Laced Impulse (10 page)

Bianca was obviously drugged because she wasn’t forming coherent sentences. She repeatedly said his name. Even when he tried shushing her, still she wouldn’t be silent. When he eased through the walkway, crouching on the deck, he noticed a shadow, then the person came clearly in to view. It was Sven. He explained that the splash was Henrik jumping in the water. He’d used a floatation devise to aid in his swimming. The waters were dark and when they leaned over the railing, scanning the waters around; neither Sven nor Mot discerned his whereabouts. When Sven looked at Bianca, it was then that he began explaining what Greta and Henrik had done to them both.

Mot’s brows rose in anger. After being in the safe house for one day, Sven had completely recovered. But instead of getting better, Bianca was getting worse. Every time she came too, she talked about music or Mot.

Sven scratched his head, further mussing the hairs out of place. Neither man had showered and exhaustion clearly showed on their faces. Since arriving, they’d each been taking turns monitoring her condition.

“
Any word from Richard?” Sven asked while studying Mot. By the way Mot fretted over Bianca, he was certain his concern wasn’t strictly professional.

“
Nothing...” Mot replied.

Early that morning, while Mot and Richard discussed leaving the country, taking Bianca to the hospital at The Agency, it was then that Sven suggested they first find Henrik. He explained that the toxin used to incapacitate Bianca was more than likely a chemical that wouldn’t be easy to decipher. Greta and Henrik worked for a consortium comprised of several loosely tied organizations within the Russian Mafia. They recruited chemist to produce designer drugs that were sold at nights clubs. Most were offshoots of drugs already in production. Hallucinogenics or drugs categorized as date rape concoctions. Recently, the demand for something new had caused a frenzy. People like Greta and Henrik were attending pharmaceutical conferences and conventions looking to snag an independent. For months they’d been attempting to coax Sven to work for them. They’d lured him to their party, promising a sample of their product. The only thing was that he hadn’t expected their method of testing. He’d been drugged, much in the same way as Bianca, but he was certain that Greta had given her a special batch. Something the sadistic woman had mix specifically for Bianca. Sven had explained the ins and outs of this illegal industry. The construction of a designer drug was as individual as fingerprints. Each formula holds unique properties unlike any other. When tying in biochemical components, the chemist can create a bond so unique, only they know where and what holds the molecular sequences together. In other words... If they ever hoped to cure Bianca, then they needed to know more about the formula and its maker. In this case, Greta wouldn’t be any help to them. After they removed her from the yacht; not long after that, her life had slipped away, due to her rapid loss of blood. Mot disposed of her body, in the manner most kills were dealt with. Her corpse was placed in an unmarked grave, where vagrants are typically buried. Mot’s European contacts had overseen the particulars. But Henrik.... He’d jumped overboard and he was still unaccounted for. Mot had wanted to be the one responsible for finding him but Richard explained that he knew more about the man than Mot. The two men argued over Richard’s fitness due to his recent ordeal. But when Bianca woke, calling out Mot’s name and demanding to see him. It didn’t take long for either to decide which of them would go. That had been hours ago, and still Richard had not found Henrik.

Mot looked over his shoulder. He’d been silent, contemplating their next move. He assumed Sven interpreted his silence as a snub or a desire to be alone with Bianca. He called out to him.

“
Sven... If we can’t find Henrik... Are you sure we won’t be able to mix an antidote?”

Sven turned to face him. His nearly white eyebrows rose, considering all possible options.

“
The antidote isn’t the problem. As I said... In time, we could recreate the drug. But...I'm sure that this drug possesses a hidden combination. Something that would elude us. And that’s the key Mot. Without the complete formula, we won’t be able to create something that might counteract the drug. I could make something that might ease her symptoms... Then on the other hand, if I’m wrong, I could cause her symptoms to worsen.”

“
Explain Sven. Why do you think this drugs formula won’t be easy to crack?”

“
Designer drugs aren’t meant to be easy to recreate. If they were... They wouldn’t be designer drugs.”

