The Operator
Page 107
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Lips pressed together in annoyance, Helen took a step back when Peri fell and Michael paced onto the platform. It felt as if knives were being slid in and out of her muscles every time she moved. “She won’t flip. Dispose of her,” the woman said, her expression peeved as they both peered down as if Peri were a marvelous bug.
Dispose? Peri blinked, trying to grasp what Helen was saying. She’d found the flaws in Helen’s system, and her reward was to be . . . disposed of? Silas will never let me live this down.
“I regret your sacrifice in the matter,” Helen said, her boots planted firmly in front of Peri’s face. “But I needed to know where the holes were, and you found them.”
“Go . . . to hell,” Peri managed as the platform shook, sending spirals of painful sensation up from where she lay against the wood. Then she screamed, knives stabbing through her when Michael spun her around to cuff her hands behind her, almost passing out when he shoved her back down, hands searching for any lumps or bumps that could mean a weapon.
“You should have done this before she was allowed near you,” the dark man muttered as he found the vial of Evocane and tossed it to Helen when the woman insisted.
“She’s not dangerous unless threatened.” Helen eyed the blue liquid. “And I didn’t threaten her.”
Peri lay on the wooden planking, afraid to move. It felt as if she were breathing glass, each rise and fall of her chest slicing her. It was the drug. She couldn’t draft. She couldn’t move! What the hell is this stuff? Face against the wood, she searched out Michael’s face from the blur. Somehow she managed a grim smile. “You’re afraid of me,” she whispered, and his eyes met hers. “I’m the better agent. Say it.”
He kicked her. Again the knives sliced through her, and she curled into a ball, riding it out, holding her breath until she could get tiny slips of breath into her.
“Michael, you assured me you would practice restraint,” Helen said with a sigh.
“This isn’t restraint, this is common sense. You should kill Denier, too.”
“No, I need him. She found me a better chemist if nothing else. Take Reed somewhere and dispose of her. This as well.”
The clink of the vial hitting Michael’s ring pulled Peri’s attention up, and she looked at his satisfaction through blurry eyes. Thank God I don’t have the accelerator on me.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said enthusiastically as she stood up over Peri. “I’d like to be accelerated first.” He nudged Peri, rolling her over, and she gasped as pinpricks turned to knives. “I might have to kill her twice, and it would be a pleasure to remember both times.”
“No,” Helen said, her disappointment obvious. “I’m suspending the program.”
The dog scrabbled back onto the dock, shaking the water from itself in little drops that burned when they hit Peri. In its mouth was a duck, still alive but dying.
“Suspending? How long?” Michael asked, voice heavy in frustration.
But Helen lavished praise only upon the dog, taking the duck and walking off with it to leave Michael standing over Peri, little pinpricks of pain radiating into her from the vibrations of Helen’s steps.
Peri began to laugh, the sound low, as even that caused pain. Furious, Michael turned to her, the rising sun making his hair into a halo. “What did you say? Why did she end the program?” he snarled, and Peri laughed even more, the sound turning into a guttural groan when his foot lashed out, making shards of broken glass cut into her middle. His foot connected again, and she stared at the sky, breathing them in. They cut her lungs, and she choked, sending more through her as his foot hit a third time.
And finally, she passed out.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FOUR
“Where’s my Evocane!” Peri shouted at the shadowed stacked boxes and clutter just outside her makeshift cell, her forehead pressed against the cool chain links. She knew someone had heard her; voices had gathered behind the windowless steel door. Her pulse raced, and counting herself lucky she was alive, she let herself sink to the frigid cement floor. It was cold, even with the coat Helen had given her, now smeared with old oil and grease. Withdrawal was hours away, but Michael didn’t know that. She just wanted some interaction with someone other than illusionary Jack perched on a stack of boxes on the other side of the fence. She had to discover where she was—and maybe find a way out. “Michael will let you rot in here,” Jack said, giving voice to her darkest fears. “Turn you into his own private Evocane experiment.”
It took everything she had not to fling the bucket she’d found in here at him. “I liked you better when all you did was warn me one of my old boyfriends was in the vicinity.”
Shrugging, Jack tugged down the cuffs of his best Armani suit. Crossing his arms behind his head, he leaned back against the stacked boxes as if settling in to wait. He looked better than good with his clean-shaven cheeks and pressed pants, an illusionary bug-out bag beside him, untouched by the cold. She wondered what it said about her state of mind that he was on the opposite side of the chain-link fence with everything she would ever need to escape—there in his imaginary bag.
I’m not looking for Jack to save me, she thought, though she’d admit that the rush had been real enough when they’d escaped WEFT together. He was a good partner—smart, fast-thinking, versatile, and dependable—apart from the betrayal thing. But even that wouldn’t help her now.
Helen had closed the entire program down. An entire decade of work mothballed because Peri had done her job and found the holes. “That will teach me to be efficient,” she said, looking up at the bank of grimy windows when the gleam of headlights passed across it.
The narrow, high-ceilinged room smelled like oil and hot metal shavings, making her think she was at one of Helen’s shipyards. Boxes and equipment were piled haphazardly against the far wall. She guessed that until recently, everything had all been in the cage, locked up so it wouldn’t wander off with an employee. Her cell might be makeshift, but it was tight.
Frustratingly tight, she thought, tucking her sock feet under her. Someone had taken her boots, and her feet were like ice. Her shooting gloves, too, were gone along with the scarf.
