The Operator

by Kim Harrison

  For a long moment they stared at each other, Michael off balance and unable to pull away until Bill shoved him stumbling back. Across the room, Jack waited, poised for anything. “Enough,” Bill said. “You are not getting accelerated until I know it works. So you’d better hope we find her.”

  Anger made the scratch under Michael’s eye stand out. “You have no intention of accelerating me. Admit it.”

  “I own you,” Bill said, feeling his face warm. “I found you in that putrid, stinking mental hospital. I stopped the electroshock treatments. I dried you out from the drugs. I made your priors go away. I gave you everything you wanted.”

  “Except this.”

  “Don’t make a mistake you won’t walk away from. You need me, Kord,” Bill intoned, pulling hard on his ugly past and hammering it against Michael’s fear of making a mistake, a mistake that others could see and judge him a fool for. The anxiety was deep and ingrained, and the best way to manipulate the unpredictable man. “Peri will come home. What happens then is still open.” He hesitated, backing off a step. “Understand?”

  Michael’s eyes dropped, and again in charge, Bill forced himself to his usual calm. From the corner, Jack exhaled. It had been chancy, but the altercation had bought him a few more days for Michael to stew before reaching his breaking point.

  Satisfied, Bill leaned to look Allen eye to swollen eye, and the bound man jerked when Bill brushed a sweat-clumped strand of hair away. “You said she won’t come back? Allen, we both know Denier is good, but he will need at least two years to reverse-engineer it, and that’s assuming he can find the right equipment, which he won’t. In a week, she’ll be out of Evocane,” Bill said softly. “Slavering on the floor and in the throes of withdrawal. A day later, if she doesn’t die of dehydration or stroke, she’ll begin to hallucinate. Really bad hallucinations, nothing pleasant or nice, like unicorns and rainbows. Shortly after that, you’ll have to put her in a vulnerable, medically induced coma to keep her from trying to meet her maker from the thirty-fourth floor. I think she’ll choose the alternative and come . . . see . . . me.” He hesitated. “Our Peri is stubborn, not stupid.”

  Bill straightened to his full height, pleased to see Michael’s anger soften at the reminder of what waited for an accelerated drafter caught without his Evocane. With repeated exposure, the painful withdrawal symptoms would turn into a death sentence. Allen said nothing, his breathing giving away his fear.

  “Good morning, Allen,” Bill said conversationally, relishing that he was taller than anyone in the room apart from Michael. “Did you really think we didn’t know who you were all those years ago?” Turning to Jack, he inclined his head in invitation. “Save me the trouble of looking at the transcripts. What else has he told you?”

  The rims of Jack’s ears were red. “Just what you already know. She’s aligned herself with WEFT in a bid for the labs to make Evocane. Headman is Steiner. No one there can draft or anchor. They think that’s where the corruption started.”

  “That’s a laugh,” Michael said, sifting through the tray of drugs stacked atop the filthy Shop-Vac.

  “Denier has full lab access,” Jack said, clearly not liking Michael shuffling about with the vials and syringes. “He’s not told me everything, but I’ve not forced it.”

  Syringe in hand, Michael turned, apparently eager to fix that.

  Irritation filled Bill. “I’m doing this,” he muttered as he took it away. “Back off.”

  Allen’s jaw clenched, but he did little as Bill swabbed his inside elbow of his bound arm and injected it. A weird, thin-lipped, wild-eyed expression slipped over the captive man even as the drug took him, slowing his breathing and making his clenched hands ease.

  “He’s been conditioned to keep his mouth shut against that,” Jack said flatly.

  Michael jumped, startled when Bill’s hand flashed out, slapping Allen’s face with an unexpected crack. Shock crossed Allen, then hatred.

  “That’s why I use it in tandem with a secondary method,” Bill said softly. “Michael, you’re like a dog under the table. Back off before you fuck this up, too. There are ways to get people to talk other than assassinating their team.”

  Feet scuffing, Michael retreated.

  “Now.” Bill swung the room’s only free chair around, straddling it so the back was between him and Allen. “What I really want to know—the reason you’re here instead of a ditch to be found by an early-morning jogger—is why was she at Everblue?”

  Allen glanced at Jack before fixing on Bill with his unswollen eye. “I don’t know.”

