Virtually His
Gennita Low
Chosen to be the ultimate secret operative, Helen Roston has become the most dangerous woman in the world.
Two years of training and she's now ready for the final phasea risky combination of virtual reality and a mind-altering serum. When her mysterious and faceless trainer syncs his mind to hers using the program, she's amazed at her sizzling response to his virtual touch. But Helen likes to be in control. She's not going to beg for more.
Helen's final test is a challenging mission, picked by the other government agencies whose candidates lost out to her. To succeed, she has to put herself completely in the hands of her trainer, a man she's not sure she can trust. But all of COS Command are counting on her. She cannot fail.
Gennita Low
VIrtually His
To Mother and Father
To Magic girl—Mom misses you every day
To Ranger Buddy, virtually bigger than life
To Stash, virtually mine
Contents
Acknowledgments
Author’s Note
Memo
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Coming Next Month
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My special thanks to Maria Hammon and Dee Clingman, who patiently read and reread my chapters. I’m sorry I kept the secret identity of the commando from you two! You are gems. Terima kasih!
Hugs and love to my agent, Elizabeth Trupin-Pulli, who always believes in me.
Thank you to my wonderful editor, Tracy Farrell, who shares in my vision of Super Soldier Spy.
Thank you also to these special groups of romance readers:
1) TDD Delphites, especially Karen King, J.P., Mirmie Caraway, Katherine Lazo, Cherry Bo Berry Adair, Kylie “Susan” Brant, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Sandy “Sadista” Still, who have been my lifeline and support all these years
2) RBL Romantica Romance readers, especially Leiha Ha and Jaycee, whose love for the romance genre is legendary
3) GLow World Yahoo Readers Group, always there to answer my questions.
All of you have a special place in my heart.
Author’s Note
In 1975, research into remote viewing was initiated at the request of the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) under a program called SCANATE (Scan By Coordinates). In 1978, after a series of successful tests, the Army Intelligence and Security Command (INSCOM) initiated a project called GRILLFLAME utilizing military personnel to perform as remote viewers. These projects morphed into STARBURST, and then STARGATE. In 1995, information about these activities was finally released by the CIA and the American Institutes for Research (AIR) prior to the projects’ termination.
According to current release of information, there are no further remote-viewing experimentations in the military or CIA.
Other resources of interest from the Internet:
www.oddcast.com/home/index.php?id=141
Memo
TOP SECRET—ABSOLUTE CODE RED NOT RELEASABLE TO FOREIGN NATIONAL
CC: Intelligence Security Command (INSCOM), Task Force Unit Chief for Operation; Los Alamos Task Force Unit Chief Scientist for Operation
; CIA Remote Viewing Sector Task Force Unit Chief for Operation SuperVision (SV); Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA) Asymmetrical Strategic Counterintelligence Warfare Task Force Unit Chief for Operation ; Armed Forces Medical Intelligence Center (AFMIC) Task Force Unit Chief Bio-Scientist for Operation Bio-Bot; COS COMMAND
The new century calls for new measures of defense and Intel gathering. By the President’s orders under the Homeland Security Act, all the operations above will be combined under one new operation to create a new weapon.
In the last decade, COS COMMAND’s V-Program has proven very successful in our infiltration and search/destroy operations. Our COS commando unit remains one of our elite teams.
Welcome to our new and improved: The Supersoldier-Spy.
The resources from tests from all departments listed above will be shared to create a total soldier-spy of body, mind and spirit. His body will be trained by the best in our defense branches—military and covert warfare. He will be chosen from the fittest among his peers within the groups known for their fighting spirit and skills.
Out of these, he must also fit the CIA phase requirement. Once we find this soldier, his mind will be put through the supercovert remote viewing (RV) program, a system that will teach him to see with an inner vision. He is expected to use this skill to overcome barriers that our chain of command might create.
The spirit of our superwarrior will be naturally strong and fearless, with these essentials enhanced by a top-secret biochemical serum, created and tested by our Intel scientists. Our different versions have shown that the use of it curbs emotions, especially in times of stress, thus enhancing willpower, clarity and determination during the mission. He will need less sleep, and feel less pain when injured.
This serum will be the unknown factor. It has been tried under varying conditions, never with a soldier capable of remote-viewing. Our goal is to use both to our advantage.
The test-candidate will be difficult to find, but the V-Project, with our nine commandos, has proven that we can achieve a higher level in our warrior training.
This supersoldier-spy will be our new covert weapon.
Who will be the first candidate?
Prologue
COVERT-SUBVERSIVE COMMAND CENTER (COS COMCEN)
Virginia
Good morning. After introductions and theory yesterday, I thought we’d meet in the most important place in your life for the next few months.
This is the CVR room. You’ll notice that it’s all gray. The color is like white noise to remote viewers, blocking out distractions and mental interference. Yes, Miss Roston, that means psychic interference as well as sophisticated spy detection devices. No, it isn’t one hundred percent foolproof.
You’ll each have a monitor, and both of you will be assigned a unit number. I’ve been told some of you will have a co-monitor who will remain anonymous for the time being. Your main monitor will guide you through your remote viewing experiences. Your secondary monitor will observe and check your progress through each level.
Remote Viewing Training Session Three
Each time you practice this relaxation technique, we’ll extend the theta waves so you’ll go deeper. Yes, Miss Roston, it’s similar to a hypnosis state. It’s more like self-hypnosis so no, we aren’t manipulating your actions. Miss Roston, you should address your cynical concerns to your monitors.
Remote Viewing Training Session Five
There are secrets to remote viewing. Your reaction and problem solving will be evaluated by your monitors. To pass your tests, here are a few simple things to remember. One, you have to learn to relax quickly, even if you’re a type A personality. Even if you’ve been out in a hot and sweaty traffic jam, once you enter this room, you should learn to put all that behind you without any trouble. The key is to think of watching a flower bloom, and become that flower.
Two, you have to think outside the norm. Your day-today solutions won’t work in remote viewing. The key is in trusting that you can locate a target from ideas, concepts and feelings. The key is in becoming an observer instead of a participant, and processing what you feel and think.