“
And you’re sure that that’s what they gave her. Something that was created for a specific purpose.”

“
Yes. I’m certain. Greta and Henrik spoke repeatedly about a drug that one of their scientist created for them. It’s far more dangerous than a truth serum. This drug affects people on a subconscious level. It forces them to relax, and their responses are natural. They feel no inhibitions. They feel...free to say whatever is on their mind. I’ve observed Bianca and I’m sure that she was given this drug that they spoke about. I’d like to add.... When I create my formula’s... Every chain holds a secret, only I understand.” Sven stepped closer. Mot’s hands were flexed into fist; he didn’t like the feeling of helplessness. Sven said...

“
Capture Henrik. Make him talk. If you get me that formula... I promise you... I can create a neutralizer to undo the harm they’ve done to her.”

It was dark. Nightfall covered the field like a blanket. It had been decided before he left, that Richard wouldn’t risk comprising their safe house. Instead, he would stay out on his own; using hotels or whatever lodgings he deemed necessary. Sven was rooted in one of the bedrooms, working out chemical formula’s. He wanted to construct a framework that would aid in building an antidote serum. He’d explained his theory to Mot but Sven’s words were a mishmash of scientific jargon. He’d nodded and left Sven to his own devises. In a short time, Mot had come to trust him. Before leaving, Richard had explained a great many things.

Sven had already agreed to leave the country with Richard, before he’d been abducted. A few days before they were to board a plane; Greta and Henrik approached Sven, offering him money in exchange for his brilliance. At the time, he knew very little about the pair but Sven saw no need to be rude. He listened thoughtfully, then declined their offer. Confused, Greta instructed Henrik to find out why Sven had refused them. It was then that she learned about Richard, the American operative. Greta wasted no time. A day later, Richard had gone missing. That’s when the crap hit the fan and Sven’s worse fears were being realized. Both Greta and Henrik were always at his side; keeping tabs on him. Their demands were words cleverly disguised as offers. He knew, if he worked for them, there would be no turning back. The people at their party confirmed his suspicions. They were all insanely rich and these people were also their customers. People with enough money to buy any kind of high that they wanted. Seeing Mot on the yacht, then Richard alive, at the safe house; Sven had cried. He explained that he would do whatever it took to help Bianca escape the clutches of the drugs injected in her body. Now, Mot sat silent in her room; keeping watch while she finally rest. He was pleased when she allowed him to tend to her wounds. His eyes had cautiously watched as she sipped down soup, spoon fed by his hand. Whenever they were alone, Bianca was a different person altogether. She would sing his name to a melody of notes he’d never heard before. Even now, she hummed, then sang his name. Sven had explained she was completely in a world where there were no boundaries. Colors were alive, sounds held shape and mass. Every word uttered from her lips held truth in her brain. Truth. He thought about the word, while considering this. If Sven was right; and he had no reason not to believe the man. Bianca had uttered words, like
love
and
care
. When he touched her, her dizzy eyes would fix on his face. When she smiled at him, he couldn’t stop his body from responding in a primal way. If she was in a world of truth...and not a place of lies and deception. If this was true... Then he had to conclude; Bianca was genuinely in love with him. He envied her this. Not the disheveled thoughts or the inability to speak and express herself clearly. He resented not being free to convey thoughts and emotions that lay buried deep within him. Far too long he’d harbored a thirst to arouse desires that yearned for her. Deep-seated and so profound; at times he’d willed himself not to look at her. He’d been compelled to do this because at the time he wasn’t sure what his reaction would be. Would he have told her how he felt, or would he have pulled her from her seat, embracing her in a passionate kiss? Far too long, he’d warred with intense feelings and now look where those emotions had got him. He’d requested her by name; telling Vance to send Bianca as his back up, even when his director explained that she wasn’t ready. He blamed his need for her, as the reason she lie, confused and unsure of the world outside of her brain.

