Dead World 2, page 17
A wave of scorching heat followed the blast. Morgan tried to put his hands up to protect his head, but he was having trouble moving. The cacophonous sound came next, thundering in his cranium, rattling his spinal column.
He looked up in time to see two people running out the door screaming. They were on fire, their skin melting in waxy drips onto the floor. The blood rushing through his veins was deafening, and the sound of the blast had taken care of the rest of his senses.
Morgan forced himself to sit up. It took a lot of effort. His arms didn't want to cooperate. He scooted, using one leg to get over to the wall, then used it for leverage to stand.
It hurt to breathe. Black smoke billowed out of the gaping hole where the door to bay 32 once stood. Morgan limped to the opening and tried to see inside. It was impossible. The thick angry cloud swallowed everything around it. If anyone was left inside, they were as good as dead.
A commotion started behind him. Sensing it, Morgan turned, expecting to see the sweepers. Instead, he saw Roark Montgomery pointing directly at him. "Arrest that man," he shouted over the chaos.
Pete and another man he'd passed during rounds stepped forward and grabbed him.
"What's going on?" Morgan struggled to break their grip.
Pete refused to meet his eyes, and his young face remained downcast and flushed. "Don't make this any harder than it already is," he whispered.
They slipped restraints on Morgan's wrists and brought him forward to face Roark. The man was smiling. Morgan had the sudden urge to kick his teeth down his throat.
"What am I being arrested for?"
Roark smirked. "Why, sabotage, of course."
"Sabotage?" Morgan snorted. "You're out of your mind. I didn't sabotage anything. I was walking toward the room when a bomb went off."
"That's for the Republic of New Mexico to decide. Put him in the transport."
Morgan was half dragged and half carried outside before being shoved into Roark's awaiting transport. He grunted as he hit the floor. "This isn't right Pete and you know it. I didn't blow anything up."
Pete looked around to make sure Roark wasn't near enough to hear. "Then what were you doing over there?"
"Looking for Dr. Finley."
"Who's that?" Pete asked.
"Someone who's supposed to be part of the cloning operation, but as far as I can tell, he doesn't exist. And now I know why," he said.
Morgan’s head dropped back onto the hard transport floor. He'd been so stupid. The whole thing had been staged. Sarah and Joshua had never been up for cloning. It was a ruse. A ruse to get him to leave Nuria. To leave Gina. And it had worked.
Pain blossomed in his chest as he realized how vulnerable she was, how alone. If anything happened to her, he'd never forgive himself.
Roark walked up with the man who'd interviewed Morgan upon his arrival. From the familiar way they were talking, they'd known each other for a while.
Pete glanced at both men, then focused on the gates of the complex and frowned. "Shouldn't we call the authorities?" He looked like the wide-eyed innocent he was.
"Leave that to me," Roark said.
"But it's procedure when anything happens here at the lab." He pulled out a small screen and pressed a button. "See." Pete held the screen up to their faces. "It's under section fifteen."
Morgan saw the look exchanged between Roark and the man he'd been talking to when he walked up. Fear shook him. If Pete didn't stop this line of questioning his life would be in danger. Maybe it was already too late.
"Roark's taking me straight to the detention center in Taos. Isn't that right, Montgomery?" Morgan glared at the politician.
"Where else would I be taking you?" He stared at the young guard contemptuously.
Pete looked at Morgan. He wasn't sure whom to believe. Morgan gave him a brisk nod. "Thanks for everything, Pete. It was nice working with you. Please tell the Eye of God it was fun while it lasted."
"You sure?" Pete asked, clearly torn.
"Yeah, you better get back inside where Coleman can see you."
Pete's eyes widened as the warning Morgan sent him finally sank in. "Right." He nodded. "Good luck." He sprinted back to the building before the man with Roark could stop him.
"You were so easy," Roark said. "I'm really surprised you came running when you saw those old vid-clips of your dead wife and child. Did you really think they were going to be cloned?"
