Virtually His

by Gennita Low

  “Thanks for coming to my aid,” she said. “What’s your name again?”

  He paused, then replied, “Heath.” Abruptly, he stood up and said, “Why are we slowing down?”

  “The vehicle behind us just turned left, sir.”

  Heath looked back briefly. “Guess they’re giving up for now. Helen, you still have the item, right?”

  “As far as I know,” she said. “There’s a small pocket inside my suit.”

  He came to kneel down by her again. “Which side?”

  She sighed. “I suppose you want to put your hand in my clothes.”

  “Just to make sure it’s there. You were in some kind of trouble before you came out of the building.”

  “There was no one with me,” Helen said. But how could she explain what had happened in there? She shrugged. “The drug was probably bothering me. Right side.”

  She watched as he pulled down the zipper of her bodysuit. He adjusted his position so he could slide his hand inside. Their eyes met.

  “You know, Heath, I usually don’t let my men touch me there on the first date.”

  A glimmer of amusement touched his lips. “Your men?” he asked, raising his brows. He moved his hand and she felt him nudging the card against her chest. He continued holding her gaze as he pulled her pants back out, then added softly, “There’s touching, and there’s touching.”

  Helen blinked and studied him for a second. Built like an athlete. Nice square jaw. His eyes reminded her of her favorite dog, Mimo, whose angelic eyes hid an imp that would rip apart a whole trash bag to go after the bone in there and then look at her with those heartbreaking hazel eyes when she got home. Mimo always got what she wanted from any man, woman or child by just looking at them, whether it was a gruff pat from the surly neighbor or a child to share his ice cream cone. Mimo was evil like that. And she had adored her.

  “De Clerq, status has turned green,” Heath said, as he stood up. “Our pursuers tranqued Helen, so there was another agenda. I’d make a list of those people who would know about our Hell and RV program. Give me status of others, over.”

  “Number One is on his way to airstrip. Number Nine retrieved just one target. The others escaped and there wasn’t time to run after him. Number Five’s waiting at airstrip. We want to know Helen’s status. As for the list, do you know the names that are going to be on it? Some of them are major players in the agencies, over.”

  “Not my problem,” Heath said, looking down at Helen. “Helen can’t walk just yet, but she can talk. She might need to be carried. Maybe Number Five will make himself useful today. He hadn’t done much.”

  Helen grinned. Number Five was Flyboy. Good to know these guys had a sense of camaraderie. From De Clerq’s report, she was getting a fair idea of what the rest of the “team” was doing. She had done her task and they were doing theirs. She frowned. Except for Number Nine. He didn’t retrieve somebody—who? One of two. The Cummings. Her frown deepened. Her fault, maybe. She’d caused him to lose time.

  “Actually, Number Five has taken off to collect some satellite pictures of your chase. Your GPS dart hit its mark. Good work. You, too, Hell. We might get some more useful info about the people that attacked you, Hell, over.”

  “Good,” she said. “I’d like to know that myself. Especially if it’s one of our agencies causing the trouble. What’s next on the agenda?”

  “We all get home and you get to show off to the big brass what you’ve retrieved for them.”

  “Okay, but will I ever know what the hell this operation’s about, besides getting a stupid decoder key?” she asked. “The mission is over so giving me details won’t interfere with my RV sessions.”

  “We’ll discuss that during debriefing.”

  “Heath, will you be there?” she asked.

  His gaze roved over her prone body. “I have another task to do,” he said, before turning his attention back to the front.

  Too many details destroyed objectivity in remote viewing because then the viewer would be creating the reality rather than collecting information. Once a session was over, the rest of the details would be provided, mostly to satisfy human curiosity. Sometimes, during her CIA sessions, they would just give her the percentage of success, without much else to tell her whether she “saw” the right target, or not.

  She hoped CCC wouldn’t do that. She lay there, staring at Heath’s back. He was never there in the meetings. Was he her monitor?

  Fifteen

  The briefing had been short, to the point, and fortunately, no one questioned her abilities. All they had to do was take a look at her, of course.