Three, you have to be able to reduce outside physical and sensory interference. Things are hooked up to you sometimes. You are constantly monitored. The key is in the ability to ignore your physical body and absorb what your mind sees as your reality. That way, you won’t need to walk miles around this room simply because you happen to be doing that in a remote viewing session.
I think those three points are the most important, although there are always more secrets. Yes, Miss Roston, we do have a secret handshake. That’s between you and your monitor.
Remote Viewing Training Session Seven
Remember, you are sensing your targets, more than seeing them. At first, anyway. For example, coming out from a dark cave into sudden sunshine won’t be an immediate knowledge. You’ll just suddenly sense brightness, and then you’ll sense coming out of some space. It is up to you to turn around and look behind you and make the deduction of where you are, i.e. coming out of a cave. This is what your monitor’s duty to you is—as an anchor and a guide. He can’t see what you see but the more you trust him to guide you, the more he’ll see through your eyes.
Yes, Miss Roston, we do use experienced remote viewers as monitors, too. The problem is, the monitor who is very talented becomes so involved with the target that he or she involuntarily starts remote viewing as well. Then you’re left on your own. Yes, it’d be nice if there was a way we could communicate what we see, but that’s still not possible yet. That’s why your drawings are important. I’m aware your artwork is terrible, Miss Roston.
Remote Viewing Training Session Eight
Bilocation is your phantom body, so to speak. When you first bilocate, you’ll feel like you’re falling at a rapid pace. Or a stumbling sensation, as if you’d spent the previous night drinking too much.
Concentrate on your senses. We’ll teach you how to isolate one at a time so you don’t get confused. Inexperienced beginners have a difficult time adjusting and figuring out where they are. For example, we’d send them to Mount Fuji and even after several promptings to describe their sensations, they couldn’t deduce that they were on a snowy mountain.
You’re correct, Miss Roston, in focusing on the cold first, since that’s the obvious first sensation, to discover the source. That’s a good start.
Are we ready? Please sign the Human UseAgreement Form in front of you. Please read the part stating that you understand that you’re participating in an experimental program using humans, and that you’ll not hold the federal government responsible for any damage that might occur.
Remote Viewing Training Session Nine
This first exercise has to do with diversion from fixation on one’s body. Look into the mirror and study the reflection, including yourself. The object is to trigger the mind into “observation mode.” You’re essentially looking at a 2-D visual reflection of a multidimensional environment, thus making it easier for your mind to digest and process the needed information.
No, Miss Roston, I’m not saying you can’t trust your senses. That’s another exercise. Remote viewing is all about point of view, just like witnesses to an accident. We’ll work on point of view first. In other words, the “observation mode” enables you to filter out overwhelming sensations and interruptive perception. Now, each of you report to your monitor what you observed in the mirror.
Remote Viewing Training Session Ten
I’ll pound this into you all at every stage of our lessons. In remote viewing, the most important element is noncontamination of the remote viewer. Our Intel must be as objective as possible. That’s why we use multiple remote viewers who do not work together because we want to analyze and compare all the Intel given by them and not be worried about possible corruption.
Who decides the physical target? Someone not directly associated with the remote viewing process. He decides the target pool and has no contact with any of the remote viewing process. To preclude contamination and possible sensory leakage, a middle person is usually used between the person who runs the pool and the viewer.
There are various ways to reach a target. The novice remote viewer acts on the information in an isolated envelope, sometimes with coordinates. You’ll find that, as you progress, you won’t need that anymore. Sometimes an Outbounder, a physical presence at the target, is all you need. This is usually for very complicated targets.
Contamination of data happens easily. A monitor who asks too many questions or pushes a remote viewer too quickly can destroy a whole operation. No, Miss Roston, we don’t send remote viewers to the physical site after the collection of Intel. One, you’ll be too out of it, physically and mentally. Two, you aren’t trained to handle certain aspects of that Intel. Oh, yes, I do know what you all are being trained to do. It remains to be seen whether you can do it, doesn’t it?
Remote Viewing Training Session Eleven
I realize you’re experienced in combat training, so your belief system has been honed to rely on what is around you in the physical world, and the rules and restrictions around that. In remote viewing, there are no particular rules and restrictions. You can say that your conscious mind is delving into your unconscious mind for information and at each level, you’re tapping deeper. You’re “out there” in the ether, but you’re actually also relying on “in here,” whatever your belief system is—in the brain, in the mind, in your soul, in your head.
The level each of you can achieve depends on your belief system and your ability to get past what might be uncomfortable for you. Some of you won’t be able to do it and there’s nothing wrong with that. Forcing yourself won’t help at all; in fact, it will just make things worse. I’ve seen this happen in trainees too eager to please.
Now, the first simple step in talking about the unconscious mind is, perhaps, agreeing that there is a subconscious state of mind. Show of hands? For example, we’ve all done lucid dreaming at one point or another in our lives, finding ourselves in a dream and being aware of it, yes?
We have attempted to get the individual mind to do this at will, but so far, we haven’t had much success. Usually, the moment the individual realizes he’s dreaming, he wakes up, and loses control of whatever situation he’s been in.
Yes, Miss Roston, I would call lucid dreaming a sort of simple remote viewing, like a question-and-answer session between conscious and unconscious states. How interesting that you think it’s more than that. Maybe you’re in the wrong experiment.
Remote Viewing Training Session Thirteen
Please read the 1990 Report given by Science Applications International Corporation (SAIC). The organization sent an agency to test out a task for a certain remote viewing program. The task was specifically this: could an agent in the field be tracked through remote viewing, and was it possible to target what that agent might be doing? You will find the agency’s conclusions at the end of the report. I’ll give you a hint, Miss Roston. We received a special funding bonus in 1991.
