his brother stand on unsure legs.
“He performed what he called ‘The Perfect Concussion’ using subaural frequency waves to target her hippocampus. She didn’t remember anything when he walked her out of here. She even held his hand as if she was a little girl walking with her daddy,” Evan coughed through tears pouring again from his raw tear ducts.
Alik shook his head in disbelief. “We’ll get her back, I swear it.”
Crash!
Alik was working on Creed’s iron shackles, picking the lock with two paperclips he found on the desk. “I think Williams’ metasoldiers have decided to join the party.”
“Wait, what?” Evan sputtered.
“We need to get out of here now!” Creed said to the sounds of crashing windows just beyond the lab.
“Yeah, without you killing each other. Stay at least seven feet apart and let me lead the way. Farrow, I need you beside me.”
She nodded once, finished yanking the Velcro and buckled straps off Sloan and hurried to Alik’s side, careful to step around Bjorn’s body.
“I don’t know where we’re going, Alik. The SUV can seat everyone but not seven feet apart.”
“I have a plan for that,” Evan said reaching beside him for a device he had been eyeing for the last three hours as he was strapped to the seat.
“Wait, what about Maze?” Cole said.
At the sound of his name, Maze let out a plaintive cry.
“Oh dear God, what did he do to you?” Alik ran up to the half-hidden crate barely big enough to fit the large, bloody coyote.
“You’re going to have to carry him, Alik. He’s implanted with a nanoweapon, too.”
Alik’s rage had him crushing the metal clasps that held the crate together so the sides flopped open making reaching under the coyote much easier. “Oh, Maze. I’m so sorry Big Man. Come on; let’s get you out of here.” He carefully slipped his large hands under Maze’s belly and scooped him up easily. Maze tensed when his paws grazed the table. “Shh, Buddy, I’m sorry. We’ll get you fixed up and…” Alik swallowed hard, “we’ll find our Meg, too.”
“Let’s go,” he said to the others, pulling his eyes away from the loyal coyote who had slowly lifted his head to lick Alik’s face in thanks.
Alik and Farrow led the way back down the macabre corridor. The white walls were painted red with blood. Body parts were strewn all around, some still hanging from the ceiling and cement walls.
If they had time to grieve the loss of life they would have, but this was a matter of their own life or death. They were hunted now by two madmen and they were in no position to stop and bury any dead.
Willing gravity not to pull a clump of tissue or even a droplet of blood on top of them, they hurried through the gruesome passageway and back to the main foyer where the whole battle had just begun. Metasoldiers wearing gas masks were streaming into the building. When the Winter Clan hit the wall of gas, their eyes began to burn and itch horribly. The effect on Al
ik was the worst because he couldn’t even use his hands to pull up his shirt over his face as the others instinctively did. His hands were full.
The metasoldiers were busy fighting Monarchs. Gunfire, knives and fists were flying through the air.
So was a helicopter.
Alik heard it before he saw it.
Looking up, he saw the aircraft lifting off through one of the tall panes of glass in the front of the foyer. Looking down at him with unrecognizing eyes was his sister, Meg. Her face was waxen and expressionless. His eyes were burning and watering painfully from the tear gas, and he only got a glimpse, but Alik was absolutely sure of it: His sister was leaving with Williams.
Trying to put that image aside, Alik hurriedly led everyone in a crouched position along the wall and through the front door he’d kicked down not thirty minutes ago.
Once outside, the effects of the tear gas, though still strong, wasn’t as severe.
Alik ran as fast as his legs would carry him, glancing over his shoulder to be sure everyone was present and accounted for. Next to him was Farrow—she never missed a step though one of Alik’s running strides was the same as nearly two of hers because of their height difference. Directly behind them was Evan, then spaced seven feet behind him ran Sloan. Seven more feet found Cole running and taking up the rear was Creed. He had positioned himself last intentionally, in case a battle needed to happen. Creed was going to make sure it was with him and no one else. The five ran the length of the gothic, tree-lined driveway and back to the fence where everyone spaced out wide and managed to climb over despite their exhaustion.
Alik waited until the last person was over before he carefully laid Maze down in the grass and walked up to the wrought-iron fence.
“We can’t leave Maze, Alik!” Evan cried, terrified that they’d lose Meg’s best friend.
“We’re not leaving him, Ev. We don’t leave family, ever.” His heart squeezed tightly in his chest—the image of his sister’s oblivious facial expression as she left with their enemy was seared into his perfect memory forever.
Winter's Warrior: Mark of the Monarch (Winter's Saga #4) Page 29
