A smile spread across William’s face, as if he knew a secret and was deciding whether or not to share it with his grandmother. After letting the disconcerting grin last for several moments too long, he turned to the other man in the room and motioned him forward.
“This is Frank Hubbard,” William said. “Otherwise known as the Chief of Security for the Mayflower Facility.”
Twirling his finger in the air, William signaled for Frank to turn around slowly.
The man made it only half a rotation before Gertrude realized the point of William’s display. First, she thought it was to illustrate that the man was entirely under his control. As part of the screening process, security personnel on staff at the lab had undergone an extensive battery of psychological examinations. Due to his rank and position, Frank Hubbard would’ve been among the best of the best—the cream of the proverbial crop. The objective was to staff the facility with capable individuals who already had some sort of natural immunity to various forms of neural manipulations. That Frank had become William’s puppet was deeply troubling, but it turned out not to be the primary scene in William’s twisted theatrical production.
Gertrude felt the breath sucked from her lungs when Frank turned far enough for her to see that his patch was still in place behind his left ear. Her jaw fell slack, and she found herself staring wordlessly at the man before her. Certainly it was possible that William had compromised the man in another way—perhaps through bribery or blackmail. But it was the look in Frank’s eye that told her that wasn’t the case. When a subject was Pushed it brought a slightly different look to their stare. It wasn’t something most people would notice in a complete stranger; it wasn’t even something a close friend or family member was likely to notice in another, but it was something that Gertrude recognized with practiced precision. She’d been around enough Pushed subjects over the years to understand what she was seeing.
What she didn’t understand was how?
“Thank you, Frank,” William said, waving the man a few paces distant to stand guard.
“You sent me away,” William said, fixing his grandmother with a chilling glare. “You had me medicated and locked up. But you can’t put me in a cage, Grams. As it turns out, the more drugs they pumped into me, the harder I had to work to maintain control of myself.”
His eyes produced a manic gleam and his grin turned into a toothy smile. “It turns out that you only made me stronger! Tell me, how does that influence your precious research?”
It took a moment for Gertrude to find her voice. “You mean to tell me that the compound no longer inhibits your control?” It was terrifying to even contemplate the question. The threat of having it confirmed chilled her to the bone.
“From the look on your face, I’m guessing you don’t have a plan B?” William mused. He looked over his shoulder at the floor to ceiling glass wall that separated them from the server room beyond. The room was dark but seemed alive with the random pulsing of a variety of tiny colored LED lights that blinked on the faces of dozens of servers and rack mounted components.
“Give me what I want,” William said, meeting her eye once more. “Or, I swear to God, I will take it, and I’ll make you wish you’d treated me differently while I’m at it.”
A nauseous churning was gathering momentum deep in her gut. Gertrude knew that, not only did William mean to make good on his threat, but he was also looking forward to the opportunity to bring her pain. Still, she reasoned, whatever he might do to her now was nothing compared to what he would do to her if he accessed the database and learned the truth.
Chapter 23
Mayflower Lab Facility
Hennings, South Carolina
12:01 p.m.
Cyrus listened to William’s threats as he tried to coax his grandmother into giving up access to the database. He couldn’t understand why William didn’t just dig directly into Gertrude’s mind and extract the information; based on all that he had learned, it seemed the man was sufficiently capable of such mental manipulations. So why was he going through the trouble of questioning his grandmother at all? There’s something more going on. Something that William wasn’t saying that made him reluctant to engage his grandmother on such a level.
After locating the security office, Cyrus had made a quick sweep and confirmed that the area was clear. The security server had been smashed in an effort to prevent exactly what he was attempting. Luckily, whoever had done the job hadn’t been thorough enough. The power supply in the computer that operated the cameras and recording devices had fried, taking down the surveillance system. But the machine had redundant power supplies, which was typical of high end, mission critical hardware. Cyrus simply swapped out the power supply. It took the computer longer to boot up than it did to reconfigure the hardware, but after that, he had the base’s camera system functioning once more.
Locating Gertrude and William in the server room had been a simple matter. Cyrus retrieved a couple of party favors from the weapons locker of the security office before ducking back out the door and sprinting through the hallways. Actually locating the server room would’ve been the hardest part of his task, had it not been for Gertrude. Each hallway intersection was clearly labeled to make navigating the underground structure easy, but the location of the server room wasn’t designated by any of the posted signs. Nor had the server room been listed on the building schematic diagrams that were posted on the wall of the security office. It seemed that the only personnel allowed access to the central server room were those who knew how to find it for themselves. It was a curious security precaution, but no less strange than some of the other things Cyrus had seen since accepting his current assignment. Had it not been for the faint scuffmarks of dried blood intentionally left by his so-called employer’s cane, Cyrus would’ve wasted precious time searching for the location he’d seen on the surveillance displays.
Now Cyrus crouched at the corner of the last solid wall that separated him from his target. Thankfully, this wall was fully framed and clad in drywall. The next room and its adjacent rooms were walled entirely in glass. He realized he was lucky enough to get as close as he had, because he remained in earshot of the conversation William was having with Gertrude. Had they been one room over, Cyrus would’ve been unable to approach without giving up his position.
