Setting: ATF Universe
Page 9
The headache woke him up. It was a driving, blinding pain between his temples. He groped with his free hand to feel for a wound of some kind. Free hand? He peeled an eye open and the first thing that met his vision was a machine. The box with green and red digital lines and numbers was the only light in the dark room. He spotted an outline in the darkness next to his aching head. It was a bedstand of sorts and the distinct image of a pitcher was visible. He sat up and hissed as his body wavered, threatening to spill out of the bed. He tried to reach for the water vessel and frowned as his right arm wouldn't move.
"What the hell?" he grunted, pulling hard. "Jesus..." He winced as a shrill alarm blasted his ear. "...Christ, what kinda hospital is this?" he curled up, pressing his head into the pillow, covering his ear with his left hand. It didn't help, the awful ringing persisted. He clenched his eyes shut and they twitched as the sweat poured down his face and into them. He tried to pull away from the restraints again, throwing his legs off the bed.
"That won't do at all!" a sharp voice addressed him.
His legs were tossed back on the bed and his head was shoved hard onto the pillow. He tried to fight back, but the arms were stronger and pressed hard on both his shoulders. Through the haze of the blinding pain, a new trauma occured. The scent... antiseptic... he knew that scent. A face appeared in his subconscious... auburn hair... killer eyes... a syringe... He blinked and shook the image free, only to have another take it's place. A red body with dozens of legs and snapping claws... deadly plague... plague... dead... .His eyes shot open and he blinked against the harsh light that had appeared above him. She was close, he could feel her hot breath on his neck. He managed to muster up a bit of saliva and spit it at her.
"Fuck off Bitch!"
"You have a rather short fuse," she noted, feeling him weakening. "If you don't calm down I'll bring Lucifer in to babysit you. He does miss you so..."
Lucifer? He frowned as the red centipede appeared in his brain. "Aw shit..." he grunted, struggling against her, as the terrifying ordeal reappeared.
"Or maybe I'll let him play with that arrogant blond who you seemed so taken with... There is that lovely, cold table in the lab and those straps..." She watched his eyes widen in horror, his flushed face pale and the Adam's apple bobbing. All the fight left him and he sank back, defeated.
"That's better." She moved away and adjusted the tangled lines on his hand, before flipping the switch.
Vin's weary eyes followed her as she moved around the small room. There was no clock, but in the corner of the box with the green and red lines and numbers, was the figure 02:00:45. Two a.m. His confused mind tried to put the jambled pieces together. Last night... a cold room... strapped to a gurney... eight o'clock. Six hours had passed. He eyed the small room again as she wrote in a log book. A pitcher of water stood nearby, condensation huddled on it's yellow plastic skin. A bag of potato chips, a sandwich wrapped in plastic and a box of cookies were on a tray next to the pitcher. He swiped the sweat from his face and eyed the pitcher again. God, he was thirsty. He sat up and tried to reach it again, but it was just beyond his grasp.
As if sensing his eyes on the prize, she commented without looking up. "All in good time. If you're a good little lab rat, you'll get your reward."
"Why ya doin' this?" Vin asked, "Why ya after Bucklin?"
"Bucklin?" she laughed and closed the log book. She rose and crossed the room to a metal cart. It was the only other object in the room, other than the chair she'd been sitting on. She laughed again and wheeled the cart over. "How touching!"
Vin flushed with color at his mental slip up. It was name he alone used to address his big-hearted friend, whose dark blue eyes filled with warmth every time he used it. Vin pulled back slightly when the large needle came out of the top drawer of the cart.
"Not to worry, I've already inserted a central line." She paused and drew the blood, eyeing the pain-filled eyes. "I must say, the symptoms are appearing much quicker than I'd anticipated." She capped the vial and carefully noted the time and date on it. She put in a small plastic case on the chair. "I suppose since you'll never see 'Bucklin' again..." she paused and saw his brows furrow and watched him swallow hard. Was the pain from his illness or from his aching heart? That gave her a bigger smile. "My father was James Newlander." She handed him the pitcher, which had a straw in lieu of a spout. She removed some more tools and watched his eyes grow wide in apprehension as he consumed a large amount of water.
"...s'that supposed t'mean somethin' t'me?" Vin replied without looking at her. He took a few minutes to collect his breath, having drank so quickly. He eyed the small room again and wondered if his last breath would be drawn here. He shivered as a mental picture of dead lab rats lying in the trash appeared.
"He was with the Bureau over twenty years and they murdered him!" She snapped, gripping the bedrails with both hands hard.
Vin looked at the flashing eyes and saw the lunacy very clearly. Newlander? He cocked his head and a grainy image appeared of a newspaper photo. Before he could grasp it... it was gone. He'd need more, he'd have to press her. He rubbed his eyes hard, pushing the pain back.
"Buck didn't murder anybody." he said tiredly.
"I was there!" she hissed, eyes flashing. "It wasn't long after graduation." her eyes glazed over and her voice trailed off, then grew hard again. "They lied to his superiors, said he was a 'dirty cop' that he murdered his own men. They... they..."
"They?" Vin puzzled and then thought back on the word 'graduation'. He did the math and frowned. It had to be a long time ago, the words from the first note came to mind. Little Boy Blue... Suddenly the other half of 'they' appeared. "Ya killed Frank Delassi?" he said in horror and watched her smile.
