by Cate Noble
“And what?”
“You, or a part of you, may have manipulated my reaction somewhat. I felt compelled. And you acted differently when you first came to.”
“Different how?” Max asked.
“More calculating.”
“It wasn’t me. It was Hades.”
“Max, I suspect Hades is a name for an aspect of yourself created as a defense mechanism to help you cope with abuse.”
“Stop right there.” Max finally got a few of her thoughts—enough to know she thought he was a potential nut job. “It’s not a multiple personality disorder. At least not in the conventional sense. I didn’t create it. They did. Hades was a character, a role, I played.” He stopped and rubbed his head.
“You’re hurting again,” she said.
“But not for the reason you think. These headaches, the seizures, are booby traps. When I try to remember what I did while held overseas, it triggers an internal meltdown. Part of me wants to turn it off, but at the same time I know I’m getting closer to the truth. The hypnosis helped. I definitely want to try it again.”
“Fine. But I won’t be the one to do it.” She shook her head, adamant. “You need to be back in the hospital, Max. These seizures could be causing damage you’re unaware of. It’s imperative to find their cause and get them under control.”
“Your concerns are duly noted.”
“Meaning you have no intention of taking them seriously.”
“Not until I’ve found Taz.”
“You mentioned making contact with him. Are you telepathic, too?”
“I don’t know what you call it exactly, but Taz and I are able to communicate, at times by thought, sometimes with images. Occasionally I hear his voice. It’s far from flawless and is never consistent.”
“Do you know where he is now?”
“I’m not sure. He wouldn’t reveal that.” The connection Max had made with Taz had been brief but powerful. Remember our plan. “I think he’s sick. He damn sure doesn’t trust anyone. But he’s acting on our plan. We agreed to meet at a certain cave, if we escaped and became separated. Or leave a message there.”
“Was this a cave overseas?”
“No. I don’t think so. In fact, I’m sure it’s one from my childhood. Taz spent a summer in California as a teenager, whereas I grew up traveling all over the West. We used to talk about it. Taz probably knows my childhood stories better than I do right now.”
Erin seemed to relax now as if convinced that Max wasn’t loony.
“Did any of those stories involve caves?” she asked.
“Most all of them. My Uncle Stony had gold fever. His father had supposedly discovered a gold vein in an abandoned mine, but he died before disclosing specifics. Stony inherited his father’s maps and journals. Every summer after the snow melted, we’d hike up into the mountains, retracing his father’s expeditions, looking for the mother lode.”
“Did he find it?”
“No.” It angered Max that he had to wrestle to get to that precious legacy of memories. “Stony died eight years ago. I was in the Army at the time. Stony went out alone and suffered a heart attack. Some hikers found him, but it was too late.”
“I’m sorry, Max. It’s hard to lose someone.”
The pain in her voice was tangible, making him wonder if she, too, had been away when her father had died. Before he could ask, she changed the subject.
“Is there a particular cave that comes to mind when you think of your uncle?” she asked. “One that sticks out even if you don’t recall why?”
“That would be the cave where my uncle died.” Max shook his head. “The irony is I’ve been meaning to go back there, but never have. That’s got to be the one.”
“So where is it?”
“I’d rather not say.” He met her gaze squarely. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Erin, it’s just that, I believe you’d tell someone, thinking it was in my best interests.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You intend to go off alone, don’t you? Max, please, I urge you not to—”
“I’m the only person Taz will trust, the only person who can convince him we’re safe.” You’ll never be safe. You will never be free. We will find you. “I owe him a hell of a lot.”
“I understand you feel a sense of obligation, but to risk your life helps no one.”
Max felt his temper flare. “You know how many times I wanted to die over there? Just give up, eat a bullet? Taz never let me forget that if we died, they won. We knew that we had to live to put an end to what they were doing.”
“What were they doing?” Erin’s voice was raspy. “I saw pictures. A chamber.”
