Michael Vey 9, page 5
She was looking at herself in the mirror when there was a buzz at the door.
“Come in,” she said.
The door opened. A man wearing a dress uniform stood in the doorway. She was surprised to see the guard all dressed up.
“Are you ready, señorita?”
“Yes.” She walked to the door.
“You look lovely this evening.”
“Thank you.”
As she walked out into the hallway, she saw there were actually two guards—the one in formal attire at her side, the other in the regular Chasqui guard uniform, which was identical to the traditional Elgen uniform except for a purple belt and the Chasqui patch.
They walked about fifty yards through two separate doorways, then took a turn into a part of the compound where she had never been. The entrance to the room was decorated with gilded-framed paintings and tapestries on the wall, thick carpets, and chandeliers. She guessed that the room had been built for entertaining dignitaries.
Two soldiers opened the intricately carved wood doors to a luxurious candlelit dining room.
“Taylor!”
Taylor turned around. Tara was running up behind her, also dressed in a gown. The two sisters embraced.
“Are you okay?” Taylor asked.
“I am now,” she said. She leaned back. “How did they capture you?”
“They didn’t. I surrendered. For you.”
Tears welled up in Tara’s eyes. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Of course I should. How have they been treating you?”
Amash had warned Tara that he would turn on the RESAT and torture both her and Taylor if she said, or even implied, anything negative at all.
“It’s been… fine.”
“The rooms are a lot nicer than the ones Hatch kept us in.”
Tara just forced a smile. Since her arrival she’d been kept in a RESAT vest in a bat- and guano-filled cave. She wondered why Taylor hadn’t seen that when they’d touched.
Amash walked up to them, his eyes darting back and forth between them.
“Ladies, you look lovely this evening. It’s good to see the two of you together again.”
“It’s good to be together,” Taylor said.
“Thank you,” Tara said, doing her best to conceal her contempt for him.
“You’re welcome,” Amash said. “I’m sure you’re both hungry. We have an amazing celebratory meal planned for this evening—a seventeen-course meal, in fact.”
Despite her pain, Tara’s mouth watered. She had been fed almost nothing during her confinement.
“Come in, please. Let’s dine.”
The twins followed him into the dining room. The room was similar to Hatch’s dining room in Tuvalu, with stained wood paneling and brass and crystal chandeliers. The table was long and spread with a cream-colored linen cloth, and set with fine blue-and-white Delft porcelain and polished sterling silverware. Such fineness seemed out of place in the jungle. But even in the remote wilderness, Hatch had always found a way to surround himself with the luxuries of life. Always.
Amash walked to the front of the room. In addition to the waiters and guards, Jack and two other men were standing behind the table. One was in a military dress uniform; the other wore a white floor-length robe with a white cap.
Amash tapped a spoon against a wineglass to get everyone’s attention. “Welcome, my friends. I’m pleased that you’ve joined me this evening, especially our newest guest, Miss Taylor Ridley.” He turned to the men next to him. “Be assured, gentlemen, you are not seeing double; these beautiful young ladies are twins.”
All the men, except for Jack, laughed.
“Now for the seating arrangements.” He turned to the women. “I’m sure you have much to catch up on, so I’ll let you two sit next to each other in those two seats,” he said, pointing. “Jack, you sit right there, across from Taylor.”
“Yes, sir.” Jack sat down, looking into Taylor’s eyes as he did. Tara wouldn’t look at him, afraid that she might reveal her true feelings.
“Introductions are in order. To my right is Maxwell Neilsen. He is the chief of guards.”
“PizzaMax,” Taylor whispered to Tara. Tara giggled.
Amash’s brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”
“Nothing,” Taylor said. “Sorry.”
“To my left is Dr. Raman, our head scientist.”
The doctor bowed slightly. “It is my pleasure,” he said with a heavy accent.
