Freaks Under Fire (13 page)

“That Randall Thor is Seth Williams?” Jay shouldered through the door, forcing Seth to take a step back. She shut the door behind her and flipped the latch. “And that you didn’t end up smeared all over the lab in the bomb blast like your colleague Frank Sloane? It wasn’t difficult.”

Seth backed up until his calves smacked the edge of the sagging double bed. “You’re not Gabby.”

“Excellent deduction.”

His face drained of color save for the mottled smudges of fading bruises. “You sound exactly like Gabi.”

“Yes. All thanks to a ‘Happy Birthday Seth’ video Gabrielle uploaded to your Facebook wall prior to you deleting your social media accounts.”

Seth’s legs folded and he sat down on the mattress in such a hurry that he bounced. His complexion turned an interesting shade of pale green. “Shit. You’re her—Gamma.”

“Another excellent deduction,” she told him in voice she preferred—the one she’d come to think of as her own. “And might I add that I appreciate very much you referred to me as ‘her’ rather than ‘it’?”

“You’re here to… to… terminate me.”

Tremors wracked his too-thin body. The man was terrified. Time to play up her human tendencies.

Jay retrieved the asthma inhaler from the nightstand and handed it to him.

When he’d used it, and his wheezing had subsided, she told him, “You couldn’t be more wrong. I’m here to discover why Sixer chose to spare you the fate of your colleague, and why he let you walk out of that hospital room.”

Now that death wasn’t imminent Seth had rallied somewhat, though to Jay he still nailed that human saying comparing someone to a deer caught in vehicle headlights. “I got the hell out of there the minute I came to,” he said, a touch of indignation threading through his tone. “That… that…
thing
didn’t have anything to do with it.”

Jay snort-laughed.

Seth startled, doubtless reacting to what he would consider a wholly incongruous sound issuing from the vocal chords of a cyborg.

Jay marveled again at how perfectly one utterance could convey a combination of scorn and disbelief. “Oh puhlease,” she said, treating him to a Caro-worthy eye-roll that made his jaw sag. “You seriously believe a cyborg like Sixer couldn’t have snatched you from the hospital room and made you vanish without a trace? Think about it, Seth. You sure as hell didn’t get there on your own, so the chances are ludicrously high that Sixer dropped you at the ER. And I’d bet my left hand that he
let
you walk out of that hospital room,
and
paid your medical bill. What I’d like to figure out is why.”

She hadn’t believed that Seth’s eyes could get any rounder but she had been mistaken in that assumption. In fact, she now completely understood the origin of that anatomically unlikely description, “His eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head.”

“Shit!” Seth scrubbed a hand through his matted mop of hair. “You think Sixer knows where I am? Like, right now?”

“If he doesn’t at present, it’s only a matter of time. Even though you were reportedly deceased,
I
found you without much trouble.”

Seth had regressed to trembling like a leaf about to fall from a tree and his teeth were visibly chattering. He wrapped his arms around his middle, wincing as he did so—evidence that the injuries he’d suffered at Sixer’s hands were still healing. His current attire of baggy gray boxers and a once-white singlet only highlighted his air of vulnerability. “What are you going to do to me?” he asked.

Jay yanked the hood from her head, shook out her ponytail, and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not Sixer, Seth. The sooner you realize that, the better. So here’s my proposal: You help me and I’ll help you. For instance, this motel room might be cheap but that sulphite-free food delivery, and the special delivery from the pharmacy, must have eaten into a chunk of your available cash. I can help you with your cash flow issues.”

His answer was too quick. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

And say whatever he believed she wanted to hear, Jay thought, noting the perspiration beading his forehead and upper lip. If he feared
her
as much as he obviously feared Sixer, she wouldn’t be able to trust him. If she stashed him somewhere, he would require constant supervision or he’d bolt given the slightest opportunity. She needed to convince him that cooperating could be mutually beneficial for them both.

She crossed one foot over the other and folded herself into a cross-legged position on the threadbare carpet. Seth’s current perch on the edge of the bed meant she had to look up to meet his gaze—a calculated attempt designed to give the impression he was the more dominant person in the room.

Seth might have been scared but he wasn’t stupid. A wry twist of his lips told her he wasn’t buying her ruse. “You’re much better than Sixer at passing for human,” he said.

