ANOMALY.MIL (The Conspiracy Series Book One): A Romantic Suspence Novel (20 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

The battery of samples being taken from him was exhaustive. Blood, tissue, urine and even saliva had been extracted by a steady stream of polite nurses.

Ansel sat at the end of yet another examination table and said to the young woman currently yanking his hair out by the root, "I'd like to speak with Dr. Rumsey."

The woman's tweezers stilled and she looked down at him, her dirty blond hair twisted into a tight, regulation bun. "I'll see if that's possible."

She yanked one last hair, stuffed it in a plastic bag with all the others, then left the room without saying another word.

He stood up, the paper he had been sitting on objecting to his departure with a loud crinkling sound. The cheap tile squares were cold on his bare feet as he paced across the tiny exam room, thinking.

The wait was not long before Dr. Rumsey knocked before walking in, and it struck Ansel as absurd. The man seemed concerned with disturbing his privacy after having been complicit in his abduction.

"Sergeant Babineaux, what can I do for you?"

"First," Ansel began. "I would like my shoes, unless you intend to draw blood from my feet."

"Of course." The doctor acquiesced. "My apologies, I'm afraid army nurses tend to follow instructions to the letter. What else?"

Ansel walked closer to the man, staring down at him to make his point. "I think we both would agree that I have cooperated fully with your requests, despite the fact that I could kill you with very little effort."

"Yes, I am quite aware of that Sergeant Babineaux," the doctor nodded. "Which makes your examination especially exhilarating. But," he sighed. "I think we would also agree that you would not do so, because you have your sister's welfare to consider."

"Which brings me to my second request." Ansel’s smile was amiable. "I want to see her. I want to be moved out of my cell and into the barracks housing my sister, and I assume the other patients you’re experimenting on."

Dr. Rumsey crossed his arms, hugging the chart he was carrying to his chest.

"I'll allow you to see your sister." The man raised a brow as he considered Ansel's request. "However, moving you into the residential quarters will have to be approved by General Hawkins."

"That sounds reasonable," Ansel nodded. His priority was seeing his sister, but the army had taught him a long time ago to ask for more than you wanted. "When can I see her?"

"I'll allow you to see her after dinner." The doctor set the chart down and examined his injured arm. "You haven't been experiencing any nausea after your surgery?"

"None." Ansel shook his head.

"Excellent," Dr. Rumsey smiled, satisfied with his progress. "Please, make sure you eat your dinner. I've ordered a high-calorie diet, which will help speed up the healing process. As for your sleeping arrangements, I'll let you know what the general decides."

Ansel was escorted back to his cell by armed guards. But as promised, he was retrieved at eight o'clock sharp and taken to the residents’ quarters.

His escorts led him down the long, dim halls of the brig, and he made sure to map the building in his mind. The hall came to a dead end and he knew that the hospital was to the right, but the soldiers turned left. They walked through a twisted maze but Ansel took in every detail, and then one of them was opening a door.

It was dark outside and he breathed in the fresh air, letting it fill his tired lungs. The sidewalks were increasingly empty as they traveled further into the older section of the base.

It was eerily quiet and the moon was all they had to light their way. Run-down buildings towered over them at the edge of the base, and he smiled to himself.

The general expected him to try and escape, but he wouldn't.
Not yet
. At the moment, Catherine was safe and his continued cooperation would be attributed to his desire to keep her that way.

The longer he waited, the more time Ansel would have to find a possible escape route and the more complacent his guards would become.

The soldiers had been told how dangerous he was, and so far they had been cautious when dealing with him. But over time, his guards would forget. They would become friendly with him, and he with them. Until one day, when their routine day became anything but routine when Ansel got Cat and led her off the base.

One of his guards stopped in front of an old barracks, saying, "Mrs. Miller is housed in the third room on the right."

As politely as possible, Ansel nodded, "Thank you, Corporal."

"Sergeant," the guy said with a tone of respect.

