Genecaust

  October, headed for D.C. and on to the holding cell at 39, 000 feet

  Meret had to speak with Granger, but first, she had to check Katya's bindings and meds. The orange and brown glow from the portal hinted of light from the early morning sun, a fulfillment slowed by their rapid westerly flight. Before she could do anything, she needed to loosen the damn flight restraints and get off the narrow gurney the staff so euphemistically referred to as her ‘bed.’

  Careful not to put pressure on her wounded shoulder, she released her bonds and rotated her body so she could lower her legs to the flight deck without using her arms. Sweat poured from her as she dug her toes into the flat carpet and waited for the dizzy spell to pass. Pray God, it did.

  She took two tentative steps and almost pulled over two drip stands and an electronic monitor.

  Shit.

  She slipped the needles from her arm and unplugged the monitors. With at least one hour of battery backup before the monitoring device set off alarms, she had sufficient time to complete her inspection of Katya and retrieve her cell to contact Granger on the other flight.

  The runner lights on the carpet gave off enough ambient light to identify her travel bag on one a leather chair adjacent to her bed. Fighting an impulse to dump the contents of the small conference table, she rummaged through the bag for her phone. Ah. She tapped on Granger’s icon and waited.

  An unexpected face appeared.

  “Who are you?”

  “Dr. Mather, I am Special Agent Hawking’s Nurse Practitioner, Robert. It’s good to see you up and about. Are you calling about him?”

  God. Of course that’s why I’m calling. What else should have been the first question on her lips? Between her pain and her concern, she put her sarcasm aside with some difficulty. “How is he?”

  The nurse said, “He seems okay. Do you want me to wake him?”

  Damn.

  She wanted to question him and gage his state of mind. That bitch could have planted a complex ‘mind fuck’ behaviors in him as long ago as Yemen when she had total access to him in that high rise near Aden. Remembering Henri’s fears, her breath hitched and her heart pumped double-time. Panic swept through her. She knew Katya only needed a brief word or touch to activate one or more of his learned behaviors. Which behavior had she set in motion during their struggle in the airport?

  Of course, the one to kill her.

  “No. Don’t wake him. Sleep is good for him. My plane is scheduled to arrive six hours before Granger’s. When he wakes, tell him our prisoner is in one piece, restricted, and medicated. And, Robert, this is the important part. Do not . . . not let Special Agent Hawking speak to Katya. Keep her sedated. And until I evaluate him and her, they are to be well separated. Got it?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Tell me when he wakes and I’ll relay the message to him myself. He is not to talk to the prisoner. Got that? All of it?”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” he repeated.

  Suppose Robert hadn’t been read in on the dangers of being in the same room with Katya. Maybe he didn’t realize how critical her message was. Meret said, “Katya cannot be allowed to influence others. Understood? Repeat what I said.”

  Robert didn’t hesitate. “Yes, ma’am. Katya cannot be allowed to influence others. Special Agent Fairchild is awake now.”

  After a brief moment, Steve’s face appeared.

  “Meret, you’re up. How—”

  “Steve.” Her heart rate slowed and she found enough saliva to swallow normally. “It is good to see your face.” He was an ally and the friend she needed. “Katya's meds need to be constantly monitored until we can get her into a secure cell. I especially want to keep her ‘no-speak' virus levels intact. Anyone, I repeat, anyone, working with her must not be touched. I'm not suggesting HAZMAT suits, but keep the restraints on her. If your flight lands first, go directly to her ‘cage,’ which has been designed according to my instructions. Don't wait for me. I'll be there as soon as possible.”

  Steve snorted. “Nice description of Katya's padded room. The staff already calls it ‘the litter box.’ ”

  Too stressed to laugh, Meret said, “Have you seen Granger? How does he seem to you? Have you talked to him?”

  “Considering the bullet to his shoulder, he is doing well physically. I’m not sure about his mental condition. We can’t evaluate his mind until he wakes up.”

