Revolution (13 page)

    “Where did you get this!” Campion shouted in Rayne’s face, as she grabbed him by his shirt collar and dragged him roughly to his feet.

    Peter was taken off balance by her masculine aggression, which he regarded as contrary to her feminine face and shape.

    “Get your hands off me!” Rayne shouted as his uneasiness turned to rage. He used a quick maneuver to knock the stranger’s arms away and stepped out of reach.

    “You’re fucking dead!” the woman yelled.

    She lunged at Rayne, seized his shoulders, and slammed him against the wall. The landscape picture, which Rayne didn’t recognize, slipped from its perch and fell to the floor. The madwoman locked her hands around his throat and Rayne instinctively wound up with his right arm and punched her hard in the stomach. She bent over from the force of the blow, releasing her grip, but she recovered and lunged back toward him. Rayne prepared to meet her charge and was surprised when the barbarian woman stopped in mid-air as a pair of arms grabbed her from behind.

     “Jane! Leave him alone! We have to question him!” Connelly shouted into the madwoman’s left ear, grabbing her in a bear hug. The security guard had also stepped near the fray, but he appeared to be too apprehensive to join it.

    “Martin Prince was my friend,” Campion growled, breaking Connelly’s grip and lunging toward Rayne again. This time, Rayne’s defensive maneuvers were useless as the enraged woman’s hands locked tightly around his throat. He fought to grab hold of her arms and push them away, but the corded muscles beneath the suit jacket were unrelenting.

    “Help me you fool! She’s going to kill him!” Peter heard a voice exclaim as if from very far away.

    The next thing he knew, he could breathe again and the madwoman had been pulled off him. She continued to struggle while Connelly and the security guard held her by her arms. Rayne thought she looked as if she was contemplating fighting them before starting to breathe deeply as if to calm down.

    “No, you’re right,” Campion said, between breaths. “We have to question him. Let me go.”

    Connelly let go of her left arm and the security guard followed Connelly’s lead by releasing her right. Rayne watched the tall, dark-haired woman in the black suit breathe heavily as she tried to compose herself. He couldn’t get over her sheer ferocity. He had never seen such rage exhibited by either gender. The barbarian woman stepped back, but he prepared himself for another assault anyway. Stepping away from the wall, he raised his fists.

    “You’re right. We have to go by the book,” Campion growled, low and gutturally, like a dog upon viewing a stranger. She continued to back off as if mere proximity to Rayne would cause her to lose control again.

    “Take him to the basement,” Jane instructed between deep breaths. “We’ll interrogate him there.”

    Rayne glanced to his left and saw four black-suited men enter the room.

    “You’re coming with us,” one of them said, ominously.

    “Where are you taking me?” Rayne asked without dropping his fists from a defensive posture.

    “Put your hands behind your back and don’t put up a fight,” the security guard said. “Otherwise, things will go badly for you.”

    Rayne watched with resignation as the newcomers in the black suits assembled around him. He hardly noticed as Connelly and the madwoman slipped silently away.

    “The odds are hardly fair, gentlemen,” Rayne muttered as he turned, faced the wall, and placed his hands behind his back. He knew that resistance at this moment was futile. He would bide his time until a better opportunity presented itself.

    The guards locked handcuffs on his wrists and turned him around roughly. His sight suddenly went black as one of them wrapped a blindfold around his head.

    “Is this really necessary?” Rayne asked as he was led across the room.

    “Shut the fuck up,” one of the faceless guards replied.

Chapter 11

    The guards led Rayne down several long corridors and he had no choice but to follow. They went right, left, and straight until he felt lost in an endless maze. Finally, they sat him down in an uncomfortable chair and ripped off the blindfold.

Peter squinted against a bright light shining in his face. Glancing around, he saw he was in a bare room with only a single spotlight in the corner, which was focused on him. He heard a scraping noise behind him and turned to see the muscular madwoman enter the room dragging a chair behind her.

    “Cuff him to the chair,” Campion growled, setting her chair in front of the prisoner with the light behind her so her outline was silhouetted.

    The bright light outlined the hard edges of her muscular shoulders, which contrasted with the soft curves of her hips.

    Peter felt one of the guards fiddling with his cuffs and the next thing he knew, his wrists were fastened securely to the back of the chair.

    “You’re a bunch of sweethearts,” Peter said.

    “You’ll speak only after you’re asked a question,” Campion commanded.

    Peter tried to focus on her eyes, but he could only see her silhouette in front of the spotlight. 

    “Go see if Connelly needs any help with the equipment,” Campion snapped at one of the security guards standing behind Peter.

    “Yes, sir,” the guard replied and left the room.

   
Equipment
?

    Panic flooded his system.

   
What kind of equipment
?
Surely, these thugs don’t intend to torture me
?

    “We’re going to conduct a simple test,” Campion explained in a flat tone. “If you answer the questions honestly, there won’t be a problem.”

    “How are you supposed to know if I’m answering honestly or-”

    “Shut up,” Campion interjected. “I told you that you will speak only after being asked a question. If you pass the test, you can talk all you want. But first, you must pass the test.”

   
Test? What is this lunatic talking about
? 

    Rayne could feel his heart hammering in his chest and his veins pounding in his head when he heard the noise of creaking wheels behind him.

