Mindsurge (Mindspeak Book 3)

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Mindsurge (Mindspeak Book 3) Page 18

by Heather Sunseri


  He held my hand tightly as we walked across campus. He had reverted to touching me a lot since Sandra came for Maya.

  “I know what you’re doing,” I told him. I sipped my tea. The sky was overcast, and the warmth of the tea and the soothing effects of the honey comforted me.

  “You do?” He placed his free hand over his heart, feigning shock.

  “You think you can protect me from Sandra just by shielding me.” We had discovered that Jack had the ability to keep people like Jonas, Ty, and Maya out of my head as long as he was touching me. The issue, though, was that it wasn’t feasible for him to be touching me at all times. Although that didn’t stop him from trying.

  “Mmm.”

  As we approached Wellington’s admin building, we passed a few government vehicles—some black Crown Victorias and a smaller SUV, all with official government license plates. My guests had arrived.

  Squeezing my hand, Jack halted my forward motion. “What’s going on here?” he asked.

  “It’s okay. I invited them.”

  Jack maneuvered his body to stand in front of me, keeping me from proceeding. “What do you mean, you invited them? Who are they? What’s going on?”

  “Just some government peeps I thought could help.” I was purposely vague. “It’s time we take Sandra, your father, and their operation down.”

  Jack twisted his neck, popping it twice. “What are you talking about? How are you going to do that?”

  “I have some ideas.”

  I sidestepped Jack, but held on to his hand and pulled him behind me. “I’ve been resisting everything we’ve been dealing with since the beginning. But now it’s time to face it head-on. We’ll never be free to move forward with our lives with Sandra constantly trying to brainwash me, trying to steal me away from my life here at Wellington.”

  “So what’s the plan, then? Are you going to let me in on it, or do I have to stand in the background and make the have-you-lost-your-mind face?”

  “I haven’t lost my mind.”

  “Okay then, let me ask you this: how did an eighteen-year-old girl talk a team of ‘government peeps’ into showing up for this meeting?”

  “I got Coach to help.”

  “You asked Coach Williams.”

  “And I may have threatened them a little.”

  “Right. You threatened them. With your paralyzing ring?” He chuckled.

  “You think this is funny?”

  His smile only faltered a little. “No. I don’t think it’s the least bit funny. More like terrifying.”

  I dropped his hand and sped up. Before I reached the door to the building, he grabbed my arm. “I’m just wondering how you might have ‘threatened’ a group of government officials. Officials who have done nothing to help us with anything that’s happened so far, and who we’d rather not know that much about our gifts. So what do you have that made them listen?”

  “Information. And money.”

  “Money? Your inheritance.”

  “I’ve tried telling you. We keep getting interrupted. My father left me a small fortune when he died.”

  “I gathered that. What kind of small fortune are we talking?”

  I turned my head into the breeze, and the cool air blew some rogue strands away from my face. I took a deep breath in, preparing to blow Jack’s mind.

  Jack touched my cheek and directed my gaze back toward him. “How much?”

  “Three point two.”

  “Three point two what? Million?”

  “Billion.”

  Jack dropped his hand and took a step back. He cupped his chin, rubbing his hand back and forth across his five o’clock shadow. The vein in his neck began pulsing rapidly.

  “Say something.” I couldn’t hide the shakiness from my voice.

  He opened and shut his mouth three times, then turned away from me, looking out across campus.

  “Jack?”

  He whipped back around. “Let me get this straight. You’ve known since the day those attorneys came to meet with you that you were the heir to a few billion dollars? Do you have any idea what kind of money that is?”

  I didn’t even bother answering those questions. The last one didn’t even deserve an answer. How could anyone—especially a teenager sheltered inside a boarding school wearing uniforms half her life—comprehend what that kind of money meant? All I knew was that it meant power. I just wasn’t sure how much power.

  “Are you mad I didn’t tell you? I tried. I wanted to. It was just, you were angry at me. And I was mad at you. And then people were shooting at us. Someone did shoot two of us. Jonas was taken. Maya tried to kill me. Twice. Then Sandra almost kidnapped me.”

