Terms (The Experiments Book 3) (23 page)

Cal was shoved in the room.

Rickie growled.

“Easy,” Stan commanded.

Rickie stood. “Cal-Babe.”

“Down!” A man ordered.

Cal broke free of her assailant’s grip and made her way to Rickie, embracing him. “Thank God you’re OK.”

“You, too, Cal-Babe. Where were you?”

“Sit down!” the man ordered “now.” He pumped his gun.

Cal rolled her eyes, tugged on Rickie and sat down. “Have they said anything?”

“Silence!”

Cal turned her head. “Are we just supposed to sit here and not talk?”

“Yes.”

“How big of a threat is it to you, if we talk? You have us crammed in this room, it’s hot in here. Or haven’t you guys noticed you have close to a dozen expectant mothers.”

“You  ...” he stepped to her. “Are not so tough with the big mouth.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not so tough with the big gun.”

He aimed.

Cal stood strong.

Another man called out. “Enough. Let her go.”

The other man backed off.

Cal returned to Rickie. “Have they said anything?”

Rickie shook his head.

“Billy?” Cal asked.

“Nothing. And you need to keep Rickie calm.”

Stan added. “The monster is showing.”

“Rickie,” Cal grabbed his chin, and turned Rickie’s face to her. “Keep it in check. Because if it’s needed, you’ll only get one shot. Understand? We don’t need it yet.”

“I can’t help it.” Rickie said. “This is the first time I felt that I wasn’t in control.”

Cal gave a curious look to Stan.

“Has to be the threat,” Stan explained. “He feels threatened. How many times has that happened. Not much.”

“You’re not threatened Rickie.” Cal said. “You’re invincible, so don’t even fear them.”

“I don’t,” Rickie said. “Not for me. For you and Billy and even Stan the Toot man.”

Cal giggled as if he were being silly. “I’m fine. We’re all gonna be fine soon. I don’t sweat this at all.”

“Really?” Billy asked. “Why is that? We’re under siege here Cal.”

“Yeah, but uh … mark my words. Jake will do something.” She winked and whispered. “And there are not enough men here to be a force for him.” With confidence, and arrogance, she grabbed on to Rickie’s hand.

***

Rarely fazed, Greg tried to remain cool and calm but was having a hard time doing so. Between family members calling him about their relatives on the island, he had to deal, like everyone else, with the country under national crisis.

“Well, do they know what they’re doing yet?” Greg blasted on the phone.

Dr. Jefferson just watched. He himself had been feigning calls as well.

“Good lord,” Greg rubbed his forehead. “I understand … I understand the US doesn’t negotiate with terrorist. I have forty some employees, their families, and a group of pregnant women, not to mention clinic patients on that island. Thank you.” He slammed the phone.

“Nothing?” Jefferson asked.

“Nothing.” Greg exhaled. “Mark my words, they’re going in. The whole fuckin’ US army is going to storm these locations. You watch. That’s what I would do.” He plopped down. “I need a cigarette.”

“You quit.”

“Time to start.” Hand running roughly down his face in frustration, Greg winced when the intercom beeped.

“Dr. Haynes, Lt. Col Graison on line one,” his secretary said.

“I’m busy.”

“He insists on talking to you.”

“He of all people shouldn’t be calling me.”

“What should I tell him? He’s insistent.”

“Fuck it. I’ll pick up.” After taking a moment, Greg lifted the receiver. “Jake, I can’t tell you anymore than you already know.” Greg paused. His eyes lifted to Dr. Jefferson as he spoke to Jake. “Yes, we do.” Pause. “Yes, we can. What about …” Greg looked at his watch. “Give me twenty minutes. I’ll call you back.” He hung up.

“What’s going on?” Dr. Jefferson asked.

Greg spoke as he dialed the phone, “Graison’s going in.”

***

The briefcase slammed, and Jake gave specific orders to Adams that he was not to be disturbed and would be out of contact for a day or two. He had paperwork that he needed, grabbed his coat off the tree rack and placed it on.

