The Gender Experiment: (A Thriller) (6 page)

Shit!
A journalist. The last thing the Peace Project needed was a reporter snooping around. At least he wasn’t still with the newspaper. How had he gotten involved? Was Lopez telling him about the subjects that had come through the morgue? Maybe her visit to Carson Obstetrics too. If the clinic receptionist hadn’t accessed the data and triggered a software alert, they might not have known about Lopez’s inquiry.

In some ways, terminating Bonnie Yost had been harder than taking out the subjects. The old woman had reminded Devin of her grandmother, and she’d had a moment of doubt. Yet Bonnie was old and had used up most of her life, so that eased Devin’s guilt. She was still coming to terms with assassinating the fire-obsessed subjects who had the potential to cause trouble and draw scrutiny to the project. The three men had been so young. Devin pulled up her sleeve and glanced at the fresh tattoo she’d had inked last week. Another flame, like the first subject, to represent Adrian Warsaw’s passion, and with his initials blended into the flickering light. It was the least she could do to honor the life she’d taken.

She would get one for Lopez and Wozac too after she terminated them. But they were all like her—a gender mess. Killing them was an act of kindness that would spare them a life of freakish loneliness. Or a long stretch in prison. Unlike the other subjects, Devin felt lucky to have a purpose.
The Greater Good.
It always took precedence over individual lives. That’s what the military was all about. Sacrificing a few to save the many—and the innocents.

Devin stepped in front of the window to observe her targets. They seemed to be engaged in a lively conversation. She knew what her orders would be, but it was essential to update the major. She walked to the corner to get away from the entrance and called his private cell phone.

“What’s the situation?” The major was direct, as always.

“Taylor Lopez is talking to an ex-journalist named Jake Wilson.”

“Dammit all to hell! You were supposed to terminate her.”

Devin had only received the assignment thirty-six hours earlier, and the clinic receptionist had been the priority. Followed by Tumara, who she’d been watching for a few days. But making excuses would only worsen the reprimand. “I’m sorry, sir. I was waiting for the right opportunity to make it look accidental.”

An unexpected pause. “I’ve changed my mind. Bring Lopez in. New information leads me to believe she’d be a good candidate for operative training.”

That surprised Devin, even though two other subjects had entered the program. “Yes, sir. What about Wilson?”

“He needs to be terminated. But get Lopez first, then wait a day or so and make Wilson look like an accident as well.”

Faking accidents was more challenging than a bullet to the brain, but she would pull it off. Again.

“Better yet, make him disappear,” the major added.

Damn.
Disposing of bodies was a pain in the ass. “I believe Wilson might be homeless, sir. I can give him an overdose and leave him on a park bench. No one will even care.”

“As long as he’s never connected to the clinic.”

“I’ll handle it.” She heard footsteps and glanced over at the front of the coffee shop. It was just an older woman entering.

“You’d better. I’m already concerned about the subjects’ bodies. You must have left too much of them intact or Lopez wouldn’t have been able to connect the deaths and start snooping around the clinic.”

Devin had failed him and deserved the reprimand, but this time she had to explain. “The fall from the seventh floor should have damaged the first body more than it did. I left Warsaw intact because it needed to look natural, and he never left his apartment complex. But the third one, which I just completed, will not be identified as intersex. I put several bullets in his groin and chest.”

The major grunted. “It’s unfortunate that the morgue attendant is one of the subjects. It’s in her file, but no one foresaw that it would be a problem.”

He was letting her off the hook. A rare moment. She checked the coffee shop entrance again. Still quiet.

“Report to me when you bring Lopez into the complex.”

“Yes, sir.”

The major ended the call. Her father liked to keep their relationship formal. Most likely because he thought of her as male. She’d never tried to correct him since that one time when she was a kid. Her Army-short hair, workout buff muscles, and wide face helped her pass as male, and she was glad to be treated like a man. The major wouldn’t have told her about the Project or let her into the program if he’d raised her as a daughter. Devin had known from the age of twelve that she’d been part of an important experiment that would help keep America safe. Her sniper training had started at fifteen, and she’d taken out her first target at eighteen.
For the Greater Good.
She’d played the motto over and over in her head to suppress the unexpected sense of loss and shame. She’d expected the assassinations to get easier, but she was relieved not to have to terminate Taylor Lopez. Why? Because Lopez identified as a female?

