Zhu shook his head and stepped to the door to call in the tech. Her heart pounded even more as they strapped her down. This was the moment of truth. They had done a full body scan twice now, using the CAT scan machine before they’d administered the chemicals. She’d been wanded repeatedly. Now they were going to scan her brain. This would be the telling moment.
She was put inside the machine and she closed her eyes, trying not to feel claustrophobic. The solid-state drive implanted in her brain had no movable mechanical parts. The SSD was far more resistant to physical movement and shock than a metal hard drive would be. Without the spinning disk, there was no whirring in her head to drive her insane.
The SSD was made of a newer material called PEEK-carbon that was radiolucent to X-ray, CT and MRI scans—at least Whitney told her it was. So far, she’d passed the X-ray and CT scans. She had, of course, done research on it and knew it was 30 percent carbon fiber reinforced polyetheretherketone.
Whitney had built a nanotube from PEEK-carbon. Using the nanotube, he created a SSD that he claimed was invisible to X-ray, CT and MRI scans. To power it, he used the same idea as used in pacemakers—the body’s movements. The generator was made of the same PEEK-carbon material and sat on a flat sheet of the same right beside the SSD. Although it was tiny, she knew it was a lot to miss with a scan. She had to rely on Whitney’s assurances that the SSD wouldn’t show up, no matter how they tried to search for it.
She allowed her breathing and heart to swing out of control because it would be unnatural not to. She’d shown she was terrified. She’d made it appear as if she were close to going into shock, and maybe she was. She could be cool and calm in most situations, but not when torture was looming. Not after the chemicals Zhu had given her. She still felt the burn through her body and tasted the agony in her mouth.
To get through the brain scan, she concentrated on trying to figure out what drug Zhu had used on the teacup and why she was no longer feeling the effects but he was. Whitney had developed some secret pheromone formula that was unique to two people in the program. His desire had been to pair them so when they were sent into the field together, their distinctive psychic gifts and the physical enhancements he chose for them complemented each other and made them a much more lethal combination.
Zhu wasn’t a GhostWalker, so how had he managed to get ahold of Whitney’s secret project when no amount of hacking had found the program used by him? And why was it working against Zhu? He was clearly attracted to her. Could it be natural and not part of whatever truth serum Cheng had devised? She didn’t want to think Zhu capable of something so mundane as to be generally attracted to a woman.
Could she use his attraction to her against him? She didn’t think so. He was too disciplined and she didn’t doubt for a minute that he would put a bullet in her head if Cheng demanded it. Better a bullet than more torture. He hadn’t hesitated to inject her with nasty drugs and sit by all day while she screamed, cried, begged and pleaded.
She knew it wasn’t good when they took her out of the machine. She heard more gunshots just outside the door, the bullets fired in rapid succession, and this time the body that fell hit against the wall to the room with the MRI machine. Zhu, impassive as always, handed her clothes to her and told her to get dressed. She did so in silence, watching blood seep under the door.
Zara felt a little faint, but better a quick death than being tortured again. She didn’t think she could go through it again. She didn’t believe for one moment she would get lucky enough to be let go. She was fairly certain the tech was murdered because he’d given Cheng results the man didn’t want to hear. She stole a glance at Zhu. He looked unconcerned, and that was even more terrifying than knowing Cheng just indiscriminately killed a tech because he didn’t like the results the man had given him.
Zhu placed his lips against her ear. “You keep quiet, do you understand me? Unless I tell you otherwise, keep your mouth shut.”
She nodded her understanding, although she didn’t understand at all. She kept dressing as quickly as she could. The moment she was finished, Zhu took her arm and opened the door. The body of the young tech lay slumped over beside the wall and directly in front of the door. He lay in a pool of blood. She let out a single sound of despair and closed her eyes, turning her face away.
Cheng paced the hallway, a gun in his fist. He talked fast, an angry staccato, lashing out at his hired soldiers, berating them over and over. He halted abruptly when Zhu pulled her out of the room and around the dead body. She kept her eyes on the floor, visibly shaking. What had made Cheng so angry? The fact that they found something, or they didn’t?
Cheng stalked over to her, his face contorted like a madman’s. He regarded her silently for a long moment. She didn’t dare look up. She tried to look as cowed as she felt. He raised his gun hand and everything in her stilled, braced for the impact of the bullet. Instead of a bullet, he slammed the gun into her face, hitting her temple on one side and then across her cheek on the other, pistol-whipping her. She tried to get away from him, but Zhu caught both arms and held her immobile in front of him. Blood ran down her face. She felt light-headed when he stopped.
“Take her to the interrogation room. I want you to beat the truth out of her. Make it hurt, Zhu. Beat her within an inch of her life, but keep her alive. If that isn’t successful, use the cane and then the whip. You wield it with such proficiency. I want to know how this was done.” Cheng spoke in English, wanting her to know what was coming.
Zhu didn’t respond, but pushed her toward the elevators. They had to skirt around a pool of blood. Halfway to the elevator, another of the soldiers lay on the floor, dead. She stumbled. Zhu wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her up as they entered the elevator. She tensed, wondering if she could kill him and get out. She knew the place was on lockdown, and soldiers guarded every point of entry.
“Don’t.”
She must have tensed up, ready to fight. Her head exploded with pain with every movement, but she had to try. She couldn’t just let him torture her. This was going to be bad, worse than the chemicals, and she’d never done bad well. She wasn’t stoic. She was loud and cried like a baby. She was the last person that should ever guard secrets when torture was involved. She had to try. She had to protect the GhostWalkers.
Before Zara could make a move, Zhu punched her hard in the stomach. Very hard. She doubled over and heaved. He didn’t let her fall to the ground, not even when her legs turned to rubber. Nothing like taking the fight out of her fast. She knew that move and why he’d done it.
She tried to bring her head up fast, hoping to hit him under his chin, but she was disoriented from the pistol whipping and Zhu easily avoided her attempt and hit her a second time. Pain exploded everywhere, refusing to stay confined to her head. She’d had training, years of it, but then Whitney told her to forget her training in situations like this one and react like a terrified woman. He’d made her practice that for the last few years. Training warred with survival instincts. She forced herself to bite, to hit feebly, to carry out the stupid, stupid cover that wasn’t really a cover, but was really her.
She lost track of how many times he hit her. It was methodical and done coolly, completely impersonal. So much for attraction and how much good will it would buy her. When they reached the upper floor where her room was, he dragged her out of the elevator by her hair, taking her right past her room, to another, three doors down where he shoved her inside.