Ansel walked into the large room, taking a moment to look around. There was an old television surrounded by an even older set of rust-colored couches. Two faded green standard-issue carpets covered the concrete floor. One in front, and the other behind the decrepit couches.

A round table covered with wood laminate stood behind the couch. He glanced at it and was disturbed to find a child's coloring book along with a box of Crayons sitting on top of it.

The nine-year-old boy taken from Salt Lake City must be here. But when he saw that it was a princess coloring book, his blood ran cold. There were ten rooms along the wide hall, and he hoped to God they weren't all full.

Ansel walked to his sister's room and knocked on the door.

"Yes," she said, and he was stilled by the amount of relief that washed over him.

He turned the knob with his good hand, and stuck his head in the small room. "Cat?"

"Ansel!" She smiled, jumping off her bed. Cat started to hug him, but then she noticed his bandaged arm. "What did they do to you?"

She was angry, and scared.

"I'm fine."

He wrapped his right arm around her, and it was then that he saw the little girl laying on the bed, cowering behind a children's book.

"Who's this?" Ansel smiled at the girl, but she just peered over the top of the hardcover.
Cat gave him a warning look and then turned to the child, all smiles.

"This is my friend, Heidi, and we were just finishing our bedtime story. Heidi," Cat bent toward the girl, confiding, "this is my baby brother."

The girl looked at his six-foot frame and giggled, so Ansel played along. "I'm Catherine's
younger
brother, Ansel." He thrust out his hand. "Nice to meet you, Heidi."

The girl's tiny hand grabbed his, shaking it before pulling it back to her side. "Hello," she said, so softly that he could barely hear her.

"Well, I think that's enough reading for tonight," Cat said. "Do you want me to tuck you in?"

"No." Heidi pulled a stuffed animal from underneath the covers then glanced over at Ansel. "I can do it myself."

They waited for the little girl to drag herself off to bed. Her matching pink pajamas had colorful stars decorating the small shirt and pants. Heidi was so small, she had to reach up to grab the doorknob. She was struggling to pull the heavy door open, but they didn't help her.

"Goodnight," Cat said to her.

Ansel added, "Nice to meet you, Heidi."

"Goodnight." The little girl leaned back, using both of her hands along with her minuscule weight to close the door.

"Are you all right?" Ansel asked his sister the moment the door shut.

"Yes, but how is Dave? They hit him so hard." Cat started to tear up. "I'm so sorry I went to that appointment, Ansel. I was just so worried about the baby, and we've been trying for so long. I didn't occur to me that they knew—"

"It doesn't matter." And it didn't. "They would have found us eventually. And, I'm sorry, they took me before I could find out about Dave." Ansel tried to ease her fears. "But these people either kill you, or they don't. So, if they just hit him…he's fine."

Physically at least
.

"What about Gwen and Seneca? Are they alright?"

Seneca.
That hit him square in the chest.

"They escaped when I was…"
Killing a man
. "Fighting with the men that took me."

Cat walked up to him, apologizing, "I'm so sorry, Ansel."

He knew what she meant, but he said, "Gunshots heal."

"They shot you!" She glanced at his arm.

"Who's the little girl?" he asked, not wanting to talk about his wounds.

"Her name is Heidi Johnson," Cat explained. "She's from South Dakota. And all that I've been able to get out of her, is that 'her mommy put her to bed,’ and then she woke up in a car where the ‘bad man said her mommy was dead'."

"Fuck." They were cold-hearted bastards.

"She's only seven years old." Cat was shaking her head.

"What about the boy from Salt Lake City? Have you seen him?"

"He's here," Cat nodded. "But he doesn't like to have story time ‘with a girl’. So Kevin reads to him."

"Kevin who?"

"Kevin Kilgore from Wyoming," Cat sighed, sitting on the bed. "He was taken in the middle of the night in October.
October
, Ansel. Anyway…," She pushed away her despair at the possibility of being here that long. "Kevin is pretty sure he was drugged, because he doesn't remember a thing about that night. He just woke up here."

"So that's four. Any others?"