“Everyone, please sit.” After everyone had taken their seats, Amash continued. “Now on to our present business. To begin, our wines today, compliments of the former Dr. C. J. Hatch, are a Mouton Rothschild 1955, acquired, no doubt, at auction. Someone described its flavor as a celestial blend of mint, leather, and lead pencil, which I recognize is, at the least, a very ironic description.
“For a white wine we have a 2009 Domaine de la Romanee-Conti Montrachet Grand Cru—a satiny citrus-and-honey-noted chardonnay. Dr. Hatch acquired an entire case of this delightful wine at twenty-five hundred dollars a bottle, which might sound a bit excessive but was a shrewd investment, as they are now valued at four times that amount. There were many things about the former leader to dislike, but his expertise in selecting spirits was not one of them.”
At that, he gave a subtle command, and servers holding bottles of wine made their way around the table.
“I’ll have the red,” Taylor said, holding out her glass.
Tara said, “Me too.”
“Too fruity for me,” Jack said. “I’ll have the white.”
“Maybe you should try something yellow,” Tara said, biting back her anger. She furtively glanced over at Amash, afraid that he might have heard her, but he appeared distracted, comparing wines with the scientist.
As Jack took a sip of wine, he slipped off a shoe, reached his foot across the table, and touched Taylor on her calf. Taylor continued to act like she was in conversation with Tara as Jack thought to her.
This is the plan. When I spill my wine, reboot everyone in the room; then have Tara make herself look like Amash and make Amash look like her. Scratch your nose if you understand.
Taylor casually reached up and scratched her nose. Then she added into her conversation, “Tara, be ready.”
Good luck, Jack thought, then slipped his shoe back on.
A couple of minutes later a man wearing a chef’s smock and hat walked into the room and whispered into Amash’s ear. Amash nodded, then said, “Gracias.” Then, as the chef walked back to the kitchen, Amash again tapped his spoon against his glass.
“The chef’s assistant has just informed me that dinner is ready. But, before we eat, let me offer a little explanation about our meal today.
“Our chef has joined us from the famous restaurant Central in Miraflores, Lima. I’m not boasting when I say it is considered the best restaurant in South America, and one of the top Michelin restaurants in the world. Or maybe I am boasting, but I’m not exaggerating. Either way, you are in for a real treat.
“I’m not exaggerating either when I say this is a seventeen-course meal. Yes, it might sound a bit excessive, but today is a special day after all, the reuniting of sisters in a cause we love more than we can say.
“We’ll begin our culinary adventure with scallops and pepino melon, with Charapita pepper. This will be followed by sea bass and clams on quinoa leaf, squash and shrimp, and then duck and squid. I guarantee you have never had the pleasure of such a culinary adventure before.
“I know you have a bit of a sweet tooth, Taylor. So, for you, we have four kinds of dessert, including a cacao mousse, a sort of clay in coca leaves in shaved-ice jelly, and, the most interesting of the dolce offerings, huamp gel, which are small, translucent balls of algae.
“So, before we begin, let us raise our glasses to our newest compatriot, Taylor Ridley.” He raised his glass. Everyone in the room raised their glasses.
Amash looked into Taylor’s eyes. “To Taylor.”
“To Taylor,” the group echoed, clinking each other’s glasses.
“Did they do this for you too?” Taylor asked Tara.
Tara just bit down and forced a pained smile.
As everyone sipped their wine, the servers streamed into the room.
“So it begins. Buon appetito,” Amash said, setting down his glass.
The meals were served on platters as unique as the entrées themselves—wood and stone bowls and plates woven from palm leaves.
By the seventh course, Amash was in a jovial mood and invited the four guards to imbibe in a glass of wine. As soon as they started drinking, Jack reached for a plate, purposely knocking over his wineglass. Everyone looked over at him.
“What a waste,” Jack said. “That’s like two hundred dollars of wine.”
Taylor took her cue and rebooted everyone in the room except Tara and Jack. While everyone was in a state of confusion, Taylor turned to Tara and said, “Stand up and make yourself look like Amash, and make him look like you.”
