“Agnes looks for test subjects,” Carlos blurted. “Helping Hearts is a front, a fake clinic that offers free healthcare to gain access to patients’ medical history and run blood tests on them. She sends the information to Dr. Reed’s coordinator, who determines whether they’re the ideal candidate for his research.”
“What the fuck is he researching that he couldn’t just go through legal channels?” Atticus asked.
Carlos’s lids fluttered like he was losing consciousness. Atticus slapped him hard in the face. “Lots of stuff. Mind control. Interrogation techniques. Erasing memories. Implanting memories.”
“How does he decide who he’s going to accept into this trial?” Atticus asked.
Carlos shook his head frantically. “Man, I don’t know. I’m just the clean-up crew.”
“Clean-up crew?” Lake muttered, disgusted.
Carlos’s head lulled on his shoulder. “Yeah, when something goes wrong or when they need somebody silenced, they come to me.”
Jericho charged forward, grabbing the man by his hair and yanking his head up. “How did my sister end up in that river?”
Carlos was fading fast. “My guess is her brain was too scrambled from the drugs and the experiments to continue using her for his research, so he scrapped her for parts.”
Jericho punched the man in the face twice, finding no satisfaction as blood oozed from his mouth. “What the fuck did you just say?”
“It’s not personal. Not for Reed, anyway. That’s just the way this works. Usually, he just turns them back out onto the streets lighter a kidney or a lobe of their liver. Sometimes, missing patches of skin for grafts. That’s how he supplements his income. Sometimes, they don’t do well after surgery. Sometimes, they get sick and die. That’s where I step in.”
“You’re telling me that these clinics—clinics you deliberately put in poor neighborhoods—are screening centers for this piece of shit to find and kidnap research subjects and once they’re too mentally incapacitated, then you sell off their internal organs?”
“It’s not like that. Okay, it is like that, but Dr. Reed isn’t a monster, he’s just determined to continue his research, even if the Pentagon no longer finds his techniques useful. Most of his subjects live.”
Seven gave a disgusted snort. “Like Benny? Who thinks aliens abducted him? Is that living?”
“He’s breathing. He was homeless before we took him. It’s not like we put him on the street. We just…returned him.”
“So, when you took Mercy’s kidney, her brain was already…” Felix started, then trailed off.
“Scrambled? Yeah. Most definitely. She would have been chasing butterflies in an institution for the rest of her life if her surgery hadn’t gone wrong,” Carlos said.
“Where is Dr. Reed doing these experiments? And don’t you dare fucking tell me you don’t know or I will make you deep throat that torch while it’s on,” Jericho said, voice trembling with fury.
“The old VA hospital on MLK and Dobbs. The one that looks like an abandoned building with the ten foot chain-link fence around it with the razor wire. There are two floors below ground, some kind of tunnel system, too. Had something to do with moving VIPs to and from the hospital unseen. The government let him buy it for cheap when they let him go. It was his consolation prize.”
“So, this is an off-book operation? Does he answer to somebody?” Atticus asked.
“No. He does this because he’s passionate about learning all the ways he can manipulate the human mind.”
“What a fucking saint,” Lake muttered from where he stood against the wall with Cree.
Atticus dragged Carlos’s attention back to him. “How many people are you holding down there now?”
“Like, how many patients?” Carlos asked.
Atticus looked at him like he was stupid. “Yes.”
“Ten? Fifteen, maybe? I only go down there to collect my cash.”
“So, you have access to the building?” Atticus asked, perking up. “Excellent. You’re going to tell me how many staff members there are. What’s security like? Cameras? Keycards? Where’s the underground entrance?”
“Staff? I don’t know for sure. Maybe three nurses on any given day. Two security guards doing alternate patrols around the perimeter. Two on either entrance of the underground entry points. But you’re never getting in. You need a fingerprint and a retinal scan and there are cameras literally everywhere.”
Jericho and Atticus exchanged glances. “So, we just need a finger and the eye of somebody who has access, right?” Jericho said.
They both looked at Carlos, who started shaking his head. “Oh, fuck you. Don’t do that.”
