Girl Undercover 10 & 11: The Abduction & Dante's Inferno (19 page)

BOOK: Girl Undercover 10 & 11: The Abduction & Dante's Inferno
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“Just that the kidnappers wanted ten million bucks from the Malibu mayor in exchange for the hostages. And that the mayor had one hour to make it happen or they’d kill off one hostage every minute after the deadline. Made me think of that old movie that was remade into a bad one with John Travolta. You know what I’m talking about? Pelham something.”

“Yeah,
The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3.
The first movie was great, the second not so much. It seems they might’ve gotten the idea from that pic actually.” An image of Tim filled my mind during which he lambasted Lindsey Dash for how horrible her latest movie was, then another where he kissed Morgan Stanley’s ass, telling him what an awesome actor he was. The hostage taker was clearly a movie buff.

“But the money got there in time,” Ian continued, “so they didn’t have to kill anyone. And then they took off into the ocean. I think one of them was shot dead while the other is still at large.”

“That’s exactly right. These two guys were hybrids. Gay hybrids. The one who got shot told me they were gonna use the money to remove the microchips from their systems so they could become fugitives. Apparently, Stenger strongly disapproves of gay hybrids. To put it mildly.”

I proceeded to tell him all that Javier had told me regarding what awaited gay hybrids in Stenger’s brave new world. After I had finished painting a picture of a man being forced to eat his own genitals, Ian hissed between his teeth as if in pain, then said, “Bloody fucking… He’s one sadistic bastard, isn’t he? Not that anything he cooks up should surprise me. So what made you change your mind in regards to your captain being an untouchable these days?”

I sighed despondently as I was reminded of what had happened to Dr. Sokoloff this morning, and how Brady simply had to be behind her all too convenient death. I told Ian about it, including how I was convinced that Brady had blocked help from getting to the crime scene when I’d requested it.

“Yes, I’m sure you’re correct on both accounts,” Ian agreed. “I wonder why he didn’t want you to get help out there, though. Hmm.”

“I know. I’m asking myself the same question. He must have thought I was up to something. Then, when the hostage takers themselves as well as the mayor called the cops, he knew it was for real.”

“Yes, that’s probably it.”

“What should we do about Brady having become UT? There has to be something that can be done to undo the process, make him become himself again. I refuse to believe we’ve lost him to the other side
forever.”

This time it was Ian’s turn to sigh despondently. “Based on all my investigations—and I’ve done several—I’m sorry to say that I don’t think there’s a way to reverse the kind of UT transformation he must’ve been put through. Not at the moment at least.”

I buried my eyes with my free hand, feeling terribly depressed. “Oh, no, please don’t say that. I can’t stand the idea of having lost both Dr. Sokoloff and Captain Brady. It’s just too much to handle.”

I thought about how much we’d lost to The Adler Group today, Ian remaining silent all the while. Finally he asked, “When are you going to see the two doctors again?”

“I was planning on going there as soon as I’m done talking to you.”

“Ask them if they think there’s a way to reverse a drug-induced UT transformation in which the person is not like a zombie. If there is any way to undo the process, they would be the ones to know about it. They and the other scientists were the ones who came up with the drugs in the first place. But don’t get your hopes up.”

“Too late. I just got my hopes up.” I removed my hand and sat straighter. “You’re right that they, if anyone, would know. There just has to be a way. And I’ll be damned if I can’t get it out of them.”

Ian chuckled. “Yes, if there is a way, I’m sure you’ll get it out of them one way or another...”

After asking Ian if he’d had any progress tracking down Stenger since we’d last spoken and he told me no, we disconnected so I could head downtown and talk to the doctors. I was determined to coax some form of antidote out of them to cure what must have happened to Captain Brady’s brain for him to behave this way.

I paid my bill, then headed to my Toyota and drove to see our captives.

***

When I arrived at the downtown high rise, I parked my car at the curb and took some time to check my appearance in the rearview mirror; I needed to look my very best when I faced the doctors. During my drive down to the apartment, I had thought of various ways to trick them into telling me what could be done about Brady, as I doubted they’d simply volunteer the information. It would surely take lots of work to get it out of even Dr. Kelly. I refused to think Captain Brady was lost to us forever. Unfortunately, I had yet to come up with the right questions.

