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Riding in the back of the Steed instead of up front set James’s teeth on edge. Pissed him off to allow Kelton to call the shots, but there was nothing he could do about it—for the moment. Once they touched down, James would call it as the scenario unfolded. He’d call it, while he let Kelton believe he was still in control...when, in fact, he was so out of control James feared he’d soon come completely unhinged.
“About time you shared your plan,” James said to keep up the charade.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, so you could work around it. Find a way to thwart me.” The usually stoic doctor waved his hands around while he spoke. “I cannot understand your desire to capture a man who’s better off dead. Why spend thousands—no, millions—of taxpayer dollars waltzing a worthless piece of shit through the system? Because of your blind commitment to laws that fail to serve at even a minimal level?”
“Because how justice is served is not up to you and me.”
“My brother didn’t get any kind of justice!” Fury rode in the voice blasting through James’s headset.
Keeping Kelton riled would help distract him, and Angie would be free to continue texting with her left hand, the one Kelton couldn’t see without craning forward. James was also careful to keep the wrist unit Angie had slipped him out of Kelton’s view, but managed to keep up with the messages going back and forth between Angie, HQ, the boys, and Broughton.
“How does killing Rollins change what you and your brother went through?”
“This isn’t about me!”
“It’s about what you were privy to. If you hadn’t been telepathically connected to your brother at the time, you’d never have known how he suffered.”
“But he still suffered. Horribly. That’s the part you keep paying lip service to, but don’t seem to get. He was alive, and could feel everything above where the bullet had gone through his neck. Crows were first, and then at least he was blind to the other creatures, but not to the pain. Rollins needs to feel that kind of horror.”
It was hard to argue with his logic, because in Kelton’s shoes? James wasn’t sure what he’d do. Was he currently driven to serve the justice system? Or was he looking to protect his sons, his daughter, and his colleague, who were all part of this volatile situation? There was potential for any or all of them to be caught in the crossfire if he didn’t take Kelton and Rollins down himself, because Kelton might be revenge-motivated, but Rollins would shoot first, ask questions later.
Timing would be critical.
Angie tipped her thumb up just enough for James to see it. She’d finished her text messages.
Time to bring Kelton back under control. “You’ll have your chance to tell him today. To make sure he understands. You’ve worked long and hard to reach this point. Years devoted to the project. I’m impressed you managed it all while creating ETCETERA and establishing a reputation in the international arenas of science, research, and law enforcement. I don’t think anyone else has ever accomplished such a feat.”
James lowered his voice ever so slightly, and opened the door to a subject he’d often heard Kelton tackle with great passion. “No one else had the vision or the fortitude to champion a subject so much of the world considers bogus. It still amazes me that parents believe their children have imaginary friends. Why can’t their minds open just enough to believe their offspring? Understand children are born with the ability to communicate silently?”
Kelton sighed. “If I could just have the children to educate, I’d change the world. But thanks to the whiners, the philosophers proclaiming that training children is unethical, I’m thwarted whenever an opportunity arises. And they do. Children are abandoned. Slip through the cracks of society, and I could have them. Give them a purpose. Provide an education a million times better than what the government offers in public schools. How is that immoral?” His hands lay still in his lap now.
He glanced over at James. “Look at your grandson Dhillon, for instance.”
What the fuck? “You’ve worked on Dhillon?”
“His trips to ETC were never wasted. Yes, Matt had him in the cardiac research program, but there was extra time available to provide him with tools he’d not have otherwise.”
“He’s very gifted.” And if Kelton had fucked with the boy’s mind, there’d be more than hell to pay.
“He will be a great healer one day, because his energy was transformed by the intersection of two sources. One, his own genetic heritage, the other being the extraordinary combination of electrical and universal power generated by Rachel to reestablish his life-force. CT scans confirmed what I observed through other methods. Provided evidence of specific patterns and incongruities of hers which are now present in the boy.
“Interesting.” No way could James let on how completely pissed he was that Kelton had meddled with the boy’s mind. “Will he be able to restart a heart the way Rachel can?”
“Yes, one day. But it will take practice, plenty of repetition on insignificant vertebrates prior to advancing to larger mammals.”
“Not a fucking chance.” Shit. He shouldn’t have let the words escape. “Dhillon loves animals, and would never agree to experimenting on them. Or on anyone.”
“And there. The perfect example of why children should not be encouraged to become emotionally invested in pets. Filthy creatures, with lifespans so fleeting they make pathetic companions, and are better suited for experimental purposes.”
