It occurred to Liz that she was now all alone on this floor with a man whom she did not know. Under most circumstances, that would not concern her. She carried a sidearm, after all, and had passed hand-to-hand combat training with more than adequate results.
But this was the Hell Hole, and it had a history of conjuring all manner of nightmares.
"A few years ago, I watched my wife die of cancer," he said. Twiste's words threw her completely off balance. "Understand, I'm a doctor. I saw the warning signs, took her for diagnosis, and found the best possible treatment for her. I'm no oncologist, but I knew enough to see what was coming."
"I'm sorry to hear that," she replied and shifted uneasily. Exactly why had this stranger sought her out to tell this story?
"Thom is a friend of mine, Colonel, and this mission has the same feel as my wife's cancer. There is not going to be a happy ending. I knew it with my wife and I spent months watching her die. This may be a little quicker, but it has the same feel."
"Oh," Thunder replied. Now she saw exactly where this was coming from. "I understand your concern, Captain."
"No, I don't think you do. Not at all. You see, I know you. I remember your name from a couple of years ago."
Her heart began to beat rapidly and a sick weight formed in her stomach.
"That's right, I know. Oh, not everything," he went on. "I was a consultant for the investigating committee. Not many doctors in the army with my level of clearance, so I drew one of the short straws. That's where I heard your name. That's why you were familiar to me. I just never met you in person."
She regained some mental balance and said, "Captain Twiste, you have not been granted permission to speak freely."
"I didn't ask."
Her eyes widened and she shot back, "This could be construed as insubordination."
Funny, Liz, weren't you just on the other end of this kind of conversation?
"Yes it could," he said, glaring at her. "But it doesn't matter. I've been around longer than you have, longer than Thom has. At this level, that type of threat doesn't mean much. Go ahead, haul me in, lock me in the stockade. Problem is, I'm the guy with the specialized training. I'm carrying the package in tomorrow, and I'll be going through that door no matter what I say to you."
"Okay then, Captain—"
"Doctor. I'm a doctor right now. Not some army robot."
"Okay, Doctor, why are you so willing to go on this mission then? If insubordination means nothing to you, refuse."
"Because then you'll find someone else to go in with Thom and the team; someone they won't know. At least I'll cover his back. You see, I'm not worried about myself. I'm older, and I've played this game for a long time. I was married, I have grown kids, and I even have a grandchild. If this is my last mission, then so be it."
"And Major Gant? You're doing this to protect him?"
"He's my friend, you understand? And he has a lot of unfinished business in his life. Like I said, I know you, Colonel. I know what you did. You pumped people full of drugs, put them through all kinds of warped experiments, and then watched to see what would happen."
The images burst through the mental dam she had erected over the last two years so hard it nearly hurt. Screams. Pleas. Injections. Isolation tanks. This regime produced no results? Well, then, up the dosage … or combine it with this compound.
"You were told to back off," Twiste continued, "but you didn’t. You stood there and watched people die. The worst part of it? It wasn't the blood that got you in trouble, was it? No, it was some sort of security breech. I don't know that story. I'll bet it was a good one."
She sucked in a deep breath and said, "What is your point, Doctor?"
"Point is, Thom Gant and his men better not be another patient you're sitting back and watching die just to find out what happens. I swear, if I find out that's the case then you better hope I die down there, too. Because I will march to every media outlet on Earth and will spill my guts about your experiments, about this place, about all the secrets locked in the containment cells back in California at Darwin. I hope I make myself clear."
"I don't take threats very well, Doctor." She had already been browbeat by Borman for trying to help, and now she was getting another dose and being blamed for the problem.
Enough.
She jabbed a finger at him.
"Now you listen to me, Captain. This mission isn't mine. My job is this base, this facility, and I just got onsite here a few days ago. I risked my ass taking Major Gant to a Tall Sciences complex a few miles north of here because I wanted to know more. I just got my ass chewed out by General Borman for asking too many questions."
Twiste backed off a step.
"You're right, I've got some royal fuckups on my resume and I've got to live with that. I'll be damned if I apologize to you for anything. You want to protect your friend? Well, get in line, because I've already tried. He refuses to listen. He's going to march right into the quarantine zone in the morning, knowing this is probably a one-way ticket. So you tell me, why would he do that?
Twiste did not have an answer.
In a softer tone she said, "He has that way about him, doesn't he? As soon as I met him, I knew this was someone I could rely on; someone who knows right from wrong."
"You'll find," Twiste said with his eyes drifting off, "that he has a strong sense of justice, even with the things he's had to do."
"Well, Captain, believe it or not, I'm not the bad guy here. Not this time. I've tried talking to Major Gant but he seems eager to march in like a good little robot. Maybe he'll listen to you."
He did not answer. Apparently her revelation had knocked him off balance. It seemed he had been sure of the devil, only to be mistaken.
Liz, however, was not ready to let it go. She stepped up to him and although he stood several inches taller, she seemed to dominate.
"One last thing, Captain. I don't care what you think you know or what kind of attitude you have. You think I was a coldhearted bitch a couple of years ago? Well you're right. I was that way because that's what the army wanted from me. But here it is … I'm done taking shit from people, especially subordinates. Go talk to Thom Gant; maybe you can help him. I hope so. But in the meantime, take the chip on your shoulder, the holier-than-thou attitude, and get out of my face."
Twiste hovered for a moment then retreated three paces. He cast his eyes around the hallway, first at each wall, then at the ceiling, and told her, "I'm glad you found a new home here, Lieutenant Colonel. But I'm hoping you don't find it as comfortable as your last one."
With that he turned and walked off, leaving her in control of the battlefield, but only after having inflicted a few wounds.
13
Gant tried to gauge the morale of his men as they filed out of the recreation room after a three-hour briefing. Certainly they were tired. It was late and they had just spent hours reviewing blueprints of the subterranean complex, including the stairways and elevator shafts that were designed to limit travel between the levels. As Franco pointed out, they would have to hump their asses back and forth from one end of each level to the other.
As for spirits, they were never a cocky bunch — at least not as a whole. There were never high fives or bouts of bravado, boasting of kicking ass and taking names. No, these were professional soldiers who understood that they handled the weirdest missions in all the world. Of course, Thom only hoped they would be staying in this world; it was quite possible that Briggs had smashed a hole into an entirely new plane of existence, or universe, or something.