Remote Viewing Training Session Fourteen
This partial quote hangs on the wall of The Monroe Institute in Virginia where we’re going for a visit this afternoon:
“I am more than my physical body. Because I am more than physical matter, I can perceive that which is greater than the physical world. Therefore, in these exercises, I deeply desire to Expand, to Experience; to Know, to Understand; to Control, to Use such greater energies and energy system as may be beneficial and constructive to me and those who follow me.”
You’ll learn today that there are many different techniques in achieving remote viewing and that there are other agencies besides ours who are actively working on their own programs. Yes, Miss Roston, we share some of our findings with them. Yes, Miss Roston, some being the relevant word here.
Remote Viewing Training Session Fifteen
We like to reword some popular sayings here. Today’s phrase is: Can’t see the trees for the forest. In remote viewing, you depend on your senses, but overstimulation can cause the viewer to lose sight of the target tree. That’s why we allow no stimulants in your system as your mind and body learn to let go. An experienced remote viewer can bilocate with stimulants present in his or her system, but always remember, something new will always affect the senses, i.e. the forest. To counter that, you, as a remote viewer, have to learn to control your emotional environment. There are different exercises you can learn to overcome the times that you feel yourself losing control and getting lost in the “forest.” I’ve read your file, Miss Roston. We’ll start with something simple for you; no coffee for a few weeks. I see nothing humorous regarding your comments, but yes, sex provides chemical stimulants in your brain, too.
Remote Viewing Training Session Seventeen
In remote viewing, we train you to consciously move your brain into theta waves. Most of you are familiar with terms such as “higher state of consciousness” or “altered state.” You’ll have to work through your belief system to achieve this goal.
Once you’ve crossed this hurdle, you’ll find it easier to go into RV mode. An experienced remote viewer can remote view without outside manipulation at all.
In summary, there are four brain wave states that range from the high-amplitude, low-frequency delta to the low-amplitude, high-frequency beta. These brain wave states are common to the human species. Men, women and children of all ages experience the same characteristic brain waves. They are consistent across cultures and country boundaries.
Yes, Miss Roston, you can synchronize brain waves during sleep. It has been done successfully to induce group meditative states. No, remote viewing is strictly done alone, so we won’t be going out and having “fun together.” Sorry to disappoint you.
One
COVERT-SUBVERSIVE COMMAND CENTER
(COS COMCEN)
Virginia
Did he really want this assignment? He was used to being asked to seduce, but never one of their own, and agreeing to do so would mean getting closer than a regular monitor and trainer. His fingers tapped on the well-used dictionary on the small table next to him. The word for the day was quintessence.
How appropriate.
Here at COMCEN, the quintessential element uniting all its operatives was danger. He’d perhaps been here too long, because now they wanted him to train the newcomer. Not just any newcomer.
If situations were assigned as some form of karma, there was no question that danger was his. He thrived on it, not out of necessity, but because it was what was natural to him. Danger called to him and he’d always answered.
And by design, if there was karma, then it always came to him in the form of dangerous women. Poetic justice, he supposed. Everyone had a weakness. He was one of the fortunate few who knew exactly what his weakness was. He again looked at the woman on the screen.
There was something enticing about a dangerous woman. He should know. He’d been married to one. He understood his inclination for them very well. They had the aura of toughness that he admired—and enjoyed stripping down. Their strength, intimidating to some men, was both sexy and challenging at the same time. It added an extra kick, knowing that the woman he was bedding might kill him in bed. It must be that poetic justice thing again, the secret wish to die while fucking around with danger.
His lips curled mockingly at the thought as he continued studying the screen in front of him. How could a woman everyone called Hell be anything but dangerous in and out of bed?
And he knew instinctively that sooner or later, he would be inside her. His eyes followed her movements, catlike and sure, as she went through her morning exercises. Even in a controlled environment, there was something untamed in the way she threw herself into the training. Wildcat. If they even made it into bed.
From the beginning, his reaction to her had been visceral. Any normal male’s would have been. After all, he’d watched her in training for months, watched her eat, sleep, drink, watched her take her clothes off whenever she went swimming in the pool. She didn’t like to swim with any clothes on, and he’d enjoyed those sessions, knowing that it was partly voyeuristic, partly because he knew she knew someone was watching her. Mostly, it was because of all the candidates, she had won. A woman who’d beaten out a bunch of men in mental and physical war games. He already knew that all the male operatives at COMCEN were curious about her.
She’d started her nude swimming innocently enough, and he’d enjoyed the undisguised pleasure of a woman comfortable with her body. He hadn’t forgotten that first time. Her hands carelessly unzipping her pants. Her long, long legs kicking them aside. And she’d looked at the warm water and a small smile had spread out, a glimmer of sheer abandon that had pulled at something inside him.
It’d caught him by surprise, that emotional tug. He wasn’t usually so easily moved. He’d had to stop himself from leaning forward, closer, as he continued taking in the sight of her slipping off her underwear.
He recalled that moment even now. She was impatient, as if she couldn’t wait to be free of the restrictions of clothing. He was equally impatient, too, in that male sort of way that was also restricted by clothing.
Her lightly-tanned body was surprisingly feminine for someone who’d gone through so much training. He’d caught a few seconds of soft feminine curves before she’d dove into the water. She’d surfaced with a small sigh of delight, sweeping her hair out of her face. Pure unadulterated delight. And that smile…he’d dreamed of that smile that night. He’d known it wouldn’t be there as soon as she figured out that there were always cameras at COMCEN.
The day had come. He’d felt the difference immediately. It was in the way she stripped her clothes, in the furtive motion of her eyes trying to find the camera eye. The interesting thing was, it hadn’t stopped her from continuing to swim naked. She did another unexpectedly interesting thing. She hadn’t gone to Kirkland, her medical advisor, or her any of her trainers. Instead, she’d asked the interactive supercomputer at COMCEN. He’d listened in to the conversation with interest.
“Hey, Eight Ball, am I being watched at this moment?” she’d asked aloud. “Besides by you, I mean.”
“Yes, Hell.”
“By how many people?”
He’d authorized certain information to be released. “One, Hell,” the computer had replied.
“Man or woman?”
“Man.”