Jay resisted the impulse to raise one eyebrow and give some excellent sarcastic face. Hah. He had no idea. “Yes, I am,” she said. “However, I’m hopeful that, given time, Sixer will embrace more humanlike attributes.”

Seth managed to summon a bark of what Jay presumed was supposed to simulate laughter. “If by ‘humanlike’ you mean getting a kick out of blowing shit up and hurting people, then he’s already there.”

A heavy weight seemed to press down upon Jay’s shoulders. Since she knew absolutely that there was no such physical weight currently resting anywhere on her person, she instinctively began to run a system diagnostic. And then the truth struck her. This sensation was a physical manifestation of guilt. Guilt for what she had potentially unleashed by freeing Sixer from the core commands that had constrained him. “What Sixer did—the people he killed, those injured in the explosion—that’s on me.”

Seth’s brows pleated as he chewed over her statement. “You seriously want me to believe
you
feel responsible for what that amped up, robotic Ken-doll did?”

“Yes. I seriously do. Because I seriously am responsible.” Her attempt at humor didn’t provoke a response so she continued, “Once Sixer removed the projectiles that had incapacitated me I could have fought him. Instead, I gave him what he wanted: his freedom. I knew the risks and I did it anyway because I pitied him. Discounting all logic, I chose to trust him. When he blew up that bunker and killed innocent people, he betrayed that trust.”

This time Seth’s reaction was an almost textbook example of a snort-laugh. Some of the tension had drained from his muscles. Good. He was starting to trust her a little.

“None of us were innocent,” he said. “Look, Sixer scares me shitless. I knew I was sticking my neck out by proposing we scale back trials until we’d implemented more efficient controls but I risked it because I
knew
the command protocols were too open to interpretation and too easily exploited. Case in point:
You’re
only walking around right now because Caine screwed up the command and Sixer didn’t feel compelled to terminate you on sight.”

The jury was still out as to whether Sixer would have succeeded had he pitted himself directly against Jay in a physical battle—one without the advantage gained by using EMP projectiles—but she nodded, motioning for Seth to continue.

“You aren’t the only one repelled by the idea of a self-aware creature being compelled to do whatever it’s told,” he said. “The whole thing made me sick to my stomach. I don’t blame you for giving Sixer an out so he couldn’t be controlled.” His gaze sharpened. “And how did you do that, exactly?”

Jay channeled Tyler’s “you gotta be freaking kidding me” expression.

Seth rewarded her efforts with a lopsided grin. “Worth a shot. Look, if anyone’s to blame for Sixer turning out to be a freaking psycho, blame the guys who programmed him—” he jerked his thumb at his chest for emphasis “—and couldn’t do half as good a job as your creator did with you.”

Jay nibbled her lower lip, but ceased when she noted Seth’s expression. Apparently he found her “human-ness” increasingly fascinating. “That’s an interesting way of viewing recent events,” she said. “And if what you say is true, why do you not appear to suffer any guilt over what happened?”

“Wasn’t like I knew that nut-job Caine planned on using his pet cyborg as an assassin.” He shrugged. “Once I was promoted to the inner circle and working directly on Sixer, I was screwed. Only way I was leaving Caine’s employment was in a body bag. I gathered as much information as I could without getting pinged by security, and did whatever I had to do to get through the day. But if
I’d
been in Sixer’s shoes, I’d have gone after Caine and the labs, too. Best way to make sure the bastards couldn’t build another fucking machine and send it after me.”

“I can’t fault your logic—nor Sixer’s instinct to protect himself. However, I find the collateral damage unacceptable. I don’t regret freeing Sixer. In fact, I would have done so without any attempts on his part to compel my assistance. But I deeply regret the ramifications of the choices I made.”

Seth leaned forward, his eyes narrowing to slits. “He compelled you? How?”

Jay cocked her head and allowed a slight smile to play across her lips. “Do you wish to know because you fear Sixer may compel me again?” She paused, gauging his reactions minutely. “Or because deep down, you would not be averse to commanding a cyborg to do your bidding.”

There it was. The raised heart rate, the fleeting gleam in his eyes—quickly masked but not quickly enough for a cyborg of Jay’s abilities. It was not wholly unexpected given Seth’s background. Better men than he had been tempted by power.

