I swear the man must have heard that thought, for his next words were, “I think we’ll go with the brachial plexus next.” Having no idea where that was, I then sucked in a breath as I felt something puncture my neck. “This time, you’ll need to stay really still, Thirty-Eight. One wrong move with my needle in here and you could be facing paralysis for life.” I closed my eyes again and swallowed tightly. This wouldn’t break me. I just needed to be able to endure. Focus. Think about what you’ll do to the bastard behind you when you get out of this chair. Plan it out, step by step.
Adie worked me over for two hours with the needles. It turned out there were plenty of really unpleasant nerves that could be targeted with a bloody sharp, and very long needle and my torturer knew them all. By the time he'd got bored, I was a mess - a trembling, quivering, pain-riddled mess.
"Okay, Thirty-Eight. I think we can dispense with the warm-up." Standing in front of me once again, Adie put his hand out for the gag. I spat it out and looked up at him with watery eyes. Although I'd put the brakes on the tears, there were some things you couldn't control. He lifted my chin up in his fingertips. "You don't look so good. You sure you're cut out for this?" Rubbing my cheek with his thumb, I could almost see him working out how long I'd last. Another hour, two perhaps? Normally, I might have agreed with him – but he hadn't factored on one thing. He was the man who had killed Kiel, and I needed my revenge. One way or another, I was ending his life.
“So, I guess that means it’s question time and I need some answers. Let’s hope you’re in a talkative mood.” Adie walked behind me to retrieve some unpleasant instrument of torture or other, leaving me time to consider all the escape options from this room. At the moment I was tied to a three-legged chair, by means of steel handcuffs. A plan had already formulated itself in my head if everything went to shit. All I would need was to be left alone for a few minutes in order to execute the damn thing. If there was a God, I wouldn’t have to, but I was going to hold that plan tightly to my chest, just in case.
When Adie came back in front of me, he had a wooden stool with him, on which he slung a big, black, leather briefcase. I had a nasty feeling I already knew what was inside, but I craned my neck to look anyway. Sure enough, the damn thing was filled with vials and syringes. I shuddered.
“What’s the matter, Thirty-Eight? Not fond of needles?” Adie had the look of the devil in his eye as he sucked on his bottom lip. “That’s too bad. Mind you, by the end of this session, I might cure you of that phobia because I’m going to breaking out an awful lot of them if you prove difficult.” He looked up at me. “Are you going to prove difficult?" The devilment lurking in his eyes was unmistakable.
Looking at the needles warily, I pursed my lips. I certainly hoped I was going to prove difficult, but this was going to push the boundaries of my training to the absolute limit. I’d just have to hope I was up to the task in question. I had my cover story lined up, the only challenge would be in getting it past my lips.
“This has all been a big mistake,” I whispered. The sorry state of affairs I was in made that sentence true enough.
“Are you trying to tell me you accidentally tried to take my father’s head off?” I could see Adie was trying his best not to laugh as he loaded up a syringe and tapped the air bubbles free from the top.
“Not exactly,” I whispered, as he came towards me, needle first.
Chapter Two - Lois
Adie pushed my head to one side and stuck the needle firmly in my neck, before slowly depressing the plunger. I winced.
"It's sodium pentothal," he murmured, "and I have no choice in the matter. Geraud will be here in a few minutes, and if not you're acting the part, he'll know something is up. I can't risk not dosing you. If I did, we'd both be up for the chop, and that would make things rather problematic. Good luck, Thirty-Eight."
I had no idea what he was on about, nor could I figure the man out. One minute he was evil, and in the next, he pretended to be my saviour. What was going on here? To make things worse, he already knew far too much about me. Had someone else spilled the beans, or had I been made the second I walked into the building? James had told me Dumortier had contacts everywhere, so it was a possibility. Concentrate, Lois. Remember your strategy for coping with truth serum. I figured I might as well have that thought foremost in my brain as Adie tried to rip me to shreds.
