by Opal Carew
Once the chair was in place, he picked up the comforter, settled himself into the welcoming cushions, and propped his feet on the ottoman. For safety’s sake, he removed the guns from his waistband and tucked them into the gap between the cushions and seat of the comfy chair.
Within easy reach.
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes to shut out the soft light cast by the table lamp by the bed. Lil had replaced the linen ivory shade and turned it to a low setting. Listening to the measured cadence of Shaw’s breathing, he let it lull him into a light sleep.
* * *
He walked past the rooms the way a zoo keeper might, checking his prisoners in the early morning hours to make sure they were properly locked away in their cells.
When he reached the last room, he paused and glared at the empty bed through the small glass panel at the door, angry with himself that he had underestimated his Shaw’s abilities and determination.
He wouldn’t make that mistake again.
Pivoting on his heel, he stalked back toward the first room and peered within.
Santiago was beginning to stir. His head lolled from side to side as his lips twitched and twisted.
He hit the intercom by the patient’s door to listen, but the words, if there were any, were indistinct. The sounds more like the warning grunts of an animal than that of a person. Maybe because in his current state Santiago was more feral than human.
Smiling, he thought about turning Santiago loose on Shaw. Pictured the way the fight between them would ensue, pitting one set of supernatural powers against another.
Santiago had physical strength, but he was slow both physically and mentally, unlike Shaw. If it hadn’t been for the death sentences imposed by both nature and New Jersey’s legal system, he wouldn’t have urged Wells to accept the career criminal into the study. But the state had offered to release Santiago into Wardwell’s care if he participated in the experiment and the nature of Santiago’s illness – a virulent form of diabetes that modern medicine couldn’t control – had sealed the decision.
Finding a gene therapy that would help Santiago might have resulted in a cure.
And a cure would have been very profitable for Wardwell.
Unfortunately, the gene strain implanted into Santiago had produced erratic results in controlling his insulin levels. It had, however, yielded a mechanism for burning off all the excess sugar in a way that created immense energy and inhuman strength.
Such possibilities when combined with Santiago’s criminal traits and violence . . .
The smile broadened on his face as he remembered how Santiago had taken care of Wells.
If necessary, he would turn Santiago loose on Shaw to end the threat.
Once that happened it would be back to business as usual and no one would be the wiser about what Wardwell had done.
* * *
Caterina woke with a sharp cry which brought him to instant alertness.
Her captor whipped his Glock from between the cushions, trained it on the door to the room, but soon realized that there was no one else there.
She’d had another nightmare filled with images of blood and death. Fear lingered in her mind and she tossed fretfully on the bed, yanking and twisting against the restraints. Grimacing as one strong tug brought pain through her injured shoulder giving her one more reason to wish the man would give in and set her free.
Instead he tucked the Glock back between the cushions and slipped onto the ottoman. Leaning forward, he reached out as if to comfort her, but stopped halfway. Pulling his hand back, he rubbed both hands on his sweats, clearly uncertain.
His hesitation made her pause in her struggles and with that fragile calm he finally placed his hand at the top of her arm and applied slight pressure.
“Don’t hurt me,” she said softly.
He stroked his hand across her skin tenderly. In patient tones he said, “No one is going to hurt you.”
Caterina glanced at his hand and tried to move away, but the bindings made it impossible.
“Let me go,” she pleaded, wanting to be free.
He kept up his slow caress, as if trying to gentle her the way one might an injured stray. His cocoa brown eyes filled with a mix of emotions which perplexed her.
She hadn’t expected kindness. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had treated her with anything other than contempt or clinical detachment.
“Where would you go, Cat?” he asked, shifting even closer to the edge of the ottoman, his presence surprisingly comforting.
“Home. I want to go home.”
Guilt flashed across his features, warning her that home wasn’t an option he was considering at the moment.
“Maybe later, Cat. When it’s safe,” he urged and shifted his hand up her arm until he was at the binding. “I don’t want you to reinjure your arm. I’m going to loosen it a little so you don’t hurt yourself.”
Caterina warily tracked the movement of his hand as he slackened the ties. Then he surprised her by tucking his hand into hers, his touch compassionate, creating a sudden and silent understanding between them which dissipated the remaining tension in her body.
She finally relaxed against mattress and her captor nodded. “That’s it, Cat. Rest and get better. Maybe then you can go home.”
Home, Caterina thought, wondering at his actions. Baffled by the kindness he was exhibiting that was so at odds with what she had seen of him so far, namely the guns and violence.
He didn’t release her hand as she continued to stare at him. His palm was hard and calloused, but the touch was light. Soothing as he covered her one hand with both of his and once again said, “Rest. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
Somehow she knew he was capable of protecting her from the others. But as she met his gaze and saw the continued puzzlement there, she sensed that he wasn’t sure if he could protect her from himself.
“Will you hurt me?” she asked and his gaze darkened and became shuttered before he pulled his hands away.