Mot held himself personally accountable for so many things. Even though their mission had been successful.

“
Successful, my ass.” He muttered.

Somehow, the truth did little by way of absolving him. He knew the rules of engagement forward and back. Following a series of strategies and procedures; they’d all performed their roles masterfully. The agents engaged their aggressors by employing their skills and training. As the senior most operative in the field, it had been his job to ensure the regress of three agents. And he did. If he were to believe the manuals, word for word; Mot was cleared of all blame. But why didn’t he feel blameless?

At the time, when he’d left the hotel; leaving Bianca asleep in his bed. Mot recalled a moment of clarity. He didn’t like the idea of Bianca on her own, dealing with Greta and Henrik, without him there, to watch her back. He’d stood at the foot of the bed, watching her while she slept soundly. His eyes had studied her, and he knew in that instant. She’d wedged open a door in his brain. She’d gotten in and he couldn’t get her out. In truth, he didn’t want her out of his head. That made leaving her painfully difficult. And he wouldn’t have left her, if he’d known the danger she would face. But he had not known; and for that... He blamed himself.

“
Damn” He cursed the day he called, requesting her by name.

“
Bianca...” He pleadingly said her name with such gentle care. “Forgive me.”

“
Mot.” She whispered his name in her sleep.

Mot stood, because being so near her was too painful for him. He took up position near a window, facing a row of trees. He sought quiet contemplation. And he found it. Every person has an incident in their life that changes them. That change can be good or bad. Or the change can be from good to better. He turned back, seeing her while she lay asleep on the bed. Bianca had changed him. In his life as an agent, Mot had never twitched, when a decision had to be made. Yet, when the time had come to leave her... Mot had twitched. He’d hesitated. He’d questioned himself. For the first time, in all his years; before and after he’d joined The Agency. Never had he been unsure. Not until Bianca entered his life.

***************

Chapter 9

Mot woke from his sleep, hearing muffled whimpers, then his name. He lifted hurriedly from his chair, joining her at the side of her bed.

“
Bianca... I’m here. Do you need something? Can I get you another glass of water?”

Whatever the drug was that poisoned her; Bianca’s thirst was difficult to quench. She smacked her lips, moving her tongue much like a person dueling with a cotton ball.

“
Water?” She said, her wide eyes staring intently at his face. She brightened, seeing him. Reaching out, her arms wrapped around his neck. This wasn’t the first time she’d done this. In fact, while Sven was in the room, she’d lurched forward, kissing Mot’s cheek, while aiming for his lips. All day, she’d been trying to get close to him in one way or another. But the one thing that was different this time; Mot didn’t avert her efforts. She beamed, not having her arms removed.

“
No...” she said. “I’m not thirsty. I have you and I couldn’t ask for anything better.”

“
Good.” He said, pleased that he’d mollified some of her infatuation. Or...was this an intense expression of her love? Every time he tried to downplay her affections; Sven’s voice would cause doubts to surface. The drug that gripped her wouldn’t allow Bianca to lie. Every word was true. As true as the fact that grass is green and her eyes are a reddish brown. He wondered if this recollection explained his reason for not stopping her from hugging him this time. Or maybe he was just tired of avoiding her kindness. He tilted his head to the side, then asked...

“
The music... Do you still hear it?”

She’d been telling them about a song played by a piano. They all knew this was the drug messing with her mind but this didn’t stop him from being curious.

She trained her head to the side, as if actively listening. Her smile broadened and instantly he knew the answer.

“
Yes...” she said airily and in that one word, he’d never heard anything sweeter. “It’s a beautiful song. I’ve only heard it once before but...it’s beautiful.”

“
Where did you hear it Bianca?”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. She said...

“
I don’t know... But it sounds familiar and that must mean that I’ve heard it before.”

Reasonable assumption, he thought. Perhaps her liver was finally doing its job; ridding her system of Greta’s toxins but when she opened her mouth; saying something completely off topic. Mot knew the drug was still clearly in charge.