Devin stepped around to the front of the coffee shop. Lopez and Wilson weren’t at their table.
Fuck!
Devin opened the door and scanned the cafe. They weren’t at the counter either. Yet, they hadn’t come out the front door. She would have seen them from her post on the corner. Had she missed them while focusing on the major’s orders?

No, they’d snuck out a back door. She’d lost her targets. Devin sprinted down the side of the building. As soon as she had Lopez and Wilson in sight again, she would move quickly to silence them.

A few minutes earlier

Jake grabbed Taylor’s hands, and this time she didn’t pull away. “We need to leave now,” he urged. “And go out the back door, in case you were followed.” An equal mix of fear and excitement pulsed in his heart. He hadn’t felt this alive since he’d lost his job. Or maybe ever. This was big, a news story unlike anything he’d ever investigated. He pulled his backpack over his shoulder and stood. “I’m serious. Let’s go.”

Taylor’s green eyes searched the small cafe, as she clutched her cup. She looked terrified, but he couldn’t help that. Four people were already dead, and she could be next. For a second, her face caught his attention. Smooth skin, angular cheekbones, and hauntingly attractive. Yet not distinctly feminine or masculine. Was she intersex too? Like the others on the list? He would ask her eventually, but it didn’t matter. He liked her already for her courage, even though she didn’t know she was brave.

The door opened again, and they both spun toward it. Two teenage boys. Jake turned back to Taylor. She was already standing and pulling on her sweater.

“Is there a back door?” she asked.

“There has to be. I think fire codes call for it.” Jake rushed toward a small alcove at the back of the cafe, finding a bathroom door on the exterior wall plus an unmarked door on the right. After glancing over his shoulder to make sure Taylor was behind him, he pushed open the unmarked door and entered a small kitchen. The middle-aged woman who’d served their drinks turned in surprise. Jake grinned and kept moving. He’d spotted a door with a push-bar handle tucked between two steel refrigerators. But the exit didn’t lead outside. They found themselves in a dim hallway that connected to the business on the other side of the building.

“Oh no. Can we get out?” Taylor asked, keeping a half step behind him.

“I think so.” If the business was still open to the public, and if its back door wasn’t locked.
Shit
. Jake didn’t know this area well. Denver was a big city, and he hadn’t lived here long. He spotted an opening to the right and turned. Another door with a red Exit sign. He pushed through, and a cold blast of air chilled his face. The dark alley reminded him of finding Zion’s body, and he repressed a shudder.

Grabbing Taylor’s hand, he ran left, away from the coffee shop. If a hit man was waiting near the corner, watching the front door for Taylor to exit, the assassin might still be able to see them. Or at least see their movement. The low-wattage bulbs over the doors didn’t offer much light.

Jake didn’t look back until they’d reached the sidewalk at the end of the alley. He let go of Taylor’s hand and asked. “Where is your car?”

“On the next block, not far from the coffee shop.”

If the killer had followed Taylor, then he knew her car and might be watching it. “We’ll circle the block and see if we spot anyone lurking.”

“I can’t abandon my car!” Taylor strode down the sidewalk, passing a closed storefront.

Jake hurried to catch up. “I know. We need it to drive to Colorado Springs.”

Taylor glanced over at him. “We need a plan, and for the record, you’re not in charge.” Her voice was soft, but determined.

Jake laughed. “I know. I tend to be bossy. Especially if I’m worried.”

“I think you might be overreacting. My name wasn’t checked. It just had an asterisk, and maybe Bonnie did that, just as a note to herself.”

Wishful thinking.
“Maybe. But now that you’re investigating, they’ll want to shut you down.”

Taylor didn’t respond.

They reached the end of the block and stopped. Once they stepped past the edge of the building, they could be seen by someone in front of the cafe.
Just go for it.
Jake put his arm around Taylor. “Hug me back. We’ll look like a couple with no worries.”

