Bailey took a picture of Devin, mouth still duct-taped and sent it to Blackburn. She pulled the tape off, in case her detainee wanted to share more information.
The kid made a throaty sound. “My father will never compromise himself to save me. I’m not that important to him.” Devin shrugged. “No soldier is.”
His tone was stoic but his eyes registered pain. Even she could perceive that. Not good. If Blackburn didn’t send Lopez out, Bailey would have to go in. Where the hell was her backup?
Chapter 42
Blackburn called Rashaud, then shouted “Meet me in my office,” and hung up. He scanned the bedroom. Where were his damn pants? He’d just stepped out of the shower when he’d taken the call he thought was from his son. How the fuck had Devin let himself be caught by an FBI agent? More important, had his son destroyed the computer files at the clinic first? Or eliminated the reporter? Not that Wilson mattered now anyway, with the damn FBI on their trail. The bureau didn’t have jurisdiction on the base, and Blackburn wondered how the agent had gotten in past the checkpoint.
He walked to his clean clothes hanging on the back of a chair. As he pulled on his shorts, he stared down at his body. Disgusting. A penis so small women sometimes laughed when they saw it. Except Noreen. She’d wanted him, or at least his child. But why? His face? His authority? Certainly not for his body. He had man boobs, for god’s sake. He’d developed them at thirteen and had been mocked and pinched and tormented in school locker rooms. But he’d learned to fight and had joined the military to prove to himself he was as masculine as everyone else. Yet, he’d never made peace with his body, and eventually, he’d gone to medical school to learn everything he could about gender biology and how pharmaceuticals, hormones in particular, affected genitalia.
Blackburn shook off the old feelings. He was facing the worst crisis of his life and needed to focus. Head pounding with pain, he pulled on his clothes. Damn. He shouldn’t have drunk so much the night before. But now, the only way to get rid of the headache was to pour a little vodka into his orange juice. Only he didn’t have time for juice. Blackburn took a short swig from the cold bottle, strapped on his favorite handgun, and headed next door to his office.
He opened the entry to the hallway, and Rashaud was waiting, as he’d expected. Blackburn motioned him in and held out the photo he’d received. “An FBI agent has detained Devin, and I think they’re right outside the complex.”
Rashaud stared, open-mouthed. “He looks like a prisoner.”
“The agent, probably the woman who was here yesterday, offered to trade him for Taylor Lopez.”
“How did they know she was here? Devin must have been sloppy.”
Blackburn bristled. He could criticize his son, but Rashaud never should. “They may have been following Devin.” Blackburn would never tell anyone that his son had accidentally drugged himself with heroin. Was that what had made his son so careless? Fuck!
“We can’t let the feds ever know the girl was here.” Rashaud bounced on his feet. “We’ll spend our lives in prison for kidnapping.”
Blackburn stiffened and glared at him. “But they already do. If we make the exchange, Devin has a chance to escape and start a new life somewhere. Then we can hire the best military lawyers we know for ourselves.”
Rashaud shook his head. “Devin is already compromised. They probably have evidence against him. Let him take the blame for everything.” The captain raised his voice. “Don’t let misguided emotion cloud your thinking. Cut your losses.”
Rage boiled in Blackburn’s veins. “Fuck that! We’re not sacrificing my son. I’ll take the blame. You can run out the back exit like the coward you are.”
Rashaud grabbed Blackburn’s shirt with tight fists. “Don’t ever call me that.”
Before Blackburn could react, Rashaud pushed him away and backed toward the door. “I’m taking Lopez to the incinerator. She’s the only real problem for us.” He pointed a finger. “You’re the one who brought her here, and now you’re the one who doesn’t have the courage to deal with her.” Rashaud turned and bolted through the door.
The insubordinate, ungrateful prick. Blackburn charged after him. Once he put the captain in his place, he would grab the ImmuNatal from the lab, get up to the helicopter landing pad, and pilot the drug out of here. He didn’t care what happened to the girl, and Devin would understand that the Peace Project had to be his priority. The safety of the world depended on it. Blackburn couldn’t believe he’d forgotten that for a moment.
