“Why would you care?”
He blinked. “Because, whether you like it or not, we’re working together. Don’t you ever go out with people you work with at The Center?”
It was Angela’s turn to blink. “No,” she said, as if the fact should be obvious.
“How do you work efficiently without camaraderie?”
“Much like here. I’m head of security. When I give an order, it’s followed.”
Dyllon gave her an empty look as a different waiter came and took their orders. When they were alone again, Angela leaned forward and said, “I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
“I’m not getting any ideas.” He collapsed against the back of his chair. “I’m tired. You’re tired. We both needed a break. So just enjoy. I was only taking you out as a friendly gesture.”
The corner of her mouth drew back. Life away from The Center certainly was different. Time for socializing was limited back home. So, maybe…“Friends?” she said.
“That’s it.”
Angela relaxed. “I’m still Detective Petersen.”
“You can still call me Dyllon.”
She smiled. “Touché.”
“Now, since we’ve ordered, and you’re somewhat more…relaxed than usual. I have some news.” Dyllon pulled out a brown file he had hidden in his lap and handed it to Angela.
Interest piqued, she leaned forward. “What’s this?”
“Open it.”
Angela flipped to the first page, titled SUPPLIES, with a list of dates in one column and items in another. She glanced over office supplies, personal effects, lists of groceries, and medical necessities. “What?”
“Keep reading.”
Turning to the next page, she saw much of the same type of ordering with Davis’ signature scrawled at the bottom. “The park ranger?”
Pleased with himself, Dyllon folded his arms over his chest. “Seems he’s been doing some excessive ordering. Not much. You’ve got quite the nose, Detective. Seems Davis might be an appropriate suspect.” Dyllon held out his hand. “May I?”
Angela returned the folder and he put it sideways on the table.
“A lot of effort went into how carefully these orders were placed. An order for extra blankets, a year ago. And look here,” Dyllon said, pointing to a longer list, “an abundance of medical supplies just last month.” He flipped through to another page. “Two years ago, too.” He leaned back with a smug look.
Flabbergasted, she stared at him. “And he was never questioned?”
“Why would they? His ordering might’ve been more than needed, but not often enough to arouse suspicion. A few extra boxes of bandages, two extra bottles of aspirin. Rangers often overstock so they don’t have to drive hours into town every week. Plus, the time between each order.” He shrugged.
“I knew it,” Angela said, anger in her voice. She placed her hands on the edge of the table and pushed her seat back.
“Where are you going?”
“He needs to be questioned.”
Dyllon held up his hands. “Wait.”
“What?” she snapped.
“What do you think will happen if you question him now?”
Sighing, Angela leaned back in her chair. “Enlighten me.”
A brow rose. “He’ll lie.”
“I have ways of making people talk.”
“Do they always work?”
She wanted to say “yes,” she could be very persuasive, but the truth was that it seldom worked. It seemed the Renegades and members of the Resistance were extremely loyal. “Sometimes.”
“It’s your call, Detective, but I think we should watch him. Maybe he’ll lead us to their camp.”
Of course Dyllon was right; it’d be better to wait. Angela hoped the doctor would see things their way. She fished her cell from her bag, saying, “I have to report our progress.”
“Of course.”
Aalexis stood against the far wall in the rectangular, soundproof room, directly behind seven rifles. The long muzzles pointed toward the front of the room, but none were sighted on the black-silhouetted target hanging from a long cable. The alignments were off by a few degrees.
Dr. George Hirch held no doubt she’d be successful. Aalexis’ deadly ability lay concealed by platinum-blond hair cascading over her shoulders in beautiful ringlets and a cherub face, even if her façade remained as devoid of expression as her eyes.
George pushed the intercom button. “When I give the signal.”
“Yes, der Vater,” Aalexis responded in a monotone.
He checked the monitors one more time, then flipped the switch. A red light inside the room flashed, right before all seven rifles fired in sequence. In a blinding flare and seven loud pops, it was over. Whiffs of smoke extended from the muzzles and dissipated, and the sound of gunfire echoed into nothingness. Clicking sounded as the target moved toward the doctor’s booth.
As expected, every shot drilled right through the head. Seven distinct punctures in a perfect circle.
Aalexis was toying with him.
George glanced at the faux angel. His daughter remained statue-like, as if the experiment bored her. As if nothing challenged her anymore.
Still, she was a sight to behold. A beautiful sight. A memory Dr. Hirch would retain of how powerful his daughter was. His mighty creation, born from his genius. No other had accomplished such feats. He would lead humanity to perfection.
He was just beginning to test the limits of her powers. Of all of their powers.
She needed more of a challenge.
George picked up the handset and punched in a number.
“Engineering,” a soft female voice said.
“This is Dr. Hirch. I need seven more rifles set up in room seventeen.”
“Yes, Dr. Hirch. Right away.”
He hung up and pressed the intercom. “Aalexis, I want to conduct another test. Please wait patiently.”
For the first time since they’d entered the room, Aalexis acknowledged the doctor with more than words. She faced him. Fury flashed within the depths of her eyes, before the same glazed, monotonous guise returned.
“Yes, der Vater,” she replied. Her attention returned to the front of the room. She placed her hands behind her back in an at-ease stance.
George watched her warily, but nothing in her demeanor changed. Still as a statue, even when he buzzed the workers in with his requested items. Three men, wearing Center orange jumpers, wheeled in a cart weighed down with rifle cases and mounts. Without a word, they began assembling the tripods.
“Be sure to sight them off the target,” he said into the intercom.
One of the men waved his arm in acknowledgement.
As the final rifle was positioned, Leland strolled into the control booth. He glanced at Aalexis. “How’d she do?”
“As expected,” George answered without looking up. “Is Micah prepared to go?”
“Yes, but once again I would like to voice my protest.”
“Duly noted,” said the doctor without even glancing up.
“Sending him to Detective Petersen could be dangerous. We’re already missing one subject.”
Dr. Hirch’s spine stiffened. Leland was grating on his nerves. “We will bring her home.”
“We haven’t even finished the extraction of the genes. Not to mention the testing.”
George faced Leland. His assistant peered at him indignantly, his arms crossed over his chest. “Once again, Leland, you overstep your bounds,” he said, his tone sharp and unyielding.
The young man’s arms fell to his sides as he glanced away. “You’ve been taking unnecessary risks lately.”
“Micah is not in any danger. I am sending him to be a…special set of eyes. If there is a traitor, he can help. Now.” George turned toward the window and pointed. “Watch this.”