"That was an accident... they were only supposed to torture him... to make Wilmington come to me. But actually I like this plan much better." She smiled so evilly it made Vin flinch. "He'll kneel in front of me and kiss my feet... he'll beg," her eyes lit up with an unholy glow, "... he'll grovel... " she paused and smiled slowly, "then I'll listen to him scream... and watch when he becomes a human rocket. Three cheers for the red, white and blue..."
"Yer nuts..." Vin grunted, shaking his head at her lunacy.
"Speaking of which," she yanked the sheet back and placed her hand on his crotch.
"What are ya doin'!" Vin sat up, ignoring the room spinning around.
"Getting a urine sample, I need to measure the toxic... Ow!" She jerked back when the underside of her wrist was gripped painfully. "Fine, have it your way. I'll have Tony come in and assist me." She locked onto the blue eyes which gave no quarter. The grip on her wrist intensified. She didn't flinch, but raised an eyebrow and stared back. "Understand this, if you persist in this fashion, I'll secure your other limbs and let Tony entertain himself." She felt the pressure leave up a little and saw the hot eyes flinch. They darted around the room, like a rat seeking a hole in the wall.
"Ya sick fuckin' bitch..." Vin pulled his hand back and snatched the urinal before she could. He wondered why she didn't object until he realized he was wearing underwear. It was impossible for him to get his shorts off with his arm tied down. He pressed his back against the bed and stared at the ceiling. He felt his face grow warm as her hands moved. He mentally drew up an image of Lucifer and his army running over her body, while it was tied down. The stinger plunged over and over into her eyes and then the beast crawled down her throat as she screamed.
"There now, that wasn't so bad," she poured the urine off into a small plastic container and snapped a lid on. "Now roll over so I can record your temperature." She saw the hostile face screw up and a fist clench. His eyes moved to the instruments on the tray, zoning in on one in particular. "Yes, I could get the recording from your ear... but you've misbehaved."
Vin eyed her cautiously and rolled to his right, grabbing the rail with his left hand. His eyes rested on the shorts, next to the pile of clothes on the floor. He waited until her hand touched his hip and moved.
It happened so fast, she was caught off guard. His fist caught her hard on the breast, sending a wave of pain through her body. She gasped and doubled over, and that quickly he spun, forcing her back against him in a choke hold. She couldn't breathe and saw black spots dancing in front of her eyes. She heard his satisfied grunts and tried to worm free.
"Understand this, ya ugly demon seed... I'm gonna tie yer fuckin' ass up and let that thing loose on ya... I hear tell they like dark, moist places."
She actually panicked for a minute, until the sirens rang out. She heard him cursing and yanking at the secured arm. It seemed like forever until Tony appeared. She saw the large fist fly by and heard Vin's cry of pain. The pressure disappeared and she sank to her knees. It took several minutes, but she rose on shaky legs and gripped the rail. Tanner was curled in a ball hand covering his throbbing groin. He was blind with pain and didn't have the energy or oxygen to object. She nodded her head at her assistant.
"You okay?" Tony asked.
"I'm fine... he caught me with my guard down. It won't happen again," she hissed and picked up the thermometer. "Mr. Tanner will cooperate... and I've changed the vital sign appraisals. Every two hours instead of four," she ordered, and saw the victim's blues eyes flash in hostility. "Is that another objection?"
"... yer gonna be the prize bitch in yer cell block... hope yer fonda brooms..." Vin grunted, in such pain he was beyond caring. His head was pounding with such force it created a wall of red in his vision. The pain between his legs matched it in intensity.
"Get him on his belly..." she shrieked, snapping on a new pair of plastic gloves.
"Shut up Pretty Boy..." Tony snarled, turning Vin and slapping his backside hard enough to produce a red imprint. He moved to the head of the bed and pressed his hands on Tanner's shoulders, forcing his slight frame into the mattress. "Now that is one tight, little ass..." he whispered in Vin's ear and saw the face flush.
Vin bit his lip and his whole body went tense as the probe recorded his temperature.
"One hundred point two... hmmm..."
The pressure on his face from the cloth limited his breathing. He felt his eyes drooping and tried to surrender. Then he was flipped over and air became available again. He sucked it greedily and turned his aching head away from the sinister duo.
"Not so fast," she pinched his leg and caused the eyes to jerk open. "We're not done yet."
"I am..." Vin mumbled, closing his eyes. "Shit!" he yelped, body jerking and eyes wide as a small electrical charge went through him.
"A cattle prod... very effective." She noted and stared down at the confused eyes. The blinding headache would be followed by the severe body ache, confusion and anxiety as the fever rose. The glands would swell and make it difficult to swallow. But that was in the near future. She wanted to see if his nerve endings were challenged. He needed to drink more water as well, so she could flush his kidneys. She nodded to Tony, who lifted the now limp body and she pressed the straw to his lips.
"...don't wanna..." Vin mumbled, blinking his eyes.
"Drink!" she ordered, "Do you want to be punished again?"
"...hah..." Vin snorted, raising a defiant eyebrow. "...gonna kill me?"