“Is he my trainer, the one who’s been watching my workout every day?”
That question had amused him. He should’ve known she wouldn’t have bought into Kirkland’s explanation about it being standard procedure since she was now going into a new phase. She was smart enough to figure out that they had tapes and records of all her training since day one, so her asking now was for someone’s benefit. His.
“Sort of.”
“What do you mean, sort of? What kind of computer are you anyway? Computers don’t say sort of, don’t you know that? It’s either positive or negative.”
But Eight Ball, short for “Magic Eight Ball,” a prediction-through-computation program, was a different kind of computer. His programmer wasn’t averse to adding odd little programs that gave his creation a unique personality. The result was a computer that frequently mixed up its language usage between that of a surfer and a robot.
“It’s neither positive nor negative as of now, Hell. So…sort of, dude.”
“Where’s the camera?”
“I have not been authorized to tell you, dude. Do you have the password for information access?”
“For a computer that’s supposed to be way cool, you suck, Eight Ball.”
He’d laughed at her reaction. But since that day, that smile had disappeared. He’d kind of missed it, except that it was now replaced by a different kind of smile. A knowing, dangerous curve of those shapely lips, as if she were challenging him to show himself. She was, after all, a GEM operative; like all the female operatives in her elite independent agency, she knew how to get a man’s attention, even if she couldn’t see it.
If it was male reaction she was going after, he had plenty on his end. A naked dangerous woman like her didn’t get angry. She got even. Even though she couldn’t see it for herself, there was now a mockery in her eyes and her smile that told him she knew. Any normal man watching her slow taunting movements would combust from the heat.
But normal wasn’t a word usually associated with him. Ice water flowed in his veins. Women had accused him of having a lump of ice for a heart. He had wondered, sometimes, if maybe he’d forgotten what love was. So before they’d even met, they now played a game.
He kept watching, assessing how he could push this woman out of her comfort zone. She kept fighting him with a nonchalance that was targeted to make him feel male discomfort.
It had been a long time since he’d reacted to someone so strongly and thoroughly.
Not that he didn’t like women. Just mostly the dangerous kind. He sat very still as he watched the woman wrap her lithe body around the dangling chain, her hands looking small in contrast to the thick links. She pulled, testing it, her head cocked slightly as she looked up at her target.
Elena Rostova, GEM operative, now working for COS Command. Although others called her Hell, and she preferred to be called Helen, Elena suited her. There was something about her….
It must be that challenge thing again. His instinct told him that the lady had something to hide. But then, didn’t every operative? He had quite a few secrets himself, things that he preferred not to share with anyone. He respected an operative who kept certain things to himself because one who blindly followed orders and told every single detail exactly as it happened, like the perfect little soldier, could be very dangerous to him and his team.
His eyes narrowed slightly. Therein lay the problem, didn’t it? He watched Elena’s graceful body as she attacked her routine. The perfect soldier-spy. Every agency had been looking for one, training dozens and experimenting on countless others to find the perfect combination of traits. Someone high up on the covert chain had managed to convince different agencies to train special candidates, even as they sweetened the deal by giving them extra funds for which to compete. It didn’t matter. There were limited bodies to get to the finish line.
“Quintessence,” he murmured. He liked opening the dictionary randomly every morning to pick out the word for the day. Uncanny, how it fit. COMCEN wanted a supersoldier-spy, contracting the best available inde-operative from their new partner, GEM. Elena Rostova was very good at many other things besides soldiering. Supersoldier-spy. The quintessential dangerous woman.
And she was his. At least, he amended, for a while. Then, like all of them, she would go and do her job. Because she wasn’t just going to be a supersoldier.
In the end, COMCEN’s candidate had won the big prize, and to all intents and purposes, Elena Rostova was his to mold. She didn’t know that yet, of course. She’d been given the usual need-to-know-only information and she had apparently followed her contract to a T, so far. Well-paid for it, too, and now, very, very well trained. But a woman didn’t give up two years of her life just to train herself for an experiment. No, she definitely had something else she was keeping to herself. Knowing that pushed away some of his reservations a little. He didn’t want to be part of a program where the candidate was just an obedient contract employee out to make money.
She was an attractive woman—some might say exotic—with a natural strength and grace that showed in the way she used her body. From the different tests given, she’d shown that she wasn’t afraid of taking risks, almost foolhardy sometimes, but her report cards from various trainers before him sang nothing but praises. And these were from men he knew were very difficult to train under.
Having seen her on tape and close-up, he had no doubts about her extraordinary skills. Once he agreed to include himself as part of this experiment, they would find out for sure how good she was because he would be there to watch her. Not just physically, but mentally.
That was why he’d been watching her. Wanting a dangerous woman was one thing; agreeing to do dangerous things with her was another. And this coming experiment would mean he’d be a lot closer to this woman than he’d ever been with any other.
And watching her had become…a habit. The physical package alone would tempt a man, but he’d found himself wanting access to her mind, to know her as intimately as he knew how she liked to nudge one of her hands between her legs when she slept.
He’d seen her in action with other trainers; he knew her capabilities. Yet, there were moments when she’d let down her guard, when she’d thought no one was watching. He’d seen that look in her eyes, and had wondered what’d put it there.
And COMCEN—damn its knowing think tanks, always measuring and calculating—was waiting patiently, letting him walk into this himself. They hadn’t had him all these years without knowing a little about how his mind worked.
He watched as she climbed at a slow and controlled pace that showed the physical fitness some of the best from Special Forces had honed into her. The length of the chain extended for nearly thirty meters from ceiling to floor and she was halfway there already. He glanced at the stopwatch on top of the screen. She must be going for a personal record today.
He’d never seen a woman with such an intense need to succeed. There was something personal in this contract for her and it was the driving force that had motivated her from day one.
So there was a woman inside that trained body, even though she had kept it well-hidden for these two years. Smart, very smart. And his intrigue grew.
He tapped on the communication pad next to his hand. “Put Elena through Test Alpha.”