  Bill hit him again, this time using a fist. Allen’s head rocked back, and Bill reached out, yanking him forward before the chair could tip over, smacking him lightly to make sure he didn’t pass out. “Hey. Hey! Over here, Allen. Focus now.”

  Allen twitched, shrugging to get Bill’s hand off him. He spat out blood; the ugly sound of it meeting the cement floor was oddly familiar. “Hitting me won’t make me talk,” he rasped.

  Bill’s face was expressionless. “I’m not hitting you to make you talk. I’m hitting you because you thought I was stupid.” Thick fingers moving with a slow precision, Bill took a bottled water from the tray. “What was Peri doing at Everblue?” he said as he dropped a straw into it and held it to Allen. “Did she demand to be there? Is she wanting to come home?”

  Allen looked up from the straw, still too far away. “You don’t think the half dozen of your hired men she left for dead are enough of a no?”

  Bill held it so he could drink. “She’s angry with me. She’s expressing herself.”

  Licking his lips, Allen drew back from the water. “Peri will die before returning to Opti.”

  “Then it’s a good thing she can reset time to make a better decision.” It was closed and uncomfortable, and the silence grew. Bill set the water back on the tray. “Why was she there, Allen?”

  Twitching impatiently, Michael stepped forward. Breath fast, he grabbed the expended syringe and used his weight to push Allen’s head back. Jack’s breath hissed in, but he didn’t move as Bill was forced to rise and his chair was knocked over.

  “Michael,” Bill complained, willing to give Michael a little release as he leaned heavier into Allen, lips pulled into a grimace.

  “Know what happens when you shove a needle into someone’s frontal cortex?” Michael said, angling the syringe to Allen’s nose. “You wiggle it around enough, and it mimics a lobotomy enough to pass inspection.”

  “He knows he’s more useful alive, Michael,” Bill said. “Knock it off.”

  “He doesn’t need an eye to be alive.” Michael shifted the angle of the needle. “How about it, Allen? You want to keep both of them?”

  Swollen eye slitted in fear, Allen exclaimed, “Why do you care?”

  Michael tightened his grip when Bill leaned in so close he could smell the drugs lifting off the man’s skin. “You always did have a way with the anchors,” Bill said to soothe the man’s ego after the beating he’d given it. “Answer him,” Bill said to Allen. “Why was she there?”

  The man’s fear was obvious, and Michael’s hold became white-knuckled. Allen was fixated on the end of the needle, and when Michael moved it, he shouted, “She’s after Michael!”

  Bill made a knowing sound. Finding insult in it, Michael pressed down again. “Me?” he snarled, angling the syringe into Allen’s nostril. “You think I’ll believe that?”

  “Enough!” Bill exclaimed. “If you give him a lobotomy, I swear I’ll shoot you to get you to draft and bring you both back to usefulness. Back off, Michael.”

  Lip curled, Michael pushed off from Allen, throwing the syringe onto the tray where it slid into Allen’s phone and wallet and stopped. Jack stood in a corner, grim-faced and silent.

  “That’s just odd enough to be true.” Bill lifted Allen’s good eyelid to gauge the level of drug in him. “Peri is nothing if not vindictive. Both her strength and weakness. Which is it, Allen? Pretend you’re on our side ag
ain and you might live out the night.”

  Allen’s eyes flicked to Michael, then back to Bill. “Steiner is mopping up, bringing in drafters in hiding. Michael is their biggest annoyance right now.”

  Bill rubbed his stubble to hide his smile as Michael’s expression darkened. “And in exchange for her help,” Bill guessed, “she gets lab access to reverse-engineer the Evocane that will make her their slave instead of my drafter?”

  It had taken him five years to perfect Evocane. Denier picking it apart before Peri ran out was not going to happen. He had to convince her to come home. Five doses of Evocane would make it addictive enough that to go without might cause heart failure. But it was more than her risking death that bothered him. He’d promised her that he’d never let her need. He wanted her to come back because this was where she belonged, because of the thrill she got being who she was—not the need. Getting a larger stash of Evocane to her would prove his word was good and begin to rebuild her trust. She had trusted him once. She would again.

  “She thinks she can bring me in?” Michael said, frowning when Bill chuckled.