Chapter 43
Taylor woke again after a restless night of horrific dreams. What would her captors make her do today? Except for the films, they’d been civil to her, even offering food she had no appetite for. She brushed her teeth, then tried to read the magazine she’d found on the desk, but it held no interest for her. The torture images she’d had to watch haunted her. She could see why Marissa had become an operative who dedicated her life to stopping terror. Someone had to. The terrorists were horrific, and she’d learned that they planned to take over Europe, then America, through violent warfare. But she didn’t feel capable of being a spy. In some ways, she realized she was a perfect candidate, no family, except an aunt in Virginia she never saw, and little chance at a normal life. She would never marry or have children, and her goal was to become a forensic technician or coroner—someone who focused on death. Even if she escaped this horrible place, her future held little promise.
Depression overwhelmed her, and Taylor lay on the bed. Maybe she should go along with the training and give her life some meaning. A soft rap on the door made her sit up.
Marissa slipped in. “Hello again.”
Taylor jumped to her feet. “Hey.” The young woman was prettier than she remembered. Did Marissa use her sex appeal to extract information from terrorists? Did she infiltrate radical cells? Taylor didn’t think she could do that.
Marissa came over and touched her face. “You’ve been crying.”
“Those films were horrible.”
“They’re real. You can’t forget that.” Marissa stroked her hair. “But I’m sorry I made you unhappy.”
Taylor stepped back. “No, you’re not sorry. That was the point. You’re manipulating me.”
The pretty spy smiled. “Yes, but I would rather make you happy.”
“Then tell me what the gender experiment was all about. Why did they give that drug to all those women? Why make intersex babies?”
“I can only tell you that it’s an integral part of the war on terrorism. The results won’t be seen for many years, but there will be peace.”
How? Taylor’s mind struggled to match up the two ideas. “Is the drug intended for the Middle East? To make people passive?”
“You’re on the right track, but let’s not talk about that. I want to cheer you up.” Marissa grabbed Taylor’s hands and pulled her close. “I know you’re attracted to me. I see it in your eyes.”
She’d tried hard to suppress those feelings, but sexual attraction wasn’t something she could control. Walk away. “No.” Taylor shook her head and stepped back. “I’m not into women.”
“Like hell you’re not. You’re one of us.” Marissa moved in again and whispered. “I sense your hyper-sexuality.”
So Marissa was part of the experiment too. Taylor wanted to see her body… just out of curiosity.
The girl leaned in and pressed her lips against Taylor’s mouth. Gentle, yet urgent.
Oh god. No one had ever kissed her like that. The one prostitute she’d been with had been perfunctory, and the only boy who’d ever kissed her had been stiff and awful.
Marissa wrapped her arms around Taylor and stroked her back. “You’re going to like training.”
This was the last thing she’d expected. Maybe she should just go along, as part of her escape plan. Marissa ran her fingers lightly over Taylor’s breasts. The shock and pleasure overwhelmed her. In the next few moments, Taylor saw flashes of the rest of her life. Seducing strangers, steali
ng data, using drugs to make herself forget the ugliness and fear.
She didn’t want it!
With everything she could muster, she shoved Marissa against the wall, slamming her head on the concrete. The girl made a soft cry, then slipped down to the floor.
Taylor froze. Oh god. What had she done?
Run! Her brain screamed, even though her feet didn’t want to move.
Get her ID pass and run! This is your chance.
Taylor knelt down next to Marissa’s slumped body, snatched the ID she wore around her neck, and bolted from the room. Go left! She’d made a point to remember how she’d come in. She wanted to sprint, but worried she would encounter other soldiers or spies in the hall and look suspicious. She walked rapidly instead, keeping her head up and her face deadpan. You can do this. Just act like you belong and keep moving to the front of the complex. She would take a golf cart from the foyer, open the door with her pass, and drive right out.
Unless Marissa regained consciousness and alerted the guards.
Taylor came to an intersection and glanced sideways. Down the hall, she saw a tall man in a blue uniform punch a smaller brown-skinned man in the face. Was that the major? What the hell was going on? Picking up her pace, she entered the long hallway separating the maze of interior rooms from the entrance foyer. They’d driven in on a cart, so it would take longer to get out on foot. How far was it?
