Powerhouse

by Rebecca York

  “Yes,” Matt admitted.

  “You were taken when you were twelve?”

  “Yeah. You know an awful lot about me.”

  “We have some of Sykes’s records. Your case is one of the ones that appeared in the files.”

  He forced himself to keep silent. He was here to get information, not to reveal how much this place was spooking him.

  “Would you like a tour?” Owens asked, and Matt struggled to hear him over the ringing in his ears.

  “We’re hoping you can help us find our son,” Shelley broke in. “Yes. Trevor.” Owens looked from one of them to the other. “Your son was born after the two of you broke up.” He turned to Matt. “And you didn’t know about the boy until Ms. Young came to you a couple of days ago.”

  “That’s right,” Matt snapped.

  “How did you feel about that?”

  “I was shocked at first. Then I knew I would do everything in my power to help Shelley find Trevor.”

  “That’s very noble of you.”

  “Noble?” That was an odd way to put it. “Are you a parent?” Matt asked, still fighting to keep his voice even.

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Then you wouldn’t understand.”

  “Mmm. I’d like to show you around,” Owens said, firmly changing the subject. Apparently it was okay to pry into Matt and Shelley’s personal lives, but not into the agent’s.

  Their footsteps echoed hollowly in the dimly lit corridors as Owens led them further into the mountain.

  The perfect prison, Matt thought. No windows, and only one exit that was easily guarded.

  He wished he could use his talent on this guy to pry some information out of him, but he suspected Owens would be ready for that. If he’d read Matt’s file, he would know what to guard against.

  They came to a place where water seeped through a crack in the ceiling, leaving a stain down the wall and on the floor. Had it been in disrepair when Sykes had used it? Or was it not being maintained now?

  “These rooms are where the staff slept,” Owens said, leading them down a side corridor with more doors on either side. Matt opened a door and saw a room that wasn’t much more appealing than the cell that he remembered. It had a narrow bed, a dresser and a closet. At the end of the hallway was a lounge furnished with stiff-looking sofas and chairs.

  “Not very comfortable,” Shelley murmured.

  Owens didn’t comment.

  “Is this a hardship assignment?” she asked.

  He shrugged.

  They retraced their steps, then went on to new territory. Owens showed them the laboratories, which had been full of equipment when Matt had been there. Now the rooms were empty. Still, he could remember the old setup with a clarity he wished he could dull.

  The next stop was the cell block. When he saw the small rooms with metal doors and viewing windows, he fought a wave of nausea.

  Shelley moved beside him and took his arm. “You remember this?” she murmured.

  “Yeah.” To prove to himself that he could do it, he pulled open one of the doors and stepped into the tiny cell. When he’d been here before, the room had been brightly lit, but the lights were dimmed now, probably to conserve energy.

  He looked around at the bunk, the toilet, the sink. Almost like a prison.

  Fighting a feeling of claustrophobia, he stepped into the hall and took a deep breath of the dank air.

  He wanted to ask if all of the subjects had survived the experiments, but he knew that if Owens gave him the wrong answer, it would be devastating to Shelley. Instead he asked, “How many subjects did Sykes work on?”

  “At least fifty that we know about.”

  “Over what period?”

  “More than twenty years.”

  Matt nodded. He wanted to get out of here, but he couldn’t cut the visit short until they got what they were here for—information about Trevor.

  “If this place is so well guarded, how did I get away?” he asked.

  Owens stopped walking and turned to him. “That’s one of the interesting things in the files. As you know, Sykes discovered that the younger an individual, the better the result when they activated the I gene.”

  “Yeah.”

  Owens continued in a flat voice. “After the enhancing treatment, he released certain subjects so they could go back into the world and breed—thus providing him with a fresh group of youngsters to work with.”

  As the words penetrated Matt’s brain, he stumbled and would have fallen if he hadn’t caught himself with a hand against the wall.

  “Excuse me?” he said.

  “You were released as a breeder. Sykes wanted you to have children, so he could experiment on them.”

  Shelley gasped. “But it’s a recessive gene. He’d need a mother who also carried the I gene.”

  “True. I believe he had various ways of checking the general population. In college, did you participate in any blood drives?”

  “Yes,” she answered.

  “Sykes arranged for several colleges and universities to test for the I gene during student blood drives.”

  Her face had hardened. “That’s…unethical.”

  “The whole experiment was unethical. That never dissuaded him. He had a series of experiments he wanted to perform, and he was going to carry them out, no matter what the cost to any individual.” Owens gave her a speculative look. “You went to work for Matt as an accountant after you graduated from college. How did you happen to meet him?”

  “Through the college job center. I went there at the end of my senior year, looking for suitable employment.” Her gaze turned inward. “The man who interviewed me encouraged me to apply for a position at Matt’s ranch.” She sucked in a sharp breath and let it out. “Are you saying the college job center was in on the…conspiracy?”