  “Of course. He probably saved my life when he took the bullet through his shoulder before it passed through mine. I’d like to place him in a room where he can see Katya through a one-way mirror. I think he would appreciate all he would learn about her as a witness to watch her re-conditioning. I hope to hell it will help us remove her influence over him.”

  * * *

  Steve met Meret’s plane and they followed Katya’s entourage to a dark CIA warehouse somewhere in Washington. After parking five stories underground in a private car park, he led the agents and Katya’s medical team through a long dark corridor in the basement. “This elevator is the only entrance to the next area,” Steve said, “and it is controlled and monitored remotely.” They entered and a few floors down, the elevator door opened to a short concrete corridor that approached a holding area. A voice in the ceiling told them they were recognized and cleared to continue, Meret and Steve stepped apart allowing the medical team to move Katya's gurney inside.

  Katya’s ‘litter box’ was a basic white cube that was completely padded, including the ceiling. Exceptions were made for the large eight by sixteen foot one-way viewing window and a few unmarked padded interior doors.

  The eight-person medical team worked with an equal number of security personnel to deliver a host of electronic medical monitors and supplies. While the medical team remained in Katya’s room to install and network the electrical equipment, the security team positioned the gurney next to a plastic bed with no sharp corners and prepared Katya for a safe transfer. In a semi-conscious state, Katya, continually struggled with her restraints. An occasional random scream of fury interrupted her incoherent mumbling.

  Meret eyed several workers wheeling in a dentist chair. “That’s a creepy portent, if I ever saw one.”

  “For sure, but it is destined for the center area where it can be seen from every patient’s room.” Dr. Evans said. He extended his arm and handed her a small remote device. “Open the smart window-mirror and see for yourself.”

  She took it without comment. It had one button. Meret aimed at the mirror and pressed it. “Ah, transparent.” She pressed it again and it turned opaque. With a third press of her thumb, it returned to its mirror state. “Am I right to assume this is a one-way mirror from the other side” She handed it to Nurse Robert who repeated her discovery.

  Evans smiled. “Leave it on opaque, Robert.” Then to both he said, “There’s a hidden button on the bottom that controls the room’s audio. We’ll go over that once security hooks up the room to their control center.”

  Dr. Evans returned to examine a a monitor and Meret, standing by Steve, asked, “Do you have her wearing the required gear?”

  “Like the ear plugs?” Steve pointed at Katya’s bed in her room. “She can't hear, and the blindfold prevents her from seeing. Her mouth has an insert so she can’t make a complete bite. There is a spit mask under her pillow. Katya’s in a world of her own and truth be known, I, for one, hope it’s the hell it appears to be. She deserves nothing less. How long ‘til she comes out of the induced . . . what? Sleep?”

  Meret pointed to the drip line in Katya’s arm. “Can you see it from here? The staff will use that to control her level of consciousness.

  Steve motioned to the medical team “Make sure she’s strapped down good then reorient her bed so her feet point toward her mirror so we can see her face.”

  Meret said, “What’s the rest of this place like? This room is impressive, but what about the others?”

  “While the medical team completes Katya’s transfer to her hospital bed and sets the monitors up
, I'll give you a quick overview.” He used the remote to set the mirror to transparent and raised his chin toward the ceiling “Full lights in the interrogation room above.”

  The transparent mirror revealed two men completing the instillation of the dentist chair to the center white cube. Steve continued. “The entire holding area is a large square composed of nine identical cubes. Arranged like a tic-tac-toe board, each room modified for a special use. You have already seen a patient’s room and now the main central interrogation room. The floor is entirely surrounded by a hallway with one entrance to each side room. The four corner rooms, designed for interrogation, have no windows. We're in one of the four side rooms with viewing windows that display the center treatment room and its special interrogation procedures.”

  “Special? As in extreme?” Meret shivered. This could get brutal. Would the end justify the means? Time was slipping by and they still didn’t know.

  Just make her talk, Lord. Please make her talk. We must learn her special words.