Heart pounding with fear and hope, Taylor sprinted up the empty passage toward freedom.
Chapter 44
Devin couldn’t believe she was trussed up liked a pig for roasting in the back of her own vehicle. But at least she’d managed to slip the handcuffs down and over, so they weren’t behind her back anymore.
None of this was her fault. The major had given her too many assignments too quickly, not allowing time for careful planning. And all those back-to-back deaths had connected back to the obstetrics clinic. No wonder someone besides the morgue attendant had caught on. Or maybe Lopez had called the FBI before she’d been arrested and abducted. Either way, it was the major’s decision to bring Taylor into the program instead of shutting her down and dumping her body where it might never be found. Devin rubbed the tape between her ankles more vigorously as the stressed thoughts invaded her brain.
When the second phase of the Peace Project had finally come close to fruition, the major had started to make irrational decisions, especially about terminating the wildcard subjects. Devin could see that now. And she would be the one to pay the price. Her father would never give up his own freedom and reputation to save her. Not a chance in hell. She was on her own, and if she ended up in court, she would put all the blame on him. She was just a soldier, taking orders from her commander. A military jury would struggle to convict her. The FBI had no jurisdiction over her at all. The agent was here, but she wouldn’t make it off the base alive.
Devin was determined to get loose. If she did, she might even make a break for it. She’d been working the tape between her ankles since the moment she entered the back seat. Now, at least twenty minutes had passed since the agent called the major and offered the deal. Rubbing the tape against itself was forcing it into a frayed, rolled-up mess in the middle. Time to test it again. Devin yanked her legs outward, trying to bust the tape. She heard a small rip. Booyah! She almost had it. She looked up at the agent. Bailey was sitting against the passenger door—where she could see Devin—but currently looking down and texting someone on her phone. The agent hadn’t heard the ripping sound or noticed the activity.
Devin rubbed the ankle tape harder for a moment, then jerked outward again. Another tiny ripping sound. Yes! She would break her legs free eventually. If she could run, she could escape.
The agent stepped out of the car and yanked open the back door. “Let’s go.”
“What’s your plan?” Devin hadn’t spoken since Agent Bailey had called her father. She regretted some of what she’d said but didn’t think it would matter. Hearsay wouldn’t sway a military jury.
“I’m going in and you’re my shield.”
Devin shook her head. Bailey was stunningly brave. Or stupid. No, they were both going to die. Unless the duct tape on her ankles gave before they entered the complex.
The agent grabbed her arm and started across the clearing.
Chapter 45
Bailey knew her plan was reckless, but she was tired of waiting for backup that might not come. Leaving without Lopez was failure, and letting Blackburn get away was unacceptable. He’d ordered the murders, and Bailey worried there would be more. What if he’d tested new versions of ImmuNatal on other generations at other military hospitals? She was also incredibly curious about the complex and what other kind of research was going on in there.
Keeping Devin in front, she approached the flat-roofed, metal building that looked like a big mechanic shop in the middle of nowhere. But she knew it was just camouflage for the real entrance. Would there be any guards? The only way to reach this location was through a gated military base. Or maybe hunters on horseback might wander through. Bailey spotted the security post and waved Devin’s card in front of the camera. An overhead door opened, and Devin shuffled inside, his feet still bound. Bailey stayed behind him, Glock drawn. She had Devin’s stun gun in her pocket in case she encountered a guard. She didn’t want to shoot a U.S. soldier who was just doing his job.
The mostly empty room smelled like a mechanic’s shop too.
“Stop right there!”
A uniformed guard stepped out from his post at the back of the building.
Oh hell. Bailey called out, “FBI. Drop your weapon.” She peered around her human shield.
The guard, another young male, blinked in surprise. “What are your orders, Lieutenant Blackburn?”
“Stand down. She’s armed.”
Devin’s cooperation surprised her. Then she noticed his handcuffs were now in front. Oh hell! There was nothing she could do about it at the moment. The guard lowered his gun but didn’t drop it. Bailey pushed Devin, and he moved toward the shiny panel next to the soldier’s post.