“Helen, darling. She prefers to be called Helen.” The low, distinctive voice belonging to GEM’s chief came through the intercom. “And if she passes?”
His gaze left the screen for a second. He hadn’t expected T. to be on the other end. These days she very seldom showed up at COMCEN. They must really want him to sign on to the experiment to bring her in. “Then I’m one step closer to being convinced to be Elena’s monitor,” he said, his attention returning to the subject matter.
“She’s passed every test so far,” T. noted, her amusement at his soft emphasis apparent.
“So what’s a few more?” he asked. Elena Ekaterina Rostova definitely sounded more dangerous than Helen Roston.
“They think you have apprehension.”
“Yes, do calm my fears, T.,” he said dryly. “I’m quaking in my shoes.”
T.’s laughter was husky. “Darling, that’d be the day. I’ll initiate Test Alpha tomorrow.”
“No,” he said. “Now.”
“She’s already overexerted.”
“Exactly how I want her.” He was going to do a lot more than overexert her. And because he knew it would heighten his own sense of awareness, he didn’t want to allow her to take her usual naked swim. It would fuel his part in Test Alpha. “Now, T.”
“Anything to make you happy, darling. That was what they said to me.”
“Go mess with someone else’s mind. We’ll talk later,” he said, and tapped the button to turn the intercom off.
Elena continued her climb to the top, the gleam of perspiration coating her smooth tanned flesh, then gave an exultant hoot of satisfaction as she hauled herself onto the small ledge at the top. Hands on hips, she looked down from her height, her face glowing with the intensity born from adrenaline and exhaustion.
And that was why there was little room to fail. Her fierce competitiveness wouldn’t allow it. Besides, he had no intention of losing this wildcat.
A small, mocking smile played on his lips. Funny. That almost sounded like he was making it personal himself.
Hers had never been the easy way. Helen Roston was of the opinion that if she had to make a lot of money quickly by selling her body, she might as well do it training to be the world’s next mega-soldier-whatever. Which was about the hardest possible way to make a living but—she grinned wryly—at least her body would look good if she died from overtraining.
Her body being the operative concept here. After all, there was no guarantee that she would come out of this alive. Oh well, Enrique had always accused her of having a death wish. Hellacious, he’d called her choice of living on the streets alone. He was learning English because the American dollar was strong and American tourists were easy victims. So “Hell” she had been called ever since. Russians loved nicknames, and it wasn’t long before everyone on the street knew her by that name.
She hadn’t been able to resist the contract, though. After reading the questionnaire, she’d seriously considered it for a month before she’d shrugged and answered “yes” to all the questions and then made an appointment to see the director. What harm was there to enhance one’s special abilities? Blame it on her being an orphan. There were always those constant niggling questions at the back of her mind about her background. Once and for all, she would be able to find out exactly how special she was. No more questions. Or unanswered dreams.
A lot of money would get her out of GEM quicker and she could…She shrugged. She hadn’t quite decided what she could do yet. But once she bought out her contract with them, she would feel a whole lot better.
Not that they were difficult to work for. Far from it. GEM had given her a life an orphan girl from the Russian ghetto could only dream about, had given her the means to be somebody, but she didn’t want to spend twenty, thirty years of her life playing spy games, or being a contracted liaison between agencies, or running different lives under different aliases. There had to be more to life than that.
She wasn’t made to live within a group anyway. Even when she was a wild child on the street, she’d refused to run with the gangs. She preferred to take care of herself, thank you very much. She wasn’t going to succumb to any of those boys asking for the usual nasty payments, so she had to learn to fight hard and run harder, because she didn’t always win.
Ha, if they could see me now. Helen grinned at the ridiculousness of the old Broadway song running in her head. What she was being asked to do was show business of a sort, wasn’t it? So the song was appropriate.
Everyone wanted to see her, actually. It had been almost two years of training and now everyone wanted to see what she had become.
She wiped the perspiration off with a towel. What had she become? She asked herself that question quite a bit and had no real answer. She’d come close to a personal revelation the other night. She’d woken up in the middle of one of her too-darn-vivid dreams, sat up, and declared quietly to no one in particular, “I’m very close to being.”
It was one of those profound moments one couldn’t quite grasp, especially when one jolted up in bed suddenly. But Helen knew it meant something. She always had that voice-in-the-head thing that came out of nowhere, when something important was coming.
That was one of the reasons why she had been chosen for this project, of course. Having what they called psi—or strong intuitive abilities—was a definite plus. She didn’t care what they called it. Voice in the head. Psychic blah-blah. Intuition. That voice had saved her life a few times. She had explained to the CIA department that she wasn’t one of those people who communicated with some other presence or had any kind of power to; she just sometimes heard a warning or made a really good guess. Whatever. The CIA white coats seemed to have accepted her half-truth. She hadn’t told them about her dreams, but then, they hadn’t asked. Never tell them everything, that was her motto.
She was looking forward to her dip in the pool, more so than usual. That climb up the chain had tested her endurance and her muscles were pleasantly aching. A quick relaxing swim would make sure she didn’t cramp up later.
“Agent Roston, go to Chamber Two.”
Helen frowned at the electronic voice instructing her from the intercom. She walked over and activated the speaker. “Why?” Her training had stayed on the same schedule these last few months. “What’s there?”
“I’m just delivering the orders, Hell. Get your pretty ass over there.”
Helen chuckled. It was funny to hear a computer using her nickname with such familiarity. “If you weren’t a computer, Eight Ball, I’d find you and kick yours.”
Eight Ball was COMCEN’s computer. His programmer had given his mother program its own choice for personality and gender in certain communications feedback. For some weird reason, the computer had taken up a surfer’s easy laid-back drawl, although it tended to trip itself up while trying out surfer lingo. Eight Ball, she suspected, was another open-ended experiment on the loose in this place.
“If I had an ass, Fly Boy would say ‘go for it, dude!’” The computer mimicked the commando’s voice to perfection. “Chamber Two in twelve minutes, over and out.”
Helen frowned again. She didn’t have much time. She’d just have to go wearing her sweaty leotard and tights. At a sprint.