Adie set the briefcase down on the floor and then propped himself on the stool in front of me. He watched me closely for a second or two and then began talking in a muted voice. The microphones would pick up, but the low tone was designed to relax me. He was going to lull me into a false sense of security and then hammer me with questions. Right now, he was biding his time.
“Did you know there is no known way of building up a resistance to truth serum? Thought I’d start our conversation on that optimistic little note, Thirty-Eight.”
I shook my head in response, gearing myself up for the session, although I knew for a fact that what Adie had just said was true. This was for two reasons. The first was because I didn't want to announce to the cameras that I was an assassin from a covert agency – mainly because my life expectancy would then take a rapid nosedive. The second was because James had told me to lie to every question I was asked right from the outset, and hopefully, when my higher cortical brain functioning became impaired, I would continue the trend. It wasn't a great coping strategy, but it was all I had.
"Well, not one that wouldn't end up with a rather disabling addiction, anyway," continued Adie. "Besides, I can't imagine you'd have many friends left if you took this stuff every day. Might be entertaining to watch, though. Maybe I'll have to try that experiment with someone at a later date." He waggled his eyebrows at me mischievously, but I hardly noticed. The first effects of the drug were beginning to take hold, and I was starting to feel a little bit more relaxed, which wasn't hard given what had been happening before. I was also feeling a little light-headed. Shit, shit, shit. I was now also very aware of how attractive I found Alain Dumortier, but perhaps I could use that to my advantage.
"Sodium Pentothal slows the speed at which your brain can work. It's just overpriced alcohol really, but much faster-acting." It was also illegal, but it wasn't going to do my case much good if I mentioned that for the cameras. At all costs, I needed them to believe I was working on my own, and not as part of an agency.
"The drug's been about since Roman times, and many psychiatrists reckon that because lying is more complicated than telling the truth, this drug will have you spilling the beans in no time at all. Let's hope so, anyway. I'm going to be mightily pissed if it takes more than a day to get a full confession out of you, Thirty-Eight. I have plans for this evening." Adie looked at his watch and nodded to himself. This meant he'd allowed enough time for the drug to do what it was supposed to. The fun was about to begin.
"Who do you work for, Thirty-Eight?" He asked the question casually as if we were a pair of friends in a coffee shop discussing the weather. This was designed to put me off guard, but it was unnecessary. The drug had done its work. My body was now feeling pleasantly warm and heavy, and just a little sleepy. That was a frighteningly dangerous combination considering there was a monster sat in front of me.
“Activity Advertising,” I said slowly. Exaggerating the effects of the drug, I slurred a bit. If Adie thought he’d given me more than he should have, with any luck he wouldn’t shoot me up again.
Adie snorted at my answer. “Is that a code name for the office where you work?” Another false smile, while those dark, compelling eyes tried to tease answers out of me.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” I whispered.
Adie sighed and stood up. “Fine, have it your way, Thirty-Eight. I’m just going to get a laptop to corroborate your story, but if I find you have been lying to me at any point, things won’t go well for you. Are you sure you want to play the game this way?” He gave me one final, searing look, and I did my best not to squirm under the heat of his ga
ze.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I whispered, as I let my eyes flutter closed, while my head swayed from side to side.
"Shit, how much of that stuff did I fucking give you?" Adie slapped my face hard, and I jolted upright. "Stay with me, Thirty-Eight. There's not going to be any falling asleep on my watch, okay?" I nodded, eyes blinking furiously as my face smarted cruelly from the brutal slap. The man then turned around and went to fetch his laptop, leaving me all alone in the room. I wondered if Adie had done that on purpose.
My plan wasn’t a great one. Fall over in the chair as hard as I could until the damn thing collapsed. Judging by the broken leg, it wasn't that stable, and I didn't think it would take too much work to rip it apart. After that, I’d hopefully have my arms back. Then I’d need to find something to pick the lock with, and I was optimistic a couple of Adie’s needles might do the trick. While this was a fantastic idea in theory, I needed to remember there were still two guards behind the closed doors, which was my only escape route from the room. While that wouldn't normally have been a problem, it was now that I'd been drugged. All of my reactions would be sluggish and slow, and if I wanted to get out of this building alive, I would need my wits about me. For the moment, I needed to sit tight and work on how I was going to get a weapon.
