The Atlantis Gene (The Origin Mystery 1) - Page 34/115

Fire alarms called out around them as flickering LED lights punctuated the din, and pandemonium broke out. Doors opened, people ran from rooms left and right, sprinklers sprang to life, and water soaked the fleeing masses.

“Now we can go.”

CHAPTER 36

Immari Jakarta Headquarters

Jakarta, Indonesia

On the elevator, Kate had fought at the guards’ vice-grip hold on her arms. They pinned her to the wall until the elevator doors opened, then hauled her into a room with what looked like a reclining dentist’s chair. They threw her down, strapped her in, and said, “The doctor will be right in.” They had laughed as they walked out.

Now she waited. The relief at seeing Martin felt like a million years ago. The wide straps cut into her arms, just above where the zip-ties had gouged her wrists. Fear started to grip her. The room’s walls were stark white, and except for the chair, the only thing in the room was a steel high-top table with a round bundle on it. She could barely see it from the reclining chair, which forced her gaze up at the buzzing florescent lights.

The door opened, and she craned her head up to see. It was him — the man who had taken the kids. The man who took her from the soldier’s van. A wide smile spread across his face. It was a mean smile, the kind that said, “I have you now.”

He stopped a few feet from her face. “You’ve gotten me in a lot of trouble today, little girl. But life is about second chances.” He walked over to the steel table and unrolled the bundle. Out of the corner of her eye, Kate could barely make out the gleam of steel utensils, long and pointy. He glared back at her over his shoulder. “Oh, who am I kidding? In my experience, life is about payback.” He took out one of his tools of torture — a smaller version of a grilling skewer. “You’re going to tell me what I need to know, and I hope it takes as long as physically possible.”

Another man came in. He wore a white coat and held something Kate couldn’t quite see, possibly a syringe. “What are you doing?” he asked the torturer.

“Getting started. What are you doing?”

“That’s not the plan. We use the drugs first — those are the orders.”

“Not my orders.”

Kate lay there helpless as the men stared at each other, the torturer holding the silver prod, the white-coat clutching the syringe.

Finally, syringe-man said, “Whatever. I’m going to give her this, then you can do whatever you want.”

“What is it?”

“Something new we’re using in Pakistan. Basically turns their brains to mush; they’ll tell you anything.”

“Is it permanent?” the torturer asked.

“Sometimes. Been lots of different side effects. We’re still working on it.” He jammed the oversized syringe into Kate’s arm and injected slowly. She felt the cold liquid fill her veins. She fought against the straps, but they were too tight.

“How long will it take?”

“Ten, maybe fifteen minutes.”

“Will she remember?”

“Probably not.”

The torturer set the silver tool down and walked over to Kate. He ran a hand down her chest and legs. “So cute. And feisty. Maybe they’ll let me have you when they have their answers.”

CHAPTER 37

Kate didn’t know how long it had been, didn’t know if she had been asleep, if she was awake now. Maybe not. Her body didn’t hurt. She couldn’t feel the straps. She was so thirsty. The lights were blinding. So bright. She turned her head to the side, licking her lips. So thirsty.

The ugly man was in her face. He grabbed her chin and jerked her back into the light. She squinted. His face, so mean. Angry. “I’d say we’re about ready for our first date, Princess.”

He pulled something out of his pocket. A paper?

“But first, we need to get some paperwork out of the way. Just a couple of questions. Question number one: what did you give those children?” He pointed at the paper. “Ah, and we have a footnote here: we know it wasn’t A-R-C 2-4-7, whatever the hell that is. They know it wasn’t that, so don’t even try it. So, what was it? Final answer please.”

Kate tried to fight the urge to respond. She shook her head side-to-side, but in her mind’s eye, she saw herself in the lab, preparing it, worrying that it wouldn’t work, or that it would harm their brains, turn them to… mush… the drug they had given her… She had to…

“What was it? Tell us.”

“I gave… my babies…”

He leaned over her. “Speak up, Princess. We can’t hear you. Operators are standing by to record your answers.”

“I gave… couldn’t… gave my babies…”

“Yes, that’s it, gave your babies what?”

“Gave my babies…”

He sat up. “Jesus, you guys hearing this? She’s fried.” He closed the door. “Time for plan B.” He did something in the corner of the room.

She couldn’t focus.

Then an alarm, and water, falling from the ceiling. Lights flashing now, even brighter than the lights before. Kate squeezed her eyes shut. How much time had passed? A loud sound, more of them. Gun fire. The door exploding.

The ugly man fell, bloody. They unstrapped her, but she couldn’t stand, she flowed out of the seat onto the ground like a child going down a water slide.

She could see him — the soldier from the van. He wore a backpack. He handed another man something. The man was scared, he put his thumb on it. The voices were muffled, like she was underwater.

The soldier took her face in his hands. “Gate? Dan view cheer bee? Gate?” His hands were warm. The water was cold. She licked her lips. She should have drunk some. Still so thirsty.

He jumped up, more gun blasts. He left. He was back. “Dan view foot your harms houuround bee?” He held her arms, but she couldn’t move them; they fell, lifeless, to the ground. They were made of concrete.

He darted back to the door and threw something.

He picked her up in both his arms, strong arms. He ran. Ahead of them a wall of glass and steel exploded. Shards hit her, but they didn’t hurt.

They were flying. No, falling. He held her tight, with only one arm now. He reached back, trying to get something.

Then they were yanked back, caught on something. She flew, fell from his arms, but he held her, by one arm. She dangled as he glided above, suspended by strings from a white cloud. His grip was slipping, she was too wet, her clothes were wet. She was falling.