“We were being brainwashed—reprogrammed. In a very ugly way. Trained to be robotic killing machines who’d stop at nothing to get the job done. No questions asked.”
“Oh, God, Max.”
“Near the end, I think they figured out Taz and I were each other’s only hope. So if I didn’t perform flawlessly, Taz paid the price. I remember him being strung up and whipped because of something I did or didn’t do. I begged them to cut him down, to whip me instead. The whole time Taz sent me messages to shut up. That he could take it. That I should be stronger.” Max met her gaze. “Nobody but me can go after him.”
Her next words surprised him.
“Let me stay with you, Max. What if you have another seizure and fall off a cliff before you get to the cave?”
“Getting to this cave doesn’t involve climbing, just hiking.”
“Then think about Taz. I’m not an M.D., but I’ve had experience with patients suffering severe PTSDs. If he’s confused, paranoid, maybe I can help. You also have to acknowledge that he, too, could be having seizures, Max.”
Her points were all valid. Underlying that was the fact that Max wanted Erin to stay. He tried to read her thoughts, but sparks of pain erupted in his mind. Suddenly he felt raw. Vulnerable. His body felt on the verge of shutting down again.
“Before you agree to go with me, we need to get clear on a couple points,” Max said. “First, I’m in charge. And you don’t strike me as the type to take orders blindly.”
“What’s the next point?”
“This thing between us. I’m attracted to you, Erin. Deeply. Sexually. And while I’d never force myself on you, I’m no gentleman. You say ‘yes’—and I’ll be on top of you like that!” He snapped his fingers. “And before you start that doctor-patient rant again, I’ll remind you we have no professional relationship.”
“Um. Wow.” She cleared her throat. When she spoke again, she looked him straight in the eye. “I suggest we both try to back-burner our personal feelings. Things are…complicated enough without that. Let’s concentrate on finding Taz.”
“Agreed.”
“And after we explore this cave, we need to go back, Max. My boss is dead. I have responsibilities. You, too. There is a limit to how much longer we can keep on like this. Stealing cars. Sneaking around. It feels like we’re Bonnie and Clyde.”
“If it’s any consolation, I plan to take full responsibility for all of it. Except Winchette’s death, of course.” He pushed up and for a moment he was tempted to kiss her. Except a kiss would only be the beginning.
He sighed. “Then let’s get back on the road, Bonnie.”
Chapter 19
Bangkok, Thailand
September 23
Rufin perched nervously on the very end of the crowded bench, hiding behind a newspaper while pretending to read. He kept his left foot poised, ready to flee at the first sign of trouble.
He’d been sitting there for an hour, a total nervous wreck, watching the shop across the street. Would Bohdana show?
After days of hiding in narrow garbage-filled back alleys, avoiding most everyone, it now seemed strange to be out in such an open space. That no one even spared him a second glance made it slightly easier for him to breathe.
It was still hard to believe he’d managed to escape the Americans who’d destroyed the lab.
Destroyed his life. The off-duty guard, who had returned early from collecting supplies, had inadvertently saved Rufin’s life that day by opening fire on the Americans. Unfortunately, when the Americans fired back, the guard had sought refuge inside the lab, not realizing the building had been rigged to blow up.
And when it blew, Rufin’s plight had grown even bleaker. If the Thai government knew he survived, they’d hold him responsible for everything: the loss of the lab, the loss of the data to the Americans, and the loss of the last two test subjects.
He prayed that the Thais believed him dead or captured. Dead would be better.
Rufin had ended up helping himself to the dead guard’s ancient motor bike and backpack, riding it nonstop—certain the hounds of hell were after him. Before reaching Bangkok, he shaved his head in an attempt to alter his appearance. Selling the motorbike netted him some money, most of which he still had. But he’d need much more to buy papers to get passage out of the country.
It had taken tremendous courage to venture into an Internet café and set up an e-mail account. He’d been so certain that half the world was searching for him. To not be taken down by a swarm of police made him feel slightly braver.
