The Gender Experiment: (A Thriller) (26 page)

She checked on her detainee. He’d made it to the car and stood there, looking pale and ill.

She opened the back door. “Get in.”

Devin climbed in and rested his head against the upholstery. He was clearly not well. She might as well take advantage of that.

Bailey got behind the wheel, found the key in the ignition, and started the car. “Let’s get closer to the complex where you were headed and call your father. I want to trade you for the kidnapped woman.”

Behind her, Devin grunted. “You’re outnumbered and wasting your time. You’ll be shot on sight.”

She weighed the threat. If it were real, she should take her detainee and evidence and get the hell off the base as quickly as she could. What if it was a bluff? Retreating without Lopez was tantamount to surrender. She was too close to winning the whole thing—rescuing the girl and apprehending the mastermind. Her ego and tenacious nature were fully in control. She recognized it, but couldn’t self-correct.

Renfro would be here soon,
she told herself. Maybe a whole team of agents. Bailey eased the SUV back onto the road and drove forward up the slope. “Tell me when we get close. And if someone starts shooting at me, I’ll use you for a shield.”

A long pause, then the young soldier finally said, “Pull over after you round the next bend.”

They were already in proximity, and he seemed to be cooperating. She knew better than to trust him, so she drove slowly, her weapon out the window, ready to return fire.

No shots came, so she pulled off behind a massive boulder. She turned to face Devin. “Tell me about the Peace Project. I’ve already figured out most of it, and you’re going to prison either way, so what’s the harm?” Bailey had a vague idea what they intended for ImmuNatal, but she wanted confirmation.

Devin looked startled. “Where did you hear that name?”

“Dr. Metzler gave a full confession, and he put all the blame on your father, Major Blackburn.” She gave the kid a quirky smile. “Tell me what I want to know, and you could walk away from this without a court martial.”

Devin shuddered. “You have no idea how important the Peace Project is. Stopping the major now would be disastrous for the United States. For all of the civilized world.”

She’d suspected this was about terrorism somehow, but she suddenly realized how the military mission would play out. “The drug is intended for the Middle East, correct?”

Devin didn’t respond, but his eyes signaled that she was on the right track.

“It makes people passive and non-reproductive, doesn’t it?”

The soldier shrugged.

Incredible idea, but challenging to execute and not one she would have had the patience for. “So they tested it here first to see if they got results they wanted.” But how would they target women all over Iraq and Syria where the terrorists had their stronghold? “Talk to me, Devin. You have nothing to lose.”

He was silent.

It all came together for her. “The Peace Project has operatives in the Middle East who are prepping and waiting to get the drug, correct? The plan is to put it into the water supply or a food source?”

A small smile from her detainee. “That would be smart.”

“Why not just produce a sterility drug?”

“We’re not them. We’re not trying to annihilate a population.”

But they intended to radically change a whole culture. Ambitious and brilliant. She admired Blackburn’s audacity.

She needed one more piece of information. “Who killed the pyromaniacs? And the receptionist who leaked information?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The soldier slumped back.

He’d shut down. Obviously, the murders were Devin’s role in the project, but he was smart enough to keep that to himself. With luck, DNA evidence would convict him.

It was time to rescue Taylor Lopez. Bailey grabbed the duct tape and tore off a short strip, then turned to her detainee “Does your father have a sense of humor?” She was feeling wicked, almost giddy. Either she was about to die or her blood sugar was dropping.

“No, he doesn’t.”

“Too bad.” She secured the tape over his mouth, then used Devin’s phone to call Major Blackburn.

On the second ring, a harsh voice cut in. “Devin! What’s your report?”

“This is Agent Bailey with the FBI. I have your son, but I’m willing to trade him for Taylor Lopez. Don’t bother denying that you have the girl. Devin already admitted that you did.”

A full five-second pause while the major weighed his options. “Where are you?”

“Just send Lopez out of the complex, and I’ll leave Devin and drive away. A backup team of agents will be here in a moment, so if you hesitate or fuck with me, the negotiation is over, and Devin will spend the rest of his life in prison. This is your only chance to save your son.”

