“Where are they?” Sloane asked, keeping his rifle aimed at Isaac.
“How does it feel to be home again?” Isaac asked pleasantly, motioning to the drab room in serious need of paint. The gray walls were chipped, scratched, and filled with questionable stains. The floor was concrete. It contained no windows, only a solid steel door off to his right. “It’s a bit clinical for my taste, but it has its appeal.”
Sloane refused to be baited. He repeated through his teeth. “Where. Are. They.”
“I should feel relieved, having everything I believed to be true about you confirmed,” he patted the pocket of his tac pants containing something rectangular, “but instead, I’m disappointed. I’ll be the first to hold up my hands and say, we—the Human race—only has itself to blame. The virus, the vaccine, the result,” Isaac said, motioning to Sloane, “was all our doing. But instead of correcting our mistakes, we make them worse. We created mutations, and not only do we treat them as Human, but we start giving them rights. We allow them into our government. We hire murderers to enforce the law.”
Sloane’s jaw clenched. He wouldn’t allow Isaac to distract him. Isaac had a plan, and Sloane had to make certain he didn’t fall victim to it.
With a grin, Isaac called out. “Dexter, come out here please. And bring the good doctor.”
Sloane watched, stunned, as the door on his right opened, and Dex walked through, dragging a bound up Dr. Shultzon with him. His partner’s face was bruised, faint blood stains under his nose and across his cheek, but other than that, he looked perfectly healthy.
“Put him over there, will you. Place him on his knees.”
“Sure.” Dex did as Isaac asked, dragging the gagged doctor over to where Isaac pointed, lifting him, and pushing him onto his knees. Then he stood idly by. He’d been stripped of his tac vest, weapons, and uniform shirt. Sloane couldn’t understand it.
“Dex?” Sloane received a smile from Dex, and his heart felt about ready to stop beating. It looked like Dex, talked like him, acted like him, but something was wrong. “What did you do to him?”
“Nothing your organization hasn’t done to its own. I gave him a little concoction the THIRDS created containing scopolamine. The US government tried to use it as a truth serum back in the sixties, but unfortunately, along with the truth, they got a bunch of crazy ass hallucinations. Looks like the THIRDS found a better use for their new and improved drug—controlling their agents. The power of suggestion can be a wonderful thing. For example, I suggested to Dex that we’re good friends. Isn’t that right, Dex?”
Dex nodded. “We’re good friends.”
“You sick son of a bitch.” Sloane took a step forward, only to have Dex step in front of Isaac. “Dex, get the hell out of the way,” Sloane snarled, his glare on Isaac. He was going to tear the guy apart for what he’d done to his partner.
“Easy there, Sloane. Dex is protecting me because that’s what friends do. They protect each other. You shoot me, and your partner will take the bullet, and he’s not wearing any protection.”
“What do you want, Isaac?” Where the hell was his team?
A loud bang echoed from somewhere behind him, and Isaac laughed. “Those doors are fortified. They locked after you came through. Both sets of doors. This facility was created to withstand feral Therians. Your team won’t get through. And if they somehow manage, there’s still the set of doors behind you. This will all be over by then. Dex, take this.” Isaac handed Dex his gun.
“Calvin?” Sweat dripped down Sloane’s face, and he ran through the variables in his head. Whatever Isaac’s plan, the end result would be for him to get away with the files.
“In position,” Calvin confirmed.
Sloane slipped his finger over the trigger.
“Dex,” Isaac said, his gaze on Sloane. “Kill the doctor then kill yourself.”
With those few words, Sloane felt the pain Isaac had intended. The bastard knew THIRDS protocol. Preserve civilian life. Sloane’s duty would be to save Dr. Shultzon, no matter the cost. Dex took a step forward, and the rest happened in a blur. Sloane pulled the trigger, hitting Dex who fell to the floor, Sloane following his lead as he shouted the signal into his earpiece. “TARE!” A familiar ‘pop’ echoed through the air, and Sloane lifted his head from his position on the floor, his eyes meeting Isaac’s lifeless stare.
Isaac had been counting on separating Sloane from his team, thinking Sloane would choose to handle the situation alone, and therefore fall into Isaac’s trap, forced to make a choice: his partner or the doctor. He had been counting on Sloane’s anger, on his hatred for him, believing Sloane would attempt to seek justice on his own. That’s where Isaac had made his mistake. Sloane’s anger and thirst for Isaac’s blood hadn’t clouded his judgment as it had Isaac’s. Instead, Sloane drew on the strength of his team, of his family, and the man who’d come to mean more to him than he cared to admit, to gain clarity. Sloane wasn’t alone, and he hadn’t needed his team to get through the doors. He only needed his best sniper to get through the glass.
Scrambling to his feet, Sloane ran over to Dex’s side. To his horror, his partner was still reaching for Isaac’s gun. His leg was bleeding where Sloane had shot him, but it was as if Dex didn’t feel it.
Sloane wrestled the gun from Dex, and Dex fought against him. A blast exploded through the hall, filling it with smoke, and soon his team was blasting through the second set of doors, while Sloane did his damn best to restrain his drugged partner.
“Dex, stop it!”
“I have to kill the doctor then myself,” Dex said, pushing and writhing to get free.
Sloane gritted his teeth, his full weight on Dex as he crossed Dex’s arms over his chest and held them down.
“Sloane!” Ash came running, emerging from the smoke filled corridor with the rest of his team. “What the hell’s going on?”
“I have to kill the doctor then myself,” Dex answered, his face contorted with pain and frustration at not being able to carry out Isaac’s request. Sloane had heard of the drug, had seen videos of victims sharing stories of how criminals had used it to rob them blind, simply by asking them for their belongings, by suggesting the victim take them to their homes. It was mostly used in foreign territories, often used to rob tourists. One whiff of the stuff, and the person was gone, though you’d never know from looking at them. And the most fucked up part? The victims never remembered anything.
Sloane shook his head, and turned his gaze to his startled teammates. “He’s been drugged with something containing scopolamine. Isaac suggested he kill the doctor then himself, and now he’s trying to do it. We need to knock him out, or he’ll keep trying.” Because that’s what the drug did. Dex wanted to please his “friend.” Thank God it would soon wear off.