Toys - A Novel Part 5

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 p.i.s.sed me off, big-time.

"What the h.e.l.l are you saying?" I yelled, struggling to break free. "Have you both gone crazy?"

"There's n.o.body 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? 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'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, skunk, but we're going to find out in a hurry. You sick b.a.s.t.a.r.d." but we're going to find out in a hurry. You sick b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

"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 victory cigars. 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, slow death, a fatal interrogation technique first used by humans during their brutal Terrorist Wars and later perfected by Elites. 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 sonofab.i.t.c.h. 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 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- 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, human, right? right?

Right.

Chapter 23

THIS WAS THE finest hospital in the world-and long ago I had learned this axiom from my mother and father: greatest strength is also greatest weakness.

How could I work with that? There had to be a way out of this. But what was it? What could I do now?

Greatest strength is greatest weakness, I repeated over and over in my head. I repeated over and over in my head.

Late that night, the highly sensitive cardio monitor near my bed let out a sudden bleep bleep. The steady rhythmic line on the screen jumped along with the sound.

A second later it bleeped again, then started into a rapid-fire alarm pattern, while the line leaped in erratic peaks.

A guard stepped into the room-his face hard and wary. Not a shred of sympathy.

"What's going on here?" he barked.

"My heart," I gasped. "Racing like crazy. Won't stop. Feels like it's going to explode."

The guard looked at the cardio monitor, then didn't waste any time-he wheeled around and ordered his partner, "Get the doctors the h.e.l.l in here! Do it. Now. He's having a heart attack-a big one!"

That was one thing I had in my favor. They wanted me alive, not dead; they had questions that needed answering... about how I got to be me.

Greatest strength is greatest weakness. This was the most efficient hospital in the world-they weren't going to let me die. This was the most efficient hospital in the world-they weren't going to let me die.

I revved my heart rate even higher than the 300 beats per minute I'd already reached. I was pus.h.i.+ng 350 when the team of emergency medical personnel burst into the room.

I writhed and grimaced in fake agony, though I actually was in pain. "Can't... breathe," I moaned. "There's an elephant on my chest. Help me! Please!"

Chapter 24

"WHAT THE h.e.l.l happened?" one of the doctors yelled at his staff. "You've been monitoring him from central control. The skunk was doing fine five minutes ago."

"Don't ask me-I never wasted any time learning medicine for skunks," another doc said. "We'd better get him out of that jacket though. Take him to a trauma room. He's up to three sixty!"

"Whoa, no you don't," one of the guards said and stepped in. "Our orders are not to let Hays Baker leave the room for any reason. That's not happening. Unless he's in a body bag."

"He's about to stop breathing for good. How's that for a reason?" the lead doctor snapped. "You can explain it to your boss, unless you'd rather explain that you're the one who killed him. Now get out of our way. He's dying! Now get out of our way. He's dying!"

Reluctantly, the guard stepped back.

Next, a pair of burly orderlies wheeled a gurney alongside my bed. They started to release the restraints.

I had never thought I would harm another Elite. But I'd never had Elites threatening to put me to a slow death either.

I kept up the act, but my muscles were tensed and ready to spring. The instant the shackles were unsnapped and the metal jacket pulled from my arms, I reared straight up out of the bed. I punched the nearest orderly and felt his nose break against my fist. He stumbled back in pain. I caught the second orderly with a chop across the neck, trying not to hurt him too badly. I was also careful to keep the orderlies between myself and the guards' guns.

The Elite doctors were rooted in shock. I pushed them aside and went for the guards, who were already clawing for their pistols. Fortunately, the room was full of equipment, including several monitors on stands.

As I lunged forward, I wrenched one free and swung it like a mace. I took out both guards before they could administer a "fast death" with their guns.

Alarms were shrieking and strobes were flas.h.i.+ng all over the building by now. I could hear footsteps pounding down the hallway.

I grabbed a doctor by the neck-the one who'd never wasted his time learning human medicine-and held him in front of me as a s.h.i.+eld.

"One more step and I start throwing around his body parts," I yelled at the approaching security team. "And, yes, I'm completely serious about it, and I'm capable. I'm human, right?"

I backed down the hallway to where it turned. I swung the doctor horizontally, then I sprinted toward the front of the building. Now I was using him like a battering ram to crash through everything and everyone in my way.

Carts went flying, gurneys were overturned, wide-eyed, shrieking nurses leaped back against the walls to avoid being trampled.

Still holding on to my screeching hostage, I bounded down an escalator to the lower level. Next, I burst into the cafeteria's kitchen, where blank-faced robot workers tended the huge, metallic complex, churning out no-cal grub that was also virtually no-taste.