Sighing, I left the car, assuring myself that I’d know what to say when I saw them. One thing would lead to another, and before I knew it, at least Dr. Kelly would be telling me what I so desperately wanted to hear.

As soon as the traffic light turned green, I crossed the street toward the building entrance. Right as I was about to enter, I heard a deafening
thud
immediately behind me, followed by screams, the sound of vehicles coming to an abrupt halt and beeping car horns. Stopping dead in my tracks, I swiveled around to see what the heck was going on.

Gasping, I took in the horrible sight of a man lying face-down in the middle of the street, rivulets of blood quickly spreading from his body like a myriad of ever-growing tentacles. Traffic had stopped around him and the few pedestrians there were staring at the immobile body.

I rushed up to him and squatted beside his figure. As I got a glimpse of his face that was turned sideways in an unnatural angle, I saw that it was Dr. Juback.
What the fuck…

How had he ended up like this? The first thought that entered my head was that he had committed suicide. But why would he do that? I hadn’t gotten a sense that he was depressed enough to do such a thing. Grumpy and pessimistic, yes, but never suicidal. Even so, I tilted my head backward and gazed up the building to see if I could spot an open window or something that indicated that he had jumped out of the apartment.

The apartment was too far up and the sun shining too brightly for me to be able to get a good view of what was going on up there. Shading my eyes with a hand didn’t help.

When I had determined that he was dead for sure, I got to my feet and dashed over to the building entrance. As I entered, I was on the verge of crashing into the cheery concierge, who must have finally noticed that something was going on outside his building and left his desk.

He put two hands on me, stopping me. “What’s going out there?”

It took me less than a second to conclude that it was not to my advantage admitting that the dead man on the street was someone I knew, not to mention had stayed in the apartment I was about to visit. Involuntarily.

Placing a hand above my chest, I sucked in a distraught breath and widened my eyes. “Oh, it’s so terrible! It looks like a tenant jumped out of their apartment. I think he’s
dead.”

“Oh, my
God,”
the concierge shrieked, his baby blues having doubled in size. “Are you serious?”

“Unfortunately, yes. You should go out there and check for yourself. Maybe it’s someone you know.”

“Yes. Yes…” The concierge didn’t look like he wanted to go out and check for himself at all, instead remained frozen in place. In order to get moving, I had to peel off his hands from my shoulders.

“Excuse me, but I have to go see my friend,” I said. “You go out there now.”

The concierge nodded, still not moving.

I passed by him and entered the elevator that took me up to the twenty-second floor, all the while praying that I wasn’t about to enter some kind of bloodbath when I walked into the apartment. Knocking our code, I stuck a key into the lock and opened the door. The hallway was empty. My eyes landed on the stool where a guard was supposed to sit.

Why the hell is no one there?

Rushing farther inside the long hallway, I headed toward the living room only to stop as I noted how one of the bedroom doors was ajar. The muffled sounds of men talking reached my ears. I pushed the door open all the way and saw Jose and a muscular man I didn’t recognize leaning over a bleeding man lying on the floor right below the window. Soil mixed with different-sized shards and what must have been a plant covered a good part of the white carpet.

Jose turned his head in my direction as I entered.

“What the hell’s going on here?” I demanded as I strode over the soil and pottery shards to the kneeling men, fearing the worst. As I reached them, I saw that the hurt man on the floor was in fact Dr. Kelly and that his pale blue sweater was drenched in blood, all of it coming from a wound in the middle of his chest. He moaned quietly, but it didn’t look like there was much life left in him. Panic surged through me at this observation.

I grabbed Jose’s arm. “What happened here?” Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that there was a gun in the other man’s hand. He was standing on the other side of Kelly, who kept moaning. I swiveled my head in the direction of the stranger to get a better view of him.

“Tell her, Albert,” Jose urged his companion.