  “How are you really feeling?”

  Helen turned. Dr. Kirkland had refrained from asking more than the standard questions during the meeting with the top agency executives. She had limped in on her own two feet and had shown them the electronic card. She wasn’t required to give a detailed account of how she got to it; that was irrelevant because the point was to prove that TIRVVR worked. And with the targeted object in her hand, none of the big brass argued. Thus the meeting was short and focused mainly on her success.

  After it was over, everyone was dismissed for rest and in her case, medical care. De Clerq was going to review the stolen satellite feed they had directed to the Center before debriefing. She’d learned that the trojan their insider had planted in Deutsche International’s security system had a timer and would self-destruct once the mission was completed. That way, nobody could put a trace on them.

  All in all, a pretty successful operation. She didn’t feel particularly elated, but that wasn’t what Dr. Kirkland wanted to know about anyway.

  “I still don’t feel tired,” she told him, “although logic tells me that I should be dead on my feet from exhaustion. I’m not walking very well either.”

  “Yes, I’ve been told to look at that knee. You probably twisted it in the fight. Let’s get you to the medical room and we’ll have a complete checkup without interruptions.”

  To be honest, she didn’t want to be stripped and prodded, but of course this was the best time for that because it would give the doctor information he needed for his study. It was strange. She wanted to…prowl.

  She had to smile at the thought. At the moment, the prowling would look a lot more like limping. She looked down at her injured knee, trying to feel the pain. It would probably worsen her injury, too.

  “All right.” She allowed herself to be placed in a wheelchair again. She turned to De Clerq as Derek wheeled her off. “When will we all get together for a post-mission meeting?”

  “Usually when most of the operatives are back,” De Clerq answered. “If there is a long time in between operatives’ return, we get together for a mini-update. We’ll make sure you’re kept in the loop. Rest up before debriefing, Hell.”

  She nodded, not bothering to tell him that she couldn’t rest. When they were out in the hallway, she asked casually, “So who’s back from operations and who’s not, Dr. K.?”

  “As far as I know, Heath’s back. He was the one in the van with you. Alex, Sullivan and Shahrukh are all accounted for. Flyboy, T., and Jed are still out.”

  Helen hid a smile. She knew there were seven of the commandos left after the big incident that took two of them out. Add in Armando, and she had all their names now. Now all she had to do was find the time to study their files.

  She wished she had shown more interest in doing so after she’d been told she’d “won” the coveted new job and would be finishing her training at Command Center, but she hadn’t thought about it. She had been out of the field for two years, so on her days off, it had been great to finally find some time to relax a little bit and catch up with her GEM sisters. The GEM structure had also changed after the merger with the highly-secretive Covert Subversive Command Center and she was more interested in that than in the individual players. After all, she had trained and competed with military types before, so these COS commandos couldn’t be much different.

  Wr
ong. She should have paid attention to her instinct. She had gotten to know Flyboy and even though he appeared “normal,” she had felt a subtle shift of difference in him now and then. And Armando Chang was definitely a study all by himself. Speaking of which—

  “Where was Armando?” she asked, in the same casual tone. “I don’t think I saw him at all.”

  “He didn’t go on this operation,” Dr. Kirkland told her. They entered the elevator that would take her to the medical sector. “I imagine he’s in his quarters.”

  She remembered the mention of Flyboy going off for satellite pictures of vehicles. That left Jed McNeil, Number Nine. She frowned. God-in-jeans, she’d called him. Irritating god-in-jeans, she amended. He had to “retrieve,” Heath had told her during the ride. She recalled Heath talking to De Clerq about telling Jed that he couldn’t be there for backup or something. So was Jed still out there searching for a lost target? Was it her fault?

  She didn’t like the idea of her mistake causing extra work. When she was done with Dr. Kirkland, she would go search out Heath and ask him herself whether it was her fault, and if so, what exactly was Jed doing right now?

