“We need to get rid of her and get the hell out of here. Brennan had to make it to help by now,” one of the men at the door said.
“Lenox, you were always a pussy.” Stacy shot him, killing him where he stood.
Gwen’s eyes glared; she had her chance. The Marines taught her, and she honed it in hours on the Chase range, to never flinch at a shot. Heart pounding at her chance, she forced down the shakes, rolled onto her injured right side and pulled Dr. Ackers’ gun free. Her first shot went into him.One down.
She rolled to the floor. One shot each went into the two remaining men at the door.Two more down. Stacy and Cook escaped to the opposite side of the room. A flash in the dark and she shot again.Now there were two left.
“I’m gonna rip your head off and shit down your neck, Gwenny,” Cook said.
Gwen dropped the clip. She frowned; she had three bullets left. George Stacy was the power in the group and the most dangerous. Will had proven he was a lousy shot. The flashlights went out. Gwen could see the flicker of ill-positioned night goggles.Will.
C’mon, Gwen.Her pulse pounded in her ears. She inhaled as quietly she could and held her breath. Recalling how safe she felt in Troy’s arms, she closed her eyes and listened. A scrape of a foot sounded toward the end of the table. She pulled the silk bandage Kip used to stop her bleeding free and, gritting her teeth, she got it beneath her bottom. Moving on the silk against the floor was silent.
“Ah, Gwenny, it’s over,” Will said.
Focused and in control, she thought,I can hold my breath four minutes, asshole.
She propelled herself toward him and pulled the trigger. Hearing his lungs empty and feeling spray against her face, she knew he was down. Sucking in some deep breaths, she dug down for energy.
“It’s just us now, Gwenny,” George Stacy said.
“I need to get this straight: all this started with a murdered professor and morphed into a desire to rid the Marines of women and the men who supported them?” she asked.
“In part. The professor was going to expel us for stealing her final. She had to be stopped.
After graduation, we all went to Basic School. And after that, we went our separate ways. Mitch and Jay went to medical school. Cook to the MPs.” He explained where each man went. “And me, I went to the Agency. I returned to Pendleton deep undercover. What a homerun. I investigated thefts, drugs, and the prevalence of domestic violence and sex crimes. For most of them, I was the good guy. I put a lot of bad people in jail.”
“Is that supposed to make up for the rest?” Gwen asked.
“No, just letting you know,” Stacy said matter-of-factly.
“So why was I the start for the voyeur and the carver?” Gwen breathed with some difficulty.
Stacy laughed. “Cool titles.”
“Not meant to be.” She coughed. Her mouth was dry.
“Will did a short stint in Iraq. The 320thMilitary Police Battalion. Abu Ghraib Prison. Three of the other guys did too. They came back talking about how much torture someone can endure. Though Bush and Rumsfeld apologized, The CIA continued to run Guantanamo and multiple other black sites. Both psychiatrists from our little group, and a collective of more, were charged to research how torture impacted victims’ lives and to create a program of the most effective torture. Some people would offer false information to get it to stop.”
“And I’m not making the connection why?” Gwen asked.
“We created our own control group. Some of our victims were physically brutalized like you. Others were emotionally abused. That’s where we got the idea of using the abused women. Cook wanted you dead, and when you didn’t die, we put you in as a subject. My job was to observe.”
“You did more than observe,” she huffed.
“Male arousal is more than a sexual response,” he said. “It’s over, Gwenny.”
She felt a presence looming over her. Inside the silk bandage, she’d hidden the Kermit flashlight.Last one, Gwen.Feeling his breath on her face, she pressed the on button. Kermit’s bright light shone into his night vision googles, blinding him.
I love you, Troy. She fired her last bullet.
George Stacy began to fall backwards, his hand squeezing the trigger. She rolled under the table for cover.
Shots sounded from outside. The door flew open, and the room was filled with light. “Homeland Security. Drop your weapons,” Josh Stone called.
“It’s Rainman, clear.”
“It’s Batgirl, clear.”