She dropped the towel, punched the buttons on the panel, and slipped out of the training area while the door was still sliding open. No time for the elevator. Chamber Two was three flights up. Trust them to pick a place that required climbing up instead of running down.
She pushed the door to the stairwell and starting running two and three steps at a time. She paused at the landing, taking a quick moment to flick her bangs away from her eyes.
“Test,” that voice in her head warned.
Her awareness immediately turned rapier-sharp. She pushed open the exit door that led into the corridors. She didn’t sense any danger around the corner. She didn’t think they were planning to kill her, not after investing all that time and money, but she couldn’t ignore that warning in her head either.
“Test.” The repetition was even more urgent now.
“They do that all the time, so what’s so different about this test?” she muttered. Realization came like sudden daylight. They weren’t testing her this time. Someone was. Maybe it was him.
The corridor was dead silent and she knocked on Chamber Two. An envelope was stuck on it, with her name, Elena Rostova, written in bold font, along with Do Not Open. She raised her brows. Very few people used her real name. She peeled it off the metal. The door swished open. There was no light coming from within.
“Games, games, games,” Helen murmured and stepped inside. The door behind her sealed shut and it was pitch-black in the room. Every one of her senses reached out into the darkness.
“Walk ten paces forward,” a voice said from all around her.
Sen-surround sound. “Do I get to turn and shoot?” Helen joked. Excitement roiled in the pit of her stomach. It had to be him talking to her.
“No. Ten paces forward, Elena.”
She obeyed, counting aloud. It was unbelievably dark in there. She stopped when she encountered something with her feet. A thickly-padded mat. She stepped onto it and finished her count. “Now what?” she asked when she was done.
“Open the envelope.”
She carefully did so. “This isn’t easy in the dark, you know,” she complained. “There’s nothing inside.”
“You’re expecting a note. Never assume anything in here.”
She wished she could see the person talking to her. The voice was a projected echo, deliberately masking any recognizable tone. She slipped her finger into the envelope and felt something.
“It’s small. Roundish. Too small to be a button,” she said.
“It’s a pill. Take it.”
Her mouth fell open. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“It won’t kill you.”
She could have sworn she detected mockery, even with that amplified resonance. She looked around in the darkness. Not that she could see anything. “Look, this is getting irritating. Why am I in the dark and why must I take a drug?”
“It’s part of your training.”
“Usually, I’m given a set of instructions and my instructor tells me what’s going to happen,” she said. But she’d known this new instructor wasn’t going to be anything usual. He’d been watching her nonstop since her arrival. She’d felt him. He was everywhere. Funny thing was, she’d been more intrigued by the game than outraged at the lack of privacy.
“I see. Tell me, when you’re playing operative in the real world, do you have someone telling you what’s going to happen next?”
Helen narrowed her eyes, feeling just a twinge of impatience rising. “Training, I said.” She pivoted around. “I’m not taking any drugs unless it’s the serum that’s specified in the contract. This pill isn’t it, is it?”
“You won’t know till you try it. And in case you’re wondering, yes, I’m your instructor and yes, this is a training session. Take the pill, Elena. As specified in your contract, you’ll let your instructor direct you as he or she sees fit.”
“Within reason,” Helen argued. She’d added that part to the clause herself. “Tell me. If I take this, what’s going to happen to me? Besides not dying, I mean.”
“First you will fall unconscious.”
Her whole body went taut. “What? No f—”
“Then you’ll wake up in fifteen minutes. You’ll find that you can’t move your body. Certain parts of you will feel nothing. You’ll stay paralyzed for the duration of the session.”
In the two years of her training, even through medical tests, no one had given her any drugs to render her unconscious. She’d been extra careful to establish a mental block when working with the CIA; she didn’t trust them or their tendency to hypnotize certain subjects.
She rolled the pill between her thumb and forefinger. Why now? What did he want to do to her?
“Fighting what you can see is easy, Elena. It’s fighting what you can’t see that will be your ultimate challenge. Remember what’s coming up. A dose of the serum is just like fighting what you can’t see, isn’t it?” A tiny pause. “I can’t force you to take the pill, but you’ll be putting potentially more harmful drugs into your system. This one, I can guarantee you, is a common drug that I know to have very few side effects.”
Helen laughed incredulously. “I’m supposed to take your word for it,” she remarked.
Silence.
Whoever her instructor was, he was waiting.
She rolled the pill again, her thoughts going a hundred miles an hour. Test, that stupid voice in her head had said. He was testing her for something entirely different from her previous trainers. She chewed on her lower lip for a second, then, before she changed her mind, she popped it into her mouth and swallowed.
“Count from ten backwards when I tell you to.”
Helen noted that he didn’t seem to have any problems seeing her in this darkness. Special glasses with image-intensifier? But if so, he still wouldn’t be able to tell whether she had taken the pill. Her eyes searched the darkness. Where was he?
After a few minutes, he ordered, “Start counting.”
She turned around as she counted. “Ten, nine, eight…” There was just nothing to see, not even a hint of light anywhere. “Seven, six…” She had to stop moving. Could darkness spin? It felt like the darkness was swirling all around her. “Five, four…” She couldn’t feel her feet. “Shit…” She fell forward. So that was what the mattress was for, was her last thought.
Her eyes flew open. It was still that darkness but she felt strange. She tried moving but she couldn’t feel her body and she couldn’t see. She didn’t like this one bit. No reason to panic yet. He told her that she wasn’t going to be able to move, but she could feel a warm body against her. A very warm male body.
“What’s happening?” she asked. At least she could talk. “I feel funny.”
No answer. She could feel her vision swaying, like something was moving really fast around her. It suddenly occurred to her that she was being carried. And that she was upside down because her hair kept getting in her mouth when she tried to talk.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, spitting her hair out. “Answer me, dammit.”