  “It would seem so. Or they had someone from the project working in the office. If he got an applicant with the I gene, he matched them up with someone else who had the gene. If he could, of course.”

  Matt couldn’t hold back a curse. He’d known that he’d been used for unethical purposes; he hadn’t known Shelley had also been manipulated into getting together with him—so they could produce a child who would fit the specifications for the project.

  “After you left the ranch, they obviously kept tabs on you,” Owen added helpfully.

  “Wait a minute,” Matt growled. “Let me get this straight. If Sykes is no longer working for the government, who’s funding him?”

  “As far as we can tell, a group called the Association.”

  “And who the hell are they?” Matt snapped.

  “They’re made up of representatives from several foreign governments who are interested in his enhancement techniques. We know that much, but not who they are because they are determined to protect their identities at all costs. They want the benefits of Sykes research, and they’re willing to pay for it, but they’re not willing to have anyone know they’re funding him.”

  Matt spent a few seconds processing that information; as he did, a horrible truth began to form in his mind. Looking Owens directly in the eye, he asked, “I suppose you have no idea where to find Sykes?”

  “Correct.”

  He glanced at Shelley, whose face had taken on a queasy look. He hated to hurt her further, but he had to clarify something else. “Also, you don’t have any idea where Trevor is being held? Or by whom?”

  At least the man had the grace to appear uncomfortable. “I’m afraid not. After we closed this place down, the doctor decided it was safer not to have one central lab. He’s using facilities that are at a number of different locations.”

  Again, Matt considered the information—and the source. “So you asked us to come here, and you’ve just been touring us around this place purely to get my reactions.”

  Owens spread his hands. “It’s important that we obtain as much information as possible. Any clue we can get from you could make it easier for us to find Sykes.”
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br />   “Thanks a lot.”

  “The more we know, the more likely we’ll be able to come up with the doctor’s present whereabouts.”

  If he stayed here much longer he was going to strangle the FBI agent. Taking Shelley’s arm, Matt started back the way they’d come.

  Before they’d gotten very far, Owens called out, “Wait a minute.”

  Matt stopped and turned. “Why should we?”

  “There’s one more thing I want to show you.”

  He was torn. The guy was cold-bloodedly using them to get information for the U.S. government, and Matt had the suspicion that he wasn’t going to like this “one more thing.” But maybe there was some way to turn the tables on the agent.

  Matt turned to Shelley, hating the devastated look on her face. “Are you willing to stay for a few more minutes?”

  She considered the question, then answered in a barely audible voice, “Yes.”

  Their footsteps echoed hollowly in the empty corridors as Owens led them down another darkened hallway, this time to a part of the Facility near the labs.

  They walked into a room where the temperature was low and the walls were lined with stainless-steel drawers.

  Matt had a sense of what was coming and put his arm around Shelley, as Owens pulled one of the drawers open. Inside was the naked body of a woman. It took a moment for Matt to understand what he was seeing as he stared at the terrible wound in her midsection.

  “She was pregnant?” he asked in a harsh voice.

  “It seems so.”

  “And the baby is missing.”

  Beside him, Shelley made a high-pitched sound. He felt her waver on her feet and caught her in his arms.

  Her head lolled back, and her face was white as paste.

  “You bastard,” he said to Owens as he carried her outside.

  They had passed a room along the hall with several chairs. Matt strode inside, cradling Shelley on his lap, stroking her hair as he spoke softly to her.

  She had fainted, but she was coming around by the time he sat down.

  Her eyes blinked open and she stared at him, horror written across her face.

  “Was that real?” she asked.

  Matt looked at Owens. “Was it? Or just another sideshow for our reaction.”

  “I believe it was what it looked like.”

  “That poor woman. Who is she?” Shelley asked.

  “I was hoping you could tell us.”

  “Like you think it’s my mother or something?” Matt shot back.

  “We know it’s not your mother. But it might be someone you’ve seen before.”

  “No.”

  He held Shelley in his arms and leaned his head back against the wall, struggling for calm. His memories of this place were bad, but they had been limited to his own experiences in one cell and the medical facility. Now he knew that all kinds of atrocities had gone on in this house of horrors. Things he couldn’t have imagined in a million years. No wonder they called it “the Facility.” They didn’t want the name to convey any of the real purpose.

  Shelley stirred in his arms. “This is like Nazi Germany,” she whispered.

  “Yeah. I was thinking something like that,” Matt answered.

  Owens shook his head. “Nazi Germany’s policies were widely known by the population. What went on in this lab when it was operational was mostly hidden from even government sources.”

  “But somebody in the government knew about it.”

  “We shut it down when we found out. And we’re trying to find Dr. Sykes right now. Do you understand the urgency of that mission?”

  “Yes,” Shelley answered. “But it doesn’t do us any good.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  As Matt listened, a plan began to form in his mind. In a decisive voice, he said, “You are going to help us.”