  “She doesn’t care, but the CIA does, and that’s who she’s playing for right now.” Bill inspected Allen’s phone and turned it on, sighing at the small icons he’d have to manage. “Peri is simply exploring the viability of a second source of Evocane.” He frowned at the password prompt. “That’s why she’s helping the government. We can make that work for us. If she wants you, let’s give her a shot at you. She’ll show, even knowing it’s a trap. Especially if Evocane and Allen are in the mix.”

  Michael’s head was down, hiding his expression, but Bill could guess at it. Finding a stylus, Bill typed in 1997 for the password, which was denied. Not your birth year, then. “By tomorrow, we’ll know if she’s going to reject the Evocane, and if not, we move forward.”

  “Rejection?” Jack said. “There was nothing about rejection in the lab reports.”

  Bill tried again, this time using the last four digits of Allen’s Social Security number, failing. “They vary from individual to individual,” he said, trying a variant of Allen’s birthday using the month and day, getting nowhere. “We’ve been tweaking to minimize them. Why do you think I’m trying to get her back?”

  Allen pulled his head up, a new worry giving him strength. “What kind of rejection?”

  Not wanting the phone to lock up, Bill gave it a rest. “Sometimes a sound or light sensitivity develops,” he said, wanting Michael to have a doubt or two—seeing as the med wing full of comatose ex-Opti drafters wasn’t enough. “It manifests as an avoidance of crowds or a lowered sensation limit. If it is too extensive, the agent has limited use. Occasionally Evocane will cause an increase in aggression, either sexually, which can be addressed, or more typically, as a short temper and inability to trust, even people he or she has in the past.”

  “Paranoia,” Jack said, frowning.

  “Sometimes there’s an unusual salt craving,” Bill added.

  “Salt?” Allen echoed, clearly surprised.

  Bill nodded, satisfied at Michael’s attentive silence. “Upon occasion, Evocane causes an imbalance in the cellular ion exchange. They end up jerking uncontrollably, but we usually see the salt craving within the first few days. We can ask her the next time we see her.” He smiled, suddenly realizing what Allen’s password was, and punching in 2024, the year Allen and Peri had met. Sure enough, the phone lit up. “Why don’t we do that now? She’s probably in a van somewhere with nothing to do.”

  “You son of a bitch,” Allen whispered, and Michael leaned closer, clearly trying to see the number. “She’s better than a damn guinea pig, and you know it.”

  Of course he knew it. They all knew it. But Michael was getting too close to the truth for his liking. “Peri, Peri, Peri,” Bill said softly as he scrolled through Allen’s phone. “Ah, here she is. Let’s give her a ring,” he said, delighting when Allen’s expression went from anger to fear.

  The line clicked open. “Allen?” came her voice, and Bill beamed.

  “Hi, kiddo,” Bill said pleasantly as he put the phone on speaker. “No, don’t hang up. Allen is here. Allen, say something so Peri knows I’m being honest.”

  Smiling, Bill held the phone to Allen, but he stayed predictably silent, eyes glaring past the swelling and bruises.

  “Go on,” Bill encouraged, and Michael ominously slid a syringe off the tray.

  “Trust Silas, Peri,” Allen rasped. “He won’t let you go insane.”

  Peeved, Bill drew the phone away. “He won’t mean to, I’m sure,” he said to Peri. “But we all know Denier’s track record. He won’t make it in time, and it’s going to hurt if you go without. It’s more addictive than the high of running a task, and you’ve been fixed on that a long time. You don’t know how to go without.”

  “If you hurt Allen—” came faintly, and Bill chuckled.

  “You’ll what?” Bill said flatly, humor gone. “Hunt me to the ends of the earth? I’ve hurt him. I’m going to hurt him some more if the mood strikes me. But there’s an alternative. Are you alone? Are you listening?”

  Allen’s breathing was harsh in the sudden silence, and then her hesitant “Yes.”

  “Good,” Bill said dryly, watching Michael for his reaction. “I’m willing to give you a vial of Evocane for your continued health. I’ll even throw in Allen to prove my sincerity. You’re going to need the Evocane to have any chance of keeping WEFT in the dark about your new addiction.” He waited, letting that sink in. “I’ll send Michael with them if that will make you feel more comfortable. You can be wired. You can even bring someone. I don’t care. I simply want to impress you with the knowledge that your way home is already open.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Peri said, and Michael nodded, inching closer.

