“I’ll get the door,” Luke said. “Stay back.”
He opened the door to someone wearing a sweatshirt with a hood that shadowed his face. “Calliope banner ibex,” the man at the door said.
Some sort of code? Except that Luke didn’t react to it. The man at the door pushed back his hood.
It was Mark Olund
Grinning, he chucked Luke under the chin, then shoved him as if to test if he’d hold still. Luke Ryan remained motionless.
The bearded guy ended his call, belatedly alarmed. “What’s going on? Who the hell are you?”
Mark grabbed Luke, heaved him into the room and shut the door. At this angle, Caro could see Ryan’s tense face. He was struggling to breathe.
“Hey, Lukie,” Mark said. “Remember me?”
Caro didn’t understand what she saw but it was awful and sure to get worse.
The bearded guy’s voice was edged with panic. “What the hell’s wrong with you, Luke? Are you having a goddamn seizure? Who’s this guy? Do you know him?”
Luke’s eyes blazed with helpless fury. He seemed frozen. He dragged in tight breaths, fighting for air, but he was still on his feet.
Mark pushed him against a wall. He stayed there.
Then Mark lifted a gun from Luke’s holster with a latex gloved hand, and deftly screwed on a silencer.
The bearded guy’s eyes went wide with terror. He lunged for the door—
Two muffled gunshots to the head. The bearded man thudded to the ground.
Mark put down the gun, seized Luke’s chin in a cruel pincer grip and kissed him aggressively. “Alone at last,” he said. “Great to see you again. The brave warrior who saved us all! What a man. You always had the biggest balls. Mind if I squeeze?” Mark reached down, grabbed the other man’s crotch and just about wrenched them off.
Luke’s face contracted with agony, but he didn’t make a sound.
Mark slapped him brutally hard. Caro half expected Luke to spit out teeth or crumple to the floor, but his tormenter steadied him before he could topple.
“Poor bastard,” Mark crooned. “What a fucking mess. They invested so much money in you kill code boys before they scrapped the program. Everyone with clearance knows your fucking codes, plus anyone those people feel like telling . . . and anyone who’s good at data theft, like me. I have your brother’s codes too. I think you two are the last of the tribe.” He patted Luke’s face. “I’m almost sorry for you. But not really.”
Luke was motionless, his gaze fixed on Mark.
“Want to know a secret?” Mark chortled. “Obsidian improved the product. No verbal codes this time, though. No more of that calliope-banner-ibex crap. Too sloppy. Full of bugs. Not anymore. Now it’s coded ultrasound. One pulse to activate. And now there are hundreds of them. Trained like us, only better. Stronger, faster, more mods, more implants, more power genes.”
Luke’s chest hitched as Mark leaned closer. “Aww. Don’t be jealous. I’m going to take their army . . . and I’m going to fuck them with it. I’m going to fuck them really hard. And you, my old friend, are going to help me do it.”
Luke made a strangled sound.
“Yeah, I know, it’s crazy,” Mark agreed. “But you’re the decryption man. You and Zade and Sisko decrypted all the Midlands info before rebellion day. I know exactly how good you are. I have the files on the slave soldiers in a biometric safe, which I can’t get into. But you can.” Mark’s manic grin showed all his teeth as he leaned in and licked Luke’s neck. “I could have had so much fun with you. Too bad I’m not into boys.”
Luke gurgled painfully, dragging in a little air.
“Shut up. Don’t even try to move. You can’t until I give you the release code. I have six prototype slave soldiers all in the Wyoming-Utah area, and as soon as I get access to the frequency wands, I can pick them up and start practicing.”
Luke looked pale. Gray in the face, blue in the lips. Fighting Mark’s mind control was quickly draining his strength.
“By the way, as far as the police are concerned, you shot that rich asshole, took his eighty million and his fucking fancy jewelry collection and left the country. I could tell them where to find you. Want to know?” He leaned closer, to Luke’s ear. “You’ll be six levels underground, at my secret place. Being my bitch.”
Luke jerked, helplessly.
Mark Olund pulled a small device out of the pocket of his sweatshirt. It looked like a wide, heavyweight elastic band that he put around Luke’s head, clamping a series of sleekly designed electronic devices against it. Mark adjusted the band carefully and peered down into his phone, syncing the device. He gazed at his own phone for a few moments, tapping and scrolling.
Apparently satisfied, Olund went to the door and opened it. Four huge men came in, carrying a case that looked like it was made for a big piece of sound equipment.