Taylor rebooted the room again as Tara did as Taylor had said. She stood up, holding out her chest like the sovereign. Taylor saw them change images.
“Now tell the guards to handcuff her and cover her mouth,” Taylor said.
“Guards, handcuff her,” Tara shouted. “Cover her mouth.”
The guards, still disoriented from Taylor’s rebooting, looked back and forth at each other, not sure how their sovereign had so quickly changed places. One of the guards asked Tara, “Should we turn on the RESAT, sir?”
“No. Just handcuff her. Then we’ll take her back to her cell.”
Amash, who now looked like Tara, shouted angrily, “You won’t get away with this.”
“I got this,” Jack said. He grabbed Amash and threw him to the ground, then pressed his knee into Amash’s chest. “I got her,” Jack shouted to the guards. “Bring me some cuffs. Hurry!”
“Help him,” Tara shouted.
The chief guard grabbed Amash as two of the other guards scrambled over to help.
“Give me your gun!” Jack said to the chief.
He was about to hand it over when Amash shouted, “Coventry!”
The room froze. Suddenly Taylor and Tara both screamed out, then dropped to the ground as intense broadcasted waves of RESAT filled the room.
Amash regained his form as Tara fell over, unconscious. The startled guards standing above him moved their guns from Amash to Jack.
“Get him off me!” Amash shouted.
The guards pulled Jack off Amash, then pinned him to the ground. Amash rolled to his side, then stood. He looked down at Jack and said, “Beat him and cuff him.”
All four of the guards fell onto Jack with their batons until he was unconscious and their batons were dripping with Jack’s blood.
Amash walked over to Taylor. “This is how you repay me for my kindness? And you thought you could get away with that.” He turned to Tara. “And if you think you suffered before, you’re going to learn a whole new meaning of the word.”
Tara was still unconscious, but her body was heaving from the intensity of the RESAT. Taylor began vomiting, then fell to her side, her body convulsing wildly. “You’re going to kill us,” she screamed. “It’s too much.”
Amash grinned. “You might be right,” he said as he watched the two women in their torturous flails. “But it’s fun to watch.” It was almost a minute later when he said calmly, “Turn the RESAT to five.”
Tara’s and Taylor’s bodies immediately stopped jerking. Taylor passed out.
“Cuff them,” Amash said to Maxwell. “Leave the RESAT as is.”
“Yes, sir. Where would you like them held?”
“Drag them to the corner for now. I’d like to finish my meal.”
“Yes, sir.”
When Taylor finally came to, she was drenched in sweat and lying on her stomach, her hands cuffed behind her back. There was a guard standing directly above her, a boot on either side of her head. Painfully, she turned her head toward Tara, who was about ten feet away and in the same predicament.
She forced out two words. “What happened?”
“Silence,” Amash shouted. “You failed. Now don’t disturb my meal.”
Amash and Dr. Raman went back to eating as if nothing had happened. Maxwell was no longer at the table. He was furious that they had tricked and shamed him on his watch, which he was taking out on Jack with his truncheon.
Dr. Raman looked over at Taylor and said, “That is a rather remarkable power she has. Making people look like someone else.”
“It’s actually the other one,” Amash said. “It’s Tara.”
“How can you tell the difference between the two?”
“All things being equal, they’re identical. But a week in the caves has its effects.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “So, the power to make people appear as someone else was something the Elgen taught her back in the early days of the Elgen Academy. The people don’t actually change form, of course. She changes the mind’s image of them. Dr. Hatch had the idea of replacing the president of the United States with himself. It was a bold plan. I personally think that the idea still has merit.”
“What power does the other sister have?” Dr. Raman asked.
“That confusion you felt just before everything went down, that was her. She has the ability to reboot minds.”
“Reboot?”
“It’s basically a hardwired scramble of the cerebellum. Like restarting a computer.”
He slowly nodded. “Interesting.”
“She has that as well as the gift we are most interested in.”
“What is that?”
“She has the ability to see the future.”
“If she can see the future, why did she make such a foolish attempt?”
