The Gender Experiment: (A Thriller) (13 page)

Devin drove south, keeping her speed reasonable and her eye on the rearview mirror. Adrenaline still pumped in her veins. She’d just kidnapped someone five-hundred feet from a police station! Her boldest mission yet. Reckless, actually. But the major had called and said Lopez was being released. Devin didn’t ask how he knew. Her father had connections everywhere through the military structure, officers who did what they were told, with no direct knowledge of the major or his research. Or maybe Taylor’s monitor had reported it.

Devin had been taking a sleep break in a nearby motel on the assumption that they wouldn’t release Lopez in the middle of the night.
Foolish!
After racing down to the police station, she’d taken a position and waited. Once she had eyes on her target, she’d moved in. Devin wouldn’t risk letting Lopez disappear into the night again.

Devin checked the rearview mirror, but had no reason to believe anyone had witnessed the kidnapping or was looking for Lopez. Yet. By the time anyone realized the little troublemaker was gone, she would be deep underground, and no one would ever find her.

Devin turned off at the familiar sign for Fort Carson, showed her ID to the young soldier working the only open gate, and drove onto the base. She passed dark apartment buildings, recreation centers, and fast food restaurants. The base was its own small community of twenty-three thousand, and she’d grown up there, getting to know every numbered building and all the spaces in between. The hospital where her father had originally worked, and still commanded, was on a small rise at the back of the base. Cheyenne Mountain was behind her, towering over everything. The Rockies, the fresh air, and the dry beauty made Fort Carson the second most requested assignment for new recruits, after Fort Lewis in Washington.

When she reached the T in the road at the hospital, she turned right and passed the golf course she’d never played on. Neither had her father. His research was too important to allow much free time, and when he did leave his office or lab, he preferred the shooting range or bear hunting with a bow in the Silver Peak wilderness. She’d started hunting and shooting with him at the age of five, firing a Luger handgun at a paper target and rarely missing the body outline. She’d killed her first bear at the age of eight. They never hunted deer or any other passive animal. It wasn’t sporting. Her father had treated her like a son, and all her paperwork indicated she was male. Correcting his assumption had never been an option. The major would have disowned her. Being male in the army was definitely an advantage anyway. Her female organs were on the inside, and so was her secret identity. She could live with that.

After a few miles, Devin was no longer officially on the base, and the paved road narrowed and turned to gravel. The terrain rose in gentle hills with patches of green scrub—an open wilderness with no one in sight. Fifteen minutes later, she neared the familiar butte. Another five-hundred yards, and she would enter the security area for the Stratton Research Complex, where the military conducted long-term medical studies and carried out covert operations related to its discoveries. Buried partially in the side of the butte with more levels underground, the top-secret facility was known to fewer than fifty people. Her father had been selected for the program soon after its inception, and he’d recruited her when she’d officially enlisted in the army, even though she’d been training for years before that.

A sliver of a pale moon reflected on the giant boulders lining the road, and the night was silent except for the hum of her engine. Feeling warm, Devin shut off the car heater. In the sudden quiet, she heard a scraping noise in the back of the vehicle. She slowed for the next curve and looked in the rearview mirror. Lopez was upright and next to the back car door.
Shit!
Devin slammed her brakes and reached for the master lock.

Twenty minutes earlier

Taylor opened her eyes, but blackness still enveloped her. Where was she? Why couldn’t she see anything? A gag cut into the corners of her mouth and her head ached. Slowly, her eyes began to focus and she realized she was in the back of a vehicle. A moving vehicle. Oh god, where were they taking her? Terror gripped her, and she almost vomited. She couldn’t let that happen or she would choke. The gag wouldn’t let her take deep breaths either. Her heart slammed in her chest and she willed it to slow down. Why was this happening? She’d expected to be killed, not kidnapped. Confinement—and torture or rape or whatever they had in mind—frightened her more than death.