Another long hesitation. “How do I know you really have him?”

“I’ll send you a photo.”

“How do I know you won’t go back on your end of the deal?” The major was smart enough to not admit anything.

“I want Lopez alive. If I cared more about prosecuting Devin, I wouldn’t be talking to you.”

“Give me a minute to consider.” The major disconnected the call.

Bailey calculated his possible responses. Blackburn might simply flee out another exit and disappear into the wilderness. Or he could wait it out and see if she really had a backup team. But if he was like most parents—based on what she’d observed—he would put his child first and send out Lopez. Bailey still couldn’t determine why they’d taken the girl, and that made the major unpredictable. Also, he might not be like other parents. If he’d trained his son to be an assassin, Blackburn might even be on the sociopathic spectrum.

Bailey took a picture of Devin, mouth still duct-taped and sent it to Blackburn. She pulled the tape off, in case her detainee wanted to share more information.

The kid made a throaty sound. “My father will never compromise himself to save me. I’m not that important to him.” Devin shrugged. “No soldier is.”

His tone was stoic but his eyes registered pain. Even she could perceive that. Not good. If Blackburn didn’t send Lopez out, Bailey would have to go in. Where the hell was her backup?

Blackburn called Rashaud, then shouted “Meet me in my office,” and hung up. He scanned the bedroom. Where were his damn pants? He’d just stepped out of the shower when he’d taken the call he thought was from his son. How the fuck had Devin let himself be caught by an FBI agent? More important, had his son destroyed the computer files at the clinic first? Or eliminated the reporter? Not that Wilson mattered now anyway, with the damn FBI on their trail. The bureau didn’t have jurisdiction on the base, and Blackburn wondered how the agent had gotten in past the checkpoint.

He walked to his clean clothes hanging on the back of a chair. As he pulled on his shorts, he stared down at his body.
Disgusting.
A penis so small women sometimes laughed when they saw it. Except Noreen. She’d wanted him, or at least his child. But why? His face? His authority? Certainly not for his body. He had man boobs, for god’s sake. He’d developed them at thirteen and had been mocked and pinched and tormented in school locker rooms. But he’d learned to fight and had joined the military to prove to himself he was as masculine as everyone else. Yet, he’d never made peace with his body, and eventually, he’d gone to medical school to learn everything he could about gender biology and how pharmaceuticals, hormones in particular, affected genitalia.

Blackburn shook off the old feelings. He was facing the worst crisis of his life and needed to focus. Head pounding with pain, he pulled on his clothes.
Damn.
He shouldn’t have drunk so much the night before. But now, the only way to get rid of the headache was to pour a little vodka into his orange juice. Only he didn’t have time for juice. Blackburn took a short swig from the cold bottle, strapped on his favorite handgun, and headed next door to his office.

He opened the entry to the hallway, and Rashaud was waiting, as he’d expected. Blackburn motioned him in and held out the photo he’d received. “An FBI agent has detained Devin, and I think they’re right outside the complex.”

Rashaud stared, open-mouthed. “He looks like a prisoner.”

“The agent, probably the woman who was here yesterday, offered to trade him for Taylor Lopez.”

“How did they know she was here? Devin must have been sloppy.”

Blackburn bristled. He could criticize his son, but Rashaud never should. “They may have been following Devin.” Blackburn would never tell anyone that his son had accidentally drugged himself with heroin. Was that what had made his son so careless?
Fuck!

“We can’t let the feds ever know the girl was here.” Rashaud bounced on his feet. “We’ll spend our lives in prison for kidnapping.”

Blackburn stiffened and glared at him. “But they already do. If we make the exchange, Devin has a chance to escape and start a new life somewhere. Then we can hire the best military lawyers we know for ourselves.”

Rashaud shook his head. “Devin is already compromised. They probably have evidence against him. Let him take the blame for everything.” The captain raised his voice. “Don’t let misguided emotion cloud your thinking. Cut your losses.”

Rage boiled in Blackburn’s veins. “Fuck that! We’re not sacrificing my son. I’ll take the blame. You can run out the back exit like the coward you are.”

