Toys

Chapter 22

I had no idea how long my horrible fugue state lasted, but I finally woke soaked in my own sweat. I must have been thrashing terribly because the bedding was twisted around me like restraints.

Then I realized it wasn’t bedding at all; it was restraints. I was being held captive for some insane reason that I couldn’t comprehend.

Did someone think I might harm myself? Why would I do that?

Faces above me blurred in and out-from dream to reality-until they solidified, glaring down. Not wildcats. One was my partner, Owen McGill, and the other my boss, Jax Moore-except there was no mistaking them for old friends now.

For the first time, I noticed how cold-eyed and thin-lipped Jax Moore’s handsome face was, and how McGill’s macho, chiseled jaw could have a brutal, almost mechanical look to it. Elites could certainly appear that way, more machine than man.

“Well, well, our traitorous skunk’s awake,” Moore said, wrinkling his nose as if I were offal he’d accidentally stepped in. “How are you feeling, Hays? We haven’t given you anything for the pain. Why should we?”

McGill glowered with outright hatred. “When I think about how I fucking trusted you all these years. The deceit you showed is astonishing.”

He leaned close-and then Owen McGill spat in my face. That ended any remaining hope that I might still be dreaming. The sentiment hurt and the spit shamed, but it also pissed me off, big-time.

“What the hell are you saying?” I yelled, struggling to break free. “Have you both gone crazy?”

“There’s nobody crazy here,” Moore said grimly. “Just two honest cops-and a dirty traitor who will soon be facing the slow death.”

“I’ll say it again: Are you crazy? I’m the best agent you’ve ever had! How could I be human? How could that possibly make sense to either of you? Somebody’s tricked us! This is a setup!”

“I don’t know who you’re working with, skunk, but we’re going to find out in a hurry. You sick bastard.”

“Lizbeth!” I raised my voice suddenly. Where was she? Were they holding her too? “What have you done with my wife? And my girls?”

Moore very coolly replied, “Lizbeth and the poor girls are in a safe place. She fainted in my arms when she found out the truth. Then she went home and tried to scrub her skin off-because she had touched you.

“And your daughters… they’ll have to go to a new school to try and escape the stigma and shame. Didn’t you ever think about what this would do to them? What kind of monster are you?”

Moore stared coldly at me while his words sank in. My wife, my beloved partner in life, she was going along with this? And what would happen to April and Chloe? I didn’t want them hurt by vicious accusations against me, no matter how ridiculous and untrue.

“I don’t know how you managed to pull this extensive masquerade off, Baker, but we’re going to find out.” Moore continued his rant. “The doctors want to watch you one more night to make sure you’re strong enough for a full interrogation. Then you’re coming with us, and believe me, you’re going to tell us everything you ever did, from the minute you were born.”

Having said that, Moore lit up one of his famous cigars, his victory cigars.

“And if you make it through the interrogation, you can guess what’s coming next,” McGill sneered. “A very slow death. It could take… years.”

That’s when McGill reared back and punched me hard in the face. The sudden pain made me feel like my skull had been split.

“That’ll have to do for now,” he growled. “There’s plenty more where that came from. Trust me on it. I can’t wait to break every bone in your body, skunk.”

They turned and stalked out of the room, leaving me rigid with horror, my face aching. I’d seen humans interrogated by Elite experts-reduced to lumps of screaming, gibbering flesh. But that was nothing compared to what McGill promised would come next: slow death, a fatal interrogation technique first used by humans during their brutal Terrorist Wars and later perfected by Elites.

I heard Jax Moore bark at some subordinate agents out in the hall: “No mistakes. Keep a close eye on him-he may be human, but he’s a slick, dangerous sonofabitch. Remember, he’s had augmentations. Probably why he was able to fool us for so long.”

My head was pounding with so many questions. I had to be an Elite-no human could do the things I could. “Augmentations” couldn’t possibly cover it. I mean if humans could be made to perform like top Elites… then why had it never happened before? Even the way my body was healing-didn’t that prove something? I was sore, incredibly sore, even in places I hadn’t known existed, but everything worked, including my adrenal glands-I felt like a river gone wild with spring rains.

But I shoved all that to the back of my brain. The only thing that mattered right now was getting out of here. But how could I? The Agency believed I was a traitor.

I tested the restraints. A metal-enforced jacket bound my upper body and held my arms tightly across my chest. Shackles pinned my wrists and ankles to the bed frame. They were too strong even for me… the world’s strongest human, right?

Right.