She rolled on her side to look around. Something dug into the front of her hip. Her little knife tool! Could she get to it? Her wrists were bound by plastic handcuffs this time, but her fingers were free. Still, her arms were awkwardly bound together, and she couldn’t get both hands into a front pocket. Using her fingertips on the outside of her jeans, she inched the tool upward toward the opening, then slipped it out. Getting the blade open was a struggle, but she finally managed. Now she felt almost more frustrated. Even if she could hack through the duct tape on her ankles—and that was doubtful—the vehicle was going thirty or forty miles an hour. It was also too dark to see what the terrain was like. If she jumped out, she would probably die or injure herself so badly she would wish she were dead.

Still, she had to do something! If she could get her ankles free, she would wait until the car slowed, then make a run for it. She’d rather be shot in the back than face whatever they had in mind.

Taylor brought her knees up to her chest and started cutting at the tape on her ankles. With little ability to apply pressure, she quickly grew frustrated and had to stop. But after a short break, she resumed, working until her hands ached and she had to rest again. A low voice from the front seat startled her. She glanced at the driver. Her abductor was talking softly to herself, unaware of the activity in the backseat.

Taylor resumed cutting at the layers of tape on her ankles. When she finally broke through, she had to choke back a sob of relief. With her legs free, she could run! She needed her hands free too, but at least she was functional. Should she go now? The plastic handcuffs could take forever to cut through—if she could even get the little blade into position. She needed to sit up for more leverage but couldn’t take the risk. When she tried to maneuver the tool into a new position, she dropped it.
Damn!
Finding it with her fingertips on the dark floor of the backseat proved impossible.

The car slowed for a curve, and her body rolled against the back of the seat. The deceleration gave her hope that she could make a leap and survive. She just had to get into position and anticipate the next opportunity.

The driver had gone quiet again. Did that mean anything? Taylor tried to calculate her location. Considering her suspicion about the military’s involvement, it seemed likely she was somewhere on Fort Carson. No, the base wasn’t that far from Colorado Springs, and they were still traveling. She had no idea how long she’d been unconscious. Maybe only ten or fifteen minutes. Her body processed sedative-type drugs very quickly. She’d learned that at an early age during painful dental appointments. When her tonsils had been removed as a teenager, she’d come awake during the surgery. But none of that mattered. She needed to get out now, wherever the hell she was.

Taylor slowly sat up, planted her feet on the floor, and inched toward the door on her right. Leaping to the outside of the curve was risky, but it also gave her the best chance of getting away. With her shoulder hugged against the door, she grabbed the door latch as best she could with her bound hands and waited for the right moment.

After a few minutes, she felt the car slow down. Her pulse accelerated, but her legs felt like lead. She couldn’t do this. It was too dangerous. Hitting the pavement would hurt a lot.
Shut up and go!
Taylor pulled on the door handle. Locked! She fumbled around for the mechanism and pressed it hard. The click was distinctly audible. Taylor glanced at the driver, who suddenly turned and stared at her with wide eyes.

No!

The car braked to a stop. Taylor leaned into the door to force it open and clambered out. On instinct, she turned back in the direction they’d come and ran along the road. With her hands bound, her movement was slow and awkward. She needed a place to hide before her abductor caught up. She scanned the terrain, but the near darkness was overwhelming.

Footsteps pounded behind her, moving fast.

Taylor tried to sprint, but without the use of her arms, it was pointless. She had to turn and fight and somehow overcome the assassin if she could. It was her only hope. She glanced down at the side of the road.
There!
A big rock, about ten feet ahead.

The loud footsteps were right behind her now.

Taylor scurried over, squatted, and grabbed it with both hands. The weight surprised her. She turned and lifted the rock, prepared to smash it down on the assassin’s head.

Stinging pain suddenly burned into her chest and thigh.
Oh god! A stun gun.
Shock ripped through every nerve in her body, and she lost control of her muscles. The rock crashed to the ground as she sunk to her knees.

The assailant squatted next to her and grinned. “I like your spunk.” Then she smashed a fist into her face.