Amash grinned. “A fair question. From what we understand, it doesn’t work quite that way. Her gift isn’t specific. She has prophetic dreams. We’ve known for some time that she had this power, but until now we’ve never had the opportunity to help her develop it.”
“You think she will cooperate?”
Amash looked at Taylor, who had opened her eyes. “That depends on how much she likes her sister. So far she has shown great loyalty to her. She even surrendered herself for her. I don’t think she has much desire to watch her sister slowly and painfully die or to be the cause of her death.”
“How about this one?” Maxwell asked, pushing Jack with his foot. “What do we do with traitors?”
Jack was conscious again and in severe pain from his beating. A hematoma had already developed over his eye. Like the women, he was on his stomach, handcuffed, with a guard standing over him. His hair was red with blood.
“What won’t we do?” Amash said. “Such a tragic disappointment. I admit he fooled me. I honestly didn’t think he was that clever.” He smiled darkly. “The recreation for tonight has changed to something a little more entertaining. After dessert, we’ll take him out and shoot him.”
14 A Life Not Worth Living
“No,” Taylor said. “Please, don’t. I’ll do whatever you say.”
“Of course you’ll do whatever I say anyway. I don’t need this traitor around to assure that.” He moved closer to her. “Why would you think I would care about what you want? The Chasqui have a strict code of rules we live by, which is how we’ve survived for centuries. Betrayal is punished by death. No exceptions.”
“He has to be a Chasqui to betray the Chasqui, doesn’t he? I mean, I fought you, but you didn’t say that I betrayed you.”
Amash looked at her with an amused expression. “Go on.”
“There must be some kind of oath to be a Chasqui.”
“Of course.”
“Did Jack take the Chasqui oath?”
An amused smile crossed Amash’s lips. “I heard that you were clever.” He squatted down next to her. “So, Ms. Ridley, what do you think we should do with your friend? Because truthfully, as a prisoner of ours, he may desire death over the existence that you’re choosing for him.
“Or am I correct in assuming that you want to keep him around until your friends liberate him? Because, if so, I assure you, that’s not going to happen. You see, we’ve choreographed this entire mission of yours. We are well aware of your ‘Alpha Team’—at least what’s left of them. We could have taken them out at any time. Our plan was that they would deliver you to us, and, just as we planned, they have.
“So, you see, we’ve been miles ahead of you the whole time. As you fight for your friend’s future, you should bear in mind that Jack’s existence won’t be pleasant, and, ultimately, he’ll be begging for death.”
Taylor looked at him, fighting the tears that wanted to fall. Still, Amash read the pain in her eyes. “Reality can be painful, I know. But truth is truth. I just thought you should know that everything has gone according to our plan.”
“You underestimate us,” Taylor said, trying her best to sound confident. “Just like Hatch did. Look what happened to him.”
A wry grin crossed Amash’s lips. “That’s the spirit, my girl. I would expect nothing less from you. Unfortunately, it’s that blind faith in your compadres that will be your undoing. And, make no mistake, Hatch was a fool.”
“Hatch was smarter than you.”
“Says the writhing girl on the floor,” Amash said. He lightly sighed. “But enough for now. I will, for the time being, let your friend live, if only to amuse myself with his suffering. But no promises. I’ll probably change my mind tomorrow.
“When the drug lord Pablo Escobar was betrayed, he’d chain the offender to a tree on his mile-long driveway, so those driving in would see his victims in various stages of suffering and death. It sent an indelible message to those who did business with him. Lead or silver was always the choice. You could profit off your association or suffer.
“Of course he’ll try to escape—we expect that—but we have a simple solution for that. For you we have RESAT vests that fire on full if you leave the premises. Obviously, that won’t work on him. But we wouldn’t want him to feel left out.” He turned to look at Jack. “For you, dear boy, we’ll wire you with an explosive vest. You’ll appreciate it. It’s lined with C4. If you leave the facility, it blows up. If you try to take it off, it blows up.” His voice lowered. “If you displease me in any way, it blows up.