“If I don’t get my Evocane, you’re not going to have much left to interrogate!” she shouted, stiffening when Jack sat up as the metal door screeched open. A dark factory floor was quickly eclipsed by an Asian man in a lab coat.
Dispose? Peri blinked, trying to grasp what Helen was saying. She’d found the flaws in Helen’s system, and her reward was to be . . . disposed of? Silas will never let me live this down.
“I regret your sacrifice in the matter,” Helen said, her boots planted firmly in front of Peri’s face. “But I needed to know where the holes were, and you found them.”
“Go . . . to hell,” Peri managed as the platform shook, sending spirals of painful sensation up from where she lay against the wood. Then she screamed, knives stabbing through her when Michael spun her around to cuff her hands behind her, almost passing out when he shoved her back down, hands searching for any lumps or bumps that could mean a weapon.
“You should have done this before she was allowed near you,” the dark man muttered as he found the vial of Evocane and tossed it to Helen when the woman insisted.
“She’s not dangerous unless threatened.” Helen eyed the blue liquid. “And I didn’t threaten her.”
Peri lay on the wooden planking, afraid to move. It felt as if she were breathing glass, each rise and fall of her chest slicing her. It was the drug. She couldn’t draft. She couldn’t move! What the hell is this stuff? Face against the wood, she searched out Michael’s face from the blur. Somehow she managed a grim smile. “You’re afraid of me,” she whispered, and his eyes met hers. “I’m the better agent. Say it.”
He kicked her. Again the knives sliced through her, and she curled into a ball, riding it out, holding her breath until she could get tiny slips of breath into her.
“Michael, you assured me you would practice restraint,” Helen said with a sigh.
“This isn’t restraint, this is common sense. You should kill Denier, too.”
“No, I need him. She found me a better chemist if nothing else. Take Reed somewhere and dispose of her. This as well.”
The clink of the vial hitting Michael’s ring pulled Peri’s attention up, and she looked at his satisfaction through blurry eyes. Thank God I don’t have the accelerator on me.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said enthusiastically as she stood up over Peri. “I’d like to be accelerated first.” He nudged Peri, rolling her over, and she gasped as pinpricks turned to knives. “I might have to kill her twice, and it would be a pleasure to remember both times.”
“No,” Helen said, her disappointment obvious. “I’m suspending the program.”
The dog scrabbled back onto the dock, shaking the water from itself in little drops that burned when they hit Peri. In its mouth was a duck, still alive but dying.
“Suspending? How long?” Michael asked, voice heavy in frustration.
But Helen lavished praise only upon the dog, taking the duck and walking off with it to leave Michael standing over Peri, little pinpricks of pain radiating into her from the vibrations of Helen’s steps.
Peri began to laugh, the sound low, as even that caused pain. Furious, Michael turned to her, the rising sun making his hair into a halo. “What did you say? Why did she end the program?” he snarled, and Peri laughed even more, the sound turning into a guttural groan when his foot lashed out, making shards of broken glass cut into her middle. His foot connected again, and she stared at the sky, breathing them in. They cut her lungs, and she choked, sending more through her as his foot hit a third time.
And finally, she passed out.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FOUR
“Where’s my Evocane!” Peri shouted at the shadowed stacked boxes and clutter just outside her makeshift cell, her forehead pressed against the cool chain links. She knew someone had heard her; voices had gathered behind the windowless steel door. Her pulse raced, and counting herself lucky she was alive, she let herself sink to the frigid cement floor. It was cold, even with the coat Helen had given her, now smeared with old oil and grease. Withdrawal was hours away, but Michael didn’t know that. She just wanted some interaction with someone other than illusionary Jack perched on a stack of boxes on the other side of the fence. She had to discover where she was—and maybe find a way out. “Michael will let you rot in here,” Jack said, giving voice to her darkest fears. “Turn you into his own private Evocane experiment.”
It took everything she had not to fling the bucket she’d found in here at him. “I liked you better when all you did was warn me one of my old boyfriends was in the vicinity.”
Shrugging, Jack tugged down the cuffs of his best Armani suit. Crossing his arms behind his head, he leaned back against the stacked boxes as if settling in to wait. He looked better than good with his clean-shaven cheeks and pressed pants, an illusionary bug-out bag beside him, untouched by the cold. She wondered what it said about her state of mind that he was on the opposite side of the chain-link fence with everything she would ever need to escape—there in his imaginary bag.
I’m not looking for Jack to save me, she thought, though she’d admit that the rush had been real enough when they’d escaped WEFT together. He was a good partner—smart, fast-thinking, versatile, and dependable—apart from the betrayal thing. But even that wouldn’t help her now.
Helen had closed the entire program down. An entire decade of work mothballed because Peri had done her job and found the holes. “That will teach me to be efficient,” she said, looking up at the bank of grimy windows when the gleam of headlights passed across it.
The narrow, high-ceilinged room smelled like oil and hot metal shavings, making her think she was at one of Helen’s shipyards. Boxes and equipment were piled haphazardly against the far wall. She guessed that until recently, everything had all been in the cage, locked up so it wouldn’t wander off with an employee. Her cell might be makeshift, but it was tight.
Frustratingly tight, she thought, tucking her sock feet under her. Someone had taken her boots, and her feet were like ice. Her shooting gloves, too, were gone along with the scarf.
“If I don’t get my Evocane, you’re not going to have much left to interrogate!” she shouted, stiffening when Jack sat up as the metal door screeched open. A dark factory floor was quickly eclipsed by an Asian man in a lab coat.