  Steve nodded. “Complete with crash carts. We don’t want her dying on us. We need her. All rooms have video and audio monitors hidden in ceiling corners running twenty-four seven by agents who control access to every area.” Steve tapped on the window with the knuckle of his index finger and waved his fingers across his neck.

  Their window went dark.

  Meret said, “Your cut signal was seen by one of the monitors?”

  He nodded. “Right. Anyone in here is monitored and recorded twenty-four seven.”

  She eyed the dentist chair again and countless horror movie scenes moaned through her mind. She vowed never to watch another one as long as she lived. Unnerving.

  Steve looked up and spoke to an unseen regulator. “Central room lights on. Room five, window transparent.” Then he pointed to the window directly across the central area and paused for her reaction before saying, “Number three, transparent, lights on.”

  The sight of another white room outfitted almost identical to Katya’s room, appeared. Her cell vibrated and she took the call.

  “Robert?

  “We just touched down. I’ll be there with Granger within the hour.”

  Thank, god. She needed him. She needed to see him. She needed to touch him. Would she be allowed to touch him? She didn’t know. What had Katya done to him? Please God, let him be all right. That goddamn bitch. “Thank you, Robert.”

  She glanced at Steve and then to a room with an empty bed across the central area. A cold chill of dark portent engulfed her. She knew his treatment would be nothing like Katya’s but the environment and proximity made her apprehensive.

  Meret turned to Katya’s hospital bed where the bitch struggled with her restraints, raging at her inability to get free. Meret wanted to pound the woman into a bloody pulp. She wanted to string her up by her thumbnails. She wanted to shoot her at point blank range Dear, god. She smacked her palm on her forehead. When had she gotten so blood thirsty?

  She wrapped a corner of the bed sheet over her hand and index finger so as not to make contact with the prisoner and tapped her on the shoulder When Katya stopped thrashing, Meret jerked her hand back but otherwise stood motionless at Katya’s failed attempt to bite it. When Katya screamed again in fury, Meret said, “The mouth guard isn’t comfortable? Sorry for you.” Yes, sarcasm dripped off every word. If she had her way, it would be some kind of torture device that hurt like hell. “Sorry you can’t bite us.” She turned back to Steve.

  “Were you able to make the special arrangements I requested?”

  “Um, ah . . .”

  “Steve?’

  “Davies balked at your requests.” A small smile flashed across his face. “That is, until I reminded him Katya is planning the execution of the President, Vice President, his cabinet and two hundred select members of Congress. That gave him pause. Then I added, not to mention she was responsible for the systematic murder of one thousand five-hundred women and girls. I also reminded him that what you propose for Katya is temporary and will grow back or be replaced.”

  “Don’t tell me it was the care of Katya that convinced him?”

  His loud snort, “Hardly.” expressed her feelings as well. “No, not that. He just needed time to process your interrogation plan.”

  Meret lifted her chin in agreement and glared at Katya’s writhing form and hissing attempts to speak. Keeping her eye on her prisoner, she called out to the lead physician. “We’re gonna need a spit bag on her before we remove her blindfold so we stay dry and uncontaminated. Here are my requirements. I just received clearance from the Director to implement them ASAP.” She handed him a small card. “These will aid our efforts to extract information from her. Remember what’s at stake for the Homeland. We must complete this interrogation in seven days. She’s all we’ve got to shut this horror down. If don’t find out exactly how and when Katya is planning this attack, and prevent it, our country, as we know it, will disappear.”

  The physician’s eyes got big and his brows about hit the ceiling when he read the card, but he schooled his expression fast and asked no questions “We can do this. I’ll get to work on this list ASAP.” He gathered his medical team to a corner to discuss the necessities.

  Meret walked to the exit door and waited for a monitor to let her out. “Gotta go, Steve.”

  Steve caught up to her in the hallway. “Whoa, what’s next on your agenda and what was on the card?”