Suddenly the door opened, and Taylor Lopez ran through.
Holy crap! Blackburn had decided to trade.
At the sight of them, the girl stopped, her expression crushed.
The guard started to lift his rifle. Bailey pulled the stun gun and let the double prongs fly. They landed in the guard’s chest and thigh. He dropped to his knees, then sprawled out flat, moaning. His weapon clanged against the cement floor. “Stay down!” She turned to Lopez. “Special Agent Bailey, FBI. Come with me.” Now that she had the kidnapped woman, Bailey would retreat.
She spun Devin around. “We’re going out,” and she shoved her captive toward the exit.
“You said you would release me if the major let Lopez go.”
Bailey laughed. “I’m not always a woman of my word.” She pushed him again, and he shuffled forward, cursing. Bailey glanced back at the guard. He was still down.
Lopez rushed ahead and activated the overhead door, then stood under it to hold it open for the two of them. When they’d cleared the building and the door slammed shut behind her, Bailey breathed a sigh of relief. Now she just had to get them all safely off the base.
Halfway across the clearing, she heard the distinct sound of chopper blades. Bailey turned back. From behind the building, a helicopter rose into the air, and it looked like Blackburn was piloting it. Shit! The major was getting away, and probably taking the ImmuNatal with him. For a moment, she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. What if the drug and the mission worked as planned? Wouldn’t that be a good thing?
Devin suddenly spun around and head-butted her in the nose. Pain overwhelmed her and she made an involuntary grunting sound. With stars flickering around her watery eyes, Bailey brought up her Glock. Devin body-slammed her, and she went down.
The roar of the helicopter thundered as it came closer, low to the ground. Bailey clambered to her feet.
Devin sprinted for t
he center of the clearing, duct tape flapping around his ankles. The chopper hovered above, a rescue line dangling. The soldier leapt and caught the line with cuffed hands, and the craft started to lift again.
Hell! The major and his son were both getting away. Bailey gripped her weapon with both hands and aimed at Devin, clinging to the rescue line. Could she justify shooting him? The young lieutenant was probably a killer, but she had no proof.
Gunfire ripped through the air. The major was shooting at her.
Bailey raised her Glock to aim at the helicopter and pulled the trigger three times. The chopper started to spin out of control. As it dropped from the sky, the swinging rescue line slammed into a massive boulder and Devin Blackburn fell to the ground.
Moments later, the helicopter crashed and burst into flames. Major Blackburn would likely not have survived, and neither would the ImmuNatal. Next to her, Taylor Lopez gasped and burst into silent tears.
Behind them, engines raced, and tires crunched on the gravel road. They both turned to see a fleet of dark sedans rushing toward them.
Chapter 46
Monday, Oct. 17, 8:45 a.m., Denver
Bailey set her laptop on the tiny desk at the motel and opened Skype. She had a conference call scheduled with her boss and the new deputy director. Because of her swollen nose, she would have preferred a phone conversation, but they wanted an update on yesterday’s events at Fort Carson, among other things. She wasn’t looking forward to it. She’d already been debriefed by the head of the Denver bureau and two separate military investigators. The second session, which had taken place in a windowless room in a numbered building on the Fort Carson base, had lasted until midnight. At that point, tired of Colorado Springs, she’d driven to Denver to find a nicer motel and be near the airport.
Bailey poured another cup of crappy motel coffee, sick of it too. But her body was bone-tired and she had a red-eye to catch at the end of the day. And yet she hummed with a slow-brewing anger. Her investigation had been blocked. In response to her call for backup, the deputy director had arranged for a military investigator to accompany the Denver team into the base, which she was thankful for. But they’d been given limited access and told their only focus was to locate the missing woman—which she’d already done. Not one agent had set foot inside the hidden complex. Whatever the researchers were doing in there would remain a secret. The military investigator had confiscated all her files too, including Dr. Metzler’s journal. Bailey still had the thumb drive with patient records from 1995 and ’96 but no authority to continue the case.
The Gender Experiment: (A Thriller) Page 21