SECRET CIA TESTINGFacility, Virginia
He was feeling a lot better but purposely kept his eyes unfocused, staring at nothing. Listen in. See what was going on. Mourn. He needed time to mourn. All those memories, stolen in seconds.
“He’s been going through downtime a while now. What’s wrong with him?”
“Standard. We’ve never given him two doses one after another before, so that’s to be expected. He did better than any of the other and he seems to be coming out of it slowly.”
“At least he isn’t drooling. That’s a good sign.”
Fuckers. They used him to track down another remote viewer and didn’t warn him that she was different. He had no proof but somehow, she’d snatched all his precious stock of memories, every single one, when he slammed through her during her remote-viewing session. He’d never heard of such a thing before, but it only made sense that if he’d found a way to capture other people’s emotional memories, then some other remote viewer could have found a way to remove another remote viewer’s own private stash. It made fucking perfect sense—why hadn’t he thought about that possibility before? He could have maybe avoided the damn bitch.
“When do you think we can send him out again? We need to know whether they’re on to us.”
“We’ll give him a couple more hours’ rest. Then we’ll have to use him sparingly for a while.”
“Why? Push him, I say. We have many more to replace him if he burns out.”
“You’re right about that, of course, but this one’s been able to stay with it successfully the last few times, so he appears to be able to control the serum’s side effects. I want to use him carefully so we can get some good use out of him. He did find the location of the encryption key.”
“What good is that? We didn’t get it before they did. In fact, he almost got us caught, remember, screaming aloud like that in the van.”
“He was in pain, Stevens. Some kind of psychic attack.”
The other man snorted. “Sometimes I think you’re too into this. Psychic attack.” He snorted again.
Of the two men in charge of his session, he couldn’t stand this one the most. He had obviously never been part of any remote-viewing program before, or he’d be more sensitive regarding subjects such as psychic phenomena and mental blocks. Every time he’d had some kind of problem, he’d noticed the same disbelieving attitude, as if his problem was just an inconvenience.
“Tell me what you need, Agent 51. It’s your downtime. Would you like some coffee? Maybe a cola?”
It’s not 51; it’s Jonah Samson!he wanted to shout at them. He was so tired of being just a number to them. Even his chart at the end of his bed said Number 51. The white coats referred to him as 51. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t heard anyone calling him Jonah for a while now.
But that wasn’t important. What was important was working with them so he could get more of the juice. He had to be smart.
“Cigarettes,” he said. “Can you get me some?”
“Of course.”
“Do you need me to write a report?” That was the standard operating procedure in the old days, when he was in training. But these guys seemed more interested in action than reports.
“No, this is a top secret case, no report’s needed at this moment.”
Just as he thought. An agenda inside the CIA. He didn’t care. He just wanted access to the serum.
He felt empty inside.
He needed these fuckers as much as they needed him. Maybe more. They had the supply of the serum, the only thing more important than his lost “recordings”. Without it, there would be no more emotional memories to record. So he needed to play nice for a while yet. He would be free of them one day.
Chapter Three
Jed didn’t like the idea that she’d been in pain. He’d known it was a possibility, since Armando Chang had complained of blinding pain from his use of the serum. However, he’d hoped that this new version, SYMBIOS 2, would eliminate that.
Pain and paranoia. He’d seen it happening to Armando. Helen was also exhibiting an interesting side effect that Armando hadn’t had. Chemicals and body chemistry, so unique when broken down in individual biological systems.
A complete spy uses everything to achieve his goals. There are no ifs, ands, or buts, once you accept that mission. Focus your mind and body on the target, Conor, and reach your goal before moving to the next one.
Jed heard his CIA mentor’s calm instructions in his head, as if he were eighteen again—still cocky and brash Conor—and being scolded for getting entangled with yet another woman while working in an operation. All the right excuses had been on his side. He was eighteen, after all, with the kind of cocky charm that drew female attention too easily and an upbringing that made him protective about people for whom he cared. He was being groomed in a trade that insisted on detachment first and nobility second. It took him a few years to understand thatthatmeant he couldn’t engage himself one hundred percent to another human being, especially a woman, or else, somewhere along a dangerous operation, it’d be his Achilles’ Heel, be it worrying about saving someone when he should be thinking of capturing his target, or being used by the enemy.
Because of his tendency to get physically, and sometimes emotionally, involved with women in his life and because women were drawn to him, instead of moving him away from operations that involved temptation, the trainers had deliberately placed him in more and more such situations, watching him modify his behavior and attitude. Jed had understood. He was one of their youngest traineesand they had plenty of time to adjust his personality. That was, if he didn’t die in the process.