"Tony, tilt his head back and hold his nose..."
"No... " Vin pulled away and took the container. He sipped for awhile and his eyes started to slide shut.
She took the pitcher away and secured his other hand to the rail. She moved to his feet and pulled out a small group of pins.
"OW!" Vin yelped, as the pain pricked the sole of his foot. The pattern was repeated up and down his torso. He was forced to drink again and while she wrote some notes, he dozed off. She felt around his abdomen and he never fliched or showed signs of distress. She pulled the sheet up and gathered up her notes.
"Any problems with the others?"
"No," Tony replied, "Dunne's not doing so good, Larabee really whipped him. He never moved... didn't eat his dinner. Larabee gave me some lip but I shut him up. We done for the night?"
"Yes, I need some sleep," she admitted, feeling bone weary. "The monitors will go off if there's trouble. He'll grow weaker and more disoriented with each passing hour. I'll collect more samples in the morning. Amahl wants a copy of our little lab rat's progess..." she moved the long, matted hair from his face.
"Did you get the money?" He said as they turned the light off and left the unconscious man to his disturbed sleep.
"No, he wants to see the video of Tanner's depreciating condition. We're meeting at six p.m. He'll view the material in the observation room with Tanner on the other side of the glass." She paused as they approached the sleeping quarters. "Then he'll wire his lawyer and have half the money transferred to a new Swiss Bank Account. Once we get the confirmation, he gets half the samples."
"...and Tanner?" Tony asked, staring wolfishly at the ripe body. She peeled the lab coat off and had a form fitting body suit on under it.
"I haven't decided," she paused, eyeing the tight buldge straining against his jeans. "He's quite resilient... determined... stubborn... that might give him some extended time. One one hand, I should record every change... until he's dead. On the other hand, if he lingers past the fourth..."
"You don't need him anymore, right?" Tony leaned against the doorframe. "You got all that money... why hang around? What if the Feds catch wind of us? I can do 'im tomorrow night and dump his body offshore."
"NO!" she said to the thought, "I've never had a human subject. I'll need to do an autopsy."
"When?" Tony asked, "You said as soon as Wilmington buys it, we're on a speed boat to Florida and then a private jet out of the country."
She sighed and eyed the clock. If her projections were correct, he'd be dead by the early morning hours of July 4th. There would still be time... "Goodnight," she said, "Wake me at seven. I want to watch the news. I want to see his face when he gets that tape. Maybe I'll call him... Oh that would be a treat!" she noted of Buck Wilmington."
"But what about Tanner?"
"Let me worry about Tanner. If worse gets to worse, he'll end up scattered to the four winds like his three friends." She shut the door and slid into a long, satisfied sleep.
While the dungeon mistress slipped into a contented rest, the victim of her torment was not so lucky. The nightmare started again. He was strapped to a chair... and dozens of the red beasts covered the floor. The surged like a flood and covered his feet, ankles and legs. They dropped from the ceiling, hitting his shoulders. The stingers plunged into his tender flesh and the screaming began.
"Vin!" Chris sat up, all the breath gone from this tormented body. He was drenched in sweat and swiped the river that flowed down his face. He slid his legs onto the ground and gripped the sides of the mattress, taking several deep breaths. The nightmare was worse than the real events of the day. Varied images of J.D.'s bloody body and Vin's helpless one crowded his head. The centipede was magnified, as large as Vin and using it's pinchers to attack his jugular. Blood gushed from Vin's eyes and mouth. "Fuck..."
He let his shaky limbs lead him to the bathroom. The low wattage bulb over the mirror revealed the well-honed body slick with sweat. He eyed the swollen face and winced at the bruised, discolored flesh that looked back at him. What J.D.'s fists didn't do, Tony's did. He eyed the purple marks on his ribcage and ran a hand over the area; not broken but for how long? What sadistic games did she have lined up for the next day. Two days... two days until the climax with Buck. Two days to get himself and his friends the hell out of here.
"Well?" he asked the lost face in the mirror. "Any ideas?"
Ezra paused in the large room outside Mike Ryan's office. Most of the team were already in the field, only two members were in the large work area. His green eyes winced as they encountered the slumped set of shoulders several feet away. Sitting at a makeshift desk, the rogue looked up as the gambler approached. He offered a large cup and a bag.
"Black, no sugar. One raspberry and one cheese," he noted of the coffee and danish.
"Thanks." Buck nodded, making no attempt to eat. He sipped the strong brew and raised an eyebrow. "This ain't Tanner blend..."
"Bite your tongue," Ezra frowned, painfully taking in the gaunt face, dark circles under anguished eyes and the shadow of a beard. "Haggard..."
"You're too kind," Buck sighed, rubbing his eyes and then the back of his neck.
"More nightmares?"
"Same shit... different scenario." Buck paused, "This time it was the desert... buzzards eating J.D.'s eyes... Chris's were gone already. They were tied up, beaten, bloody... Chris's arm was missing... " Buck pounded the desk. "I'm sick of this Ezra... I can't sleep at night... can't function during the day... Christ when will it end?" He buried his exhausted head onto his folded arms on the makeshift desk.