"Obviously, or I wouldn't be here." Morgan rolled until he could sit up. "I do have one question for you."
"What's that?"
"What did you hope to gain?" he asked.
"Isn't that obvious?" Roark asked.
Morgan shook his head. "No." He'd thought of many possible outcomes, but none seemed worth the trouble Roark had gone to this time.
Roark smiled and the act chilled Morgan to the bone. It was the first time he nearly broke eye contact with another man. "The destruction of the two people who've caused me more trouble than either of you is worth."
"What have you done to Gina?"
Roark laughed. "Nothing. Yet."
"What in the hell does that mean?" Morgan nearly choked on his anger.
"I've been keeping her busy while I chip away at her impending career. I daresay she won't be accepted by the Nurian sheriff's department or the new tactical team by the time I finish with her. Unless of course, you make a habit of hiring murderers."
Morgan flinched. What had Roark been doing to Gina while he'd been here chasing the past? He could only imagine what she'd had to endure. Yet she'd said nothing. And he'd only made it harder by leaving her.
"Where are you taking me?" He wondered if Roark would give him a straight answer.
"Someplace that will have you begging for death before I'm through." Roark turned to the man who'd escorted him out. "Give me," he glanced at his watch, "a two-hour head start, then make the announcement."
The man nodded and smirked at Morgan. "I'll be here if you need any help," he said with unbridled glee.
Roark turned back to Morgan. "Settle in. We have a long ride ahead of us," he said, then shut the door in Morgan's face.
Red sat in the burgundy velvet chair that was so big she could swing her legs beneath her. It had taken an hour, but she'd finally stopped crying.
Her grandfather's shirt was wrinkled where she'd been gripping it, but he didn't seem to mind. He'd ordered a new pair of boots to be brought to her and now sat back behind his desk, worry clearly written on his weathered face.
"Now tell me what has happened?" he asked.
"You haven't heard?" Red looked up in surprise.
"Heard what?" he asked.
This was worse than she thought. Red hated to be the one to break the bad news to her grandfather. "I don't know where to begin."
He smiled. "I've always found the beginning to be a nice place to start." Robert Santiago winked at her.
She sighed. "I'm so sorry about everything. I tried. I tried so hard to fit in at Nuria. But my best was never good enough."
"I'm sure it's not as bad as you think," he said softly.
Red's gaze met his. "It's worse. You already know about the complaint filed against me for brutality."
Her grandfather sobered. "Yes, that's a very serious charge." His vidcom beeped. He pressed a button. "Hold all my calls," he said.
She waited for him to disconnect, then continued. "I didn't do it. I'm being set up."
"Roark?" The name came out like a curse.
"He's had it out for me ever since I shot him."
He grimaced. "Have you found any proof since we last spoke?" He pushed synth-papers around, straightening already neat piles.
Red knew he needed something to do with his hands. She gripped the arms of the chair and pushed herself up, tucking a leg beneath her. "None. It's just a gut feeling. The whole situation smells like a professional job."
"You know what I think of gut feelings," he said.
She did. Robert Santiago was a man of science and a follower of the law. He wanted solid proof, not suppositions. He didn't believe in chasing feelings. He'd told her time and again they were misleading, especially when it came to the job.
"I know, Grandpa, but too many strange things have been happening to be mere coincidence." She sat back and the cushions cradled her.
"Such as?"
Red hadn't wanted to tell him about the Unknown and the wild accusation that he made against her, but she didn't have a choice. Maybe her grandpa would be able to give her advice, but he couldn't do that without all the facts.
"A few days ago, a man came into town. I'd never seen him before. He found me when I was eating a late lunch. He started screaming about me leaving him. He accused me of forgetting him. As if we'd had a relationship."
He frowned. "Did you know this man?"