As I raced through, I dropped the doc into a bin of sc.r.a.ps. I caught a glimpse of his bulging-eyed face as he flopped around in the rank garbage.

"That'll teach you to call me a skunk," I told him.

Then I charged out through a loading-dock door into an alley-and, hopefully, the freedom of the night.

Unfortunately, I thought, I thought, maybe I am a skunk. maybe I am a skunk.

Chapter 25

THE COOL, FRESH night air quickly filled my lungs and began to dry the fevered hospital sweat off my skin. Adrenaline was keeping the pain at bay, and running was stretching and loosening my traumatized body.

Before long, I was pounding along the pavement at close to my top speed, fifty miles an hour.

I had to see my daughters and my wife-hold them in my arms, tell them I loved them, try to explain that whatever wicked stories they might hear weren't true. Or, at least, that there had to be some reasonable explanation for the mix-up.

No matter what else, I wasn't a traitor. That much I was certain of.

Our apartment wasn't far from the hospital; I reached the building in less than ten minutes.

Suddenly, I was very nervous and apprehensive.

I paused to listen for sounds of pursuit, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. Not so far, anyway. The side-door entrance recognized my bioprint and opened on contact. The police probably figured this would be the last place I'd go right now. I hoped so.

Was it possible that Lizbeth had turned on me as totally as Jax Moore said she had? Or was he lying-another part of this insanity? But why would he lie to me?

This time, when Metallico answered the apartment door, there was no robo-rap music playing, or sounds of any kind. The place felt empty. The air smelled strongly of antiseptic, and there were cleaning materials left out all over the living room.

"h.e.l.lo, Hays," Metallico said. "I'm afraid I can't invite you in. Sorry about that."

His tone was flat and neutral, and he seemed downright stiff-like an ordinary android instead of his usual sa.s.sy self.

"This is my house. You work here. What do you mean you can't invite me in?"

"The apartment is being decontaminated."

"Where are they?" I demanded. "Lizbeth? The girls? I need to know. Right now, Metallico! I'm not in the mood for games."

"I'm not at liberty to say. That's final."

I groaned. This was going nowhere fast, and I was pretty sure this unfaithful robot had already sounded the emergency alarm. Indeed, my hearing picked up the sound of fast-approaching airborne cars-and a couple more vehicles stopping on the streets below. I suppose I should have expected as much.

I rammed the heel of my hand into the robot's silicone chest, sending him spinning across the room. Metallico crashed into a wall with a bright flash as his circuits collapsed and shorted him out.

"Take that, you treacherous vacuum cleaner!" I said, standing over his crumpled body.

Next, I peeled the silicone skin off the back of his bulb-shaped head. I quickly removed his short-term-memory chip, grabbed my backup PDA from the drawer in the desk in the hall, and dumped the chip's data into it.

"Grandmere," I said, sighing. Of course. Lizbeth had taken the kids to her mother's house in the suburbs. Where else?

Grandmere was an aging, but still beautiful, lady with an icy charm and a keen sense of social cla.s.s. Only the best of the Elites were good enough for her.

Once upon a time, that had meant me, but no more. And, probably, never again.

Dammit though, I missed my family. Didn't that alone prove I was Elite? Didn't that alone prove I was Elite?

Chapter 26 26.

NO TIME FOR such sentimentality. The Agency commandos would be up here in seconds, heavily armed, ready to kill me if they had to. I was fairly certain the luxury building was already surrounded. So I ran to the back of the apartment and threw open the balcony door. Sure enough, police vehicles were already circling in the air and barricading escape routes on the ground. They wanted me-badly.

Spotlights flared suddenly. A voice boomed, "Stop where you are, Hays Baker! Down on your belly and spread your arms and legs!"

I'd spent time on the other side of those spotlights, and I knew the weapons that went with them-stun guns that would paralyze me if if they were determined to keep me alive. Or lasers that would turn me into a six-foot-two cinder. they were determined to keep me alive. Or lasers that would turn me into a six-foot-two cinder.

Question was-did they want to keep up this charade of pretending I was a skunk who needed to be brought in and interrogated?

I dove sideways to the neighboring balcony, twenty yards away, caught its lower rim, and swung myself down to the floor below.

The searchlights followed, and then bursts of laser fire hissed around me.

Well, that that question was answered anyway. I was obviously wanted-dead or alive. question was answered anyway. I was obviously wanted-dead or alive.

I went from balcony to balcony, flipping and twisting like a monkey dodging poison darts. Only the poison darts were traveling at the speed of light and punching three-inch-wide gashes in the concrete walls. Also, if I'd actually been a monkey, I'd have already lost my tail-one of the blasts came so close that it set the trailing edge of my hospital gown on fire.