Ezra had no words, nothing he'd say would comfort his friend. He moved in and gently massaged the back of Buck's neck. He felt the muscles give way and a brief respite from the tension. The phone rang and Ezra picked it up, beating Buck's weary hand.
"Standish, ATF... yes... right away... I... very well."
"What?" Buck's head rose and he saw the change in the conman's eyes.
"The F.B.I. intercepted a delivery by Federal Express. It's a videotape with your name on it. They're waiting in Flushing's office."
Buck pushed past the southerner and flew out the door. He took the steps quickly, not wasting time on the elevator. The small group looked up as he entered.
"Where is it?" Buck demanded.
"Take it easy, Wilmington," Flushing addressed the sharp tone and flushed face on the younger agent.
"Don't you tell me to take it easy!" Buck growled, throwing the glass of water someone handed him against the nearest wall. "I got friends out there... damn, fine lawmen... missing... hurt... taken by a bunch of terrorists. Where do you get off..."
"If you won't calm down and cooperate, I'll have you removed." Flushing warned.
"No," a new voice said firmly, "you won't and show some respect for the badge."
"Mike?" Buck's eyes shot up in surprise as the tall, lean man stood by his shoulder. "I thought you were with your team."
"I am..." the senior agent replied, gripping Buck's shoulder once.
"Thanks," Buck whispered, letting the veteran lead him to a vacant chair.
"FedEx received it last night at seven fifty p.m. in Leesdale, North Carolina."
"North Carolina?" Josiah said, entering the room. He'd been phoned by the Flushing group as well. "I thought they were headed to Georgia," he challenged them. Flushing just shrugged and pushed the play button.
The first image was of J.D.'s terrified face. It was a close up and the prior beatings from his tenure was evident.
"Jesus, Kid..." Buck sighed, his hand nearly reaching out to brush the errant dark locks from the youth's forehead. "Chris?" he cried out... the green eyes were dark and glassy, a cruel grin split his face.
"He's high..." one agent noted.
"You think?" Josiah commented straightfaced and Ezra hid a grin.
It wasn't long, but by the time it ended with Chris screaming 'kill the beast' and a brief glimpse of J.D.'s bloodied, battered face, still and silent on the ground, Buck was as white as a sheet. Then there was the unholy scream from Chris and feral look in his glassy eyes as the blade glinted above his head.
"No... No..." Buck gasped, rising from his chair. "Chris... don't..." the thud sent Buck rocking hard back on his heels. His knees buckled slightly and Mike Ryan steadied him and sat him down.
"Anything?" the dark haired team leader asked of the F.B.I. leader.
"No." he replied, rewinding the tape. "No prints... we're sending a team to Leesdale..." a phone ringing interrupted him. He crossed the room and picked it up. "Yes? When? Put it through..." he motioned to Buck.
Buck took the phone and waited, then felt his blood boil when the garbled voice came on. "Did you enjoy the show Bucklin?"
Buck winced as if a knife gutted him when the normally warm Tanner nickname abused his ears. "I will kill you." he said in a calm voice that surprised him and the others.
"I'm afraid that's not part of the equation."
"You're a coward... or you'd show your face."
"Oh but that's part of the game... I thought Dunne did rather well. He screams for you in the still of night, you know. Over and over until he's hoarse or until the pain overwhelms him."
"Shut up!" Buck screamed, "Who the fuck are you? Answer me! Why are you doing this?"
"There will be no atonement for what was done. Only when your blood runs like a river under my feet, will the scales be balanced. Tune in again for the conclusion of this episode... same Buck time... same Buck channel..." the voice mimicked the old Batman television series.
Buck continued to grip the phone, seemingly unaware of the dial tone blasting into his ear. Flushing took it and replaced it on the cradle. "Let's go over what we have..." he said, flipping a thick folder open.
Buck stared at the table and zoned out the arrogant F.B.I. agent's voice. He'd put up with this bullshit until the meeting was over. He owed Mike the rest of the day, but after that, all bets were off. He'd find the bastards who had J.D. and Chris. He'd start in North Carolina where the tape was mailed from. Vin... he winced again, hearing his insulting words and seeing the sharpshooter's face in the hospital lobby that night. What if Vin was dead? What if he never go to make amends?
Time lost all meaning. Seconds, minutes, hours... days? He sighed and blinked rapidly as the slow parade of sweat drops rolled down his heavy lids. His hand had long grown weary of swiping them. He turned his aching head and coughed, expelling something onto his chin and the sheets. The coughing spells left him dizzy and made his chest heavy. A tight band of pain gripped his tender skull with a cruel hand and with each movement of his heavy limbs, the joints vocalized their protest. His eyes grew tired of the same walls, same view of his right arm tied to the rail, same view of red and green lines on the monitor, and he slid them shut. Sometimes if he concentrated, he could remember where he was, other times the void frightened him. If it was a hospital, why weren't his friends here? Nobody ever came except the coat. The masked features were blurry and his head too heavy to lift, but the white coat always moved into his vision.
He closed his eyes and drifted awhile, until a prick in his arm caused his heavy eyes to lift. He saw the blurry coat and his heart began to hammer. The coat meant pain: poking, prodding, pinching and prying. He moved his hand up weakly, pushing the coat away.
"...no... ple...ease... go... 'way... no... hurts..." Vin whispered, his voice dry and coarse.