  “Sorry, we didn't discuss my plan for interrogating Katya sooner. I never counted on Granger getting shot. Using a gun isn't her style.” Lord, she was so worried about him. “A knife is more her way. Once my requirements for Katya's interrogation were approved by Director Davies, my concerns were all for Granger His nurse just texted their flight landed and they will be bringing him here within the hour.” She put her hand on Steve’s shoulder. “I know the attack on the Homeland is my priority, but I'm afraid that bitch mind-fucked Granger and if we can't undo that, from what I have learned about deep conditioning, he might have to spend the rest of his life in a padded cell just like her.”

  “That’s not going to happen,”

  She walked faster. “The medical team is prepping Katya for immediate interrogation.” She stopped and turned to face him. “Katya must see this is the end for her . . . and any escape or suicide is not an option for her. She is completely ours and forever trapped. First, we remove suicide as a way-out. She will be de-clawed and must learn there are only two ways to endure. And both are complete cooperation. While she’s sedated, her hair will be shaved off and her fingernails and toenails will be removed to their beds. Oh yeah, and her teeth will be extracted.”

  70

  The Real Reality

  October, D.C. Blacksite - the CIA’s hidden Litter Box for Katya.

  “So now what?” Special Agent Steve Fairchild stepped back and drilled Meret with an inquisitive glare. “You have the Director’s permission to mutilate and torture Katya. It seems extreme.”

  Meret pressed the heels of her palms to her forehead and slowly shook her head. She could taste anger in her mouth. “Prisoners have been known to use their nails, hair, and teeth to kill, to commit suicide, or escape. Katya will not be one of those.” She lifted her head in defiance. “Katya’s history gives us no choice in our treatment of her.”

  Steve reached out for her.

  Meret's palms twisted into fists and she pounded his chest knocking him backward. “She gives us no fucking choice.”

  Steve raised his open palms and backed away. Seeing his startled reaction, Meret dropped her arms and covered her mouth with her hands, choking back a sob.

  “Steve . . . Katya mind-fucked Granger. She mind-fucked him and lord knows how many other people. She’s dangerous in ways we can’t even see. We have no way of knowing who else she's conditioned. Who else she’s embedded with behaviors . . . hidden behind . . . closed memories . . . waiting for a touch, a word, an odor . . . waiting to be unleashed.” She stepped toward him, and he retreate
d.

  She slumped with raised hands in surrender. “All my physical procedures on Katya are reversible. But meanwhile, the no-speak meds make her powerless. By removing her nails, her hair, and teeth, she has no control over her body, She is powerless to hurt herself or anyone, or anything. Once her twisted brain accepts that she has lost all control, her only escape is compliance or suicide. “ She opened her hands and pleaded, “Don't you see? She gives me . . . us . . . no choice.”

  Her phone vibrated and she blinked. “They must be bringing in Granger.”

  Steve’s cell rang, too. “We're to meet them by the elevator.”

  Meret chewed her thumbnail, something she never did. Would Granger recognize her? Would he try to kill her? Was there unexpected damage to his arm and shoulder? She glanced at Steve. Neither spoke.

  The elevator door dinged, Granger and his medical team and security escort filled the hallway. He lay asleep. She knew what ever was in the IV drip line kept him unconscious. “How long has he been sleeping?”

  “Two days but whenever he wakes, he tries to rip off his PIC line. We’ve tried to wean him off his meds, but it’s been difficult to find the right dose.”

  She placed her hand on Granger’s forearm. It was strong and warm. “He’s got restraints. Does he fight them? Has he spoken?”

  Robert flicked a finger on Granger’s drip line. “A bit of both. Is his room ready?”

  Meret led Granger's entourage through the padded white room directly into the interrogation room. It had four observation windows and a collection of intimidating interrogation tools. Inside they passed several small tables, and a crash cart before wheeling around a modified dentist's chair that would serve as Katya's interrogation seat.

  She pointed to the window on the right. “That's Katya' room.” She raised her chin to the left. “That one is Granger’s. His bed is positioned so he can observe her interrogation. Both rooms are ICU compliant. We can handle any emergency.”