I stared at the large bodybuilder with the huge neck and black earlobe gauges. Despite his size, he looked terrified of me. He blinked a couple of times, then said, “He was about to climb out the window when I opened the door. I told him to come back inside. He didn’t, just threw a potted flower at me. It was this close to hitting my head”—he measured out two inches with his thumb and index fingers—“so I pulled my gun. When he grabbed another plant and got ready to throw it, I shot at him. It was just a reflex. I only meant to get him in the arm so he’d drop the plant.”

I turned back to Kelly.

“Dr. Kelly?” I said, peering into his white, clammy face. “Can you hear me?”

He moaned again, trying to nod his head. He seemed to be struggling to open his eyes. I motioned for Jose to hand me a couple of pillows and some sheets. Even if it appeared too late, I had to at least try to stop the blood flow. Save what I could of this man.

My hands were soon full of mostly pillows and a sheet that we pressed against his chest. We managed to stem the blood from oozing out of the man.

“Call 911,” I ordered Jose. “Get an ambulance here.” By giving this man up to first responders, he could easily reveal that we had kidnapped him, getting me in some serious trouble. But it couldn’t be helped; we needed to do what we could to save this man’s life. I’d have to think of a way to explain later

“No,” Dr. Kelly mumbled. “Don’t call anyone.” It was clear that it took him a lot of effort to speak. I had to lean closer to his mouth to make out what he was saying. “They won’t get here in time. I’m dying. I know it. I can feel it. Just… just promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Don’t say anything bad about me to Jonah…”

“Why would I do that?”

“How else will you explain to him that Juback and I are dead but to claim we did something so horrible you had to kill us? If you tell him the truth, he’ll know you lied to him.”

I stared at the fading man beneath me. He was making a very good point—I was definitely not going to tell Jonah the truth. I didn’t know what I would tell him when I spoke to him next. Eventually he’d want to speak to the doctors, so I would have to come up with some form of explanation as to why both of them were dead.

“No, that’s true,” I agreed. “I can’t tell him the truth.”

“But you can’t tell him that you killed us in self-defense, either. I know you’ll have to say something like that to get away with killing us.”

I frowned, confused as to why this seemed to worry him so much. “What difference does it make to you what I tell him?”

He grabbed my wrist with surprising force for a dying man. “He’ll lose it and go after my family if he thinks I did something bad. You know how he is. Such anger issues. I don’t want anything to happen to my wife and son. I might be a bad person, but they’re not. They’re innocent. They don’t know anything about what The Adler Group’s planning. I haven’t told them a thing yet. Please promise me you won’t say anything that might tick him off.”

“Okay, I promise that I won’t say anything that might set him off. But since that’s going to be very challenging for me—I can tell that you already see that—I want something in return to make you that promise.” I know I was being cruel here. Even so, I believed the end justified the means.

He gasped for air and paled further. “Anything… what… what do you want?”

“My boss has changed. I think he’s become UT. But he’s not like a zombie, so he can’t have been given the injection, and he would never ever agree to undergo any form of pill therapy. What must have been done to him and is there any way I can undo it?”

“I really don’t know… If you’re absolutely sure he hasn’t become UT voluntarily, the only thing I can think of is that they used some yet to be approved liquid version of Zoc 2. Maybe a combination of Zoc 1 and 2. Probably a combo… I would have heard of liquid versions.”

“Okay. How can I undo its effects?”

The doctor didn’t say anything, just breathed shallowly. Panic threatened to overtake me.
Oh, no, don’t die on me now…

Right as I was sure that he’d drawn his last breath, he mumbled, “There aren’t any approved antidotes. The only thing that
could
reverse it is to get Haldol into his bloodstream on a regular basis, but if he has a history of cardiovascular disease, it could also kill him. In order for it to have a chance of working, you must give him an injection of at least 50 mg the first time… 30 later. Please protect my family…”

Those were the last words that came out of his mouth before his head suddenly dropped sideways and he was dead.

Chapter 8

I turned to Jose. “Did he say Haldol?”

“Yes, he did,” Jose confirmed. “You need to give him an injection of at least 50 mg the first time, then 30 later. It sounded like he needed to take it on a regular basis.”

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