  “I don’t need to lie to you anymore.” Bill pushed Michael away with a stiff finger. “You deserve to be your own anchor. I respect you. I always have. I wouldn’t lie to you now even if it was to my benefit. You won’t need an anchor, but someone to watch your back is prudent. Jack is here. Right next to me. You worked well together. He doesn’t have to lie to you anymore, either.” He hesitated. “Or you can spend the next week trying to hide from WEFT that you are a flight risk and liability. Tell me where and when. Michael will bring Allen and a vial of Evocane. Two vials.”

  “Detroit. Tomorrow, ten p.m. A casino. You choose which one,” she said tersely.

  Bill’s smile widened, proud of his creation. Letting him decide the final destination was to stymie anyone who might be listening in at her end. “Then I choose the abandoned mall at the arena. Say . . . outside the old Waldenbooks? Three a.m.”

  Her scoff was laced with a hidden fear. “Midnight. Before I go into withdrawal,” she demanded. With the time shift from St. Louis to Detroit, her withdrawal would set in at about one in the morning, EST, but Peri was never one to take a needless chance.

  “Midnight it is,” he agreed, not surprised.

  The click as Peri ended the connection was obvious. Michael rocked back, his thoughts clear to Bill. Jack saw it, too, his blue eyes almost black in worry. Not yet, Michael. I will keep you alive a little longer.

  “We’re going to snag her, yes?” Michael asked, and Bill gave him a sidelong look.

  “To do otherwise would rob us of our test subject,” he lied, but by Jack’s downcast expression, Bill knew Jack at least understood. He didn’t have to snag her. Peri was already his. To treat her with anything other than dignity and respect would be counterproductive at this point. She’d come in when she was ready, and until then, he’d keep her in Evocane.

  Michael eased back, his eyes on Allen’s phone as Bill rolled it up around the stylus and tucked it back in his suit’s inside pocket. “And you’re sending me to bring her in?” Michael prompted, and Bill tugged the sleeves of his jacket straight, eager to get a very late supper.

  “Because you’re the one she wants.” Bill knocked for the guard to open the
door, gesturing for Michael to go first when the heavy steel creaked open. “You won’t be carrying anything other than sugar water. Go take a shower. I’m not flying back to Detroit with you stinking like blood and piss.”

  No emotion on his face to give away his thoughts, Michael strode out of the makeshift cell, his steps quickly going faint. The limp, Bill realized, was almost gone.

  Jack exhaled long and slow. He gave Allen a last glance before following Bill out. “That was fun,” he said as the guard shut and locked the door behind them. “You do know he’s going to try to kill her the next time he sees her.”

  The still air of the warehouse felt indescribably airy after the dead reek of the maintenance closet. “I’m counting on it,” he said, attention rising to the flash of light and boom of sound as the outer door opened and closed as Michael left. “I wouldn’t put him and Peri in the same building right now, much less give him access to Evocane. That’s why you’re going to take it to her, not Michael. If we’re lucky, she’ll chuck it all and come back with you right then and there.” But he knew that was unlikely. Peri had trusted Jack once and had been betrayed. She wouldn’t again.

  Even so, Jack’s posture eased, and Bill allowed himself a smile in the dark. He knew his people better than they knew themselves. “Thank you,” Jack almost breathed.

  “You’re welcome,” Bill said as he buttoned his jacket closed, but what he meant was, I own you.

  CHAPTER

  THIRTEEN

  The St. Louis med facility smelled like Opti, the air having an earthy, antiseptic, ozone-tainted breath about it. She was fairly certain she’d never been to the St. Louis branch, but the low ceiling and indirect light of the med room made it both familiar and foreboding. At four in the morning, it was all but empty, the argument between Harmony and Steiner in the next bay obvious as the lab tech cleaned a leg scrape she didn’t remember getting. Her good right leg dangled over the edge as she held her left still. It was a good setup with the four bays for outpatient surgery and stabilizing trauma—sufficient to get a bullet out or stop massive bleeding without necessitating a hospital record.