Closing my eyes again, I waited patiently for Adie's footsteps to return. Already aware I would be earning a stinging slap as soon as he entered, it was a risk I was prepared to take in order to make sure I wasn't double-dosed. My self-imposed nap didn't last long. A few seconds later, my nemesis was back, and I had to try hard not to brace myself for impact.
Sure enough, his hand came flying at me, and my face jolted sideways with the force of the blow.
“Welcome back to the land of the living, Thirty-Eight. Now, what do you do for Activity Advertising?”
I smiled groggily. I was ready for this. "I'm in creative development." I gave him a weak smile. James had made me practise these lies over and over again so that when the time came, I would be ready for them. He'd also made me study every tiny little detail ever written about the company, and Sharkey had provided me with a detailed layout plan of their offices and a picture of where my desk was. The cover this time around was airtight. I just had to be able to lie successfully while under the influence. At the moment, I thought I was doing okay, but time would tell. As the drug began to accumulate in my brain, things might get messy.
"What does that entail, Thirty-Eight?" Adie's face turned towards mine, and he stared at me from beneath lowered lashes. The look was incredibly sexy, and I wanted to eat him. Even now. Go figure.
“I put together the visuals of the ads, for magazines or newspapers. Basically, I work with pretty pictures.” I giggled. “I feel drunk.”
Adie leaned in close to me, so close his lips were nearly touching mine. "I'll let you in on a little secret, Thirty-Eight." I studied his lips and strained forwards in my chair. If I could just touch them, I figured life would be a whole lot better. "That's kind of the idea."
“Kiss me,” I whimpered. Shit. That was the sound of all of my inhibitions flying out of the window. In a minute, I'd probably ask him to slam me against the wall and fuck me, too. Might as well humiliate myself in style, huh?
"Oh, Thirty-Eight." Adie clucked his tongue at me and shook his head. "It's a shame you're such a bad girl. You and I could have had lots of fun together, otherwise."
I frowned petulantly.
“Where are your offices located, Thirty-Eight, and what is your real name?”
My eyes sparkled, and I shook my head cheekily. "Kiss first. Then questions." I giggled some more.
Adie’s face hardened. “Don’t make me slap you again, Thirty-Eight. You don’t want to get on my bad side.”
“I kind of like the slapping,” I said, smiling crookedly, “and I find your bad side utterly fascinating.” Snap out of it, Lois. You’re in lying mode. Try to remember that.
Rolling his eyes heavenward, Adie steepled his fingers over his top lip. Much to my disappointment, I didn’t get my kiss, but then, I didn’t get a slap either.
Moving back to his stool, Adie sighed as he began considering what to do with me. "Tell you what, Thirty-Eight. You answer all of my questions to the best of your ability, and you'll get your kiss at the end. Does that sound fair?"
“Absolutely,” I said breathily, my gaze never leaving his lips.
He winked at me. "Perfect. Now pay attention. Who's your boss?"
"Richard Mullane. He's got bright blond hair, and he's a complete ass," I said, without being prompted. It was another practised lie, and it left my lips effortlessly. These were all questions I was ready for. Problems would arise when Adie issued me with one I hadn't been prepped for. At the moment, my head felt fuzzy and light-headed, and trying to think coherently was becoming increasingly difficult.
“Good to know. Which floor do you work on?”
“The fifth.”
“Where is your desk?”
“Right at the back near the door. The boss likes me to be close to him. His office is just around the corner.”
Adie grinned wryly. “I’ll just bet he does.” He ran a hand through his perfectly styled black hair, before adding, “Do you sleep with him?”
And there it was - the first question I wasn't prepared for. My brain did a little flip flop as it wondered what to do about the situation, but I knew time was of the essence here. I needed to answer fast.