“Come in,” she said.
The door opened. A man wearing a dress uniform stood in the doorway. She was surprised to see the guard all dressed up.
“Are you ready, señorita?”
“Yes.” She walked to the door.
“You look lovely this evening.”
“Thank you.”
As she walked out into the hallway, she saw there were actually two guards—the one in formal attire at her side, the other in the regular Chasqui guard uniform, which was identical to the traditional Elgen uniform except for a purple belt and the Chasqui patch.
They walked about fifty yards through two separate doorways, then took a turn into a part of the compound where she had never been. The entrance to the room was decorated with gilded-framed paintings and tapestries on the wall, thick carpets, and chandeliers. She guessed that the room had been built for entertaining dignitaries.
Two soldiers opened the intricately carved wood doors to a luxurious candlelit dining room.
“Taylor!”
Taylor turned around. Tara was running up behind her, also dressed in a gown. The two sisters embraced.
“Are you okay?” Taylor asked.
“I am now,” she said. She leaned back. “How did they capture you?”
“They didn’t. I surrendered. For you.”
Tears welled up in Tara’s eyes. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Of course I should. How have they been treating you?”
Amash had warned Tara that he would turn on the RESAT and torture both her and Taylor if she said, or even implied, anything negative at all.
“It’s been… fine.”
“The rooms are a lot nicer than the ones Hatch kept us in.”
Tara just forced a smile. Since her arrival she’d been kept in a RESAT vest in a bat- and guano-filled cave. She wondered why Taylor hadn’t seen that when they’d touched.
Amash walked up to them, his eyes darting back and forth between them.
“Ladies, you look lovely this evening. It’s good to see the two of you together again.”
“It’s good to be together,” Taylor said.
“Thank you,” Tara said, doing her best to conceal her contempt for him.
“You’re welcome,” Amash said. “I’m sure you’re both hungry. We have an amazing celebratory meal planned for this evening—a seventeen-course meal, in fact.”
Despite her pain, Tara’s mouth watered. She had been fed almost nothing during her confinement.
“Come in, please. Let’s dine.”
The twins followed him into the dining room. The room was similar to Hatch’s dining room in Tuvalu, with stained wood paneling and brass and crystal chandeliers. The table was long and spread with a cream-colored linen cloth, and set with fine blue-and-white Delft porcelain and polished sterling silverware. Such fineness seemed out of place in the jungle. But even in the remote wilderness, Hatch had always found a way to surround himself with the luxuries of life. Always.
Amash walked to the front of the room. In addition to the waiters and guards, Jack and two other men were standing behind the table. One was in a military dress uniform; the other wore a white floor-length robe with a white cap.
Amash tapped a spoon against a wineglass to get everyone’s attention. “Welcome, my friends. I’m pleased that you’ve joined me this evening, especially our newest guest, Miss Taylor Ridley.” He turned to the men next to him. “Be assured, gentlemen, you are not seeing double; these beautiful young ladies are twins.”
All the men, except for Jack, laughed.
“Now for the seating arrangements.” He turned to the women. “I’m sure you have much to catch up on, so I’ll let you two sit next to each other in those two seats,” he said, pointing. “Jack, you sit right there, across from Taylor.”
“Yes, sir.” Jack sat down, looking into Taylor’s eyes as he did. Tara wouldn’t look at him, afraid that she might reveal her true feelings.
“Introductions are in order. To my right is Maxwell Neilsen. He is the chief of guards.”
“PizzaMax,” Taylor whispered to Tara. Tara giggled.
Amash’s brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”
“Nothing,” Taylor said. “Sorry.”
“To my left is Dr. Raman, our head scientist.”
The doctor bowed slightly. “It is my pleasure,” he said with a heavy accent.
“Everyone, please sit.” After everyone had taken their seats, Amash continued. “Now on to our present business. To begin, our wines today, compliments of the former Dr. C. J. Hatch, are a Mouton Rothschild 1955, acquired, no doubt, at auction. Someone described its flavor as a celestial blend of mint, leather, and lead pencil, which I recognize is, at the least, a very ironic description.