"A man and a woman, but they keep to themselves. And now, with you, they have seven lab rats." Cat looked at him for answers. "What are we going to do, Ansel?"

"You do
exactly
what they tell you to do," he ordered, for two reasons. First, because it would keep her safe, and second because the room might be bugged. "Once they get what they want, they’ll let us go," he lied.

But it made his sister feel better. He could see it in her eyes.

"I've asked to be moved over here,” he told her. “But the general has to approve the transfer."

"Where
are
you being held?" Cat asked, her face contorted with concern.

Ansel saw no point in lying to her. "The brig." Her mouth fell open and he cut her off, holding up his hand. "I'm fine." He had been held in a lot worse places. "They’re just taking extra precautions because of my military training."

A knock on the door startled them both. "Time's up, Sergeant Babineaux."

Cat put her hands on both his cheeks, so that he was forced to look her in the eye. "Please be careful, Ansel," she implored before hugging him around the neck.

The door swung opened and the larger of his two guards stood with his hand on his sidearm.

Ansel glanced back at Cat, promising, "I'll see you soon." Hoping it was true, and hoping also that it would be while they were escaping.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Win Caffrey sat in the desert mountains of Utah with nothing but his jacket and a sniper rifle to keep him from freezing his balls off.

He looked through his night vision scope, but he didn't see Gunner, who had gone on a reconnaissance survey of the Proving Grounds. Win rolled on his left side, pulling a rock out from under his stomach, and he couldn't help but notice how beautiful the stars were tonight. He stared at them in an unexpected moment of peace.

He just wished to God that he was alone. 

"So, what do you think of that woman, Seneca?" Drew asked, and Win sighed, not wanting to have the conversation. But Drew just kept talking. "'Cause I think she's the kind of girl that could be the mother of my children. And she's so damn pretty that you wouldn't mind spending the rest of your life trying to make more of 'em."

Drew chuckled, hitting him in the shoulder, which caused Win to have to readjust his sniper sight. His jaw pulsed with irritation, and he remembered to breathe through his nose.

"I'm gonna call her as soon as we get back to Seattle." Drew looked out over the harsh hills. "I wonder where she'll take me for dinner, because that’ll tell me a lot about how she feels about me.

“Like, if she takes me to a burger joint, I got my work cut out for me. But if it’s that romantic restaurant at the top of the space needle,” Drew held up his hand to show how high. “Then I'll know she's into me. What do you think?"

"I think you're an idiot." Win shook his head, not sure how to break it to the kid.

"You know, Win," Drew sounded irritated and Win rolled his eyes, wishing he had kept his big mouth shut. "You're an asshole."

"So, you've told me. Repeatedly."

"No." Drew was really pissed, which was so rare that it piqued Win's interest. "I mean it, you're a grade A asshole. Like, to
everyone
you meet."

"Really?" Win sat up and looked at Drew, raising a brow. "To
everyone
I meet?"

"Yeah, everyone." Drew yanked a piece of yellow grass out by the roots, then threw it on the ground as he turned to face him. "It's like, you have this huge fucking chip on your shoulder," he snapped, using his hands to show Win just how big the chip was.

Win didn't need to hear this shit. He laid back down.

But Drew wasn’t finished. "You either treat people like they don't matter to you, or like you’re going to rip their head off."

"Keep your fucking voice down," Win growled. "Or I
will
rip your head off."

"Seriously." Drew kept it up, quieter. "Is there anyone,
anyone
you give a shit about? Because I've seen the
long
line of women you've been through, and I know you don't give a damn about them."

He was getting mad.

"And us. Gunner, Ansel and me," Drew scoffed. "You treat your own goddamn team like we're a…" He threw his hand up, searching for the right word. "Fucking annoyance."

That wasn't fair. He was risking his life for one of those 'fucking annoyances'.

"Were you ever nice to people or were you just born this way?" Drew kept at him.

