She made the call and twenty minutes later Rogers was being rolled into another room, still in intense pain. He was laid in a tube and run through a scanner.
Jericho studied the screen showing the inner workings of his body. “What level of pain are you feeling, Paul? Please be as precise as you can. And what is the frequency of the attacks?”
“Fuck you!” he screamed.
“We’re wasting valuable time. I don’t know when you might have another episode like this.”
Rogers didn’t answer. Evidently frustrated with him, Jericho continued to study the screen.
“This is truly fascinating,” she said. “I can already see where improvements can be made.” She began to jot down some notes on an electronic tablet. “I’m going to pull up your old records and compare them to what I’m seeing now. This will allow me to dig further into the progression. Do your joints hurt? We were using composites before anyone knew what they could really do. Stronger than steel, more malleable than plastic. But the scan does evidence some breaking down of the limb structures. But the brain implant is the most fascinating.”
“Shut up!” screamed Rogers.
She went on as though she hadn’t heard him. “Do you know that your brain has woven a nerve circuitry around the implant? And also pierced it.” She paused and then added excitedly, “Your brain is inside the implant. That may be the source of—”
“Shut up!”
She fell silent, but her lips moved as she apparently was talking to herself. Her eyes shone with the wonderment of all that she was seeing, while Rogers lay there in utter misery.
As the pain began to subside he looked over at her engrossed in the screen.
He just wanted to put an end to the madness.
To her.
And then to himself.
“That wasn’t Ballard,” he said.
This got her attention. She turned to him.
“So it was you who threw him out the window.”
“And I don’t think the other guy is either. So where is he?”
“Don’t worry, Paul, it’ll all be over soon.”
“A lot of things will soon be over,” he said.
Including you.
“I’ll be back,” she said. “I just need to check on some things.”
She left the room and Rogers stared up at the ceiling. He tried to move his arms and legs, but nothing worked.
Shit!
He was running out of time and options.
When the door opened again he didn’t even turn to look at her.
“Paul?”
Now he did turn.
Suzanne Davis was standing there.
She walked over to him and looked down.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I wish I could do something to help you.”
He shrugged. “Is she the ‘rich’ one who adopted you?”
“Yes.”
Rogers looked away and shook his head. If he could move his arms right now he would reach into his head and rip the thing out.
“She ever give a reason?” he said.
Davis looked away. “Maybe she was lonely.”
Rogers turned to stare at the ceiling again. “You need to think about that some more. At some point, she’ll get tired of you. And then…?”
“Can you move?”
“They got me shot up with shit. Where are we, by the way?”
“Same place.”
“Where’s Ballard? The real Ballard?”
She shook her head.
“Can’t or won’t tell?”
She just shook her head again.
“It doesn’t matter, I’m dead anyway.”
She ran her finger down his arm. “Why did you come back? You could be anywhere else.”
“Do you know what she did to me?”
“A little.”
“Holy shit, John, will you just take a breath and think about this? Now instead of screwing your career, you could go to jail. Or even be killed.”
“Thanks, Bobby. God knows I’m not used to putting my life on the line,” he added dryly.
Puller put the phone away and checked his watch. “We’ll wait until dark and then recon the place. I’m sure it’s well guarded, but every facility has weaknesses.”
Day drifted to night. They sat in their car in a public parking lot off the beach.
Puller checked his watch. It was eleven.