The intercom buzzed. It was a warning from Adams; unfortunately Adams did not get the warning out in time. The door to Jake’s office opened and Colonel Roberts walked in.

“Jake.”

“Colonel Roberts, sir.”

“What are you doing, Jake?”

“I have matters to take care of.”

“Son.” Colonel Roberts closed the door. “We are in the middle of a national emergency.”

“I know this. I am well aware.” Jake said with a raised eyebrow.

“Because of your position in the military, you can not going running about half cocked …”

“Beginning your pardon, sir.” Jake was abrupt, but then calmed himself. “I am far from running off half … cocked.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yes, I do.”

“I can’t let you go,” Colonel Roberts said.

“You have no choice.”

“Really?” Colonel Roberts stated. “Had I not heard what you said, had you merely excused yourself from the room, things would be different. But you were defiant in front of the general.”

“At this moment in my life and career, I don’t care.”

“Jake,” Colonel Roberts gasped. “I have never in my life heard you be like this.”

“Sir, the way I feel …”

“Is no different than the countless spouses that are in the exact same position you are.”

“Those countless spouses are incapable of doing what I can do, and you know that.”

“You think that gives you the right to go against a calculate plan of the United States government. Jake, you know as well as I do, it is vital, vital that everything go off without a hitch.”

Jake chuckled softly in sarcasm.

“What?” Colonel Roberts asked.

“Without a hitch. Sure.” Jake shrugged. “It’ll go off without a hitch. What does that entail? One life, two, my wife’s life. I’m sorry, sir, I can’t let that happen. Not when I can take care of the situation.”

Colonel Roberts grimaced. “You go in there, you alert the other operations, and this whole thing can backfire.”

“Not with what I have in mind.” Jake said. “I firmly believe I can take out that cell of the operation without the other cells being the wiser. And before they are, hopefully, our calculated plan will be in effect.”

“One man alone?”

“Yes, sir.”

Colonel Roberts shook his head. “Then you’ll be a matter of national security risk.”

“Hardly, and I’m sorry.” Jake lifted his briefcase. “I have to go.”

“Jake, I am telling you not to.”

“I’m sorry.” Jake reached for the door.

“I am giving you a direct order not to walk out that door.”

Jake’s hand froze. It hovered over the doorknob. He slowly turned around. “A direct order? You are giving me a direct order?”

“It is your job.”

Jake blasted. “It is my wife! My wife that’s out there! My kids, my unborn children!”

“And realistically there is nothing you can do about it!” The colonel blasted back.

“Bull! I know what I can do, and what I am going to do.”

“And you’ll disobey a direct order?”

“If I have to.”

“This could mean your career.”

“At this point, I don’t care. I care about my family.”

“I would have never believed those words would have come from you,” Colonel Roberts said. “I understand what you are doing. But understand this, Jake, with the knowledge I have, I will have the MP’s pick you up, have you arrested and you can face court martial. Now, before it gets to that, turn away from that door.”

“I can’t.” Jake said.

“Jake …” Colonel Roberts whispered “The US government will handle it. You know that.”

“And I know I can handle it better. Don’t do this. Don’t order me. Don’t arrest me. Allow me to do what I have trained all my life to do.”

In defeat Colonel Roberts stared at him. “What am I supposed to do, Jake? Let you go on board be a one man arsenal playing Rambo on some remote resort island? Am I just gonna wish you luck and well?”

“Yes.”

“No!” Colonel Roberts voice rose with passion. “What? I’m just supposed to let you walk out that door and say nothing. What choice do I have?”

“Actually, two. You can turn your back and not see me leave, or you can wish me luck on my golf game.”

“Your golf game?”

“My golf game.”

“Are you telling me you’re going golfing?”

“It’s a beautiful day and it relieves stress,” Jake said. “And I am stressed, see? My entire life. My entire reason for living is wrapped up in two cute little packages. One named Cal, the other name Rickie. They’re together, they need help, and I need to go so I don’t miss my ‘T’ time. Teeing off at just the right point is very important, and you know this.”

“Jake …”

“I have to go. There are things I need to do to prepare for my … golf game. Vital things.”