"No. That's just it. He was a stranger. To make matters worse, the man turned up dead the next day. Jim Thornton discovered he was an Unknown during dissection. I've encountered a lot of Unknowns over the years, but I'd never seen that man before in my life."
“Odd,” he said.
"Then yesterday on my way to lunch, I was called into an alley. You know what happened next."
"I still can't believe that you went," he said admonishingly. "I trained you better than that."
"It was stupid. I knew it at the time, but I wasn't expecting to be ambushed and I really did think my backup would show at any moment." She mentally kicked herself again for the rookie mistake.
He nodded. "I still don't understand why he did that. It was risky. He could've been easily caught in his own trap, which tells me he was desperate."
"I agree," Red said. "But there's more."
"I'm not sure my heart can take much more." He pressed a hand to his chest and rubbed. She started to rise from her seat, but he waved her back. "I'm fine. Please continue."
Red reluctantly kept her seat. "The same guy ended up dead on my back doorstep this morning. There was blood everywhere. I slipped and nearly fell in it."
Robert Santiago's brown eyes widened. "This isn't good, special one. How was he killed?"
"His throat was slit just like the first guy. Although the first guy was also shot."
"I take it you think it's the work of the same killer or killers?"
"Absolutely." She nodded. "That's why I believe I'm being set up. The bodies have been placed in areas I frequent. Most people in town think I'm a murderer."
He propped his elbows onto his desk. "What does Morgan have to say about all this?" he asked.
Red felt her face heat and her gaze dropped to her hands.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Morgan needed to take care of some personal business. He took off several weeks ago. He left me in charge until he gets back." And she'd done a damn fine job of running Nuria into the ground.
"Where is he? Surely the business can't be as important as what's been happening in Nuria."
Red couldn't tell him. She wanted to, but how could she explain that Morgan had gone after his wife and child, when it was hard for her to accept. “Take my word for it, it was important."
"Why don't you let me decide what is and is not important." She shifted in her seat under his regard. "I'd rather not talk about it."
"I thought you two were getting along," he said.
"We were. We are. It's just that a lot has been happening lately. He has stuff he needs to take care of. I had to let him handle things on his own,” she said. “I thought while he was away things would be the same in town. But I don't fit in at Nuria any better than I did here. I'm starting to think I made a mistake."
"Do you love him?" he asked.
"Yes, I love him." Of that Red had no doubt
The viewer activated in her grandfather's office. They both turned to face the screen as it glowed to life.
"What now?" he muttered at the interruption.
"We interrupt your workday for this important announcement," the broadcaster said. "A bomb has been detonated at the Santa Fe Cloning Lab Corporation. Five people have been killed and several others injured. The prototype for Project Scarlet is among the many items destroyed. The on-site investigators are calling the act sabotage."
Red's heart began to pound in her chest, threatening to bruise her. Please let him be all right and not involved. A picture of Morgan flashed on the screen and she gasped.
"Morgan Hunter has been detained in connection with the bombing. Sources confirm that he was a security guard for the company. His previous employment lists him as the former sheriff of Nuria in the Republic of Arizona. He's been taken in for questioning."
"No! They're wrong!" she shouted.
Morgan wasn't a murderer. That thought was quickly followed by a second realization. He was alive. Morgan was alive. Her relief was short-lived as the severity of the situation sank in.
"They can't just take him away. Grandpa, shouldn't IPTT be the ones questioning him?"
"I thought you said Morgan left on personal business. What was he doing at the Santa Fe Cloning Lab? What aren't you telling me?" He demanded as his sharp brown eyes latched onto her face.
"I've told you everything."
"Gina? Time is of the essence. I need to know the truth if I'm to help Morgan."
She looked at him, silently pleading with him to believe her. He was frowning and shaking his head as he stared at the screen.
"Morgan would never hurt anyone in order to destroy the lab. I know he wouldn't. He's a good man." But even as Red said the words, she remembered what Morgan had told her before he left.