Win's heart was gaining speed and he tried to breathe, but he could feel himself entering the red zone. "You should stop talk—"

"Hell, you probably didn't even love your own moth—"

Win put Drew on his back, tightening his hand around Drew's throat, unsure if he could stop himself from killing his best friend.

"I loved my mother very much." Win was cold as he looked into his Drew's eyes, seeing only fear. "And if you know what's good for you, you'll never talk about her again."

Win let go of his friend's neck then laid back down, feeling like a piece of shit. Drew was a good guy. A really good guy. And he was absolutely right, Win was an asshole. A grade A asshole, who was only good at killing and fucking up people's lives. So he kept his distance.

From everyone.

He looked through his scope, while Drew gasped and coughed on all fours. They didn't talk for a long time. Just sat there with a frigid wind whipping across the ridge. Drew wisely sat out of Win's reach.

"Fucking hell, man," Drew finally said. "You have some serious issues, Win, and you gotta stop taking it out on other people.

“Seriously, man. You're a good person, but if you ever want to have a relationship with a woman…Hell, with anyone." Drew was shaking his head. "And kids. Damn, you
cannot
have kids. Like
ever
. Unless you get some heavy duty counseling, so you can drop that weight you've been carrying. Whatever it might be."      

He had been seeing a therapist. It wasn't helping.

"And you know I'm always here, brother," Drew said, after Win had almost killed him. "If you ever need me."

It was a kind offer and Win knew he should feel something, but all he felt was numb. "Gunner's heading back."

"Seriously," Drew gave a sigh of frustration. "You're just gonna talk about the mission?"

"That's why we're here." Win sat up, breaking down his weapon, now that it wasn't needed to protect Gunner.

"And I thought we were here out of friendship for Ansel."

Win wasn't sure he knew what friendship meant. He knew he respected Ansel. Would take a bullet for the man, but would they hang out on the weekend?
No.
The guy was an asshole.

Gunner slithered over the ridge, then sat up when he knew he was out of sight of the base. "You two okay?"

Drew looked at Win, who stared back.

"Fucking peachy," Drew said, his bright smile lighting up in the dark. "What’d ya see?"

"Well, the research facilities are extremely well guarded. Chemical, biologicals, and equipment are all locked down tight. But," Gunner grinned, "the other buildings are less secure. Including several old barracks that seem to be housing ten or so civilians. These barracks are being lightly guarded, and are on an isolated part of the base. My bet is that people with the anomaly are being held there."

"If I were the general," Win speculated, "I wouldn't keep Ansel with the rest of them. I'd keep him in the brig."

Gunner agreed, nodding. "I hadn’t thought of that. We should be able to find the original blueprints somewhere online, and I bet the brig is the one thing that has never been changed."

"Well," Drew began, "here's the problem. Who do we get first when we go in? Let's say we get Ansel. I doubt they're keepin' a pregnant woman in the brig, which leaves us taking a second location at the barracks. This doubles our risk of getting caught or killed. So our choices are to get Ansel out," Drew held up one finger as he counted, "get Catherine out, or get them both. And you really think Ansel is gonna leave his sister in there?"

"Maybe," Gunner thought out loud, "they’re not going to kill his sister. And if we got Ansel out first, he would be able to help us get her out later."

"They might not kill her." Win zipped up his rifle in the padded, soft case. "But they might kill the baby."

"No they won't," Drew disputed his logic. "They'll want that baby alive, because it could be born with the anomaly."

Win shook his head, frustrated that Drew constantly missed the point. "What toll do you think weeks of research is gonna have on a fetus?"

"Oh." Drew finally caught on. "You think she might miscarry?"

"That, or they’ll try and enhance the baby in utero."

"Fuck." Drew looked appalled.

"Well, we better get her out before they have a chance to do either." Gunner was walking toward their vehicle. "You talk about anything else while I was gone?"

"My date with Seneca Reed." Drew's anticipation was palpable.

Win told him the truth. "You’re never going out with Seneca."

"Why the hell not?"

Win sighed. "She's Ansel's," he told the kid, because he could be kind too.