Colonel Roberts stared for the longest time at Jake. The lump in his throat was predominant. After a heavy sigh, he placed his folded hands behind his back and turned to the window. “Beautiful Day out there. Hope you … shoot well.”

“Thank you, sir, I plan on shooting my best yet.”

A small span of silence then waved between them, one only broken by the opening and closing of the door.

Taking a deep nostril breath, Colonel Roberts closed his eyes.

***

Aldo slept late, only until nine o’clock his time, but long enough to miss what was going on with the rest of the world.

He rose, showered, enjoyed his coffee, and turned on the television while he buttered his toast. To his shock he saw that the world, the United States had been tossed into disarray.

What made matters worse was when he saw one of the locations hit. Aldo was furious no one woke him and worse, he was even more angry that he wasn’t contacted by Caldwell or Graison.

Aldo tried to contract Haynes to see what was happening. But Aldo knew that there was nothing Caldwell could do; it was out of their hands into the hands of Homeland Security.

He called anyhow, and was told by Haynes two things. One was what he expected, the other made him happy.

It was out of their jurisdiction, Haynes had told him, and the government was officially handling it.

“Why do I get the feeling there’s an unofficial added in there somewhere?” Aldo questioned.

“There is,” Hayes replied. “Graison.”

Aldo smiled.

What were they thinking? Cal wondered, sweat forming on her brow. Sweat she wished wasn’t there. Surely her capturer would think it a sign of tension or nervousness. But it wasn’t. The air grew thick. The balmy weather from outside seeped indoors, rising the temperature causing the conditions to be sweltering. Despite the fact that the sun started to hid behind a graying sky, the dining room filled with over thirty people was packed, hot and crowded.

Cal’s patience grew thin. Not only with her captors but with those in the room. The other pregnant women weren’t handling the situation as Cal was. They weren’t calm, watching, instead they were crying, sobbing, and it didn’t stop.

Any voices over a whisper were silenced. They weren’t allowed to move from their area. They could sit or stand, but not pace.

She was seated between Rickie and Billy. Billy sat back in his chair, while Rickie was in some weird mode. His eyes shifted fast going from captor to captor, fast, like a watch dog. Focusing on their every move. It wasn’t the same Rickie. He wasn’t joking or talking, he was watching. Cal could only figure it was a mixture of monster plus Jake training kicking in. She didn’t tell Rickie to stop, not for a second did Cal think the captors believed Rickie to be a threat. As long as they thought little of the skinny boy, Cal knew the secret weapon, hidden within Rickie would emerge with success if need be.

Until the ‘need be’ happened, Rickie had to keep it in check.

Cal wasn’t helping.

Her foot tapped as her chin rested on her hands. Closing her eyes every few seconds from being annoyed.

Madeline cried again. Begging one of the eight gunmen to allow her to use the bathroom. Again they refused. She screamed her stomach hurt and she couldn’t take it anymore. She had to go.

She was told to find a corner somewhere in the room.

How degrading. How humiliating. Did they expect this woman to squat? Cal wondered if they were out of their minds. They had to be. To tell a pregnant woman to relieve herself in the corner of a crowded hot room.

Sweat formed a bead and rolled down Cal's nose. She wiped the moisture with her hand. Her mouth was dry, and she started to get thirsty. She was roasting while dehydrating.

Enough was enough.

An argument entailed between gunman A and gunman B over the handling of Madeline. Could it be that gunman B was sympathetic? Gunman A only reiterated he was following the orders of Jimenez.

Jimenez. That was the fourth time Cal heard that name. Obviously he was the leader or something. Was he the older gentleman that came in and ordered half the gunman to leave? Gunman A then positioned the others round the room.

One stood behind Cal, legs partly spread, gun draped in his arms.

And B fought again.

“Allow her to go”

“No, you know the rules.”

“There are men in the hall that can watch her.”

“No, Jimenez says ..”

“Then let Jimenez come in here.”

“And do what? Show how we can’t handle things. No.”

“Then let her go to the bathroom. Let them all go to the bathroom. They're pregnant”

Gunman A laughed. “And then pamper them. Why don’t you tell me what you think we should do for them?”