She pushed the hand away and capped the vial of blood. The mask covered her face and she wore a heavy garment, gloves and other protective gear. She watched the camera on the wall spring to life, turning and capturing the fevered body on the bed. The blue eyes were glassy and lost in a wet flushed face. She recorded his vital signs, pleased that he was fighting so hard. She was afraid after the first twelve hours, that he was going downhill too fast. But now his body was adjusting to the virus and trying to fight back. His temperature was just one hundred point nine and his blood and urine confirmed that the toxin was doing it's job. She eyed the feeble body and pushed the record button on the remote in her pocket
"July second, two p.m, subject has been housing S-470-16 for eighteen hours. Symptoms are consistant with time elasped. Fever, headache, maliase are now accompanied by congestion in nose and chest. Subject is breathing heavily through his mouth and expelling phlegm with difficulty." She paused, eyeing the shivering body and dulled eyes. "Chills and stiffening of joints have appeared. Update at five p.m. during demonstration for client." She grabbed his left shoulder harshly and pushed his body over. The small cry of pain confirmed the already tender joints. Her fingers cruelly prodded the flesh from the base of his skull, down his back, over his hips and onto his legs. She ignored his cries of pain as her callous fingers left a throbbing path down his body.
Vin's face was pressed into the rail and his tired eyes raked in the sight of the same crack in the wall he looked at each time the coat rolled him over. God it hurt... like no other pain he'd felt. His whole body was screaming. It was so hard to breathe... The fingers were pushing and pulling his flesh and he cried out, trying to lift his arm to fight. Why didn't Chris stop the coat?
"...hris... C...C...C...hris..." he pushed his face up hopefully, blinking and squinting, seeking the safe harbor of green eyes.
"How touching." She rolled him back and eyed the clock. She didn't want him fading for his company later. She injected him with penicillin and pushed the button, bringing the back of the bed up. She held the pitcher out and watched his face leap forward, the burning mouth seeking cold water. Just as his tortured lips hit the straw, she cruelly pulled the cup away.
"...no..." Vin choked, his desperate plea dissolving into a severe coughing fit.
She left his struggle for a few minutes, then relented and gave him the water. Like a tired infant, he gulped greedily, the excess spilling over his neck and chest. His left hand rested on her wrist, fearful that the desired prize would be taken. She pulled the nearly empty container away and his face screwed up. The hand gripped her wrist and the beguiling eyes pleaded with her.
"...please... doctor?" Vin squinted at the strange outfitted visitor. "... hurts... find Chris... need..." Vin curled up as a violent pain wracked his abdomen. "Oh... God..." he gasped, eyes clenched shut. It felt like an army of razors were hacking their way through his stomach and heading for his intestinal track. Something was wrong and his heart began to hammer. The voice made a picture in his head. An evil face under reddish hair... the auburn changed to blood red hue and a centipede appeared, large and menacing. Fragmented memories returned, creating a pain so intense it took him away.
She saw his shoulders heaving and nodded, shoving a basin under his mouth as the water came back up. "Subject has experienced vomiting and rigidity to the abdomen." She caught him as his eyes rolled and he slumped. She laid him back and disposed of the basin. She made a mental note to increase his penicillin before the demonstration and have Tony clean him up.
It was barely a whisper, but a thunderous explosion wouldn't have roused the blond faster. His eyes shot open and he winced as every muscle on his tender, battered flesh howled. He raised his head and cocked his ear, listening attentively. A dream... but it seemed so real. Seeking to quench his thirst, he rose and painfully shuffled to the bathroom to get a drink of water. He splashed the cool liquid on his hot skin and the hazy clouds that roamed in his head parted a bit. He shook the lethargy away, like a dog ridding fleas and flexed his sore back. He soaked his hands in the cold water, seeking relief from the swelling. He glanced at the bruised hands and wondered about J.D.'s face and body. Guilt stabbed at him and in his mind's eye he saw the large hazel eyes and winced.
"Fuckin' bitch is mine..." he vowed, flexing his fingers under the icy water.
"...Chrissss..."
His jerked his hands from the water and wheeled his lithe body around. That was no dream; the soft drawl was in the room with him. He moved towards the outer room and saw the lone illumination in the dark cell.
"Vin!" he choked, frozen in place as a close up of the Texan's body appeared on the monitor. "Oh God, Vin..." he eyed the tell tale signs of a serious illness and his heart sank. A wet dark helmut of hair plastered his face, hollow and hopeless. Phlegm stuck to his lips and chin, as well as the pillow. The sheets were soiled and the body shaking with chills. The eyes were the worst, large and lost, they sought refuge. He saw Vin's hand snake through the chrome bed side and the face follow, looking upwards for a shelter in the storm.
"...Chris... there?"
"I'm sorry Vin..." the helpless spectator sank back onto his cot as the image faded away. His head snapped up again as the door opened. He leveled a cold, hard stare at her through a bruised face and one swollen eye. He slowly rose, flexing his back and standing straight, crossing both arms across his chest.
A hail of bullets wouldn't have chilled her more. That single, penetrating circle of green ice cut through her like a laser. She squared her shoulders and tried to shake off the unnerving, almost hynoptic gaze.