  Jack closed the distance between us. He slipped an arm around me and raised a finger to my lips. “Shhh. I’m not mad that you didn’t tell me.”

  “You’re not?” I searched his eyes. “This changes everything, doesn’t it?”

  “Money doesn’t change things between you and me. I just wish you would have trusted me with this sooner.”

  “It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you. I wanted to tell you the other night. I started to, but then Jonas was taken. I tried again when we got back to my room. But you fell asleep while I was in the shower. And—”

  “I would have protected you better had I known. This is why Roger wants you dead, isn’t it? He stood to take over more than just the school if he got rid of you.”

  “It appears so. My father’s biggest mistake was trusting the wrong people.”

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you found out about your inheritance.”

  “It’s okay. I forgave you for that a long time ago. We’ve both made our share of mistakes.”

  “I don’t want to make any more.” He tucked an errant strand of hair behind my ear. “Can’t we just use this money to run away?”

  I cocked my head. He and I both knew we couldn’t just run. “I’d love nothing more than that, but Jonas needs us.”

  Jack nodded. “That he does.”

  “And Sandra has the backing of the government on her side.”

  Jack took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “So, we meet with and threaten that same government? That’s your plan?”

  “More or less.”

  “Well, then…” He gestured with his hand out. “Lead the way.”

  ~~~~~

  At five feet two inches, there were times when I had to be bigger than myself.

  Several men and one woman gathered in Wellington’s conference room, and almost all of them carried guns. They were dressed in dark suits and held small Styrofoam cups. The smell of coffee filled the air. I’d never understood the lure of hot coffee in the afternoon.

  Not one of them looked our way when we entered.

  “Oh, good, you’re both here.” Alyson walked in behind us, along with Coach. “Are you sure about this?” She placed a gentle hand on my arm.

  I nodded. It was surreal to have my mother ask that question and touch me with a gentleness that I was coming to know in her. Had I forgiven her? Or had I simply put my anger on hold while I conquered the real monster?

  Coach cast me an uneasy smile. “This isn’t going to be easy. I called in all my favors. You’ve got a tough crowd before you.”

  I scanned the room, studying each person. My eyes finally fell on a woman dressed in a lovely dark red suit. Evelyn Meyers, the president’s deputy chief of staff. She was flanked by two men in navy suits—Secret Service, I presumed. “I’m ready,” I told Coach.

  “Okay, then. Let’s do this.” He faced the room. “Ladies and gentlemen, if you could, please take your seats.”

  “Actually,” I stepped forward, placing a hand on Coach’s arm, “there’s no need for all of you to sit.” I met each of their stares before landing on the one female in the room. “Ms. Meyers, I believe? I would love it if you and I could have a private conversation.”

  The other suits in the room traded raised-brow looks. One of the men chuckled under hi
s breath, then with a toothy grin, said, “And who might you be, pretty lady?”

  “I’m Lexi Matthews. Who are you?” I answered with a smile to match his, though mine had a touch of smart-ass to it.

  He glanced to Coach Williams, then back to me. “Agent Mackelroy, FBI.”

  “Agent Mackelroy is the agent who is working your father’s case,” Coach explained. “He also was nice enough to call the office of the president’s chief of staff, which resulted in Ms. Meyers and a couple of Secret Service agents attending this meeting.” Then he added, “As you requested.” There was a touch of warning in his voice not to piss these people off.

  “I see. Well, Mr. Mackelroy, I appreciate you being here. I’m thankful that you’re still trying to solve my dad’s murder.” Though I still hadn’t heard if they had done anything about the video I’d sent them. “I’m even more grateful for the call you made to the president’s chief of staff. For now, I need to speak with Ms. Meyers. Alone. You and your friends are invited to take a walk over to our campus coffee shop and have a latte on me.”

  One of the men standing directly next to Ms. Meyers spoke up next. “We’re not leaving Ms. Meyers.”

  “Why? Do I look like I’m a threat to her?” That got an amused grin out of Ms. Meyers.

  I made eye contact with each of the men, one by one. I need each of you to exit the room. You will walk across campus and find the coffee shop there. Have a latte. Otis, the barista, is expecting you.