To his surprise, Bohdana had replied quickly with the shocking news that she was also in Bangkok, having fled Jakarta in the wake of Zadovsky’s death.
I have been grief stricken, she wrote, afraid you had been apprehended. Her cryptic e-mail went on to caution him against trusting anyone. The authorities are seeking any and all known associates.
Associates of Zadovsky’s, no doubt.
After outlining her fears for her own safety, she agreed to meet Rufin but only if she selected the spot. She was still so naively trusting that it made him want to cry. The memories of their friendship before Zadovsky’s death came back over him. They’d met only twice, but Bohdana had immediately latched on to him as if sensing a kindred soul. “I’m glad to meet someone else who works selflessly for Dr. Zadovsky but is not appreciated,” she’d whispered.
She had been the only person on earth he could discuss work with. The only person he ever really trusted. For the first time in days, Rufin had felt hopeful.
Now that hope blossomed to adoration as Bohdana arrived across the street. I’ll wear a red hat, she had informed him
He almost whimpered at the sight of her. She’d lost weight. And he’d never seen her wearing such drab clothing. He watched as she milled about for a while, before paying for her groceries. Heading west, away from the market, Bohdana walked a short distance and turned down a less busy street.
Rufin stood and loped along behind her. He still hadn’t decided what to tell her. Some version of the truth since he wasn’t good at outright lies, but preferably something that didn’t make him sound like such a fool.
Prior to the American raid, Rufin had been working diligently on his own plan to flee the lab, a painstaking plan that had included copying all critical research. Research he’d intended to use as a bargaining chip with another country. How ironic that the Americans had been at the top of his list.
Even more insane was the fact that Rufin still toyed with the idea of going to the U.S. Embassy and requesting asylum. Except without Taz, he had no proof, no bargaining chip.
In their zeal to come to the rescue, the Americans had virtually signed Taz’s death warrant. Rufin had seen more than one test subject die from the violent seizures induced by faulty or interrupted programming.
Still, if the Americans had Taz’s body, there was a chance.
That was one of the things he wanted to broach with Bohdana. If she would agree to accompany him to the Embassy and corroborate his story…
Up ahead, Bohdana turned toward a rundown high-rise. She had suggested they meet at her girlfriend’s flat. And since her friend was away visiting family, Bohdana had hinted that Rufin could hide there a day or two. The woman was truly an answered prayer.
She disappeared inside the building. Rufin watched for a few minutes then went in. Following her instruction, he made his way to the fifth floor and rapped nervously on the door.
Bohdana opened it and pulled him inside with a high-pitched squeal. “I have worried about you!”
“You d-d-don’t know how good it is to see you.”
She wrinkled her nose, reminding him of how long it had been since he’d bathed. He took a step back and she seemed relieved.
She waved him toward the main room and moved back to the kitchen. “Go. Sit. I’ll bring in food and tea.”
But before he even took a step, knocking sounded at the door.
Rufin froze. Bohdana pressed a finger to her lips and eased forward.
The door burst open before she reached it. A tall, blond man stepped inside, holding a handgun. The silencer attached to the gun’s barrel made it look longer. More menacing.
And it was pointed straight at Rufin.
Bohdana was talking so fast he could scarcely keep up. It was evident that she had expected this man. Her betrayal sickened Rufin. He prayed he’d pass out before the man pulled the trigger.
The man swung sideways, slamming the door behind him. Bohdana drew a sharp breath as the gun leveled at her now. She turned and ran back in the kitchen. The first shot blew off half her head.
Rufin dropped to his knees, retching as the second shot rang in his ears. He began sobbing uncontrollably. This was it. He was next.
“Come on! We’ve got to get out of here,” the man said. “Before the others arrive.”
Rufin blinked through his tears. “Others?”
“Don’t you get it? She set you up. Sold you out. The Thai secret police are on their way. Let’s go! I’ve got a car outside.”