Rashaud grabbed Blackburn’s shirt with tight fists. “Don’t ever call me that.”

Before Blackburn could react, Rashaud pushed him away and backed toward the door. “I’m taking Lopez to the incinerator. She’s the only real problem for us.” He pointed a finger. “You’re the one who brought her here, and now you’re the one who doesn’t have the courage to deal with her.” Rashaud turned and bolted through the door.

The insubordinate, ungrateful prick.
Blackburn charged after him. Once he put the captain in his place, he would grab the ImmuNatal from the lab, get up to the helicopter landing pad, and pilot the drug out of here. He didn’t care what happened to the girl, and Devin would understand that the Peace Project had to be his priority. The safety of the world depended on it. Blackburn couldn’t believe he’d forgotten that for a moment.

Taylor woke again after a restless night of horrific dreams. What would her captors make her do today? Except for the films, they’d been civil to her, even offering food she had no appetite for. She brushed her teeth, then tried to read the magazine she’d found on the desk, but it held no interest for her. The torture images she’d had to watch haunted her. She could see why Marissa had become an operative who dedicated her life to stopping terror. Someone had to. The terrorists were horrific, and she’d learned that they planned to take over Europe, then America, through violent warfare. But she didn’t feel capable of being a spy. In some ways, she realized she was a perfect candidate, no family, except an aunt in Virginia she never saw, and little chance at a normal life. She would never marry or have children, and her goal was to become a forensic technician or coroner—someone who focused on death. Even if she escaped this horrible place, her future held little promise.

Depression overwhelmed her, and Taylor lay on the bed. Maybe she should go along with the training and give her life some meaning. A soft rap on the door made her sit up.

Marissa slipped in. “Hello again.”

Taylor jumped to her feet. “Hey.” The young woman was prettier than she remembered. Did Marissa use her sex appeal to extract information from terrorists? Did she infiltrate radical cells? Taylor didn’t think she could do that.

Marissa came over and touched her face. “You’ve been crying.”

“Those films were horrible.”

“They’re real. You can’t forget that.” Marissa stroked her hair. “But I’m sorry I made you unhappy.”

Taylor stepped back. “No, you’re not sorry. That was the point. You’re manipulating me.”

The pretty spy smiled. “Yes, but I would rather make you happy.”

“Then tell me what the gender experiment was all about. Why did they give that drug to all those women? Why make intersex babies?”

“I can only tell you that it’s an integral part of the war on terrorism. The results won’t be seen for many years, but there will be peace.”

How?
Taylor’s mind struggled to match up the two ideas. “Is the drug intended for the Middle East? To make people passive?”

“You’re on the right track, but let’s not talk about that. I want to cheer you up.” Marissa grabbed Taylor’s hands and pulled her close. “I know you’re attracted to me. I see it in your eyes.”

She’d tried hard to suppress those feelings, but sexual attraction wasn’t something she could control.
Walk away.
“No.” Taylor shook her head and stepped back. “I’m not into women.”

“Like hell you’re not. You’re one of us.” Marissa moved in again and whispered. “I sense your hyper-sexuality.”

So Marissa
was
part of the experiment too. Taylor wanted to see her body… just out of curiosity.

The girl leaned in and pressed her lips against Taylor’s mouth. Gentle, yet urgent.

Oh god.
No one had ever kissed her like that. The one prostitute she’d been with had been perfunctory, and the only boy who’d ever kissed her had been stiff and awful.

Marissa wrapped her arms around Taylor and stroked her back. “You’re going to like training.”

This was the last thing she’d expected. Maybe she should just go along, as part of her escape plan. Marissa ran her fingers lightly over Taylor’s breasts. The shock and pleasure overwhelmed her. In the next few moments, Taylor saw flashes of the rest of her life. Seducing strangers, stealing data, using drugs to make herself forget the ugliness and fear.

She didn’t want it!

With everything she could muster, she shoved Marissa against the wall, slamming her head on the concrete. The girl made a soft cry, then slipped down to the floor.

Taylor froze.
Oh god.
What had she done?

Run!
Her brain screamed, even though her feet didn’t want to move.

Get her ID pass and run!
This is your chance.