  At the medical room, two nurses helped her undress. She eyed the pile of dust-smeared clothes ruefully as she thought about the wild ride on top of the elevator. The black hid the stains well, but they were probably ruined by whatever oily stuff had been coating the surface of the elevator.

  “Your vitals are fine. Your leg looks better than I thought but will likely swell up more tomorrow. You’ll probably need some painkillers then, too. I’ll also schedule an MRI.”

  Good to know she hadn’t made her injury more serious. “What would cause the odd muscle flutters, though, Doc?” she asked. She recalled the nausea, the feeling of being tightly squeezed, as if something was invading her being. She hadn’t been able to see where she was going, and usually, she would have reacted to the loss of control. Yet, she’d been able to maintain her focus. The serum must have helped her overcome the initial fear. Or Hades’ training had prepared you for that. She chose not to dwell on that particular subject right now. “I know it’s probably my body reacting to the drug but if it keeps happening, how do we stop it?”

  “We’re going to do a few more tests. I’m afraid you’ll have to go to the bathroom with a cup,” Dr. Kirkland said.

  Helen smiled, amused. “You think I’d cheat with a few sides of caffeine, Doc?” she teased. “Maybe put more stimulants in my body just for the hell of it?”

  Dr. Kirkland shook his head. He stretched her leg out to the side and gestured to Derek for a towel to wipe off some of the grimy stains that had soaked through her pants. “No, but it’s my job as a doctor and a scientist to eliminate every possible reason that could have worked against the serum before working on its effects on you. So far, you have shown some of the textbook symptoms of SYMBIOS 2 effects.”

  “The ability to withstand pain, less need of sleep, with my mental faculties still intact, yeah,” Helen interrupted. “What else is missing?”

  “The pain is there, it’s just that the nerve center in your brain is desensitized to it,” Dr. Kirkland explained. “Depending on where the pain is, or the injury, the part of your brain that controls that area is sending electrical and biosignals to that part of your body. As we’ve explained, we don’t know exactly how pain suppressants like aspirin work, except that they do. The body just understands where to send that particular drug.”

  “So you’re saying you don’t know, other than my leg injury, exactly what other parts of me the serum might be affecting. You can’t tell, even with tests? Oh, wait a minute, I am the test.”

  Helen winked at Derek. She enjoyed teasing Dr. K. and the other scientists because they never had any solid answers about anything.

  “Anything that affects and tricks the brain is dangerous, Helen,” Dr. Kirkland cautioned quietly, his forehead creasing in a small frown. “We have to get to the bottom of this strange episode, especially if it happens again.”

  “I know,” she said meekly. “Anything you say, Doc.”

  The doctor shook his head. “You’re so like him. Both of you don’t seem concerned about the changes to your bodies.”

  That got her attention. She knew who the “him” was in reference to.

  “And what are his changes?” She waggled her finger. “Come on, Dr. Kirkland, give me something here. What’s affecting the great secret monitor?”

  Everything was like a piece of the puzzle and she pounced on all the information hungrily and eagerly. She wanted as many pieces as possible so she could form the picture.

  Dr. Kirkland studied her for a moment, as if weighing whether he should say any more. He finished bandaging her leg and cut the access cloth.

  “I’ve noticed recently that both your REM cycles begin and end together once or twice in a night. Do you have lucid dreams, Helen?” he asked.

  REM. Rapid eye movement was the state of sleep in which the person was actively dreaming. “I have dreams now and then.” Helen shrugged, keeping her expression bland, but her heart was thumping from this new piece of information. “Nothing unusual that I can think of.”

  “Pay more attention and see whether you can remember them. It would be interesting to compare notes with his dreams.”

  “Does he tell you what his dreams are about?” she asked curiously.

  “It isn’t part of the experiment, so there aren’t any notes taken. I’ve told him about the possibility of putting his dreams on record.”

  She didn’t like this idea at all. Her dreams were private, too private to share.

  Dr. Kirkland gave her an amused smile. “He had the same exact expression you have on your face right now.” He tilted his head to one side. “When you agreed to have all this done to you, didn’t you expect there to be drastic changes to your body as well as your mind? Doesn’t seeing Armando Chang’s behavior give you clues to possible side effects of the serum?”