  They each made their way to the doors behind me. Ms. Meyers looked on as the men filed out of the room, leaving Jack, Coach, Seth, Alyson, Ms. Meyers, and me.

  Ms. Meyers’s eyebrows slanted inward, almost touching. “What just happened?” She was a middle-aged woman, African-American, and by her size and build, I suspected she was an avid runner.

  “I asked them to leave.” I pulled out the chair next to her and sat.

  A knock sounded behind me, and the door opened slowly. “Sorry I’m late.” Briana entered, looked around the room, and headed over to stand beside Jack.

  How’s your head? I asked.

  Better, thanks to you. Any word from Jonas?

  I shook my head.

  Ms. Meyers clasped her hands together. “I think it’s time someone told me why this meeting was called.” Irritation was evident in her tone.

  I drew in a sharp breath. “Ms. Meyers, have you ever heard of Palmyra Atoll?”

  “I know it. A small island in the Northern Pacific Ocean.”

  “That’s right.” I could feel Jack’s eyes on me. We had talked about how much or how little to divulge to anyone in the government, which is why I’d asked everyone but Evelyn Meyers to leave. I had researched her online and found her to be trusted by her colleagues and respected by the news media. She was married with three children. A career woman who still made time for family. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but this island is partially owned by the Nature Conservancy. The other part is owned by the United States and run by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Department.”

  “I believe that’s correct. It’s an unorganized, uninhabited territory.”

  “Unorganized, maybe. But there are residents of this atoll.”

  “All right. Why don’t you tell me why we’re discussing this island?” Her smile told me she was struggling to take me seriously.

  “The secretary of the interior is responsible for whatever happens on Palmyra Atoll. And the secretary, who sits on the president’s cabinet, answers to the president. This indirectly makes the president responsible for what happens on this atoll. Isn’t it partly your job, as deputy chief of staff, to protect the president?”

  “What exactly do you want, Miss Matthews?”

  “I want to purchase Palmyra Atoll.”

  Ms. Meyers’s face turned stoic. “Let’s pretend for a minute that you could possibly have enough money to purchase a private island. Palmyra Atoll is not for sale. Even if it were, why would the United States of America sell it to you?” She enunciated each syllable. “Besides, what would a young girl like yourself want with an uninhabited island in the middle of the Northern Pacific?”

  I chose to ignore the “young girl” comment for now. “I assure you, money is not a problem.” I nodded to Seth. He flipped on the projector, and Alyson dimmed the lights. I gestured for Ms. Meyers to direct her attention toward the screen now lit up with a photograph. “This is a satellite photo of the atoll, taken yesterday.” I picked up a laser pointer and walked to the wall. “As you can see here and here…”—I pointed to a few fuzzy spots in the picture—“…people are, in fact, currently on the island.”

  “Okay, so what?” She turned her hands out, then let them fall back to the table. “I obviously am not completely in touch with the goings-on of this island. The Nature Conservancy might have a project in progress.”

  “I mean no disrespect when I say this, but I’m willing to bet that no one working under the president is aware of what’s happening on Palmyra Atoll right now.”

  She shifted in her seat. “What are you suggesting?”

  “I’m not suggesting. I’m telling you that there is something happening on this island that I plan to put a stop to, and the International Intelligence Agency is covering it up right under the president’s nose. And because the president is ultimately responsible for this island—and for what the IIA does on U.S. soil—a political and PR nightmare will erupt if, or should I say when, the American public finds out.”

  “And just what is happening on Palmyra that you think is so serious?”

  “The IIA is allowing a group of doctors and scientists to clone human beings and experiment on them.” I decided not to add the fact that this was being done in exchange for robotic and cloned human weapons to be sold to military around the world. Not yet, anyway.

  A hysterical laugh passed Ms. Meyers’s lips. “Human cloning. That’s not possible. Where would you get such an absurd idea?”

  “It is possible. I’m proof.”