It escaped Cal, perhaps it was just her thoughts, but instead of thinking it, it seeped through her lips clear and concise. “How about starting with the windows, assholes.”

Billy quickly snapped a glare at Cal. “Stop.”

Gunman A faced her. “What did you say?”

“I said open a window. It’s hot in here. The wind is picking up. Let some fresh air in here.”

“See.” Gunman A pointed. “Pampered.”

“It’s not pampering,” Cal argued. “It’s humanity. Open a goddamn window.”

“Cal,” Billy warned.

“No,” Cal argued. “If not for us, for themselves. They don’t bring in water, they have us roasting. They have to be hot, too.”

Gunman A stepped to her. “You can thank your government for shutting down the power.”

“Then power back up,” Cal stated.

He laughed in ridicule of her. “You think we can reverse the power with a flick of a switch?”

“Um, yeah. It’s a medical research facility moron.” Cal snapped.

Billy closed his eyes.

“What did you call me?” Gunman A asked.

“Moron. How much intelligence does it take for you to realize there has to be a back-up power source? Find it. Turn it on.”

“There is no back up source of power.”

Cal turned in her chair, “Stan? Is there?”

Stan nodded. “A solar generator.”

Cal waved out her hand. “There you have it.”

“You have a big mouth.”

“And you have sweat stains,” Cal snipped. “Now ...” her voice rose as she snapped out of control. “Open a goddamn window or turn on the air now!”

In from the other room flew Jimenez. “What is going on?”

Gunman A faced him. She is giving us trouble. Wants us to open a window or turn on the air conditioning.”

“Did you tell her there is no power?” Jimenez asked.

Cal retorted. “Of course he did, asshole. You think we didn’t notice? There’s a backup source. We’re hot. We’re dehydrating. We’re pregnant.”

Jimenez faced the gunman. “Find someone who knows how to power up the alternate source.” he ordered then walked from the room.

Cal sat back somewhat relieved.

Billy whispered to her. “Please stop, you’re gonna get yourself killed.”

“I’m not worried,” Cal replied.

“Yeah, well ..” Billy breathed out. “I am.”

In the hallway, adjacent to the dining room a command center of sorts was set up. Makeshift desks, laptops.

Jimenez sat closest to the lobby. He stared at a list, a stack of folders before him. He was keen and in tune, cocking his head when gunman A, known as Una, approached from behind, almost as if sensing he was here.

“Yes?” Jimenez asked.

“We found someone who knows about the generator.”

“Good get it running.”

Just as Una stepped away, Jimenez called out. “Who is this woman?”

“Which one?”

“The one arguing? Who is she?”

“I think she is just a resident here, not sure.”

“Do we know her name? Jimenez asked.

“I think they call her Cal.”

“Thank you.”

Una walked away and Jimenez thumbed through the stack of folders. Grunting in frustration, he lifted a sheet. He mumbled the name Cal, as he scanned down ward.

His finger stopped. “Caleen.” Moving his view to the right to take in the name Jimenez paused. His head lifted and his face was overcome with a look of question mixed with revelation, as his finger paused on the name ‘Grasion.’

***

“Graison,” Greg gave the name to the tech then spelled it out. “This really isn’t important.”

“I beg to differ sir; procedure dictates that we log every person that intends to use the equipment. How else are we supposed to keep track of what goes out?”

“To the best of my knowledge none of this is going out.” Greg said.

“For testing.”

“Now it will be used for real.”

“So for sure, I need the name. It’s procedure.’

“And I am the goddamn director.” Greg snapped.

The tech looked at him as if to say was that necessary.

“Look. I’m sorry.” Greg raised out his hand. “Just … just release the equipment.”

“Which series?” The tech asked.

“What do you mean?”

“R756 or you can go with the R7589-A, which is the one I recommend. But its heavy hardware around the belt, the person has to be strong.”

“He’s strong. What’s the difference?”

“Well, R756 is simple jungle, tropical infiltration sneak attack. R7589-A, well, you have assassination qualities. Comes with the darts.”