He would do whatever it took to prevent the Santa Fe Cloning Lab from destroying the memory of his dead wife and child. And from the looks of it, he'd made good on his promise.
Red stared in horror as Morgan's picture rotated on the screen. The image was from his I.D. at the Santa Fe Cloning Lab. Dark circles marred his tired amber eyes. A day's growth of hair covered his chin. He looked so different, so lost.
The announcer spoke again. "We repeat. The former sheriff of Nuria, Morgan Hunter is suspected of blowing up a portion of the Santa Fe Cloning Lab today, destroying what could've been a revolutionary vaccine for mankind. No reason for the sabotage has been given. He is currently being held in an interim facility in Taos for questioning, but will be moved soon. Standard admission tests have detected genetic anomalies in his blood. Stay tuned for more information."
The room spun as Red fought to get air into her lungs. Her grandfather came around his desk and shoved her head between her knees. "Breathe, special one."
"This can't be happening. It can't be real. What am I going to do?" she gasped. "I have to see Morgan. I have to find out what happened. There's no way it went down like they said."
Robert Santiago crouched next to the chair until they were nearly at eye level. "I don't think that's going to be possible. We don't even know who's holding him. Besides, I think it's best you stay far away from him, Gina. They've already started testing his blood. Soon they'll discover how different it really is, and then he'll be beyond our help."
Her head jerked up and pain infused her. She couldn't let that happen. Red didn't know what she was going to do, but she couldn't let them use Morgan like a lab experiment. "I know who's holding him. Roark." Her grandfather pushed her shoulders back down, encouraging her to slow her breathing. "It has to be him. He's behind everything."
"You don't know that for sure," he said patiently.
"But you could find out for me, Grandpa. You could use your contacts. It's important. I really need to see him. Make sure that he's okay. Then I'll figure out a way to get him out of there."
Robert sobered. "If he's guilty of the crimes they say, there will be nothing you can do."
"I realize that, but he's not guilty. I know he's not." Red's heart squeezed as she prayed that was the case. What was she going to do if it turned out that Morgan was behind the sabotage? They'd put him in detention for the rest of his life, if they didn't decide to execute him.
If he'd killed those people and destroyed that vaccine, then execution was a good possibility, since its destruction would cost the lives of hundreds of thousands.
He frowned, causing the thick lines on his face to nearly swallow up his brown eyes. "I'll see what I can do. I hope that he's worth it."
"He is." She rubbed her tired eyes.
Robert Santiago rose and walked behind his desk. He pressed a button on his vidcom and called Samuel Duncan, the leader of the Republic of Missouri.
"Hello, Sam, how's it going?" he asked.
"It was quiet and calm until that announcement."
Robert grunted in agreement.
"Listen, Bob, you've never been good at dancing around a subject," Sam said. "What can I do for you?"
Her grandfather laughed. "You know me too well." His smile faded as he looked at the man. "I have a favor to ask of you."
"Shoot," Sam said.
"My granddaughter needs to get in to see the man who was arrested today for that bombing."
Sam sucked air sharply through his lips. "Not sure that's going to be possible. He's due to be questioned."
"So he's been delivered to your republic?" Robert asked.
"I didn't say that," Sam said.
"Yes, you did." Robert grinned.
"Okay, maybe I sent orders for him to be brought here, but he isn't here yet. He's being processed at the Taos detention center."
"The arrest happened pretty fast, don't you think? Not really time for a proper investigation."
Sam rubbed his chin. "Yes, we really lucked out. An investigation could've taken months or even years, if he hadn't been spotted on scene."
"That is lucky, but still circumstantial. Don't you think? He is a security guard there after all." Robert sat forward. "Who was the brave soul who caught him?"
"Wouldn't you know, it was Roark Montgomery. The damn glory hound. Has to have his face splashed on all the viewers." Sam shook his head in disgust.
Red gasped. Her grandfather gave her a sharp look and shook his head in warning.
"You may want to watch your back, Sam," he said.