Whoever it was seemed to be going faster and faster, until she grew dizzy. He couldn’t possibly go that long. Where the hell was she? No longer in the room, for sure, but why couldn’t she see anything? She could make out shadows now—light and dark shades of blackness. There were strange smells, like foliage and the outdoors, then the scent of clean laundry, then of burning wood, then of salty air. She frowned, totally confused, because she couldn’t see any forest or fire or anything that could give her any clues to her location.
She felt that floating sensation again and from the change of shadows, she could tell that her body was sliding off his as he swung her around. She stared up, trying to see who this stranger was, but it was that odd shadowy shape again.
He should be panting from that long run but she couldn’t hear him breathe at all. Suddenly, he jerked around and there were armed men all around him.
She could only watch in horror as they shot him and his body slid away from her view. She couldn’t help him! She gritted her teeth and tried to move but it was no use. She was totally at their mercy.
They surrounded her. She could hear them now—male grunts and cursing. She gulped in air as they pulled at her body. She could feel them pulling her legs apart….
She bit down on her lower lip. She wouldn’t scream. She wouldn’t panic. She was going to find a way out of this. If she could only see—
The noise around her was jumbled, as if she was standing in a very crowded room. She breathed in as someone started a fight and everyone around her, including her attackers, became involved. The shadows made everything even more confusing since she couldn’t tell who was hitting whom. But she smelt the blood, heard screams of pain, saw bodies falling around her.
And there was nothing she could do.
There’re too many bodies. Just too many people. Those screams.
“Shut up!” she yelled out.
All of a sudden, there was silence. A lone figure climbed on top of her. It was him. She recognized the shape of his body. For some reason she recognized his scent.
“I thought you died,” she whispered. Where did everyone go? And why couldn’t she feel the danger?
She felt his hands on her useless body, felt his hands on her thighs as he slowly parted her numb legs.
Helen squeezed her eyes shut. She must be mistaken. She’d thought—wait, maybe something happened in the dark room and someone took her while she was unconscious. Maybe her kidnapper was a hostile, too.
She let out a hiss of outrage as his hands intimately slid up her inner thigh, then up her rib cage, across her breasts. She was going to kill him when this drug wore off. She was going to tear his hands off first. A thumb caressed her lower lip for a second.
He kissed her on the mouth, his lips moving over hers lazily, as if he had all the time he wanted. She gave an outraged gurgle at the back of her throat when he nudged her lips apart and swept his tongue inside, engaging her in intimate play. She could feel his tongue exploring hers, not like a rapist, but like a lover, coaxing and playful. Blinding fury welled up as she tried her damnedest to turn her head but it was useless. Her mouth was his toy, muffling her curses.
It was the longest kiss she’d ever shared and it was sharing. There wasn’t much she could do when she still couldn’t shake her head free and her mouth was open for him to taste. Their tongues tangled silkily, seductively, as he controlled the pace, opening her wider, till she found herself growing breathless from trying to speak and move at the same time.
He likes your mouth.
Oh great. Now her warning voice was also analyzing kissing techniques. And why was her heart beating so erratically? She was shocked to find that her eyes had closed…She forced them open, blinking rapidly. She was not getting turned on by this man. No matter how good his kissing technique was!
He finally released her and she heard herself gasping for breath. His shadow moved over her, his hand deliberately cupping her breast.
“I’ll kill you if you touch me,” Helen managed to say through what felt like swollen lips.
She heard the front zipper sliding. She felt the coolness of the air on her bare flesh. He pulled the front halves of her shirt apart and she could feel his knuckles grazing her naked breasts. Her heart galloped like she was having a heart attack.
Wait a minute, wait a minute! Something’s not right. I was wearing a leotard with no front zipper. I was wearing a bra.
Test. Suddenly everything fell together like a well-designed puzzle.
Test. No sense of danger. The drug. All the different smells and sounds. Nothing solid…just tactile. They weren’t testing her physically. Everything was a mental test.
“This isn’t real,” she declared firmly and loudly. “I was wearing a bra in a tight leotard with no zipper. I’m not half-naked. Game over! Now let me see you, you fucking bastard!”
The next time she was faced with a tiny pill, she was ready.
“You know what to do with it.”
Helen shook her head. “I’m not taking it.”
“Why not?” His voice, even electronically enhanced, was soft, persuasive. “Are you afraid?”
“Of course not.” She wasn’t. She just didn’t like the feeling of being helpless. “I already know what you’re trying to achieve. You want me totally in your control. You want me afraid, or are trying to make me afraid. Am I right or wrong?”
“Somewhat, Elena. If I ask you to take off your clothes now, would you?”
She cocked her head in the dark. “No.”
“Why not? It’s totally dark in the CAVE and I promise it won’t hurt.”
“Look, I know what you’re trying to do,” Helen said, exasperated now. “It isn’t working. You’re trying to find chinks in my psyche and I’ve been trained to resist. You aren’t going to win.”
“But why are you resisting your trainer? Wouldn’t it be simpler to go along with it, knowing what I’m going to do, and then following through with today’s training lesson? Why the need to tell me that you aren’t going to lose? Or, are you just afraid, Elena, that you will lose?”
Oh, he was good. Whoever her new trainer was, he definitely wasn’t just some Special Forces guy or CIA shrink trying to beat her into shape mentally or physically. This man was trying to figure her out by pushing her sexual buttons. The thing was, she couldn’t figure out why he was doing it…yet. It’d only been a couple of weeks, but already he’d challenged her more than any of her other trainers, both physically and mentally.
“Okay, fine.” She popped the pill into her mouth, crushed it between her teeth because she was that pissed off. She wanted to taste its bitterness. “I’m not going to be very happy if you start taking my clothes off again when I wake up. I’m tired of it. That’s a warning.”
“Then I’ll make sure they’re already off before you wake up.”
“You…” She didn’t even have time to finish cursing him, falling forward as the world spun into darkness.
When Helen came to, she didn’t say anything, using the time to figure out what he was trying to do. Again, she couldn’t see the person carrying her. This time, she was in his arms, the way a man carried a lover, and he was walking slowly. She heard the lapping of water. Splashing at his feet. He kept walking.
