“My head,” I said faintly, raising my hands and surprised to find them unrestrained. This room was a small one, me on a couch, a table between us, three chairs and three big men standing in front of the door. Ajar. I could see out into the hallway and knew I was in the security offices of the White House basement.
“Secret Service? You’re Secret Service. Great. Danny, what have you got me into? Now what? How am I supposed to get out of this?”
“He is nuts,” the agent called James admitted.
“I am not! There are two of us in here!” I yelled. “In my head.”
“You have a concussion on top of everything else,” he said and moved aside. “Let’s get him out of here, let Ames have his nutcase back.”
“Felice. Let me take talk to Felice,” I begged and it was Danny’s voice that spoke. I let him take over; I was curiously distant and didn’t seem to care much, not even when he said he was going to give me back to Parker and the Colonel.
“The President’s daughter isn’t interested in a nutcase. Why would she want to see you?”
It was Danny’s voice that answered him; Danny’s crackling high-pitched fourteen-year-old kid voice who begged, “Tell Lisi, it’s me, Danny. Downtown. Tell her Downtown said that I have to talk to her.” Before he could answer me, I felt my senses shutting down and I let go, even as Danny tried to get me to stay.
*****
“Dad, he’s not any threat to me or to you,” the girl’s voice argued. “Look at him. He’s beaten to an inch of his life. He can’t even open his eyes. I saw that man kick him in the face.”
No wonder my face hurt. My neck, too. I strained to open my eyes, and saw those green ones as I reached out to her face. She let me touch her soft skin and the shock was electric. Danny said, “Felice, you are so grown up. So pretty. Beautiful.”
“Who are you and why did you tell Jake that you know Dantan?”
“Downtown,” Danny said softly. “You used to call me, Downtown.”
“Dantan’s dead,” she said harshly. “He died over four years ago. What are you trying to pull?”
I heard the chuffing of an old dog, and saw the eyes of the Golden retriever whose face was silver gray and moved stiffly as if her joints ached.
“Dusty,” I said and she came into the room, pushing aside the agents to stick her nose into my face and licked me to the astonishment of both police and the Secret Service agents. Dusty reserved her affections only for close family and definitely not strangers. She laid her head on my lap and now, Felice, gently pulled up my swollen eyelid to peer into my eye.
“His eye is blue, she whispered. “And brown. Danny, tell me, what did I want for my fourteenth birthday?”
“Space camp,” I murmured. “I remember that, Lisi. Don’t remember much.”
“The fingerprints don’t match,” James argued. “I checked. His prints come back to a Daniel Atkinson, works out of Gen-dynamics, Nebraska, a division of AgroChem. He’s twenty-four.”
“Don’t know why I came here,” I said in a faint voice.
“Listen to him,” she argued. “His voice goes back and forth from a kid to an adult. Who are you now, Danny?”
“Daniel. Sometimes, I let Danny out. Right now, Danny is letting me talk.”
“Crazy,” one of the muttered.
She said, “I have a letter from Danny that he sent me and sealed with a kiss. I’ll bet you it matches this man’s DNA. I don’t care what your lab tests show, Jake. And Dusty knows him, too. Danny, what did they do to you?”
“Felice, we need to get him to a hospital, the doc thinks he has a concussion, severe whiplash at the least, maybe even a fractured neck.”
“I’m going with him,” she said, and over their protests sat next to me in the Escalade. I didn’t remember leaving the office, the ride up in the freight elevator or the ride in. Just a few images of her leaning over my face in her lap. And someone warning her not to move my head or neck. Something stiff around it. She smelled like lilacs.
*****
Daniel, can you hear me?
“Danny? Is that you?” I asked, wondering why I hurt so badly.
Daniel, I’m afraid. I’m not in the vault anymore. I can’t hide. You hurt so badly, and I can feel it, too. Daniel, why did they beat us?
“To keep from remembering, Danny,” I told him.
Remembering me, Daniel?
“I think so. Is it safe to wake up, Danny?”
I don’t know, Daniel. I’m stuck in this dark with you.
We heard the muted noises of a hospital, the beeping of machines and voices calling for doctors, respiratory techs over an intercom system and the squeaking of nurses’ shoes. We smelled iodine and alcohol, someone’s aftershave, the rustling of clothes, and the rasp as nylon brushed against nylon.