An hour earlier

Jake heard a thump, then the phone went quiet. “Taylor? What’s happening?” More silence, except for the sound of footsteps moving away.
Oh shit!
The assassin had found Taylor! Jake jumped to his feet, still in his briefs. He was too far away to be any help. Panicked, he called 911.

“What’s your emergency?” A male voice and not very pleasant.

“My friend is being assaulted and needs help. She’s right in front of the police station.”

“Is this your idea of a joke?”

What?
“No! She called me because she was scared. I heard her make a startled noise, then drop the phone.”

“Then what happened?”

“Nothing. I heard faint footsteps walking away.” Taylor was probably dead, lying there on the sidewalk bleeding, like Zion had been. Jake’s throat closed up.

“Which police station?”

“The main one on Nevada Avenue. Will you get a cop out there please?”

“I’m calling it in now. Stay on the line.”

Why was that important? Jake put the phone on speaker and started getting dressed. He had to go out and see what was happening. It was stupid and dangerous, but he had to do it anyway. Taylor might still be alive, and he was only a mile or so away.

What if he got arrested? He hesitated for a moment, then pulled on his tattered athletic shoes. He would be careful. Sitting here just wasn’t an option.

“Sir, are you there?”

“Yes. What’s going on?”

“An officer at the department says there’s no criminal activity out front. Are you sure about the location? Could it have been the station on Center Park?”

“Maybe. Did you alert them too?”

“I will.”

The dispatcher should have done that already. Jake ended the call. He pulled on his jacket, grabbed the room key, and headed out. He would stick to side streets and keep a watchful eye for the killer. On the sidewalk, he changed his mind and sprinted down Nevada Avenue. He didn’t have time to waste. The thought that Taylor might die in an alley or a dumpster because he’d been afraid for himself…

Jake pushed down the emotions that threatened to derail him and focused on what he knew.
No criminal activity?
That just meant Taylor wasn’t lying in the open. Had the assassin taken her somewhere to kill her or had he just hidden her body? Were the cops even looking? The dispatcher had thought the call was a prank, so maybe the jerk had shared his skepticism with the police, and they hadn’t done more than walk outside and glance around.

The night was quiet except for the sound of generators humming. A lone pair of headlights appeared in the road a few blocks ahead. Jake veered off the sidewalk and ran under the carport of a fast food drive-up. The steel-and-glass enclosure of the pick-up window stuck out just enough to offer protection. He flattened himself against the wall behind it and waited.

A moment later, a truck drove by, moving too quickly to be looking for him. Jake counted to three, and ran back out to the road. He tried to think like the assassin. Where was the man in black? Lying in wait for him near the police department? Taking Taylor someplace to torture her for information?

Jake’s lungs ached with exertion, and he cursed himself for all the pot he smoked over the years. He would get back into shape after this, maybe start playing basketball again. If he survived. Jake tried to remember which cross street the department was on. Anything to distract himself from thinking about what he might find.

Seven streetlights later, he spotted the red-brick police station, the only building along the avenue with multiple lights on. Jake slowed to a walk. Time to start searching for Taylor. She might have been further away from the station than he’d thought.

He heard voices and saw two uniformed officers in the parking lot. They were walking toward the front door. He paused until they went inside, not wanting to encounter them. The way things were going, they might arrest him for making a false 911 call. If Taylor had given the detectives his name, they could have a warrant for his arrest. He wouldn’t blame her. This was his fault.

He searched the side street, but other than a few parked cars, it was obviously empty. The businesses didn’t have any landscaping that could hide a body either. Back at the corner, he stopped. Would the cops be watching out the window? Jake decided to cross the street and walk along the other side. When he reached the next corner, he crossed back, hoping he was out of sight.

More cars and trees lined this side street. With a heavy heart, he began to search, even glancing in back seats of vehicles. Maybe Taylor had gotten away and was hiding somewhere. But why wouldn’t she call? Because she’d dropped her phone. Yet his gut knew it was all wishful thinking. She wasn’t here because the assassin had taken her. Maybe just to dump her body in the wilderness where it would never be found.