"Tony will be arriving in six minutes to take you to the shower room. After cleaning yourself and changing, you will be given a brief time to dine, before practice commences." She waited, but still he stood and stared her down. Wasn't he curious? She stole a sideways glance at the television monitor, seeking to rid herself of the inner tremors caused by his silent strength.
"I've had a rather trying night and day with my blue-eyed lab rat... poor thing he suffers so... calling for you... wondering why you've deserted him." A flinch... just a small one in the left eye... and a single tic in his cheek. That hurt him and gave her a thrill.
"He'll be here where they're scraping what's left of you off every wall in this Hell hole." Chris promised calmly.
"I studied your little group of uh... what was the phrase that blonde slut in the Denver Post called you... the Magnificent Seven..." She struck back, one fist clenched but still the face remained a stone mask. Damn him... she vented silently. "The Magnificent Six just doesn't have the same ring. Of course since you, young Dunne and Buck will join my sick little rat in Hell..."
"Speaking of the Eternal Motel Six for cowards, how is dear old Dad?" Chris hissed and saw her face pinch and go pale, save for two bright red spots on her cheeks. She slapped him hard and he grabbed her wrist. With one stealth move, he flipped her and pulled her back against him, gripping her throat.
"Kill Dunne!" She screamed as his hand grew tighter. Just as she was beginning to lose her struggle, a sharp scream pierced the night air.
"J.D.!" Chris hollered, tugging his hold tighter, "You tell that prick to bring him here or I'll snap your fuckin' neck."
"You release me now or he'll be cut to ribbons... Tony!"
Another scream and Chris's hand wavered. Then a sound of heavy, unsteady feet in the outer hall. Tony appeared in the doorway, dragging J.D. with him. The youth was nearly unconscious, blood running from his nose and mouth. A cut across his forearm was spilling crimson as well. Chris's eyes went to the knife in the henchman's hand, still dripping crimson ribbons.
"Your call, Larabee..." Tony warned. "I'll slit his Achilles tendon..." He placed the knife against J.D.'s lower ankle and Chris relented, releasing the vixen. Another slap to his face followed.
"You're a fool..." she hissed, rubbing her sore throat. "Do you have any idea of the power I possess."
"You're possessed all right," Chris sneered, then jerked his head towards the youth. "Let him go."
"Understand this," she poked his chest, "I need you and Dunne for the show... bloody and missing pieces will do, as long as you still draw a breath. But Tanner is expendible. I can make his remaining hours a living hell. You haven't seen the kind of pain I can cause." She leaned in close when she saw him pale and moisture beads form on his upper lip. Lines of sweat trickled down his neck and she leaned in and licked them off slowly. "That homegrown poison that is ravaging him can be intensified. I can always bring a couple of Lucifer's deadly brothers to visit him..." She whispered in his ear and nibbed the lobe.
Chris pulled back as the water he consumed threated to reappear. Actually that idea appealed to him, covering her in vomit would be an improvement.
"Leave Dunne here and feed them now. Then in ten minutes, take them to the shower room. I'll meet you in the maze." She turned and stormed away.
J.D. was thrown at him and the propelling force knocked them both back onto Chris's cot. He slid free and eased J.D. onto the bed, eyeing the damage on the young man's body. Old and new bruises and cuts melded together in a colorful display. The cut wasn't bad, just enough to bleed good and create a show. He left the silent Bostonian and eyed the lone towel in the bathroom, he ripped it in half and soaked half in the cold water he'd left behind. He returned to find two large hazel eyes looking up at him. He took a deep breath and his pained gaze went from J.D.'s hurt eyes to his bruised fists.
"...Don't Chris... that's... what... she wants... drugged... not your fault..."
Jesus the Kid's easy reply was worse than the physical pain he felt. The guilt was even stronger now. But J.D. was right. "I'm sorry," he said, sitting by the bed and wiping the blood from the still groggy youth's face. "Drugs or not... I could have killed you..."
"Don't!" J.D. pushed the helping hand away and sat up. Chris ripped the dry cloth into strips, while J.D. washed his arm with soap and water in the bathroom. After the bandage was in place, he returned. "Did you see..." he paused, eyeing the vacant monitor.
"Yeah..." Chris sighed, "He's fading... we don't get help to him soon..."
"Don't say that!"
"J.D. you heard that list... it was the who's who of fuckin' deadly diseases..."
"Vin wouldn't give up on you!" J.D. retorted as the door opened.
"I'm not giving..." Chris cut his reply off as the box was pushed in the room by a boot.
"Ten minutes!" Tony warned, locking the door behind him.
"Well?" Tony asked, leading her into narrow entryway. They walked for several feet before it split, a path to each side. "Lights, camera, action..." he pushed a button on the remote in his hand and the lights high above on the catwalk came to life. "Up there," he grunted, pushing her to the right and towards what appeared to be solid wall. He pushed another button the seamless barrier slid open, revealing steps. She quickly trotted up them, to a darkened control booth. The smokey glass prevented anyone from seeing in, but gave a commanding view of the maze below. Nearly a dozen replicated images of two bound figures were scattered throughout the maze. The were tied back to back in chairs, and blindfolded. They were so lifelike, it was amazing. Under each chair was a different explosive and colorful rocket.
