Elite 2: The Wrong Side of Revolution (20 page)

Daniel reached up and pulled back on the slide of his pistol, loading the first round into the chamber.

Demérs then began down the stairs, carrying a grey, plastic shelled case of some kind. At the bottom of the steps he picked up the black duffle bag and turned to head toward the kitchen.

Daniel was slightly worried about who else might be in the house, but he didn’t have time to deal with that now. In a few steps Demérs would find Salvador knocked out on the floor and Daniel would lose his best opportunity to strike.

As if in slow motion, Daniel stood up and stepped around the wall that divided the living room from the foyer. Demérs continued in the opposite direction toward the kitchen, his back to Daniel.

Daniel raised his gun and took aim at Demérs’ back. His heart was pounding so hard that it threatened to mess-up his aim. He tried to calm it, but even with his neural pathways engaged he was unable to slow down the adrenaline surge.

Daniel lined up his sights and before he could think the word “fire” his index finger was already pulling back on the trigger.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

He fired three shots, all three of which he was certain found their target, but to his surprise Demérs did not fall. He instead stopped in his tracks and lifted his shoulders. Daniel saw clearly that there were three bullet holes in the back of his jacket.

“God Dammit!” Demérs said in agony as he turned around to face Daniel. “Don’t you know that shit hurts?”

Daniel froze in place, his gun still pointed at the man he had just shot three times in the back who was now somehow staring him straight in the eye.

Before he could think, Daniel fired three more rounds at his enemy—one in the chest, one in the leg, and one in the shoulder.

“AGH!” Demérs cried, stumbling half a step backward.

The man that should have now been wounded regained his balance and stood upright, an evil grin on his face as his blue eyes burned holes into Daniel’s skull.

“What is going on down here?” A voice shouted from the top of the stairs.

Daniel looked up, keeping his gun pointed at Demérs. A scraggly old man with unkempt grey hair stood at the top.

“Doctor Horchoff?” Daniel gasped.

Daniel wasn’t sure what had thrown him off more—the fact that a man he had shot six times was still standing or that the doctor who was supposed to be working for Richfield was now spending his free time with Gordon Demérs.

Demérs began untucking his shirt as he shook his head at Daniel.

“I can’t believe that son of a bitch didn’t tell you,” he said.

Daniel turned his head back to Demérs, now more frightened than before. He had questions, but he found himself unable to speak.

Once untucked, Demérs shook out his dress shirt, six flattened bullets falling out of it and onto the floor. He then proceeded to unbutton the shirt and hold it open, exposing a red welt on his chest where Daniel had shot him.

Demérs looked down at the mark on his chest and then back up at Daniel. “Did you really think you were the only one?”

Daniel finally dropped his arms to his side, unintentionally losing the grip on his pistol and dropping it to the floor. It didn’t appear as though it would be of any use to him now anyway.

Daniel again shifted his attention to Doctor Horchoff who was now coming down the stairs with a plastic shelled case identical to the one Demérs was carrying.

“You’re working with him now?” Daniel asked the old Doctor.

Horchoff sighed and dropped his shoulders. “I’ve always been working with him, Daniel.”

Horchoff then continued around the staircase and over to where Demérs was standing. “Are you okay, Son?” he asked him, rather unconcerned.

“Son?” Daniel asked out of reflex. “Like Mr. Blank ‘Sonny Boy’ kinda son, or like ‘Luke, I am your father’ type son?”

Horchoff again sighed as if disappointed that Daniel had to find out this way. “He is my paternal son.”

Daniel exhaled harshly. His heart rate had decreased and the adrenaline was gone. He was no longer frightened, he was stunned. Just when he thought he had it all figured out.

“So what are you?” Daniel asked Demérs, “some sort of super-
duper
human to my regular super human? Why do you even need me then?”

“First off,” Demérs retorted, “I don’t
need
you.  In fact I wanted you dead. What I want is a bunch of people
like
you, only ones that will follow me into glory. You’re too jaded, not just by Richfield but by society and where you come from, which is why I wanted you dead. I’m not too man to admit that you are potentially my biggest threat because Daniel…”

Demérs paused in the middle of his sentence, his evil grin growing even larger.

“I’m just like you.”

Daniel almost fell backwards at the revelation that he was never the first person to have the abilities that he did. All this time, he was never
better
than Gordon Demérs at all. In fact, he was just somehow being played by him.

“I’m pretty sure I can’t stop a bullet with my bare skin,” Daniel pointed out.

“Oh, that’s just because I never showed you how,” Horchoff jumped in.

The doctor then shrugged. “I didn’t want you to be more powerful than Gordie in case we had to kill you. Unfortunate, I admit. I really did like working with you. But we have a plan to evolve society for the greater good. You understand.”

Daniel’s mouth dropped open, wondering how such an ingenious medical doctor could be so small minded.

And why was he calling Demérs Gordie?

“Actually, I don’t understand, that’s why we’re here having this conversation,” Daniel retorted.

The doctor opened his mouth and held up a finger, as if giving Daniel the point.

“So what?” Daniel asked, still entirely confused as to the how or why, “Did you just decide to do you experiment on your own son? To upgrade him? Was he not good enough for you?”

Daniel felt his voice start to quiver as he finished his question. He no longer knew up from down, and the stress was starting to severely weigh on him.

“No, no,” Horchoff corrected rather innocently. “Gordie here was born this way. I merely wanted to recreate it in an already living human subject.”

Demérs shot Horchoff an irritated glance, letting the doctor know that he didn’t appreciate all of the information he was volunteering.

Then Demérs turned his attention back to Daniel, noticing a surprising amount of vulnerability in his young counterpart that he had not expected.

