Page 28 of Shattering Dawn
“Because he was one of the few who could handle the drug,” Falcon said. He gave it a beat before adding, “Like you and me.”
There it was again, a subtle reminder that Falcon no longer viewed himself as a subordinate. Cutler told himself to let it go. He needed to keep Falcon close, keep him loyal. For now.
In the wake of the Carnelian disaster and impatient with the slow progress of the trials, Cutler had decided to experiment on someone heknewpossessed a degree of paranormal talent—himself.
He had been thrilled with the results initially. His natural ability for strategy and manipulation had been greatly enhanced. He could identify an individual’s strengths and weaknesses with astonishing accuracy. Talk about knowing what buttons to push. He could pinpoint weaknesses and exploit them with ruthless precision.
That was just the beginning. As the weeks went by and he had settled into his heightened talent he had learned how to identify and short-circuit vital wavelengths in an individual’s aura. When he had taken out one of his competitors at a cocktail party hosted by a warlord, leaving no evidence, he had realized he could kill with his enhanced paranormal senses. The discovery had been intoxicating.
That was when he had decided to risk another dose of the drug. He had not only survived; he had become even stronger.
He had repeated the experiment with Falcon. The results had been equally satisfactory. Falcon’s natural speed, physical coordination, strength, and keen eyesight combined with a ruthless, sociopathic personality had made him a lethal human predator. The serum had turned him into a superb assassin.
On the basis of that success Cutler had given the drug to a few more of his most trusted security people.
It was only after they had all been injected with the second dose that they had begun to experience the side effects. Some were tolerable—night sweats, insomnia, bad dreams, short-term fevers. But those had been followed by a disturbing restlessness and agitation. In the past his three offspring had never questioned his decisions, but now he caught them studying him covertly. He knew that look. They were searching for signs of weakness.
When the new talents began to fade and he and Falcon and the others had started to deteriorate he had demanded an explanation from the directors of the pharmaceutical lab. They had concluded that continuous boosters were required to maintain peak efficiency of the serum.
So now they were all on a three-week schedule. That meant they were dependent on an offshore lab—location unknown—for a continuing supply of the drug. It was intolerable.
“By the way, I’m almost due for another booster,” Falcon said.
Cutler shot him an irritated look. “We all are. Don’t worry, I’ve got the next round of doses. I’ll give you what you need for yourself and the others. Hurnley won’t be needing his.”
“We can’t go on being dependent on that fucking lab,” Falcon said. “We’ve got to get our hands on the formula and set up our own in-house facility.”
“I’m working on it.” Cutler grimaced because he could feel the acid of his frustration eating up his insides. “But we need a stable version of the drug and the only people who have the knowledge required to create it are the directors of that lab. Grabbing the current formula would leave us in the same situation we face now.”
Falcon grunted. “I know.”
“Meanwhile, we have another priority. Pick up Rivers. No more mistakes.”
“What about Sweetwater?”
“If he gets in the way again, get rid of him. We’ll have to risk it. Try to make it look good. I’d rather not attract attention but I’m running out of time. I can’t afford to stay here in California a minute longer than necessary.”
“Understood.”
This time Falcon sounded a little more subdued. That was good,Cutler thought. Evidently the man had remembered that his boss was the one who had access to the directors of the lab and, therefore, access to the boosters.
One thing was certain. Whoever controlled the serum was the one with the power.
Chapter Fourteen
The Cactus GardenMotel was a sun-bleached relic from another era.Make that another century, Amelia decided. It looked like it dated from the 1950s, but if it had set the standards for the architectural style known as mid-century modern, the trendy look would never have been revived.
There was no golf course, no spa, no restaurant, no bar, no security cameras. The desert surrounded it on all sides, crouched and ready to take over the property on short notice. The sole amenity was a small swimming pool in the courtyard. The landscaping consisted of some scruffy palms, a handful of bushy paloverde trees, and, yes, a cactus garden—assuming you counted two ocotillo and three barrel cacti as a garden.
There were only a handful of vehicles in the parking lot behind the rooms. The space marked number ten was empty. On the way to the manager’s office Gideon casually inserted the mystery key into the lock. The door opened easily.
“Damn,” Amelia said. She watched him relock the door. “You’re good at this investigation stuff.”
“Glad you’re impressed.” Gideon dropped the key into a plastic baggie and slipped it into the pocket of his trousers. “But it wasn’t hard to figure out that this motel is exactly what I would have been looking for if I needed a place to stay while I conducted some illegal experiments at the Lucent Springs Hotel.”
“This is a huge leap forward,” Amelia said, anticipation spiking. “I knew that key was important. I just didn’t know why. I hope we can get a room here for tonight.”
“Rooms,” Gideon corrected absently.