"Unbelievable!" She clapped her hands. She spent several minutes trying to determine where the real Larabee and Dunne were. The blond was in black pants and tee shirt, the youth in army fatigues and olive tee shirt. "Incredible... they were worth every penny," she said of the great expense to create the lifelife replicas.
"Come on down and touch 'em..." Tony called out. "But first, push that green button on the panel... .the one on your left."
More lights came on, and the mirrored walls were revealed. Now the dozen images had doubled. The thought of Buck Wilmingon's impossible race against time to find his friends before the bombs began to blast was too much. She laughed and clapped like a child on Christmas morning.
"Push the yellow one..." Tony called out and Dunne's voice echoed from every wall.
"Buck... Buck... Buck help me..."
"How on earth?" She hadn't planned on that and he waved her to join him.
"I recorded him when he was sleeping. Got all kinds of stuff planned for Wilmington. Go on... touch 'em..." He coached as she drew near the first pair of dummy-hostages.
The blond hair was so real and the skin so lifelike and soft it caused her to gasp and pull back. The skin actually gave way when touched. Hairs could be seen on the 'Larabee' arms. She lifted the eye covering and gasped again.
"My God..." she touched the face and expected the sensual lips to sneer. "Amazing..."
"He's gonna be out of his fuckin' mind." Tony promised, "Between Dunne screaming for him and him tripping off explosions and the limbs flying... what a party!"
"Where are they?" she crooked her head and realized how different the perspective was at ground level. From above the path was cleary seen to the exit and freedom outside. But down here... it was a different world.
"Come on..." he took her hand and with three turns, she was at another set of stairs. He led her to an identical booth to the one she was first in. Dunne and Larabee were tied up, side by side and gagged. They had front row seats.
"I love it... " she purred, seeing the events unfolding in Larbee's eyes. She pulled his gag off and saw the familiar sneer curling up. "You'll have front row seats, no extra charge."
"I got an extra charge all planned..." he threatened, "Gonna shove one up that tight ass of yours and blow you clear to Baltimore."
"It happened in here..." Tony interrupted, eyeing the large room. "I trusted that bastard... gave him a job... felt sorry for him. Hometown football hero gone sour. Gambling debts up his ass... living in a fuckin' box... shit... he set me up."
"That was a real chore..." Chris tossed back sarcastically.
"You won't be tossing them funny lines around on the Fourth," Tony shot back, "You and Dunne will watch him like a rat, running through that maze. He can't win... but he won't know that. Every time he gets within a foot or two of the dummies... BOOM... limbs flying at him... burning flesh. Them fucker's are even pumped full of shit that looks like blood and guts... he'll be out of his mind by the time the big one goes."
"You two deserve each other," Chris studied the room and made a mental note of the path to the only escape. So this was where Buck and Frank took down James Newlander and his dirty dozen. That's what the press called them. Government agents, local cops, two attorneys and some politicians. All dirty... taking bribes and killing anyone who got close. They brought guns and coke in from South America and sold them to representatives up and down the East Coast. It was a sweet thing until Buck and Frank smashed the ring. Buck's first case... he was a rookie and Frank was his partner. He flicked an eye to Jamie... J.C. Buck called her. The mystery woman in the parking lot. Six... eight weeks ago he'd met her. J.C. Jamie Newlander... no Delaney... J.C. Delaney.
"You can stop those wheels turning, Chris darling." she ran a hand up his chest and he pulled away. "You can't escape... My my... look at the time. Here I am a mess and company coming. Tony..." she nodded, tying a blindfold on J.D. and pulling him to his feet and prompting him with a small pistol. "You take Larabee back to his cell. I'll... uh... entertain Mr. Dunne..."
"Touch him," Chris dared, standing and throwing off Tony's meaty paw. "Go on..." he glared, taking a step forward.
"Not to worry, Chris," she cooed, running the gun across the tense youth's inner thigh. "My taste runs to rutting beasts, but then you knew that... you were soooo good..." she oozed, watching his face color and eyes flash. She led J.D. away and nodded to Tony. "Get that rat ready, Amahl will be here at five sharp."
"Got it," he called back, "bath time for Pretty Boy..." He laughed and tied a blindfold on Chris before leading him back to his cell. The shackles on his legs made it difficult to walk and by the time they got there, he was running behind. He locked the door and ran to the lab, quickly donning his protective gear. The small room with Tanner in it was just to the side.
"Jesus..." he complained as the foul smell hit him. "You even smell like a rat..." he pulled the sheet down and nudged the body. "Hey Pretty Boy, wake up... bath time..." The body was unresponsive and that disappointed him. He untied Tanner's right arm and lifted him into a chair. He wheeled it next store, where a large tub of tepid soapy water was waiting. The blue eyes shot open as the tender flesh hit the water. "Well now... this might be fun after all..." he shoved the confused face under the water and waited. It came up sputtering and a hand weakly struck out.
Vin coughed and shivered, eyeing the soapy water. He coughed violently, spewing water, phlegm and soap onto the green-clothed chest. He felt his wet hair grabbed and blurry mask appeared.
"Spaceman?" he choked, eyeing the strange head covering.