  Owens looked at him. “We have only so much manpower, and our big push is to identify the members of the Association. I’m afraid we can’t allocate any resources to any of the individual victims.”

  “I understand that, but I have some additional information that you’ll find useful.”

  “Like what?”

  “I’ll tell you in exchange for your help.”

  Chapter Ten

  Matt watched Owens’s face, waiting with his pulse pounding. This guy had lured a couple of desperate parents to the Facility to serve his own agenda. Now he was calculating the pros and cons of doing something for them—if it suited his purposes.

  “What else do you know?” the agent asked.

  “I’d like something from you, first. Since you know there are two guys following us around, do us a favor and get them off our backs. Because if they stop us, we’re not going to find our son. Plus, if you capture them, you’ll find out who they’re working for. Probably it’s Sykes, and you can flush him out.”

  The agent considered the suggestions. “This would be a limited arrangement,” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “Shelley and I will go back to town. We’ll drive around so the bad guys can spot us. Then we’ll check into another motel and wait for them to pounce. Only this time, you’ll be covering us—ready to bag them before they can do anything serious.”

  “You’re putting yourselves in danger.”

  “We’re willing to take that chance,” Matt said, then glanced at Shelley for confirmation.

  She answered with a little nod, and he wondered how much she liked the plan. After her personal contact with one of the thugs, she must not be looking forward to more, but she wasn’t saying no.

  They all walked down the hall to an office full of computers and communications equipment. It wasn’t fancy, but it was certainly well-equipped.

  “Have a seat,” Owens said. “We need to bring agent Parker in on this to evaluate what you have for us.”

  They took seats across from a desk, while Owens went to get the other agent.

  Shelley made a small sound when they were alone. “Do you really have something more for them?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “You’re not going to tell the…”

  He pressed his finger to her lips, then said in a low voice. “They’re probably listening to us.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  Owens was gone for several minutes—probably waiting to see if they’d say anything good while he was out of the room.

  When he returned, he introduced them to a short, heavyset man who looked more like a Mafia wise guy than an FBI agent.

  “I hear you people want to play sitting ducks,” the man said in a conversational voice.

  “If you want to call it that,” Matt answered. “Let’s make sure nothing bad happens.”

  They discussed various strategies. When they’d agreed on a plan, Parker said, “What’s the information you have for us?”

  “The men were able to follow us around because I had a transponder under my skin. They tracked us to one motel—then another.”

  Owens stared at him. “And they’re tracking you here, too?”

  “I found it and took it out.”

  “Found it how?”

  “Logical deduction. I figured they couldn’t have tagged my rental car, so it had to be me.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Flushed down a motel toilet.”

  “So you say.”

  “It was in my groin area.”

  “Let’s see.”

  Matt gave him a hard look then stood up and unbuckled his belt. After unzipping his pants, he dropped them to the bandage on his inner thigh.

  “It was there.”

  “Interesting location,” Owens observed dryly.

  “Yeah. Maybe other people in the project have them, too. That might be useful to you.”

  Both agents nodded.

  Matt looked at Shelley. “Let’s get the show on the road.”

  “One more thing,” Parker said. “If you find your son, we want to interview him,” />
  “We’ll think about it.”

  “It’s part of the deal,” Owens shot back.

  “All right,” Matt agreed, then glanced at Shelley, who gave a little nod.

  Parker handed Shelley a small metal disk. “Put this in your purse, and we’ll be able to track you—like with that transponder in Matt. Only this one’s external.”

  “Okay.”

  “You won’t see us. But we’ll be waiting for your shadows to close in.”

  They nailed down a few more details, then Matt and Shelley left the underground facility.

  As they stepped into the sunlight, Matt took a deep breath of the forest air.

  “That place smells like mold,” he said.

  “It smells like evil.”

  “That, too. And not just from the past. I get the feeling those agents are as ruthless as Sykes.”

  “But you’re willing to work with them.”

  “If I have to.”

  She gave him a long look. “Are you really going to let them question Trevor?”

  “I’m sure that was in their plans all along, but I’m not going to let them bother him right away. I’m going to insist on some time alone—just the three of us,” he said, feeling his chest tighten as he spoke.

  Her next question was, “Do you trust Owens?”

  “Not entirely. But I think he’s decided that my proposition is to his advantage. So he’ll go along with us. And if by trust you mean do I think he’d let those guys grab us, no, I don’t.”

  “I guess that’s right. Unless he’s working with them.”

  Matt’s head swung toward her. “Are you serious?”

  “I don’t know what to think.” She dragged in a breath. “In the grand scheme of things, I don’t believe those agents are all that concerned about one little boy, but I’m guessing that this case could be an embarrassment to the U.S. government.”

  “If it got out.”

  “If we don’t get our son back, I’ll make sure it does,” she said in a steely voice.

  Matt was thinking they could disappear just as easily as Trevor, but he kept the observation to himself.

  As they approached the gate, Matt found he was holding his breath while he waited for the guard to let them out.