“For a white wine we have a 2009 Domaine de la Romanee-Conti Montrachet Grand Cru—a satiny citrus-and-honey-noted chardonnay. Dr. Hatch acquired an entire case of this delightful wine at twenty-five hundred dollars a bottle, which might sound a bit excessive but was a shrewd investment, as they are now valued at four times that amount. There were many things about the former leader to dislike, but his expertise in selecting spirits was not one of them.”
At that, he gave a subtle command, and servers holding bottles of wine made their way around the table.
“I’ll have the red,” Taylor said, holding out her glass.
Tara said, “Me too.”
“Too fruity for me,” Jack said. “I’ll have the white.”
“Maybe you should try something yellow,” Tara said, biting back her anger. She furtively glanced over at Amash, afraid that he might have heard her, but he appeared distracted, comparing wines with the scientist.
As Jack took a sip of wine, he slipped off a shoe, reached his foot across the table, and touched Taylor on her calf. Taylor continued to act like she was in conversation with Tara as Jack thought to her.
This is the plan. When I spill my wine, reboot everyone in the room; then have Tara make herself look like Amash and make Amash look like her. Scratch your nose if you understand.
Taylor casually reached up and scratched her nose. Then she added into her conversation, “Tara, be ready.”
Good luck, Jack thought, then slipped his shoe back on.
A couple of minutes later a man wearing a chef’s smock and hat walked into the room and whispered into Amash’s ear. Amash nodded, then said, “Gracias.” Then, as the chef walked back to the kitchen, Amash again tapped his spoon against his glass.
“The chef’s assistant has just informed me that dinner is ready. But, before we eat, let me offer a little explanation about our meal today.
“Our chef has joined us from the famous restaurant Central in Miraflores, Lima. I’m not boasting when I say it is considered the best restaurant in South America, and one of the top Michelin restaurants in the world. Or maybe I am boasting, but I’m not exaggerating. Either way, you are in for a real treat.
“I’m not exaggerating either when I say this is a seventeen-course meal. Yes, it might sound a bit excessive, but today is a special day after all, the reuniting of sisters in a cause we love more than we can say.
“We’ll begin our culinary adventure with scallops and pepino melon, with Charapita pepper. This will be followed by sea bass and clams on quinoa leaf, squash and shrimp, and then duck and squid. I guarantee you have never had the pleasure of such a culinary adventure before.
“I know you have a bit of a sweet tooth, Taylor. So, for you, we have four kinds of dessert, including a cacao mousse, a sort of clay in coca leaves in shaved-ice jelly, and, the most interesting of the dolce offerings, huamp gel, which are small, translucent balls of algae.
“So, before we begin, let us raise our glasses to our newest compatriot, Taylor Ridley.” He raised his glass. Everyone in the room raised their glasses.
Amash looked into Taylor’s eyes. “To Taylor.”
“To Taylor,” the group echoed, clinking each other’s glasses.
“Did they do this for you too?” Taylor asked Tara.
Tara just bit down and forced a pained smile.
As everyone sipped their wine, the servers streamed into the room.
“So it begins. Buon appetito,” Amash said, setting down his glass.
The meals were served on platters as unique as the entrées themselves—wood and stone bowls and plates woven from palm leaves.
By the seventh course, Amash was in a jovial mood and invited the four guards to imbibe in a glass of wine. As soon as they started drinking, Jack reached for a plate, purposely knocking over his wineglass. Everyone looked over at him.
“What a waste,” Jack said. “That’s like two hundred dollars of wine.”
Taylor took her cue and rebooted everyone in the room except Tara and Jack. While everyone was in a state of confusion, Taylor turned to Tara and said, “Stand up and make yourself look like Amash, and make him look like you.”
Taylor rebooted the room again as Tara did as Taylor had said. She stood up, holding out her chest like the sovereign. Taylor saw them change images.