Coffee. Flowers. Faint odor of urine and sour sickness. Opened our eyes on the diminished slice of vision. Saw the same faces that I’d seen in the basement. “Who are you people?” I asked and it came out a gurgle. My head and neck were encased in a stiff collar. I groaned as the pain made itself known. My face hurt. My belly, back, all throbbed in the same rhythm as my hands, biceps and thighs.
“We’ll give you some more morphine, Danny,” the doctor said. I could barely read his name on his white coat. Doctor Christopher Soroka, M.D. Neurology. That James guy. Felice and a man I knew well from TV and briefings. Jason Rickover, the president. No sign of Parker or the Colonel.
“Just lay still, Danny. You have a concussion; you cracked several ribs, black and blues on nearly every inch of your body. Fractured cheek bone, broken eye orbit, two black eyes, your nose is fractured and your neck. How are your hands and feet?”
“Hurts, I managed.
“Good. That means you have feeling in them. Was he trying to kill you?”
“Parker?” I asked, feeling the slow tide of a drug going in.
“Agent Ames. Yes.”
“I stole his wallet. Ditched him. Pissed him off.” I paused for breath. “Don’t think he wanted to kill me. Too valuable.”
“To the Colonel? Who are you, Daniel? Your paper trail starts four years ago, to a Daniel Atkinson, adopted son of a Mitchell Gaines. Took some digging to find that out.”
“Mitchell,” I said slowly. “He was my dad?”
“What’s wrong with you? Are you mentally ill?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure who or what I am. Sometimes, I’m Daniel. Sometimes I’m Danny. Sometimes, I’m whoever you tell me to be.”
“Who made you this way, Daniel?”
“Doctor Cohen. Doctor Cohen and Doctor Everett. The Colonel. They tore me apart and remade me. So I could spy on people for the Colonel.”
“Spy on people? How, Daniel?”
I quoted the Colonel’s favorite saying, “I will give you dominion over the fish of the sea, over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves on the earth and through their eyes and yours, Daniel, and I will dominate this world.”
Chapter 28
I was awake, the misery of my abused muscles keeping me from resting, I ached feverishly yet cold shivers occasionally troubled me. It was deep in the bowels of the night and my room was dark, only the dim light in the hallway illuminated anything, just enough to show me the guard posted outside my door, a uniformed policeman that wore Navy blue of the DC police. He didn’t bother to come in my room to check on me, just peered through the glass to see if I was still in bed. I wasn’t moving, too much hurt when I tried with sharp pains that went down my back and up my neck to explode in my head.
I heard the door open and a body slipped into the room to stand over me. I could see the form, but not clearly enough to identify the face. I did know the voice.
“Daniel, the Colonel is not happy with you. Not happy at all,” Parker threatened. “In fact, if you don’t come with me out of here, I have orders to terminate you.”
“I’d rather be dead, Parker, then go back with you,” I said painfully. “How did you get in here
?”
“Waved my credentials to the cop. Homeland Security trumps Metro PD.”
“Homeland Security? You’re NSA.”
“Get up. Let’s go.” He spoke the trigger phrase, and all the pain disappeared though the weakness remained. He had to help me out of bed and hooked a wheelchair with his foot placing me in it. Covered me with the blanket from the bed. Sent the cop down the hallway on some errand. “Keep quiet, Daniel. Don’t speak unless I tell you to.”
“Yes,” I said flatly. Danny was protesting but he couldn’t access me. He was yelling in my head, distracting me from Parker’s commands.
Danny got through in the elevator, setting me gently aside, just as the doors closed and he yelled so loud he startled Ames and the people coming down the hallway. They started running and Ames pulled out his pistol, pushing it into my forehead, forcing my head back, even in the stiff collar.
“Shut up, Daniel, or I’ll make it permanent,” he threatened.
“You’re a dick,” Danny sobbed. “You won’t kill me. I’m too important, too valuable and unique. The Colonel will kill you if you hurt me.”
“The Colonel told me to bring you back, dead or alive, Daniel.” He pushed the button for the lowest floor, the parking garage.
“You can destroy Daniel,” I said, “but you can’t touch me.”
