The Gender Experiment: (A Thriller) (24 page)

His plan was to break in with a credit card. If that didn’t work, he would use a crow bar on one of the doors or windows. He fully expected an alarm to go off, but he figured he’d have enough time to grab the computer from the director’s office, run to the car, and drive out the back. Drug addicts and burglars pulled off these kinds of stunts all the time.

The sight of another car parked behind the building startled him. A dark SUV.
Oh shit.
Was that the assassin? A flashlight flickered inside the clinic. Whoever it was had access but didn’t want anyone to know about their visit. Jake sat for a moment, paralyzed with indecision. Self-preservation told him to stay in the car and wait to see who came out. But what if the clinic director was deleting files and hiding evidence? Or it might even be the military researcher who’d conducted the experiment. They might be destroying the only link to their involvement and the only path to Taylor’s location.

Jake forced himself to get out of the car, then reached back inside for the crowbar. The clinic’s rear door was likely still unlocked, but he wanted the tool for protection. If the armed assassin was in there, the crowbar might be pointless, but it made him feel better anyway.

At the door, he pulled on wool gloves and reached tentatively for the handle. It turned easily, and no alarm sounded. Jake let out the breath he’d been holding and pushed open the door. He hesitated a moment, decided no one was lying in wait, then stepped inside. Two night-lights along the wall at the floor level illuminated the back hallway. He hurried to the administrative area, stepping lightly. But his footsteps seemed to echo in the empty building. Tucked behind a tall filing cabinet he tried to mentally pinpoint where he’d seen the flicker of the flashlight.

The sound of metal crashing into metal made him flinch. Was that a computer being destroyed? While the noise muffled his presence, Jake rushed to the center of the building where the nursing staff desks were located and ducked down behind a counter. During the short run, he’d spotted a man crossing a hallway. Dark clothes and a hoodie.
Shit!
His instinct was to run from the building.

Jake inched up and peeked over the counter at the hallway. He saw the man smash a computer with a hammer and throw it onto a wheeled cart. It wasn’t the first machine in the pile. He was destroying—and likely intended to remove—every digital file in the building.

No!
Jake’s legs trembled. The guy had to be stopped, but he didn’t know how. He wasn’t a cop or superhero, and he would probably die trying but he had to try. Jake slipped his phone from his pocket and texted Agent Bailey again:
Need help at clinic. Man smashing computers
. He pressed Send, hoping she was a light sleeper.

He thought about calling the police but changed his mind. How would he explain his presence at the clinic on a Sunday morning before dawn? He needed Agent Bailey to get here now. If she didn’t arrive in time to arrest the perp, Jake would keep out of sight and follow him. Hopefully, the guy would lead him to Taylor.

Footsteps thundered in his direction.

Jake’s heart missed a beat as he scrambled around on his knees, looking for a place to hide.

Legs appeared in the opening between two desks, and a soft voice whispered, “I’ve got you this time.”

Oh shit.
He had to do something now or he would die, cowering on the floor. Jake tightened his grip on the crowbar and lunged. A sharp blast rang out, followed by intense pain. He dropped the crowbar and grabbed his chest, knowing it was over for him.

On the ride to Carson Obstetrics, Seth blasted his favorite indie rock band. The heavy beat filled his mind with kinetic energy—to go with the pain-numbing rush of the meth. Just what he needed to carry out the burn. This would be his greatest blaze yet—if the snow didn’t interfere. It might even be his last. Once he’d torched the clinic that had spawned him, maybe he would lose the impulse to watch fires. Or not. As long as no one got hurt, he didn’t see a problem. That was why he was doing it now, in the middle of the night when no one would be in the building. The place would be locked of course, but he didn’t need to get inside. He had a bag of bricks and Molotov cocktails. He would throw his sweet little firebombs in through the broken windows, then run like hell to a place where he could watch in safety.

He drove past the clinic, turned onto a side street, and looked for a secluded place to park.
There
. Behind the health food store. Its roof looked accessible. The store would be open later, with other cars in the parking lot, so Ray’s crappy car wouldn’t be noticeable if he had to ditch it and leave on foot to avoid the police. He parked the Toyota, adjusted his satchel, and jogged across the strip of grass to the clinic on the other side.