Was Kelton purposely pushing James’s buttons? Or was he so obtuse, so completely out of touch with reality, that he didn’t get how fucking offensive his ideas were? James flicked a glance forward and noted Angie’s white-knuckled grip on the control. Yes, she had her helmet speakers tuned to the in-cabin conversation. Good thing she was busy flying this bird, or she’d be back there beating Kelton senseless, then shoving him out the door for a short trip through thin air.
Time for another change of subject.
“Where is Rollins now?”
“Approaching from the north, and his pilot just informed him they’re thirty minutes away from where the helicopter is waiting for him.”
“What about his recon men?”
“They’ll be arriving about thirty minutes before Rollins.”
That would make it tight. James wanted to be on the ground to welcome them, but it was looking more like Nathan, Tyler, and Gerald would have to do the honors.
“My team will neutralize them upon arrival, and take over the communications with Rollins. We’ll need you to run interference at that point so he doesn’t get suspicious.”
“You told me that before we left this morning. Do you always repeat things incessantly?”
Only when dealing with someone whose synapses were completely screwed up. “Repetition is a good tool when dealing with volatile situations. It keeps everyone on the same page.”
Kelton lapsed into silence, which James hoped was a good thing. It was from his perspective, because the man was driving him nuts. Had this outrageous person always been there inside Kelton?
He thought about Grace. She’d had a run-in with the doctor years earlier and had, ever since, been cautious around him. Always said she didn’t trust him, but didn’t distrust him. Was that a gut feeling kind of thing? Or was it based on information others weren’t privy too?
Grace had been on a mission when Sarah, her half-sister, suddenly married Kelton, a relationship Grace had always seemed respectful of, but it didn’t seem to change her opinion of the man.
In any case, Christopher Kelton was unraveling now. Making no effort hide to his intention to torture another human being. One whose mind he’d been camped in for several months.
Months. “I was surprised Rollins was bright enough to come up with the drugs he used on Alexandra.”
“Ha. He’s an idiot. I had to guide his hand the entire way.”
“Figures he wasn’t smart enough to do it on his own.” James was careful now. “I assumed he had some talented chemists in his back pocket.”
“The project originally came to ETCETERA’s research department because of an ongoing issue with paralytic rabies and paralytic shellfish toxin, current issues in South America. We were recruited to create a series of products ranging from treatments to antidotes, and vaccines.”
“And you were successful.”
“Of course.”
“But it gave you an idea.”
“Can you imagine how easy it would be to control whole countries? To incapacitate subjects before working on their minds? Have them completely open to suggestion? And have the ability to reverse the effects and also remove memory of the occurrence, while the specific information applied during the period of control remains intact?”
Appalling. James was glad everything going through the helmet mics was being heard at HQ and recorded. When this mission was over, Kelton’s career, and his directorship of ETC would be over. Would he be prosecuted? Sticky question, because he didn’t exist, legally. He was something referred to as a world citizen, with complete identification for many countries, yet none of those countries, including the US, had any record of Dr. Christopher Kelton.
No, he’d never be formally charged with anything, but likewise, he’d never be free to walk on US soil again. Of that, James was certain.
“So you developed a way to extend the paralytic qualities of a known drug, in order to mimic the diseases you were contracted to fight?”
“Exactly.”
“Mutations of the rabies and shellfish toxins?”
“No, they’re too unstable. I went back to the root of the original paralytics. Curare. A plant-based substance used on poison darts hundreds of years ago. In layman’s terms, it disables the musculoskeletal system while not affecting involuntary muscles.”
“I thought poison darts killed?”
“No. Curare was originally used on prey animals, to paralyze them so the hunter could catch up and kill them.”
“Why not use something to just kill them outright?”
“Because then the meat would be tainted. With curare, the meat could still be eaten. How primitive beings figured that out, no one will ever know, but it’s possible people were affected by the plant itself, unable to move, but then it would wear off. That aside, we sent scientists to remote areas to test plants, and we found the dalonea analeas, a plant from which we can extract a liquid that, mixed with a more well-known paralytic, affects the subject indefinitely.”
“And allows the blinking of eyes,” added James.
Kelton shook his head. “Ridiculous assumption about a simple side-effect. The acrid odor of the liquid makes a subject blink rapidly, and because the body is assimilating the drug at exactly the same time, certain actions and reactions are counteracted. Neurotransmitters, receptors, synapses...all very complicated.”
His way of saying the explanation would be over James’s head. Annoying, but possibly true.
The speakers made a click sound, which meant Angie had keyed her mic, a signal to the men on the ground waiting for them. “Ten minutes out,” she said.
Kelton put his hand over the buckle of his safety harness, and James said, “You’ll need to keep that on until we’re on the ground.”