“Go to sleep, Cat. We’ll talk in the morning.”
Chapter 9
Liliana didn’t know who to trust with the blood sample.
Certainly not her fiancé Harrison. If he thought there was anything of value in the findings, he would be the first to broadcast them to the world for his own benefit. He cared nothing for family or friends, just himself.
It only reinforced her belief that she had to find a way out of their relationship. For months now she had been contemplating it, especially as Harrison’s actions in private became more and more violent.
As she entered the hospital lab, she spotted Dr. Carmen Rojas, a pathologist who was a good friend. The two of them had helped each other through their boards and the maze-like routes of hospital politics.
She hoped Carmen could help her again.
The pathologist lifted her head from the microscope where she had been examining a slide as Liliana approached. Carmen held her arms out wide in invitation as she said, “Dr. Carrera. What brings you to my dungeon?”
Liliana smiled as she came to stand by Carmen’s lab bench, but her hand tightened on the test tube in the pocket of her white hospital jacket. She looked around the rest of the lab to make sure they were alone before she said, “If I said a science experiment, would you believe me?”
“A science experiment?”
A deep furrow formed between Carmen’s manicured brows as Liliana extracted the glowing test tube from her pocket and held it up for Carmen to see. “Somehow a dollar store glow stick isn’t my idea of a neat science experiment, Liliana.”
“You’ve got to promise this stays between the two of us.”
“Seriously? You want to me to keep a glow stick secret?” Carmen questioned even as she held out her hand and wiggled her fingers in a request for the tube.
“It’s human blood.”
Carmen gingerly took hold of the sample and brought it beneath a table lamp she had at her work station. She placed the vi
al beneath the lamp and turned it on. In the beam from the lamp, the blood glowed more brightly than it had with the ambient light.
Carmen punched another button, switching the regular incandescent light in the lamp to blue light. Beneath the blue light, the liquid in the tube phosphoresced into a much more brilliant yellow-green.
“Cool. Is this what Harrison has been up to?”
“This has nothing to do with Harrison. In fact, I’d rather he not know about it. Or anyone else for that matter,” Liliana cautioned, needing her friend to understand the importance of secrecy with the sample.
Carmen peered at her with worry before extracting a small amount of blood from the tube and placing it on a slide. As she plopped on a slip cover, Carmen said, “No need to worry. I won’t spill the beans about this to anyone.”
“Thank you.” Liliana watched silently as Carmen shifted the slide around and fiddled with some knobs on the microscope. Within just seconds, however, her friend shook her head and shifted away from the eyepiece.
“I’ve never seen anything like this before. It may take me a day or two to investigate. Find out what could cause this.”
“I understand. Could I trouble you for a DNA analysis and full tox screen also?”
Carmen chuckled. “Not asking for too much, are you?”
Liliana jammed her hands into her pockets, slightly uncomfortable with having to ask, but her own expertise lay in bones and not blood. “If it’s too much, just let me know.”
“Just kidding, Liliana. Actually, it’ll be an interesting break from the mundane day-to-day, only ... “
Her friend paused, then rose from her lab stool and rested her hand on Liliana’s forearm. “If you were in trouble, you’d let me know, right?”
While Mick and his friend might be in their share of hot water, Liliana had no such fears about herself. Except maybe for her issues with Harrison. As her gaze connected with Carmen’s, she realized that was exactly to whom her friend had been referring.
“Harrison and I are a complicated thing.”
Carmen’s hand snapped up to stop her. “If you don’t want to tell me, I’m good with that.”
“No, I need to get it out. For months now ... he’s changed and not in a good way.”
“Rumor has it he laid into one of the young residents yesterday. Reduced her to tears and then physically pushed her out the door during rounds.”
Physically pushed?
At home, what she thought had been a funk had escalated into anger and violence, turning her fiancé into a man Liliana no longer knew. That his behavior was now spilling over into his professional life created even more worry within her. She just shrugged as she wrapped her mind around it, hesitant about providing more fodder for the hospital rumor mill.
“I’ve been thinking for some time that it’s time to end our relationship,” she finally said.
“Those of us who know you would understand and support you,” Carmen said, but Liliana knew there were others in the hospital who could not imagine why she would break it off with Harrison.
For now, however, she had other worries. She gestured to the tube resting on the lab bench and said, “How long do you think it’ll take?”
“Couple of hours on the tox screen. DNA analysis will take a few days at least.”
“Thanks.” With a nod, Liliana turned and walked toward the door of the lab, Carmen in step beside her.
At the door Liliana paused, glancing at her friend who said, “If you’re ever in trouble, with anything, you know I’m here for you.”
Liliana understood that, which was maybe why she had come to Carmen for help. Nevertheless, it was good to hear her friend reinforce that she had made a wise decision.
“I know,” she said and hugged the other woman.
When Carmen released her, she hurried up to the surgical wing. As an orthopedic surgery resident, she had to make rounds with the chief surgeon and other residents in less than fifteen minutes. She generally enjoyed rounds since they provided an opportunity to become involved in a series of different cases and she liked meeting the diverse group of patients at the hospital.