“I’d only use you if Sixer made a grab for me again,” he muttered as he lowered his eyes to stare at his bare feet.

“And the road to the hell that humans profess to believe in is purportedly paved with good intentions,” Jay told him. Before he could mount an argument he couldn’t win, she continued, “My command codes died with my creator. But perhaps you, too, could coerce me to do your bidding—provided you had the stomach to drug a woman who’d recently given birth so you could snatch her newborn baby and use the child for leverage. Would you have the stomach for that, Seth?”

His chin whipped up and the face he presented appeared so horrified, that even though he couldn’t yet force words from his throat she knew the answer was a resounding “No”. Finally, he managed to choke out, “Sixer snatched a
baby
?”

“Not just any baby.” Jay toyed with the end of her ponytail, drawing the moment out for maximum impact. “The infant in question was my boyfriend’s baby brother.”

Seth mouthed the word
boyfriend
before the impact of her statement overrode his wonder that a cyborg had claimed such a close relationship with a human. “Jesus, Joseph and Mary. Did he—?” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed convulsively. “Did Sixer hurt the kid?”

“No.”

Seth leaned his elbows on his bent knees, the tension draining from his body in a long, slow sigh. His murmured “Thank God” indicated his moral compass was more or less functional—at least where the wellbeing of infants were concerned. Even so, Jay didn’t resist the impulse to make him squirm a little more. “Although there’s still Sixer’s threat to snatch the baby and sell him to some childless couple to consider,” she said, choosing to leave out some pertinent facts.

It wasn’t exactly lying by omission. After all, she could not confirm with one hundred percent certainty that if Tyler
was
foolhardy enough to attempt to track Sixer down at some later date, and somehow managed to succeed in that endeavor, Sixer wouldn’t make good his threat.

Seth met this latest evidence of Sixer’s ruthlessness with a flinch and another muttered imprecation. Jay waited for him to regain his composure, and mentally debated the most efficient way to enlist both his assistance and continued cooperation.

“Will you help me take Sixer down?” Seth asked.

“You are concerned that Sixer will use your sister against you.”

He nodded.

“And you think the best way to insure her safety is for me to eliminate him.”

More enthusiastic nodding.

“What leads you to believe that Sixer is more of a threat to you than Evan Caine?”

Seth’s response came quick and sharp, ringing with certainty. “Caine’s dead.”

Jay merely arched a brow and waited.

“You think that insane bastard could still be alive?” Seth’s voice had risen until the final word was little more than a high-pitched squeak.

“Until such time as I personally view Evan Caine’s remains, and personally verify they
are
in fact his remains….” She let the rest of her statement trail off, leaving Seth to form his own conclusions.

“Fuuuuuck.” A despairing sigh spilled from his lips, and Jay didn’t think she would be remiss in concluding he was now inclined to embrace her offer.

A buzz vibrated the rear pocket of her jeans. She stood, extracted the mobile phone, and tapped her forefinger on her pursed lips, cautioning Seth to silence. Once he’d nodded assent, she swiped the screen to answer the call. “Nessa.”

“Jay! Thank God you weren’t asleep or something, and you picked up.”

Nessa’s voice sounded strained and tight. “You’re afraid,” Jay said. “What happened?”

“I saw him. At least, I think it was him—didn’t get a good look at his face coz I just freaked out and turned right around and ran back to the motel but— Oh, shit. I really think it was him. What if he tries to make me do something awful again? Oh my freaking God, Jay. What should I do?”

Nessa’s panting breaths indicated she was on the verge of hyperventilating. Jay couldn’t risk that happening: It would not only cause Nessa distress, but also cause an intolerable delay before Jay could resume her interrogation of Seth. She would have to talk Nessa down. “Take a deep breath in through your nose. Hold it. Hold it a bit more. Now exhale slowly through your nose. Good. Again.” She waited for Nessa to comply. “Better?”

Silence. Jay visualized Nessa nodding, and then realizing Jay wouldn’t be able to see the gesture. Wait for it….

“Sorry,” Nessa whispered. “Yes, much better. Thanks.”

“Now, who do you think you saw?” Jay asked the question even though there was only one person who could be responsible for Nessa’s panicked, desperate tone and the fear that practically zinged down the phone line… and he wasn’t strictly a
person
at all.