“Maybe it’s not too late,” Demérs commented, stepping over to Daniel.

“There are so many things you can do that you don’t even realize Daniel,” Demérs spoke to him softly. “I can show you. I’ve lived with this my whole life. Without a medical background you can’t even begin to understand your full potential.

“And we’ll create more like us. My father has the capability now, thanks to you and Chuck Richfield. We needed his resources from his days in the CIA to make this all possible, along with someone like you who had a will strong enough to embrace the change. Come with me. You are strong, you are special, you are
Elite.
Join me on my throne.”

Daniel felt an unavoidable scowl form on his face. He was disgusted by the idea that Demérs felt himself worthy of some mythical “throne” as if he were a divine ruler.

On the other hand, following Demérs into that helicopter may have been the only way to extend his life at the moment. He knew now that there was no way to defeat Demérs in one on one combat.

No
, he decided. That would be a fate worse than death. Demérs was right, he was able to become what he was because of his extraordinary will. He would accept his fate now and let the FBI and Richfield find a way to finish Demérs. It was like he’d said, as long as they were both alive Jordan and his family would never be safe. At least with his death they would be.

Demérs didn’t need a verbal response to see that Daniel was not going to accept his offer. Suddenly his evil grin turned to wicked scowl, and the muscles in his body all started to tense. Daniel closed his eyes and prepared to accept his fate.

“Gordie!” Horchoff shouted to his son.

Daniel opened his eyes to see Demérs standing with his own eyes widened. He immediately seemed to forget about Daniel and turned to retrieve his bags. Both he and Horchoff then dashed out the back door toward the helicopter.

Daniel turned to see what had frightened them off. Out of the window he saw an army of black SUVs and a SWAT vehicle barreling toward the mansion. Daniel dropped to his knees and bowed his head. He never believed he’d be so happy to see a police raid coming for him.

Out the back door he heard the helicopter start to take off into the air. He saw men in bullet proof vests with yellow lettering that read “FBI” on the front hanging out of the SUVs and firing automatic weapons into the air. From what he could hear it didn’t sound as though any of the shots were enough to cripple the chopper. As the FBI vehicles pulled up to the front of the house and men and women wearing both bullet proof vests and black tactical gear like his own poured out and surrounded the house, he could hear the sound of the helicopter fading away in the background.

“We have the house surrounded!” a man yelled from outside the front door.

“Well come on in!” Daniel replied sarcastically.

Two second later a battering ram came smashing through one of the heavy wooden front doors and sent it tumbling to the ground. Five agents in full tactical then rushed in through the door, followed by three agents wearing only vests.

Two of the men in tactical pointed their weapons at Daniel’s head, each taking position on either side of Daniel.

“Hands on your head!” one of them ordered.

Daniel reluctantly did as he was told, not very appreciative of being made to feel like the bad guy—although all things considered he truly understood why they might think that. He was after all outfitted to kill a man.

The third vested agent through the door was a woman that Daniel recognized. As soon as she saw him, Agent Stone holstered her gun behind her back and hurried toward Daniel.

“I’ve got him,” she said, calling off the two men with their guns aimed at Daniel’s head.

“Are you sure?” One responded.

“Absolutely,” she replied. “I wouldn’t have
ordered
you to leave him to me otherwise.”

“I’m sorry about before,” Daniel told her sheepishly, unsure why he felt
now
was a good time to apologize. “Wasn’t my idea.”

“I know,” Eva responded with a hint of a smirk as she handcuffed his hands behind his back. “Get up.”

Daniel did as he was told and got up off his knees.

“I have a lot to tell you,” Daniel confessed to the agent. He knew he had been told not to speak to the FBI, but at the moment Daniel was so grateful for their intrusion that he was ready to sing like a canary. “I’m working for Richfield to stop Demérs.”

“Yeah,” Eva responded with uncertainty. “I might not mention that back at H.Q. when you talk to the director.”

“What?” Daniel asked, not happy to be even further confused. “Richfield told me he knows Harvell. Look, we’re all on the same side here.”

Forcefully, Eva shoved Daniel forward and led him out the door to one of the near SUVs.

“Perkins,” she called to one of the agents who appeared to have no real responsibilities at the moment.

A somewhat stouter man in a vest turned to receive his orders.

“Back to H-Q, now,” she ordered.

Perkins followed her orders and ran around to the driver’s seat of the car. Eva climbed in the back next to Daniel.

“I think we have a lot more to tell you than you have to tell us.”

Chapter 12

The metal chair beneath him was cold, and immensely uncomfortable. He tried to readjust himself without hindering Eva as she placed a new set of handcuffs around his wrists. These cuffs were bound to the heavy metal table in front of him. The chain that connected each wristlet ran through a steel loop that was bolted to the table. Both the chair in which he sat and the table he was now chained to were bolted to the floor.

“You know this isn’t necessary,” he told Eva as she latched the right cuff to his wrist. “If I wanted to go somewhere I wouldn’t have given myself up at the mansion.”

As she stood up to examine her work Daniel attempted to lift his arms. They rose up only a few inches off the table before he was restricted by the metal bracket that kept the handcuffs and whoever was attached to them from wandering too far. He looked up at Eva to assure her that the cuffs would serve their purpose, although he was pretty sure that if he really wanted to he could snap the chain that held them together.

“You might change your mind after you hear what the director has to say,” she replied.

“Why?” Daniel retorted, now feeling a twinge of panic. “What’s he going to say?”

Two guards entered the room, each dressed in the black tactical gear the swat team had been wearing back at the Benze estate. They took up positions on either side of the door, both holding automatic weapons strapped to their chests.