Surprised to see two cars in the back lot, he stopped, mouth open.
Well fuck.
What the hell were people doing here? Were they inside the building? He didn’t see any lights on. His mind raced with possibilities and his pulse kept pace. They could be lovers who met here and walked to a nearby motel so no one would see their cars together. Or party people who took their action somewhere nearby.
Whatever.
He was too jacked up to abandon his mission. This fucking freak show had to go. Every nerve in his body hummed with the need to watch it burn. If anyone was in there, they would run out as soon as the first firebomb went off. The Molotovs were noisy motherfuckers.

Seth charged toward the windows in the front. He wanted to start with a big target, a sure thing. As he rounded the corner of the building, he grabbed the first brick from his satchel and hurled it with all his might at the lobby window.
Goddamn, that felt good!
The crash of breaking glass gave him another jolt of pleasure. He reached for a firebomb, lit the gas-soaked rag, and hurled it through the hole in the glass. It exploded in a sharp blast. Flames burst upward, and Seth watched through the window, mesmerized.

Keep moving!
He could enjoy the whole blaze in a few minutes—from a safe distance. Sprinting again, he charged around to the side of the building and hurled another brick, followed by a second firebomb. The flames fed his soul, and he stayed to watch for a moment. The light, the orange glow, the danger. So beautiful.

Keep moving!
Seth sprinted toward the back of the clinic. One more. The sound of a car approaching made him slow down. He glanced over his shoulder. Not a cop.
Good news.
But what the fuck was everyone doing here? A damn staff meeting? He hurled the last brick-and-firebomb combo but didn’t stop to enjoy it. He had to disappear for a minute in case the person in the car had seen him.

He darted behind a dumpster and bent over to catch his breath. He could smell the blaze now, the intoxicating aroma of hot carbon. As much as he wanted to stay close, he would wait for the car to leave, run across the median, and climb to the roof of the health food store. If he lay flat to keep out of sight, he could watch the blaze until the fire trucks arrived. He’d earned it. In the darkness, another vehicle started. Someone leaving? From his hiding spot, he couldn’t see the back parking lot. The engine roared and seemed to race away. A few minutes later, another car sounded like it followed the first one. Was it safe to make his break? Seth stepped to the edge of the dumpster and peered out. Two of the cars were gone, but the piece-of-shit Jetta was still there.
Oh fuck!
That was Jake’s car.

A weak cry for help drifted out the broken back window.
No!
Jake was in there, hurt. Not by the fire, he hoped. But what if he was trapped? His new friend cried out again, a little more desperate.
Oh fuck.
Seth had never hurt anyone with his burns, and he couldn’t let this one get ruined with fucked-up guilt.

Seth sprinted for the back door. He would get Jake out of the building, then run like hell. If the cops were on the way, he might have to watch this fire on the news.

Twenty minutes earlier

A beep from her phone made Bailey sit up in bed. A text? She grabbed her cell and pressed the icon. A message from Jake Wilson:
Need help at clinic. Man smashing computers.

What the hell?
She blinked and focused on the time: 3:43 a.m.

Bailey bolted out of bed and pulled on her shoes. What was Jake doing at the obstetrics office, let alone this early on a Sunday morning? And who was destroying evidence? She secured her Glock, pulled on her jacket, and bolted out of the room. Snow was coming down in a steady white sheet. She wasn’t dressed for this shit, but the extra layers she’d bought were still in the car. Bailey rushed to her rental and climbed in. Did she need backup? She reached for her phone, then changed her mind. She would check out the situation first. Getting other agents out to Colorado Springs would take hours. What if the man destroying files at the clinic was just a meth-crazed burglar? Or a janitor acting on orders from someone else? She didn’t need help with either of those scenarios. In fact, she preferred to operate on her own as much as possible. Especially since she was willing to ignore the rules to get the job done.

A few inches of snow had piled up, and the short drive down Nevada Avenue was surreal. Deadly quiet with moonlight glinting off the white powder. No vehicles traveled the streets, but fresh tire marks in the lane indicated someone had been through recently. Wilson? She’d just passed his new motel.