“Darts.”

“Yeah, pen size darts.  Holds six, if you’re quick you can knock out six men at a time.”

“That sounds pretty cool.”

“It is.”

“Go with the higher end series.”

“Sounds good.” The tech began to type in the computer. “It’ll take an hour for me to program all the stats of the island into the handheld.”

“That’s fine.” Greg laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’m expecting Graison about then. We’ll …” he paused to look down to his waist and lift his pager. “Or now.” Greg said of the message ‘Graison is here’.  “Continue. We’ll be back in an hour when you have everything ready to go.”

“Wait.” The tech called as Greg started to leave. “The instruction booklet. Lets him know what is what in the series.” Opening the drawer, the tech pulled it out and handed it to Greg.

“Instructions.” Greg chuckled, smacked the book against his hand and went to see Jake.

By the time Greg arrived at his office, Jake was already inside. He stood upon Greg’s entrance.

‘That was fast,” Greg said with an extended hand.

“Chuck flew me.” Jake replied. “Were you able to get what I asked for?”

Greg nodded, almost with exhaustion. “But I need you to sign a waiver that you didn’t get the arsenal from us.”

“Not a problem. The boat?”

“Waiting. Scuba gear as well. Everything is loaded.”

“Waterproof duffle?”

“And some.” Greg smiled.

“And some.”

“Have a seat.”

“I’d really rather get moving.”

“Please.”

Jake sat down.

“We have a few …. toys.” Greg said with a sneaky smile. “We’d like for you to wait out the hour until they are programmed, then take a few moments to learn them. We think for this, the toys will be quite useful, and you’ll appreciate them.”

“Toys?” Jake asked.

“Toys. I want you to get familiar with the R7589-A.” From his back pocket, Greg dropped the instruction manual before Jake.

Raising an eyebrow, Jake lifted the book.

***

“For about nine years now Caldwell has been trying to land a contract with the Pentagon for state of the art, lightweight equipment,” Greg explained as he led Jake into a sterile white room. “We’ve come up with some doozies, but have yet to impress the government enough.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“They have their own minds.” Greg shrugged. “I guess, our technology would be too expensive to suit each and every troop. I was thinking more on single operatives going into situations like you are. We did manage however to impress the CIA and FBI. They come to us often.”

The door to the room opened and the tech, Roger walked in. “All done,” Roger announced as he laid a black belt on the table. It was thick with different packets for holding items. “Here is your R7589-A utility belt. Sort of like the Jake man thing.”

Jake looked at him quizzically.

“Get it?” Roger asked “Jake Man. Bat man.” He received no response. “Never mind. Here it is. Everything in that booklet is right here. It’s heavy.”

Jake lifted it.

“Maybe not. Do you need me to explain the things?” Roger asked.

“Please,” Greg answered.

“First and foremost.” Roger unsnapped a pocket and pulled out a hand held unit. It was about four inches wide, six inches long. “This is battery operated. It’s your map of the island. You will be able to link up with the satellite to update the images of the entire island. You can switch to sensory.” Roger explained, “And get digital imagery, to locate the people.”

“You’re kidding?” Jake asked as he took it in his hand.

“Oh, yeah,” Roger said. “Once you’ve located the building you need, switch over, you’ll be able to see through dots, where the people are located.”

“This is amazing.”

“It is.”

“Why didn’t the army want this?” Jake asked.

“Programming.” Roger answered. “The satellite photos are fine, but for digital imagery, you have to be able to hook up with remote satellites which are located on the island. In order to do that everywhere, remotes would have to be positioned, whether it is ours or theirs.”

“I understand.” Jake examined the gadget.  He lifted a pen size instrument. “What is this?”

“This is nifty.” Greg said.

“Nifty?”

“Darts renders the recipient unconscious for one hour. It can shoot six darts as fast as you can aim. You’ll see they are tiny, they take effect in eight seconds, so if you’re fast, you can reload, and hit six more.”

“That would be …nifty.” Jake tried not to crack a smile.

“There are a lot of things, if you just take a few moments to review. Especially the testosterone chemical.”