The conversation he’d overheard had confused him. It was like seeing a puzzle from a distance. There were large portions of the bigger picture that were missing, but the few portions of the greater whole that Cyrus had understood were bone chilling.
Cyrus shifted the gun to his right hand and was just about to make his move when he heard William speak again, but this time around his voice was different. Cyrus realized that the man was speaking to someone new, evident by a more patient and softer tone.
Tipping his head around the corner of the doorjamb, Cyrus quickly learned that William was using the phone from a nearby desk. It made sense. Wired lines were the only hope he had of communicating with anyone outside of the building. They were too far underground to have cellular access.
“You were right,” William said into the phone. “She won’t talk. I’ll have to extract the information personally.”
William went silent, obviously listening to the voice on the other end of the line.
“I understand. It’s not a concern. I can do this. To be honest, I think I’ll enjoy it.”
He waited once more.
“No,” William said. “I understand. Minimal breakage.”
Lowering the phone gently onto the receiver, Cyrus saw a smile cross the man’s face before he turned back to his grandmother.
“That’s it,” he told her. “If you won’t tell me what I need to know, I’ll take the information by force. Your last line of defense just gave me the ‘all clear’.”
All clear? What did that mean?
“So you’re not in this alone?” Gertrude spat in an acidic tone. “That shouldn’t surprise me. You’ve never done anything ambitious
on your own; just ridden on everyone else’s coattails. Why should this be any different?”
Wow, Cyrus marveled. These people take family issues to an entirely new level.
Stepping around the corner of the door, Cyrus walked into the glass office with his gun held high. Gertrude was the first to see him, her wide-eyed expression prompting William to turn and face him. It also prompted Frank to go for his weapon.
Cyrus beat the man to the punch, firing a single round that didn’t strike Frank but also didn’t miss him by much either. The bullet shattered the glass wall behind the mind-controlled guard and caused him to halt in the midst of drawing his weapon. The gun was halfway out of his holster when Frank regarded him with wide eyes.
“Drop it…or, the next one won’t miss,” Cyrus warned. His voice was level, and he had a surprisingly conversational tone given the spiking tension in the room.
Frank’s eyes remained locked on Cyrus. He shifted his grip on the gun, holding it between the tip of his thumb and forefinger before slowly stooping and placing it on the tile floor.
“It’s nice to see you again, Mister Cooper,” William offered, with a tight smile. He had Gertrude’s arm tight in his grasp and kept her positioned between himself and Cyrus. Still, he made little effort to use her as a human shield.
Cyrus turned his gun toward William but held it in a position that showed he was less prepared to fire. “You’ve gone through a lot of trouble just to get here,” Cyrus said. “If you’d been more forthcoming at the coffee shop this morning, maybe we could’ve cut to the chase.”
“It’s funny you should say that. That was, in fact, my intention. But you proved surprisingly immune to my…charms.”
The comment brought a smile to Cyrus’s face. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not that charming.”
“Evidently not,” William admitted. “But, in fairness, it’s not often I meet someone such as yourself. The only people to ever give me trouble are the one’s wearing that damned patch.” He twisted his grip on Gertrude’s arm and forced her to turn so that Cyrus could see the tiny dot that was still in place behind her ear.
It was beyond troubling when Cyrus caught a quick glance at Frank, standing silent with his hands raised, and realized that he wore the same patch as Gertrude.
“It doesn’t seem like you have trouble with the patch, after all,” Cyrus commented. He hoped to get William talking. He was playing catch-up, and had no solid idea what the patch accomplished in relation to William or why William couldn’t Push him like he did the others. He was hoping to sort it out in the process.
“Seems you’re right. There’s been a reversal of fortune,” William said smugly. He was practically beaming, impressed with himself and his triumph. “Gram’s miracle patch is no longer a problem for me.”
“Clearly,” Cyrus acknowledged in a dry, passionless tone. He would admit the man had succeeded, but stroking his ego was entirely unnecessary. “But why break into a maximum security installation? What’s here that’s so important to you? It can’t be your grandmother. You could’ve gotten to her in a hundred different ways that were easier than this.”
“Very true. This isn’t about her so much as it is her work,” William explained. “You work for her—”
Stopping cold, William cocked his head and looked at Gertrude. He seemed confused at first, and then smiled with understanding. “Oh, I see,” he said. “You’re still new here. She hasn’t shown you what dark secrets lie behind the proverbial curtain.” He laughed. “Don’t worry Grams. They won’t be secrets for much longer.
“It’s only a matter of time before grandmother gets what’s coming to her,” William met Cyrus’s eye as he continued, “For now, this is about her research and the atrocities she’s committed. You really have no idea what she’s done, do you?”
Cyrus raised his gun and took careful aim at William. “She’s not the one trespassing and taking hostages,” he warned.
Shifting his angle by several degrees, William brought the semiautomatic handgun held in his free right hand into view and pressed it squarely into Gertrude’s back.