"Yeah... and you try that again and I'll knock you out of orbit." The heavy suit had him melting already and he roughly turned the weak body, using the large sponge to wash away the grime, filth and other waste that clung to the shivering, confused soul. He saw the blue eyes flash and both weak fists bat at him, when he roughly sponged the lower body.
"...hell ya doin'?" Vin gasped, "...fuckin' takin' m'nuts off... leave me be... go 'way..."
"Sorry, Pretty Boy, the Boss wants you cleaned up for the company."
"Boss?" Vin blinked confused, "Chris?"
"Yeah," Tony laughed at the confused face and hauled him up.
"Damn..." Vin hissed as the ground gave away or where his legs made of rubber. He would have gone right down, but the big body in green wrapped him in a towel and laid him on a large table. The hands were rough... too rough as they dried him off. He tried not to scream but the throbbing in his head and the angry pain in every joint protested. His cries were muffled against the cloth his face was pressed into. By the time he was shoved into a pair of soft cotton pants and a tee shirt, he couldn't hold back anymore and cried out in pain. He curled up, looking for the black curtains that danced by his eyes.
"Not so fast..." Tony warned, wheeling the presentable lab rat into another small room.
"You're late!" Jamie called out, walking over to take Vin's vital signs. The bath had lowered his temperature a little and it hovered near one hundred and one. The other signs remained the same and the labored breathing, coughing and relentless pain were right on track. Soon the disorientation would set in and his mind would fade out. The lungs would fill as the fever rose and he'd drown, coughing and choking on his own fluids. "Get him on the table."
Tony wheeled the unconscious Tanner to the pale green room off the lab and laid him on the table. He drew the sheet up and she connected all the probes and electrodes that would give the foreigners what they wanted.
"I'm fine here," she ordered, watching the fever rise and the victim's skin begin to glisten. "Amahl and is aide will be here in twenty minutes. After a brief show, I'll be dining with him in town and discussing the time frame for Wednesday," she noted of the Fourth of July. "Jafar will remain behind and you give him the blue box, Amahl paid for them." she noted of the tapes of Vin's transformation. He'd already collected some CD's outlining the prelimary experimentatin. She was saving the rest of the final payment. "Don't wait up..."
"Amahl pay for that too?" Tony asked, raking his eyes to her ass and saw her smile. "You got no morals, Lady..." he shoved off and went to rid himself of the heavy suit and eat some dinner.
The show went better than expected and Amahl was impressed with the deterioration he saw in less than twenty four hours. He asked the right questions, took the right notes and left his aide to collection of the video tapes and data. He was more interested in the ripe American woman's body. They left at five thirty for dinner. She drove and allowed his roaming fingers to play on her inner knee.
Jafar paced outside the warehouse, eyeing the blanket and other mementos from the afternoon on the beach. He was hungry and the sooner he collected the merchandise, the better. He eyed his watched and sighed, decided to call the other two and tell them to go on to the restaurant. He'd meet them there. He left the back door open, airing the hot car out, while he dialed.
"All done..." Tony pushed the final button and the tape spit out. It joined the CD and other notes in a dark blue box with a lock. He snapped the lid on and hustled it outside. The Iranian was talking on a cell phone. Tony tried to get his attention, but the dark-skinned man was walking further away, eyeing the beach nearby.
"Fuck' im..." Tony decided, tossing the box under the passenger's seat and heading for the bathroom. All the water he drank setting up the maze was coming through him. He never gave Tanner a second thought as he raced through the lab to the bathroom.
The blue-eyed opossum opened on eye painfully as the large body skittered by on the other side of the glass. The penecillin shot the coat gave him earlier, combined with the bath, gave him renewed strength. He sat up and waited for the room to stop spinning and dropped onto the floor. He went to his knees and it took a few seconds to right himself. He staggered out into the lab and eyed the unopened coke that the green-suited body left. He popped the top and drained half, belching loudly and finishing it. He staggered past the table and saw his body strapped down and a... a... red... snake? no something else... it chilled him and he turned away, gaining the door. He was just about to decide which of the moving floors in his vision was real, when a hand grabbed his shoulder.
"How the fuck did you get loose?" Tony screamed. He'd seen the body in the lab and finshed up, grabbing only a pair of heavy gloves and a mask.
Vin turned and stared hard at the man's eyes. He was about to ask for help. He didn't know where he was? This wasn't a hospital. Who was this guy? Then the eyes came back... and the tortured memories. The tub... the room... the humiliation. He shoved the body hard, and watched as the larger man fell, surprised by his thrust and scared by the deadly consequences of skin contact. The man's dark head clipped the side of a the sink and he fell dazed onto the floor. Vin ran, haphazard and loose, hitting every wall in the narrow corridor. He passed several doors and pulled at the knobs. One had a key in it and he turned it, pressing the door open.
Chris heard the door and rose, crossing the room as far as the leg shackle would take him. It was attached to the wall and gave him room to move around freely. He doubled his hands together, making a crude club and waited. The door opened and for a few tense seconds, neither body moved. Two sets of eyes grew wide with shock and one mouth fell open. Confused blue eyes full of pain met stunned green ones, full of emotion. His heaving chest forced his tongue to work the prize name through his battered lips.
"Vin!"
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