“Now tell the guards to handcuff her and cover her mouth,” Taylor said.
“Guards, handcuff her,” Tara shouted. “Cover her mouth.”
The guards, still disoriented from Taylor’s rebooting, looked back and forth at each other, not sure how their sovereign had so quickly changed places. One of the guards asked Tara, “Should we turn on the RESAT, sir?”
“No. Just handcuff her. Then we’ll take her back to her cell.”
Amash, who now looked like Tara, shouted angrily, “You won’t get away with this.”
“I got this,” Jack said. He grabbed Amash and threw him to the ground, then pressed his knee into Amash’s chest. “I got her,” Jack shouted to the guards. “Bring me some cuffs. Hurry!”
“Help him,” Tara shouted.
The chief guard grabbed Amash as two of the other guards scrambled over to help.
“Give me your gun!” Jack said to the chief.
He was about to hand it over when Amash shouted, “Coventry!”
The room froze. Suddenly Taylor and Tara both screamed out, then dropped to the ground as intense broadcasted waves of RESAT filled the room.
Amash regained his form as Tara fell over, unconscious. The startled guards standing above him moved their guns from Amash to Jack.
“Get him off me!” Amash shouted.
The guards pulled Jack off Amash, then pinned him to the ground. Amash rolled to his side, then stood. He looked down at Jack and said, “Beat him and cuff him.”
All four of the guards fell onto Jack with their batons until he was unconscious and their batons were dripping with Jack’s blood.
Amash walked over to Taylor. “This is how you repay me for my kindness? And you thought you could get away with that.” He turned to Tara. “And if you think you suffered before, you’re going to learn a whole new meaning of the word.”
Tara was still unconscious, but her body was heaving from the intensity of the RESAT. Taylor began vomiting, then fell to her side, her body convulsing wildly. “You’re going to kill us,” she screamed. “It’s too much.”
Amash grinned. “You might be right,” he said as he watched the two women in their torturous flails. “But it’s fun to watch.” It was almost a minute later when he said calmly, “Turn the RESAT to five.”
Tara’s and Taylor’s bodies immediately stopped jerking. Taylor passed out.
“Cuff them,” Amash said to Maxwell. “Leave the RESAT as is.”
“Yes, sir. Where would you like them held?”
“Drag them to the corner for now. I’d like to finish my meal.”
“Yes, sir.”
When Taylor finally came to, she was drenched in sweat and lying on her stomach, her hands cuffed behind her back. There was a guard standing directly above her, a boot on either side of her head. Painfully, she turned her head toward Tara, who was about ten feet away and in the same predicament.
She forced out two words. “What happened?”
“Silence,” Amash shouted. “You failed. Now don’t disturb my meal.”
Amash and Dr. Raman went back to eating as if nothing had happened. Maxwell was no longer at the table. He was furious that they had tricked and shamed him on his watch, which he was taking out on Jack with his truncheon.
Dr. Raman looked over at Taylor and said, “That is a rather remarkable power she has. Making people look like someone else.”
“It’s actually the other one,” Amash said. “It’s Tara.”
“How can you tell the difference between the two?”
“All things being equal, they’re identical. But a week in the caves has its effects.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “So, the power to make people appear as someone else was something the Elgen taught her back in the early days of the Elgen Academy. The people don’t actually change form, of course. She changes the mind’s image of them. Dr. Hatch had the idea of replacing the president of the United States with himself. It was a bold plan. I personally think that the idea still has merit.”
“What power does the other sister have?” Dr. Raman asked.
“That confusion you felt just before everything went down, that was her. She has the ability to reboot minds.”
“Reboot?”
“It’s basically a hardwired scramble of the cerebellum. Like restarting a computer.”
He slowly nodded. “Interesting.”
“She has that as well as the gift we are most interested in.”
“What is that?”
“She has the ability to see the future.”
“If she can see the future, why did she make such a foolish attempt?”