Movement to his left drew Cyrus’s attention and he spun, turning the gun on Frank. The man had pulled a secondary sidearm from a hidden holster. Cyrus had the man squarely in his sights and his finger had already pulled the slack from the trigger; now, sending the round would require fractional effort. But when he saw that Frank wasn’t pointing the weapon at him, Cyrus backed off the trigger—both Frank and William had their weapons trained on Gertrude.
“Don’t look so surprised,” William said. He was now careful to use Gertrude as a human barrier. “The thought is practically screaming in her mind. She knows you don’t want to shoot a United States Marine. And, by the way, she’s pissed. If she had it her way, you would kill me and Frank right here and now. Does that sound like the kind of woman you should be working for?”
He made a good point, Cyrus realized. And as much as he didn’t trust William, nothing the man had said since he’d entered the room had struck him as a lie. Once this was over, Cyrus planned to make a point of looking into William and Gertrude Waterford more thoroughly. But this time he wouldn’t use the information provided by his people at the Coalition. Something was going on here that wasn’t detailed in the mission briefs he’d been provided.
The most interesting point at the moment, however, was why both William and the Marine named Frank were currently pointing their weapons at Gertrude. He was the most obvious threat in their current situation, the man with the gun, and it made sense for at least one of them to be threatening him. But since William was effectively in control of both weapons at the moment, it could only mean one thing.
“Why don’t you want me hurt?” Cyrus asked. The question fell from his lips before he realized he’d said the words aloud.
Surprise registered plainly on William’s face. “Can you Read me?” he asked.
Cyrus shook his head. “No, but you’re reluctant to shoot me, which means you have a reason. You want to know why you can’t Push me, and you can’t do that if I’m dead.”
William’s smile widened. “Are you sure you’re not a Reader?”
“I don’t need to be.”
“To be honest, I’m a little on the fence about killing you,” William admitted. “Did you know that she ran an extensive workup on your blood? She prompted the computer system to do a full DNA analysis and genome map right before I knocked the network offline.
“She’s even more interested in what makes you tick than I am. And if you let her get her hooks into you, you’ll wish I’d shot you right here and now.” His voice grew deeper, as if his mind was traveling back to a time of pain. “You don’t know what this woman is capable of.”
Cyrus fixed William with a penetrating stare. “I said it before and I’ll say it again, she’s not the one taking hostages.”
“Tell that to Keegan Porter,” William spat. “Or any of the other—”
Movement in his peripheral vision told Cyrus that Frank was making his move. Even now, killing Frank seemed too wrong.
Dropping the sights of his gun in a sharp angle toward the floor, Cyrus fired a single shot. The weapon’s report sounded like an explosion inside the fish tank-like walls of the glass room. The fired round struck William’s foot, the only clearly exposed portion of his anatomy. Blood splattered across the tile as the man shrieked in pain.
Cyrus charged forward, tugging Gertrude aside, at the same time as he drew a solid bead on William’s torso. But he needn’t have bothered. When the man recoiled in pain and shock from the gunshot to his foot, the gun in his hand was sent flying. William was already slumping to the ground, his hands prodding the new, fleshy hole in his body.
With William momentarily immobilized, Cyrus stepped in front of the still stumbling form of Gertrude and spun to bring his weapon to bear on Frank. But, again, he needn’t have bothered. The gun had already fallen from the man’s hands; William’s mental hold on him had shat
tered along with the bones of his foot.
Frank looked around slowly with unblinking eyes, likely without seeing anything around him. It was as if his brain was rebooting. The effort was apparently too much for him, as his knees buckled and he collapsed to the floor where he landed hard on his butt. There he sat, silent and still like a punch-drunk fighter who had gone one round too many.
Cyrus forced William face down on the floor and pulled the man’s hands behind his back. He began slipping a pair of flex cuffs, liberated from the security office, around his wrists.
Cyrus shot a harsh look at Gertrude. “What sort of proximity does he need?”
She didn’t answer. She only looked confused, likely stunned by the rapid violent display.
“Proximity!” Cyrus snapped. “How close does someone need to be for him to put the whammy on them?”
Gertrude’s eyes snapped back to a sharp and ready stare. “Fifty meters, last I knew. But he’s changed,” she said with concern. “He’s more powerful now. Let’s say one hundred for safe measure.”
Cyrus offered a curt nod. “It looks like his boy Frank is snapping out of it. Take him and head back to the security office. That will put you at a safe distance.”
“Right,” she said, heading for the door. “Wait—what about you?”
“It’s like you said, I seem to be immune to whatever he’s doing to people. I’ll be fine. I figured a serious shock would be enough to knock out whatever he was using on everyone. If we dose him with a sedative, will that keep him offline?”
“Absolutely. I know just the cocktail. Give me ten minutes.”
Gertrude helped the frazzled and hapless form of Frank Hubbard to his feet and guided him from the room. Cyrus sat with a knee on William’s back and pinned him to the floor until Gertrude and Frank had reached a safe distance. If worst came to worst and he thought William was trying to work his magic on someone again, it shouldn’t take more than a kick to the man’s shattered foot to put things right.
Dangerous Minds: A Cyrus Cooper Thriller: Book One Page 16