“Apparently her accomplice had a car waiting for them. When my men gave chase, they crashed through the perimeter fence.”
“Let me guess—you’re calling because your men screwed things up?”
Silence hummed on the line, but Flynn waited, his impatience building.
“My men were concerned they’d get away,” Bloom said, his voice rising a bit as he tried to explain. “They were forced to shoot the accomplice.”
“He’s dead?”
“Yes.”
Flynn sighed. “I hope you’re calling to tell me that they were able to take our subject back into custody.”
Bloom sucked air. “Unfortunately not. She took off across the field, and in the dark my men were unable to find her.”
“Then at least reassure me that your men were able to sanitize the crash scene before the local authorities arrived.”
Another long pause.
“Well, they had time to wipe the car down,” Bloom said. “But a local farmer must have heard the commotion and came to investigate. They were forced to leave before removing the body.”
A searing heat churned in Flynn’s stomach. “Wonderful. And where is the test subject? Has she been found yet?”
“We know where she is, we just haven’t been able to take her back into custody yet. My men tell me that she’s inside the farmer’s house. Uh, the chief of police is there, too.”
“How cozy. Do we know if she’s been connected to the body or the car?”
“Not yet.” Bloom paused again. “We do, however, have a more serious problem.”
Flynn closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Of course there was a more serious problem. He couldn’t expect anything less. “Please, enlighten me.”
“Reports indicate that the subject doesn’t remember who she is.”
Flynn came up out of his seat, his fist hitting the center of his thick green desk blotter. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He glanced toward the door, concerned his roar might have drifted out through the steel door into the outer office. There was no knock on the door.
“She has amnesia—no memory of who she is or why she’s there. My man says that she has a small cut on her forehead. She might have fallen or hit the dashboard of the car. It’s possible the recent drugs and programming have added to make the injury a little more than a mild concussion.”
“It’s possible? What the hell am I paying you for if it’s not to give me answers, Doctor?” Flynn forced himself to take a deep, cleansing breath. Anger ripped through his veins, heating his face and neck. If he didn’t calm down, he’d have a coronary right here in the office and never live to see the changes he’d worked so hard to bring about.
“Are you still there, General?”
“Of course I’m still here, you idiot,” Flynn snapped. “Where is she now?”
“One of my new doctors—someone not connected to the project—is out at the farmhouse talking to her right now.”
“Are you insane?”
Silence met Flynn’s question.
“Get the unauthorized physician off the case immediately. Tell him you’re taking over. And while we’re on the subject, why the hell do you have someone not connected to the project working at the facility?”
“Ryan Donovan is an old student of mine. A brilliant researcher and clinician. He finally took me up on my offer to leave Boston and come help me with some of my research.”
“I don’t care if he’s the Albert Einstein of medical research. It’s too risky having him involved.”
“But Donovan has done some interesting research that dovetails perfectly with mine. There are no plans for him to be directly involved in the project. He’ll continue his research without any knowledge of what we’re doing.”
Flynn rubbed the side of his jaw, unable to quiet the rumblings of concern from shooting acid into his already aching stomach. “I don’t like this, Bloom. I don’t like it one bit. Get her back under lock and key, and then call me. I don’t plan on losing this window of opportunity because you can’t arrange for the proper amount of security.”
“I’ll get back to you in an hour or so. Everything is under control.”
Flynn snorted his disbelief. “If everything was under control she’d be in her room, and you’d be finishing up the final touches on her programming.” He slammed the phone down.
Less than a week to go before the test subject was scheduled to perform her duty and she’d taken off like a jackrabbit on speed.
Flynn sighed and got to his feet. Walking over to the window, he stared down at the river and clasped his hands behind his back. Things were starting to unravel.
Perhaps he needed to make a trip to Half Moon. To really check on his investment and see if there was still time to carry out his plans. After all, the decision to control the destiny of United States politics demanded one’s full and undivided attention.
Chapter Two
Tess lifted her fork and bit into the syrup-soaked pancake. Sweetness burst across her tongue, and she sat back to savor it. She hadn’t realized until that moment how truly hungry she was.
As she chewed, she tried hard to remember the last time she’d eaten. Nothing came. No memory of food or any other interesting tidbit about her life floated to the surface. What she felt was a total void.
She shifted slightly on the hardwood chair, thankful that Betty had found some clothes for her. Strange, but until the moment Betty had put an arm around her and ushered her into the tiny laundry room off the kitchen, Tess had no idea she was naked. It was if her mind had lost its ability to register anything about herself. As if she’d suddenly become this clean slate, aware of nothing.
The jeans Betty had given her were too big, and none of the belts Betty offered had fit her small waist. So, she’d been reduced to using a piece of clothesline to keep them from falling down around her knees.
The T-shirt, one with a logo of a giant combine and Mid-State Farm Equipment lettered across the pocket was long enough and boxy enough to serve as a dress. One side kept sliding down, baring one shoulder, and she had to keep hitching it up. But the clothes were soft, smelled freshly laundered and rested smooth as silk against her skin.
She took another bite and then glanced around, surprised to find everyone’s attention focused directly on her. Four pairs of eyes held the same questioning look, but Tess knew she didn’t have any of the answers.
Heck, she couldn’t even answer her own questions, and things didn’t get much scarier than that. She was totally lost. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remember anything other than her first name.
And even then, she wasn’t sure that was her name. It was simply the one that had popped into her head when Donovan had asked her for a name. But that sure didn’t mean it was the right one. She’d realized fairly quickly that no amount of trying to force the memories was going to help.
Even now, as she tried to pull something—anything—out of the confusion swirling around in her