Taylor reluctantly slid her arm around him, her body tense. She was so lean! No softness to her at all. After a lone car passed them, Jake pulled her in close and took off across the street. On the other side, he kept going. They would circle the block and come back on the next avenue. “Where exactly is your car?”

“Parallel to us one block over.” Taylor pulled away. “It’s not directly in front of the coffee shop. I think this will work.” She made an odd sound in her throat. “If anyone is watching, I would expect them to go after Seth first.”

“The fourth name?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t find him.”

“I may be able to help with that too.” Cold air squeezed his chest, and Jake realized he hadn’t zipped his jacket before they bolted. “We need to warn Seth even if we go to the FBI with all this.” He didn’t know what to call the collections of deaths, correlations, and list people. Evidence? Theory? Taylor had referred to the births as an experiment. “The feds may not take us seriously enough to act quickly. Seth could be living his last moments.”

“Don’t say that,” Taylor snapped. “I feel bad enough that I didn’t warn Zion in time.”

Jake patted her arm as they hurried around the corner. “You tried, and you’re still doing everything you can.”

Two couples pushed past them on the sidewalk, talking in loud, drunk voices. Jake suddenly craved a tall mug of dark ale, with a joint chaser. But he had to keep his shit together. This could be the most important journalistic endeavor of his life. Getting it right and selling the story to a major newspaper or magazine could be the break he needed to make a career comeback.

“My car is just around this next corner.” Taylor picked up her pace. “I’ll unlock it as soon as I’m within range, and we’ll run for it.”

“What’s the make?”

“A white Jetta, in the middle of the block.” Taylor stepped around the building and pressed her key. They heard the beep and both charged forward. As he ran, Jake glanced to the end of the sidewalk but didn’t see anyone lurking or watching them. He jumped in the passenger’s side. He would rather be the driver, but it felt good just to be inside a vehicle for the first time in weeks.

Taylor started the car and eased onto the street. “Do you see anyone back there?” She glanced in the rearview mirror.

“No. I think we’re good.” Had he been too paranoid? Maybe Taylor wasn’t in danger. A wave of doubt rolled over him. Was she making all this up? Some people were loony enough to fake their own kidnappings or other bizarre events. But he had found Zion’s murdered body. How could she have known about Zion? Unless Taylor was the killer. Oh god. Was she a psychopath?

Taylor touched his arm, initiating contact for the first time. “Thanks for taking me seriously. It’s nice not to be alone in this.”

Jake buckled his seat belt and leaned back. He would investigate everything she’d told him, including her claim to work at the morgue, but his instinct was to believe her. “Let’s go get my phone, then drive to Colorado Springs and find a cheap motel. We’ll visit the clinic first thing in the morning. Only this time, I’ll try to access a computer and see if I find relevant files.”

Taylor gave him a look. “Do you have money for a motel?”

He had Zion’s cash and bankcard. “Sort of. Do you have any resources?”

“Sort of.”

“Once we contact the FBI, they might put you into protective custody.”

“That sounds horrible.” She shook her head and turned left at the intersection. “Another good reason to not contact authorities.” Taylor glanced in her rearview mirror. “There’s a car back there, but I can’t tell if it’s following us.”

Jake looked over his shoulder. The headlights were a block and half behind them. “Probably not.”

“Maybe after we warn Seth, I should just run,” Taylor suggested. “I have an online friend in Oregon who would probably take me in for a while.”

Jake felt a chill. If the military was behind the experiment and the killings, Taylor might not be safe anywhere. Now that he knew, he might not be either. “Let’s see what we can find out, then we’ll call the FBI. We can keep you in the background until you feel comfortable talking to them.”

Taylor was quiet for a minute. “Perfect. Thank you.”

He gave her directions to his friend’s house, then texted him to make sure he was home. Ryan was happy to hear Jake could buy back his phone, and he couldn’t wait to get it. Giving up his connection to the internet had been like losing an arm. The worst part of being homeless.

“Why does he have your phone?” Taylor asked.

“I needed some cash, and Ryan loaned it to me. But kept the phone as collateral.”

“It must have been a lot of cash or he’s not much of a friend.”

Jake laughed. “A little of both. I haven’t been in Denver very long.”