He stopped dead, his hands rolling me around to face him between two parked cars. Hybrids. I wondered what a hybrid was.
“Daniel, who are you?”
“I’m not Daniel,” I said bravely. “I’m Danny.”
“There is no Danny,” he laughed. “No, Daniel, either. You’re just a program downloaded onto a blank slate, programmed by Doctor Cohen and Doctor Andrews. You’re not real. The Colonel had you created so he could use your talent for the NSA and his Black Ops.”
I was silent, Daniel protested feebly; his fear making him nearly comatose. They had taken so much from me; I no longer knew what was real or lies.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked in a whisper.
“Fort Wyvern, Nebraska. What we call the zoo. Where the Colonel will reprogram you.”
“Please,” I begged. “Let me go! I’ve done nothing to you. Why do you want to do this to me?”
“Because you can read minds,” he said. “Even if you are crazy. I’ve seen proof. You can read minds of people you aren’t even near.”
“No, I can’t,” I sobbed. “The Colonel lied to you. I can’t read people’s minds. Only Daniel’s.”
“Daniel, Danny. Whoever you are, you belong to the Colonel,” he hit his key-chain and an agency SUV beeped in the parking structure. I struggled, and because Daniel had given over control to me, I was able to ignore his programmed response and make a break for it, while he was opening the car door.
He screamed at me to stop. I couldn’t believe how bad my body felt, I was surprised I was moving it all. This body was taller and heavier than I was used to.
I ran between parked cars heading for the stair well. I knew Parker was close behind, and I’d never have time to reach an elevator. Shouts followed us. A bevy of other male agents came out of the cage and stairwells above us. I skidded around a retaining wall and dropped down onto another level with Parker close enough to see his flaring nostrils. More of the Colonel’s men joined him, trying to cut me off.
“Daniel!” I gasped, “What do I do?” My eyes searched frantically for a way out and he told me to head for the wall of the orange level, O-6 and jump.
“Jump? Are you crazy?” I gasped even as I saw it. Hit the half wall and leaped, my legs tucked under me in a move reminiscent of a Parkour jump or skateboard airs. Sailed over the Annex and down onto a dumpster piled with garbage bags that cushioned my fall. Saw he had seen it through the eyes of a dozen long tailed cats clustered in and around the dumpster. Climbing out took an impressive bit of upper body strength. My ribs shrieked in protest and every ache tripled as I slipped to the floor. I turned around and saw Parker on the wall, his face a furious darkened mask of rage, his gun out and pointing straight at me.
Birds burst out of the rafters, rats ran from the maintenance tunnels, cats hissed and arched their backs. I turned and ran.
Tripped. Fell down in slow motion as a bee buzzed past my ear. Hit the concrete as a tidal wave of fur and feathers covered me.
A Maine Coon licked my face. It felt curiously warm, wet. I coughed. Saw sprays of red touch its coat.
“Daniel?” I asked and knew it was only in my head. So red, spreading on the cement under me, thick, viscous. Warm bodies covered me, nuzzled me so I wasn’t alone. I couldn’t breathe. My chest wouldn’t rise. I gagged. Fought for breath.
“Daniel,” I whispered. “Are we dying?” I heard the faintest whisper from him. I’m not real, Danny. So how can I die? Silence.
Chapter 29
Jake James saw the NSA agent in the parking garage, pushing Daniel in a wheelchair, his hand gripping the boy’s shoulder in a manner clearly not friendly. He yelled and bolted down the ramp, his fellow agents, cops, and guards from the boy’s protection detail following close behind.
“Ames! Stop, or we’ll take you down!”
Ames shoved the chair forward into the open door of an SUV, and James saw Daniel kick with both feet in a move that must have been agony. Saw Parker Ames fall and the boy get up and stagger. He ran like a drunk yet his 38-inch long legs were a miracle to watch, he was as fast as an Olympic sprinter.
More agents joined the chase and the White House Secret Service men cornered all but Ames, who managed to escape them.
“Jesus!” James cursed as Daniel leaped onto the wall and dove off in what was surely a lethal fall. Ames stood and fired just as Jake reached a clear shot when the NSA agent fired again. Both guns went off and Ames fell forward, not even screaming as he disappeared over the wall. Behind James, the rest of his men caught up and he was stunned when he saw who was in the lead. “Holy Christ! Mitchell Gaines!”