Amash grinned. “A fair question. From what we understand, it doesn’t work quite that way. Her gift isn’t specific. She has prophetic dreams. We’ve known for some time that she had this power, but until now we’ve never had the opportunity to help her develop it.”
“You think she will cooperate?”
Amash looked at Taylor, who had opened her eyes. “That depends on how much she likes her sister. So far she has shown great loyalty to her. She even surrendered herself for her. I don’t think she has much desire to watch her sister slowly and painfully die or to be the cause of her death.”
“How about this one?” Maxwell asked, pushing Jack with his foot. “What do we do with traitors?”
Jack was conscious again and in severe pain from his beating. A hematoma had already developed over his eye. Like the women, he was on his stomach, handcuffed, with a guard standing over him. His hair was red with blood.
“What won’t we do?” Amash said. “Such a tragic disappointment. I admit he fooled me. I honestly didn’t think he was that clever.” He smiled darkly. “The recreation for tonight has changed to something a little more entertaining. After dessert, we’ll take him out and shoot him.”
14 A Life Not Worth Living
“No,” Taylor said. “Please, don’t. I’ll do whatever you say.”
“Of course you’ll do whatever I say anyway. I don’t need this traitor around to assure that.” He moved closer to her. “Why would you think I would care about what you want? The Chasqui have a strict code of rules we live by, which is how we’ve survived for centuries. Betrayal is punished by death. No exceptions.”
“He has to be a Chasqui to betray the Chasqui, doesn’t he? I mean, I fought you, but you didn’t say that I betrayed you.”
Amash looked at her with an amused expression. “Go on.”
“There must be some kind of oath to be a Chasqui.”
“Of course.”
“Did Jack take the Chasqui oath?”
An amused smile crossed Amash’s lips. “I heard that you were clever.” He squatted down next to her. “So, Ms. Ridley, what do you think we should do with your friend? Because truthfully, as a prisoner of ours, he may desire death over the existence that you’re choosing for him.
“Or am I correct in assuming that you want to keep him around until your friends liberate him? Because, if so, I assure you, that’s not going to happen. You see, we’ve choreographed this entire mission of yours. We are well aware of your ‘Alpha Team’—at least what’s left of them. We could have taken them out at any time. Our plan was that they would deliver you to us, and, just as we planned, they have.
“So, you see, we’ve been miles ahead of you the whole time. As you fight for your friend’s future, you should bear in mind that Jack’s existence won’t be pleasant, and, ultimately, he’ll be begging for death.”
Taylor looked at him, fighting the tears that wanted to fall. Still, Amash read the pain in her eyes. “Reality can be painful, I know. But truth is truth. I just thought you should know that everything has gone according to our plan.”
“You underestimate us,” Taylor said, trying her best to sound confident. “Just like Hatch did. Look what happened to him.”
A wry grin crossed Amash’s lips. “That’s the spirit, my girl. I would expect nothing less from you. Unfortunately, it’s that blind faith in your compadres that will be your undoing. And, make no mistake, Hatch was a fool.”
“Hatch was smarter than you.”
“Says the writhing girl on the floor,” Amash said. He lightly sighed. “But enough for now. I will, for the time being, let your friend live, if only to amuse myself with his suffering. But no promises. I’ll probably change my mind tomorrow.
“When the drug lord Pablo Escobar was betrayed, he’d chain the offender to a tree on his mile-long driveway, so those driving in would see his victims in various stages of suffering and death. It sent an indelible message to those who did business with him. Lead or silver was always the choice. You could profit off your association or suffer.
“Of course he’ll try to escape—we expect that—but we have a simple solution for that. For you we have RESAT vests that fire on full if you leave the premises. Obviously, that won’t work on him. But we wouldn’t want him to feel left out.” He turned to look at Jack. “For you, dear boy, we’ll wire you with an explosive vest. You’ll appreciate it. It’s lined with C4. If you leave the facility, it blows up. If you try to take it off, it blows up.” His voice lowered. “If you displease me in any way, it blows up.