  “I’ve gone through workshops about all the possible effects, Dr. Kirkland,” Helen replied. “Did you imagine that I wasn’t prepared for the risks? Although, I must admit, it’d be cool to be able to do magic shows like Armando.”

  As a way to distract him from talking more about lucid dreaming, she opted to lighten the mood of the conversation. Admittedly, she hadn’t really thought about the risks much in the beginning of the training. Each program had been so challenging and knowing that she had competition had made her focus solely on winning. In her mind then, the serum and all its risks were only for the winner and she hadn’t won yet.

  “Remember, Armando isn’t doing remote viewing and doesn’t have the downtime a remote viewer undergoes after a session, so you’re actually more tired than our past testers of the serum, Hell, both mentally and physically,” Dr. Kirkland warned. “When you come out of your state, you might need more rest than you thought. Or, something.”

  “Or, something…?” Helen dragged the word out, giving the doctor a questioning look. She had thought about that, too, but she wasn’t one to keep worrying about something over which she had no control. If she was going to do this, she had to just do it. “What do you think is going to happen to me when I come out of my ‘state,’ as you called it?”

  She stood up, testing her weight on her feet. Maybe a small niggle of discomfort? She couldn’t tell.

  “Pain would be the fairly obvious consequence. Your leg is going to be hurting. A lot. And don’t be shy about telling me how much it is when you feel it, Hell. I have to know.”

  “Have I ever been shy about anything, Doc?” Helen smiled. “I promise I won’t hide the pain.”

  “You might not be able to.”

  “Okay, then you don’t have to worry about me lying to you about feeling pain, then,” she said. “What else?”

  “Maybe sensitivity to light. Your body lacks sleep. Your thinking might be affected. You haven’t eaten much so you’ll definitely be hungry. Your brain and body might compensate for your lack
of sleep by producing different levels of hormones. With Armando, he definitely sees ‘things’ after using the serum. He also likes to sit in the dark, says the light bothers him.”

  Besides looking for Heath to ask him about the “retrieval,” she also definitely needed to talk to Armando. She could do this before the serum wore off. She had a feeling she would be sleeping like a log, after.

  “All right,” Helen said. “I’ll get hold of you when things go crazy, Doc. Can I go now? Is it okay to walk on my own? Not too much, of course.”

  “Yes, but be careful. Take these painkillers. Get hold of me if there’s any problem.”

  “All right. Umm, can someone give me some clothes to wear? And can I have my boots back?”

  Once she was alone, she pulled out the electronic comm card from the side slit in her boots. It was Armando Chang’s. She slid the card through the security slot in the communications channel and punched in her own security code. Armando would know it was from her and that she was calling from inside Center.

  He came on after the third buzz. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the Princess of Darkness calling me,” he drawled. “And how was the experience?”

  “You’re suddenly right to the point, Chang,” Helen commented. “What, no roundabout chitchat about illusions and pain?”

  “But you’re calling me precisely to talk about that, aren’t you?” he mocked. “I don’t like being predictable.”

  He was far too perceptive. Of course he’d known she would call him with questions afterwards. “You gave me your card,” she reminded him. “I take that as an offer to answer my questions.”

  “Everything has a price, Miss Roston,” he said. “Are you ready for yours?”

  “You’re pissing me off, Chang,” Hell warned. “Are you going to help me or not?”

  “You’re feeling anger? Cool. The serum’s wearing off a bit. The drug takes the edge off emotions like anger and pain, as you know.” He affected a heavy accent, very similar to Dr. Kasparov’s during their first meeting. “It increases your pain threshold by producing analgesia that blocks your pain receptors. It’s antianxiety. It acts on the limbic system, thalamus and hypothalamus of the CNS to produce hypnotic effects. It also blocks serotonin and motor neurons. So, tell me, how’s your limbic system and hypothalamus doing, Hell?”