   
Oh, no. This isn’t happening
.
They’re not bringing in some kind of torture device…

    The unknown object was wheeled toward him.

    “I need you to look straight ahead,” Campion instructed. “If you don’t comply voluntarily, you will be forced to comply.”

   Rayne didn’t see that he had any choice. He knew there were at least four guards standing in the room behind him and his hands were cuffed securely to a chair behind his back.

He stared at Campion’s silhouette and tried to focus on her in order to avoid the direct glare of the spotlight. He was glad that her muscular shoulders blocked a good portion of the light, which would have otherwise shone directly into his eyes.

Fear gripped his mind like a talon as he heard the unknown machine wheeled over and placed on his right-hand side. He couldn’t help turning and glancing down at it an effort to find out what it was.

    “Don’t bother looking at it,” Campion said. “It’s just a lie detector. We’re not going to hook you up to a car battery and watch you squirm. That’s what the government does.”

    “It’s just a lie detector?” Peter asked, relieved.

    “That’s it. Nothing to worry about. Now, face forward, answer the questions honestly, and you’ll have no worries,” Campion said. “It will take a few seconds to hook up the machine.”

    Rayne couldn’t be sure if they were lying to him or not as they hooked up a number of wires and electrodes to his arms.

   
Could this be a car battery and they’re going to zap me with thousands of volts of electricity?

    “Stop looking so scared,” Campion said. “I told you it’s just a lie detector.” Her silhouetted head turned toward the man setting up the machine. Rayne noticed that her straight black hair fell a few inches short of her muscular shoulders. “Tell him, Rick.”

    “It’s just a lie detector,” a familiar voice spoke from his right.

    Rayne realized it was Connelly, the gray-haired Exec he had met in the spacious office. He relaxed somewhat, but not completely. He still couldn’t be sure what was happening.

   
Why do they need to hook me up to a lie detector
?

    “I know what you’re thinking,” Campion said. “Why do we have to hook you up to a lie detector, right?”

    Rayne found it extremely unsettling that Campion had just spoken what was in his mind a moment ago.

    “There’s a very simple reason for it. We have to find out if you can be trusted. Our organization has many enemies,” Campion stated.

    “What exactly is your organization?” Rayne asked.

    “We’ll get to that after you’ve passed the test. If you pass the test,” Campion replied, emphasizing the word “if”.

    “Great”, Peter said.

    “Now shut up and get ready for the first question. Are you ready?” Campion asked.

    “Yeah, I guess so.”

    “Rick, are we ready?” Campion turned toward Connelly, who was still standing next to the machine.

    “We’re all set,” Connelly said.

    “Good. Then please state your name, address, social security number, telephone number, and any other personal information you can think of,” Campion said.

    “Okay. That’s easy enough. My name’s Peter Rayne and I live at 422 Carleton Ave in the city. I don’t have a telephone number because I don’t have a phone. My social security number is 018-62-6657.”

    Rayne listened anxiously as the machine made a noise like paper being run through a printer.  He saw Campion’s silhouetted head glance over at Connelly.

    “He’s telling the truth,” Connelly said.

    “Good. That’s a good start,” Campion said, leaning forward in her chair and resting her muscular forearms on her knees. “What are you doing here at the Hovercrafts International building?”

    “Like I told you before, I’m here to return your property to you.”

    Again, he heard the sound of the machine at work. Campion glanced over at Connelly.

    “He’s lying,” Connelly said.

    “Now, this is not good,” Campion said, sighing as if she were very disappointed. “I’ll give you another chance to make good. If not, we’re going to work you over. Got it?”

    “All right, give me a second. I’ve been telling you that for so long, I’m starting believe it myself,” Peter said, as he felt his mind racing with panic.

   
Isn’t that the reason I’m here? To return the pocket computer?
I told this to the security guard and Connelly. But does that make it the truth? No, it doesn’t. The real reason I’m here is the mystery.

    “I’m here to find out what’s going on,” Rayne said. “A lot of strange things have happened to me lately. I want to find out what they all mean and how I can get a handle on it. None of this makes any sense to me.”

    The machine spoke in its scratching mechanical voice.

    “He’s telling the truth,” Connelly said.

    “The truth?” Campion repeated. “How can that be the truth? Think about what you’re saying, Mr. Rayne. Why are you really here? Were you sent here by government agents?”

    “No, I told you I’m here to find out what’s been going on in my life,” Peter said. “First, I’m eating lunch with my friends and a travel agency blows up. Next, I’m walking home with my friends and we run into a bunch of protesters. The next thing I know, my best friend, Henry, has hitched a ride in a limousine with some women. The limo drives to the head of the parade and I watch the back window roll down. Then, I see my friend point a gun out the window and start firing at the front of the parade. You must have seen the footage during the live execution yesterday?”

    “No, I didn’t,” Campion lied.

    “Someone was forcing my friend, Henry, to shoot toward the front of the crowd. I don’t know if it was drugs-or pain-or what made him do it, but I know someone was making him do it,” Rayne said. “Whoever was forcing him to shoot wanted Prince dead. I don’t know why. One of the reasons I came here was to find out why Prince is dead and why my friend was set up for it.”

    Again, the machine did its mechanical dance. Campion glanced over at Connelly. Rayne followed her glance and saw Connelly give her a brief nod.

    “Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. What happened after your friend shot Martin Prince?” Jane asked.