As she approached the clinic, bursts of orange light radiated in the dark. Was that a fire?
Holy shit!
Bailey pressed the accelerator and skidded into the empty parking lot. Where were the cars? She drove around the building and spotted the Jetta she’d seen in front of the motel when she’d met with Jake. Nearby was a large SUV. Glock in hand, Bailey climbed from the car. The fire unnerved her. Was the intruder burning the clinic to destroy evidence of the experiment? Was Wilson still inside?

A fast-moving figure caught her attention. Dressed in dark, the skinny man sprinted around the corner and hurled something through a window. Glass shattered as the man stopped and reached in his pocket. He drew his arm back and threw another object through the broken window. A second later, a small boom shook the night, and flames shot up inside the glass.

Molotov cocktails! The intruder was burning down the clinic. Bailey processed her options. Go inside and check on Jake or apprehend the unsub. The fire-starter might know where Taylor was or had been hired by someone who did. The pyro might even be the researcher who’d conducted the illegal drug test, or the killer who’d killed the other subjects—and might kill more. She sprinted after him. He was fast, but so was she. If he stopped to hurl another firebomb, she’d catch him and take him down.

Three seconds into the chase, an engine started behind her. Bailey slowed and glanced over her shoulder. The SUV, running without headlights, barreled straight at her. She hugged up against the building and stared at the driver. Another young man in dark clothes. This one with a short buzz cut. Was he the one who’d been inside destroying files? She tried to read the license plate but it was too dark, even with small fires burning inside the clinic. She processed her options again. The military-style haircut of the driver made him more likely to lead her to Lopez—or the secret complex. The fire-starter was already out of her line of sight now anyway. She’d lost him when she leaped out of the vehicle’s path.

Bailey turned and sprinted for her car. She would follow the second perp and call for backup.

On the road, Bailey pressed the newest entry in her phone and willed Renfro to answer. Finally, the other agent said a sleepy, “Hello?”

“It’s Bailey. I need assistance. Alert the police to a fire at Carson Obstetrics, then get in your car and drive toward Fort Carson. I’ll update you on my location.” The military base was just a guess, but the SUV ahead of her was traveling south in that direction.

“What’s happening?”

“Unsubs are destroying evidence, and I’m following one now. He might lead me to the missing woman. Call the Denver field office as well. We may need a whole team.”

“Will do.”

Bailey hung up.

The darkness was frustrating, but she kept her headlights off, so the SUV driver wouldn’t see her behind him. No other vehicles were on the road, yet, so it wasn’t much of a risk. But daybreak would be coming soon. As they drove south, the snow tapered off, then finally stopped.
Thank god.
She called her boss, unconcerned about the time. Lennard was quick to pick up. “Damn, Bailey. Do you ever sleep?”

“Things are breaking here. The clinic is on fire, I’m following an unsub, and the missing woman could be in a secret complex on Fort Carson. I might need a SWAT unit to rescue her.”

“It’s the military. You’ll need a damn presidential phone call.”

That worried Bailey too. “So start working on it. They’re destroying evidence right now.” Bailey wasn’t even sure why this case had become so important to her. With all the shortcuts she was taking, it could ruin her career instead of helping it. But she wasn’t capable of giving up.

“Are you sure the woman is there?”

“Yes.”
A small lie.
“Even if she’s not, the mastermind of the experiment, the person who likely ordered the murders, is there. His name is Major Sam Blackburn, and who knows what else he’s got going on?”

“The audio file you sent doesn’t mention the missing woman or a secret complex,” Lennard argued. “Do you have anything else I can use to get a warrant or executive order?”

She didn’t have time for paperwork! “The doctor’s diary mentions Major Blackburn and a secret lab, but I’m in pursuit and can’t fax anything right now.” She held back a string of swear words.

A long silence from her boss. Finally, Lennard said, “I’ll get a SWAT unit on standby and talk to the director about protocol for raiding a military base.”

Not good enough.
Bailey glanced at the road ahead and realized the SUV had disappeared. “I have to go. I’ll try to keep you updated.” She pressed her earpiece, turned on her headlights, and punched the accelerator. Where had the damn vehicle gone? The highway was relatively straight, but other vehicles were traveling now, so maybe the SUV was still ahead. She spotted a sign for Fort Carson. Maybe the driver had turned off already.