Stumbling to his feet, Rufin kept his eyes averted, away from the kitchen. He focused on the man who’d saved him.
The stranger was a Westerner. Though wearing civilian clothes and a flashy gold watch that made him look like a tourist, the man had the same build, the same chilling confidence, as the Americans who’d raided the lab. He even handled his weapon the same way.
They had come back for him! They would protect him from the Thai agents! Rufin felt fresh tears of relief blurring his vision.
Outside, the distant sounds of a siren, an everyday noise in Bangkok, took on new meaning. They were after him.
“We must hurry,” Rufin said, panicking anew. “I swear, I’ll tell you everything. Just don’t let them get me.”
The man flashed a cold smile. “I’ve got it covered. No worries.”
Chapter 20
Boston, Massachusetts
September 23
“You said you had good news.” Abe Caldwell started speaking as soon as Tommy Groene came into his office.
He had just poured a cup of coffee. His first. Tara had met him at six in the private gym downstairs and run him through a grueling workout. A self-proclaimed “personal trainer with a twist,” she’d finished off his session with an equally grueling round of sex. Her version of cardiofuck.
Thanks to Tara’s skills, Abe’s body looked more thirty-five than forty-nine. And thanks to one of his grandfather’s more creative ventures with the late Victor Zadovsky, Abe’s legendary sexual stamina delivered on the promise his well-sculpted body made.
How ironic that, thanks to Zadovsky’s death, Abe was being forced to go public with that precious formula. All the major pharmaceutical companies had their own version of sexual enhancement drugs, cleverly marketed to aid erectile dysfunction. Caldwell Pharmaceuticals would have the twist of multiple orgasms. For men and women.
Without thought, Abe reached for a cigarette. He stopped.
That he chose not to smoke right now had nothing to do with his doctor’s advice. It was about habitual behavior. Self-control. Willpower. Now there was a dream drug yet to be made.
Abe carried his coffee back to his desk. “Out with it.”
“Allen picked up the signal again last night, in southern Arizona. This time he was able to get close enough to visua
lly confirm it was Max Duncan. A woman was with him; her description matches that of Dr. Houston.”
Abe’s cup clattered against the saucer. “You haven’t said they were eliminated.”
“They were on the interstate. Too many witnesses and traffic cameras. Then a storm hit and Allen lost the signal. They got separated.”
“Goddamnit.” Abe snatched up a cigarette, but didn’t light up. Yet. Lost and intermittent signals were just one of the things that kept the tracker technology off the market. For now. “Did he get a tag number? Description?”
Tommy nodded. “It came back registered to a junk dealer, who does not appear to have any connection to Duncan. It’s likely stolen, though it hasn’t been reported yet.”
“Let’s hope it stays that way. All I need is for the CIA to waltz in and spring Duncan from jail for auto theft.” He lit up and inhaled deeply. “Now what?”
“Triangulation is a little harder in the area Allen lost him. But sooner or later Duncan will move back in range.”
The beacon implanted in Max Duncan piggybacked off cell phone towers. All the same problems encountered with cell service sometimes made it difficult to pick up a signal.
“If Duncan gets too far ahead, tell Allen to rent a helicopter,” Abe said. “Tell him, I said no more excuses. His next call better be for body bags.”
Tommy took a sip of coffee before continuing. The porcelain cup looked awkward in Tommy’s large hands. “Allen was confident he’d catch up and eliminate them by nightfall.”
“As much as I like the sound of that, it strikes me as optimistic.”
“I agree. Which is why I think I should still go to California with the second tracker to look around for John Doe. It could speed up the process.”
“I’m beginning to wonder if Doe’s beacon is working,” Abe said. That Allen had picked up only one signal, the one they now knew belonged to Max Duncan, seemed to confirm that the other beacon had malfunctioned. “Let’s hold off on that. What have you got on the CIA’s investigation?”