  One, two, three beats passed while she tapped a manicured fingernail against the table. “What do you mean, you’re proof?”

  I nodded to Seth. He changed the slide on the screen to show three side-by-side pictures. With my laser, I pointed. “This is a photograph of me. The next one is Dr. Sandra Whitmeyer when she was my age. And the third is Sandra Whitmeyer today.” A chill produced goose bumps across the back of my neck and down my arms. It was the first time I had seen myself directly next to the donator of my DNA.

  “That doesn’t prove anything. You could have created an age-enhanced photo.”

  “I could have, but I didn’t. I can prove that my DNA is nearly identical to that woman’s. Just as I can prove that Jack’s DNA”—Jack nodded behind me—“is identical to Dr. John DeWeese’s DNA. Dr. DeWeese is the man who raised Jack, and he’s this woman’s partner in every insane thing being done on Palmyra Atoll. The FBI agents who were here today also know this information to be true. They’ve simply not been able to prove it fully.”

  Coach, who had been leaning against the wall the entire time, stepped up to the table again. “What Lexi is failing to mention is that Sandra Whitmeyer and John DeWeese have repeatedly asked Lexi to join them. When she has declined their request, they have threatened her life. They need Lexi as a subject, in order to enable the types of DNA modifications they want to make to the cloned humans they’re creating.”

  “And they’re killing hundreds of embryos for every one that survives.” My heart ached just saying that out loud. As if voicing the horrific truth made it even more of a reality.

  “If what you’re saying is true, I’ll take this information to the president. We’ll launch an investigation. The U.S. government will not allow this to continue. If necessary, the military will get involved.”

  My stomach tightened. “No. That won’t work.” The military was liable to take the entire island out if they discovered the kind of craziness that was happening there. “Doing that brings attention to the island. Too many
people will discover the horrific experiments these doctors are doing. Neither the president nor I have any interest in the public knowing anything about what is going on there. That’s why I decided to bring it to his attention—to your attention—before the public discovers this unfortunate information and forms their own opinion.”

  I was taking a risk by bringing this to her—if the military were to get involved, I would fail.

  Ms. Meyers stood. She was at least five foot eight, a good six inches taller than me. “Are you threatening the president, Miss Matthews?”

  My pulse was sprinting at full speed. “On the contrary. I’m trying to protect him. And myself. I’m saving your boss from a public relations disaster if news of the experiments being done to Americans on this island were to leak to the press—experiments that have nothing to do with the mission of the Nature Conservancy or U.S. Fish and Wildlife.”

  “And what makes you think anyone in the press would believe anything you were to say to them?”

  “Because I have proof of every experiment ever done by the IIA’s Division of Human Cloning. And I have proof that at least one segment of the U.S. government has allowed immoral and unlawful experiments to take place in exchange for the creation of unorthodox weapons.” Not to mention that those weapons were being sold to other countries’ military.

  Though I wanted to retreat backward into the dark corner behind me, I took two steps closer to the deputy chief of staff. “I also have proof of murders, and attempted murders, committed by representatives of the IIA or by people currently protected by the IIA. These murders have been covered up by agencies of the U.S. government, as have the repeated threats on my life.”

  Panic erupted in Ms. Meyers’s eyes and across her face. “Do you realize you are blackmailing the president of the United States?”

  “I’m not blackmailing anyone. I’m offering our government the chance to do something right before the public discovers the truth. The truth about the American lives that have been lost due to the horrific experiments being performed by the doctors on Palmyra Atoll.”

  Ms. Meyers frowned. “I can see that you’ve put a lot of thought into this. But this is not a job for a little girl. This is a job for the U.S. military.” She stood and placed her hands on the table to brace herself. “I appreciate you bringing this information to the president’s attention, but this meeting is over.”

 

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