“No.” It didn’t really matter what answer I gave, but the resulting questions from ‘yes’ might be difficult.
"Are you sure?" Adie gave me a sideways glance, but in that time, I'd managed to recover what was left of my wits.
"Yes. He's not into…" My voice trailed off, and my eyes closed again.
“Don’t make me slap you, Thirty-Eight. He’s not into what?” Adie raised his eyebrows and waited for my answer.
It was my turn to dish out the slow, sultry smile. “He’s not into what we’re into.”
Adie raised his head high and then brought it down again in an exaggerated nod. "Is that right? And just what are we into, Thirty-Eight?”
I rolled my eyes at him. “You know…” my hand tried to wave itself around in the air before I realised it was tied behind me, “the kinky stuff.”
“Ahh. That. Have you always been into kinky stuff?”
“No.” Shit. That came out too quickly, and the answer was supposed to be yes. Oops. I would need to be more careful.
“What’s your real name, Thirty-Eight?”
This was the second time he'd asked me that question, but I felt more inclined to answer it this time around. "Lois Reeves." That was another easy lie. It had been my name for the past two years, and if I used it much longer, I might forget my original one. As those thoughts entered my head, there was a tug that nearly made me spill those thoughts out loud, but somehow, I managed to silence it. This was getting more difficult. If I wasn't careful, my mouth was going to run away with me.
“And who do you work for?” Aha. So Adie didn’t believe a word I was saying. That was interesting.
"You've already asked me that question," I said, now slurring. I was not in a good way. I'd had virtually nothing to eat in the last couple of days, very little to drink, and to cap it all - I'd had a shed load of narcotics dumped into me.
“Then answer it again.”
“I work for…” Cellular Operations was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t get the word out because nothing in my body was working as it should. My brain was misfiring, my limbs had gone numb, and everything in front of me went black. I was shutting down.
“Who do you work for, Thirty-Eight?” Adie’s question echoed in my ears, one of the last bodily parts that were still working. I had no way of answering him, though. I was on the way out, and I suspected I wasn’t going to come back for some time, no matter how many times the bastard slapped me.
Chapter Three - Lois
“Why haven’t you wok
en her up?” Geraud’s heated tones began to rouse me from my semi-comatose slumber, but I thought it sensible to pretend otherwise.
"She's not asleep - she's unconscious. We haven't fed her for two days, she's had no fluids, and with the heroin and Pentothal, we've overworked her system. She'll be back in a bit, but if we want her to last through the next few sessions, we're going to need to feed her." I could sense Geraud's fury from where I was standing, and I hadn't even opened my eyes.
"So feed her. Just get some answers. Did you learn anything useful from today's session?" Geraud's foot was tapping against the floor, and it was clear he was very agitated. Adie, on the other hand, sounded as cool as a cucumber.
"She says she works for "Activity Advertising" which is listed on the form. She said that under a good dose of sodium pentothal, so I'm inclined to believe her. Everything Thirty-Eight's said checks out, so either she's who she says she is, or the woman is the best damn female operative I've ever come across."
"She's lying. There's no question she's an operative, and an extremely resourceful one, too." My eyelids flickered, and I watched as Geraud rubbed his neck protectively. "Throw everything you've got at her. Get your knives out. Let her take a polygraph. Hell, you can fuck it out of her for all I care, just make sure the woman talks. We need to know who she's working for. If her agency can get one operative in here, they can get another one in, and the next time there's a good chance they might get the job done."
"Fine. I'll pull out all the stops, but I don't think she's strong enough to survive more than a day, two at most. By the time we factor in blood loss and what my little science kit over there will do to her system, it's very likely I'll kill her before she talks." Adie said his little piece as if I was nothing more than a small bug he'd like to crush under his shoe. There was no emotion in his voice whatsoever at the thought of taking life, and it was apparent I wasn't the first person he'd killed, nor would I be his last.
Flames (A Special Agent Novel Book 3) Page 2