Unfortunately the surgical wing was also within Harrison’s domain and this morning she dreaded it, their fight the night before still fresh in her brain.
The bruises glaringly evident on her body.
As she reached the surgical floor and noted the group of residents already gathering for rounds, she braced herself, wondering if any of them would ask about the incident Carmen had mentioned. Liliana walked toward them, aware of how some of their heads were bent together in discussion until they saw her and broke apart.
Clearly they had heard the rumors.
Straightening her spine, Liliana approached, determined to not let hospital gossip and her association with Harrison weigh her down.
* * *
From the stairs, Mick was able to see that Caterina had not yet gotten up that morning. Of course it was still early for most. Barely seven.
He had already been up for hours, his butt planted in his office chair to search for additional information on Wardwell and its two founders. Waiting to call his old buddy Franklin.
Franklin Pierce might have been his friend for nearly a decade, but if Franklin was being paid anything close to what he was, that old friendship might not count for anything. Especially since they hadn’t really seen each other very much in the last couple of years.
Taking one of the prepaid burner cell phones from his file cabinet, Mick dialed the personal cell phone number he had for Franklin. If his ex-Army Ranger buddy answered there, he might be one up on him, assuming Franklin hadn’t shut off the GPS tracking on the phone.
Leaning back into his leather office chair, Mick waited while the cell phone rang.
With each ring, he wondered if Franklin had changed at all over the years. If his old buddy was still as trustworthy as he had been during their days in the military and after?
His old friend answered with a sleepy, “Hullo?”
In the background a baby cried, possibly awakened by his early morning call. That didn’t stop Mick from engaging the GPS tracking service from the phone company he had hacked.
“Don’t tell me you’re a dad now, Franklin,” he said, the tenor of his voice friendly as he waited for the website to return a location for Pierce’s signal.
“Man, oh man. Is it really you, Carrera?”
A muffled voice said, “Who is it, honey?” as the wailing sounds of the baby grew louder.
A second later, the GPS identified the location of the cell phone – a building in a residential section of South Philly. Probably Franklin’s home judging from the area and the clear signs of family in the background noises of the call.
“An old friend,” Franklin answered the woman and then the ambient sounds in the room faded.
Franklin was leaving the woman and child behind in the room as he walked away to make their conversation more private.
“Old? Hell, Franklin. I’m not as ancient as you are,” he said playfully, prompting his friend to chuckle and reply, “But this old man can still kick your ass.”
Mick doubted it, but didn’t say. “I know you’re on the Shaw job, old man. I need you to back off.”
A heavy and tired sigh drifted across the phone line. “Can’t do. I need the money.”
“You need it enough to have your goon kill a helpless woman? She was shot by your em-ploy-ee,” he said, injecting each syllable of the last word with sarcasm.
Franklin’s words were hushed as he spoke. “My man says she attacked him. That she wasn’t human.”
Mick forced himself to laugh to attempt to dissuade his friend from such thoughts. “Come on, Franklin. She’s just a frickin’ musician. Tell your man to stop using the crack. If you give Edwards his money back and quit the job, we’ll be five-by-five.”
“Can’t do. Seriously. It’s my kid, Mick.”
Chapter 10
“Is something wrong?” Mick as
ked, concern for his old friend rising up.
“My daughter’s sick and I need the cash,” Franklin replied.
Mick surged forward in his chair, planting his boots firmly on the ground as he dragged a hand though his short-cropped hair in frustration. “Don’t bullshit me.”
“No bullshit. Some kind of anemia and the insurance doesn’t cover all that much for the treatments. I’m going broke from the medical bills.”
In his days as a Ranger, Mick had understood the meaning of trust. So had Franklin. They had survived more than one hairy mission together by relying on each other.
He decided to rely on that trust. Well, trust and a little fear.
“There won’t be anywhere for you to hide if you’re not being square with me.”
“I am telling you the truth. I’ll give you the doc’s name if you want.”
He didn’t want and it occurred to him in that moment what to do. “Give Edwards his cash back. Tell him you didn’t bargain on Shaw being a psycho.”
“Is she? A psycho?”
Mick supposed that was as good an explanation as any. “Definitely a major EDP. Anyone who manages to catch up to her needs to watch out.”
“But I gotta get the money somehow,” Franklin said, the tones of his voice holding a desperation Mick had only heard once before – during their last mission together when everything had gone to hell.
“Just tell me how much you need and I’ll wire it to your account. You still have the account, right?” he asked, thinking that Edwards’ check in his wallet would go a long way toward helping his friend.
“Still have the account, although it’s virtually tapped out,” Franklin readily admitted.
Franklin had always been good about keeping that safety account with a nice amount of cash, much like he did. Enough money to last for a couple of years if he needed to disappear. Things had to be pretty bad for his friend to dip into that emergency stash.