“Call an ambulance!” Gaines yelled, looking over the wall. What he saw caused him to rear back in astonishment. The boy’s body was surrounded by and covered with every beast of the earth and air, yet he could clearly see a growing pool of blood. “He’s bleeding, James!” Gaines shouted and leaped. The Secret Service agent followed seconds later, both of them rolling out of the dumpster. The animals hissed, beat their wings, and attacked, driving them both back.
“Danny,” Mitch begged. “Danny, it’s Dad. Let me help you, Danny.”
The boy turned his head and sent the animals away in a cloud that dimmed the sun and Gaines was able to search his body, finding two separate wounds in his back. He looked helplessly at the Secret Service agent who pulled off his jacket and shirt to wad them up against the bubbling blood. Turned the boy over to wince as he saw the larger exit wounds to the chest.
“Danny,” Mitch cried and drew the boy into his arms as they heard the wail of ambulances and helicopters. James spoke into his mike to order the medi-flight to come down and get the boy, telling them he had two gunshot wounds to the chest. He turned to Gaines, “who is he, Mitch?”
“Daniel Gaines, my son,” he cried, tears running down his cheeks. “I raised him from the time he was fourteen until Colonel Pierce took him away from me. I’ve been looking for him since. Nearly a year, James.”
“Who is he, Mitchell?”
Paramedics reached them and took the boy from Mitch’s arms. Had him intubated, lines in and shock pants on him. Rushed him up to the helicopter in less than a minute. They watched it fly off standing on the roof as the rest of his detail joined them. He asked again. “Who is he, Mitchell?”
“The Colonel stole him. From Oliver Sustain’s R&D lab in Fairfax. Two scientists had him, Doctor Everett Hawthorne and Doctor Marian Cohen. Behavioral psychiatrists and neurobiologist. Working on behavior modification. What we used to call brainwashing.” He paused. “They’re both dead. The Colonel had them eliminated. I think, I think he used to be Dantan De Rosier.”
&nbs
p; “Used to be?”
“The program destroys the original personality and then programs in a new one. Whatever the Colonel wanted. He had to wait four years for him to mature; no one would let a fourteen-year-old in the places the Colonel wanted to send him. He downloaded Danny, as Daniel, a French orphan who was abused and traumatized almost to a level of mental retardation. Jasmine and I adopted him. Pierce used his little techniques on us, also. When Daniel turned eighteen, he was accepted to CalPoly. We flew him out there. His roommate was Parker Ames. Jazz, and I never heard from him in person, always emails and recorded messages. I got suspicious and started checking up; Pierce found out and threatened me. I’ve been shadowing Ames, using old contacts, heard he flew in to Dulles. I’ve been two steps behind him since. What hospital will go to, Jake?”
“Walter Reed. Same doctors the President uses. Best Cardiac guys on the East Coast.”
“Get me there,” he begged.
“Why, Mitch? Why did the Colonel want this kid so bad, he’d kill for him?”
“Because he reads minds, James,” and such was his conviction that James believed him. He ordered an FBI chopper to pick them up, gave orders to his men to have a word with the President, Felice and to bring Senator De Rosier to Walter Reed but not reveal any of the situation to him. He notified the FBI about Ames and the Colonel, while Gaines fretted anxiously beside him.
The flight took five minutes and deposited the two on the helipad where they were met by more Secret Service and officers who escorted them to the waiting room outside of the OR.
The agent named Jimmy Peterson greeted James. “The ER surgeon came out, said he’s in surgery. Two bullets through the chest, one exited. He lost a lot of blood. They don’t know if he’ll make it. Who is he, Mitch?”
“President Rickover, his daughter and Senator De Rosier will be here soon, Pete. See to the security arrangements.”
“Who is this kid? Do we treat him with kid gloves or as a fugitive?”
“You treat him like he’s President Rickover’s son, got that? And his name is Danny. Let me know when the senior FBI SAIC gets here. I believe it’s Todd Dunne.”
“Yes, Sir. Senator De Rosier is in Virginia. He says if it’s important, he can fly in tomorrow.”
“It’s important enough to send a chopper for him, Pete, it’s important enough for him to be here now. See to it with an armed escort.”