“No.” He hit the release and jerked the webbing over his head. “You’re not in control here.”
James nodded. “Remember, we’re not landing at Luna.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my memory.”
Just the rest of his mind. His being anxious to jump out the door could come in handy, and give James a few extra seconds to open the COS and have a word with Broughton. Then, because Angie wasn’t going to shut down the rotors, the blowing snow would drive Kelton directly to the waiting truck, and blind him to Broughton while he hopped out and slid under the tarp in the back.
“Gerald will ferry us in from the drop zone, correct?”
Landing zone, actually, if a person wanted to quibble. “Yes.” The twins were to maintain their hidden positions. Not that Kelton didn’t know where they were, but out of sight just might be out of mind. Who knew, with the state Kelton was in?
***
Broughton’s knee screamed when he unfolded from the compartment and tried to run through the snow. Did run. He’d pay for it later, but he’d fucking managed to do what needed to be done, and Kelton, the lunatic, had no idea he was there, which swung the advantage to the Meyers team.
Taking a spare helmet into the COS had allowed him to stay in touch with what was going on, and, combined with his wrist unit, kept him aware of the entire situation. Broughton was armed. Prepared to deal with the volatile situation. Good chance not everyone would come out of this one alive.
At least not those in contact with Kelton. Broughton was convinced the doctor intended to use the drug on more than Rollins, and the likely candidate would be James. The saving grace? Their group was all wearing high-tech blackout gear. Created to mask body heat, the man-made fabric was also tough enough to repel a knife, so one would hope it couldn’t be penetrated by a hypodermic needle either.
But hadn’t Eve’s research determined the plant extract could be administered topically? What would happen if it was applied alone, and not in combination with the other drug? Good question. He’d text Eve first chance he got. Hopefully that would be before there was a guinea pig among them.
The crunching of snow under the truck’s tires grew louder. Deeper snow. Why, if they were approaching the ranch?
“Umph.” He nearly bounced out the back when they hit a hole of some kind. Off. This was off. They should be on the main lane, or a small road, but he could hear the scrape of branches against the side of the truck.
Why the deviation in the plan? He shifted just enough to touch the button for illumination, and wasn’t surprised by what he read on his wrist unit.
Angie, from far above, reported the truck’s progress toward a side entrance instead of the main entrance. She also noted the windows were tinted, so it hadn’t been possible to confirm that Gerald was the driver, or even if he’d been alone in the vehicle prior to picking them up.
Christ, barely on the ground, and things were already going sideways. Broughton was a sitting duck if the wrong person noticed him, so he edged toward the back—glad the dirty old tarp was too frozen to smell as foul as it looked, and didn’t move much when he shifted position. When they slowed to rumble across a cattle guard, he slipped off the lowered tailgate and lay flat in the snow until the vehicle rounded a curve, grateful for the white camo outer gear he was wearing.
Once under the cover of trees, the snow wasn’t as deep, and he was able to make his way to where the cabins were located, and spotted the truck parked out front of the one prepped for Rollins, third from the south end.
Broughton leaned his back against a tree, sent a text with his location, and asked for an update. The reply came quickly.
ALL CAMS OFF B4 TRCK THRU GATE. J + G IN TRUCK KELTON IN C3
So Kelton had his own plan and the technology to shut down the cameras. Being in Rollins’s head, of course he’d have access to the control codes, so it made sense. Leaving James and Gerald in the truck while he went into the cabin also made sense if he was doing something like drugging the food, or spreading the substance on every surface Rollins was likely to touch.
Broughton worked the tiny keys to send an unabbreviated text. No way was he taking chances with a misunderstanding, and sure, they’d probably already thought of it, but better to err on the side of caution.
BEWARE OF SURFACE/TOUCH CONTAMINATION.
With the cameras off, Broughton was also free to creep closer, maybe peer through a window. That thought turned to dust when the front door opened. Kelton climbed back in the truck, and they drove past the rest of the cabins, then through the wide-open doorway of a barn. Gerald closed the double doors so the truck was hidden, and Broughton could only guess that they’d all be hiding in the root cellar at the far end of the structure.
A tiny vibration at his wrist had him checking the message, and it was what he’d expected.
CAMS BK ON.
And it was followed with, 10 MINUTES TIL ROLLINS MEN ARRIVE...20 MINS TIL ROLLINS.
Time to secure himself a spot. Tyler was in an equipment shed to the right, Nathan in a tree behind the cabin. Broughton looked up into the thick fir boughs above him. Fuck. His knee was going to hate this. Hell, what was a little pain in the grand scheme of things?