She knew it was useless but she still tried to move. She really, really hated this feeling. She felt the water touching her bare buttocks. She gasped—both from the cold water and her outrage that she was indeed “naked”—as he took both of them deeper into the water.
“I’m so going to kill you,” she said between her teeth. “I told you not…”
She gasped again as he let go of her. She sank, water getting into her mouth. She couldn’t move; she was going to drown.
This isn’t real. This isn’t real! You got to keep your head! She realized now that he’d purposely done the one thing he knew would distract her—making her think he undressed her. She needed to remember that virtual reality was all in the mind. He was pushing her to accept this, getting her ready for the next phase.
Willing her panic and anger away, Helen relaxed, allowing her body to float. He was her trainer; he wasn’t going to let her drown. Just as she reasoned this to herself, she felt his arms gather around her, pulling her upward to the surface. Her face burst through the water and she took deep breaths of air into her lungs as she felt him lifting her higher, till her chin rested on his shoulder. She coughed, very aware of his arms around her nude body.
“Total immersive virtual reality between two people is going to be different from going solo, Elena,” he said softly in her ear. “I give you the reality that you have to accept in your mind. Just as I have to accept what you see when you remote view because if my mind rejects it, then this experiment will fail. You have to get very comfortable with whatever reality I provide here, just as I have to do the same with the reality you say you see when you remote view. Am I making sense to you?”
“Yes.” But that didn’t mean she had to like it.
“The nudity is just a little quarrel between us. I know you don’t feel comfortable when you aren’t in control, I totally understand that, and that’s why you are naked now, in the water, in my control because you have to get comfortable with this notion.”
“Only in virtual reality,” she assured him sharply.
“That’s fine.”
They were still in the water. She shivered. How deep was the water? Not real, Helen, it’s not real. She breathed slowly, steadily. Fine, she got the lesson, so she would shut up and just let the drug do its thing until she was able to move again.
His hand came behind her neck, gently turning her head up. Looking at his shadowy form was the most frustrating thing after the fact that she was in someone’s control.
“Do you know what made you even madder than being stripped naked by someone?”
“I’m not stripped naked. It’s all in my head,” she said, and tried to smile nonchalantly, “so I’m not mad at all since none of this is real.”
“Then you aren’t allowed to lose your temper if I kiss you again,” he whispered, his head coming down on hers.
And there was nothing she could do as she floated in his arms, nothing at all, as the hand behind her neck firmly forced her head back. He explored her mouth intimately, his tongue tangling with hers.
He was enjoying this too much, she thought dazedly, even as she fought against her own response. He liked being in control of her and the more she fought him, the more ways he would find to get at her. It was all standard operating procedure in the book of mind manipulation. But, besides what he was claiming to be doing, what else was he trying to manipulate her to do?
Later, back in the changing room, she stared at her lips, which looked redder than normal. He was diabolical. He hadn’t undressed her. It had been all in her mind because he’d made her think he was going to do it while she was out. Again, playing with her fears.
She traced the outline of her lips with her fingers. Sensitive. As if she had been kissed thoroughly.
“But it’s not real,” she whispered to her reflection.
Two
Internal focus wasn’t Helen’s strongest point. She much preferred action; thinking too much only muddled up one’s life. However, these new games were designed to make her work mentally as well as physically, and she couldn’t help but feel a little pissed off. She hated being manipulated and these days, someone was doing a whole lot of manipulating of her mind and body.
Helen scowled, then quickly schooled her features. The last time she had betrayed herself like that, someone had pushed her through a series of exercises that he knew she would dislike, even though she now knew how everything worked, that nothing was actually real.
She looked around the room. She had learned much about it in the last couple of months. The CAVE Ultimate—Cave Automatic Virtual Environment—was a ten-by-ten-by-ten room that was the newest in virtual reality immersion. Since its invention at the University of Illinois in Chicago, certain government agencies had further developed and enhanced the unique features of this new technology.
One of the unique features of the CAVE was that it allowed multiple participants to experience the illusion that was virtual reality, with one participant controlling the environment. That first experience from two months ago—that had all been done with her alone in this room, with her invisible instructor in charge somewhere in the COMCEN complex. She now knew that he was in a similar CAVE somewhere, wearing the same type of special bodysuit that she was wearing but with the controls all on his side.
That part of it was tough for her. She hadn’t liked what had happened that first time, even though she now knew they were testing her. No, he was testing her. She’d had this feeling all along that that dream-world into which she’d been thrown was entirely his creation.
He’d had her put in darkness so she would feel unbalanced. That had solved the problem about the special glasses, too. If she had been able to see, she would have seen the VR goggles that covered half her face floating a few inches above. He had given her that stupid paralytic drug so that she couldn’t feel the rotating mechanical VR chair on which they’d placed her. All those feelings of being carried, being upside down, and the dizzying rush of movement were created by that equipment.
Even after watching it in action without her on it, she was still amazed at how everything coordinated with those goggles. Wireless tracker-tabs that looked like sticky markers were placed on certain points on a person’s body, and these tabs corresponded to the chair, letting it know exactly how to move the person. That was how she was manipulated physically. It was interactive virtual reality at its finest.
This was probably the most expensive playroom she’d ever had the privilege to romp in. Not bad for a dirty Russian orphan who only wanted a new Barbie doll, eh?
Helen grinned at the thought. Oh well, let him be diabolical. She was tired of controlling her emotions when he was around.
He was silent today. Not a word. It made her want to rile him to get some reaction, but that would only betray her irritation. Today they’d used the wireless trackers and a new pair of gloves. She’d stood on a glorified treadmill that created the illusion of motion while she got used to “spatial control of nonspace,” as her scientist-tutor Dr. Cunningham had explained to her.
She was being prepared for the final frontier, so to speak. TIVRRV, appropriately pronounced TERROR, stood for Total Immersion Virtual Reality Remote Viewing, the top-secret project that required body and brain immersion and stimulation. Anyone who volunteered for this crazy experiment ought to be terrified.
He was so damn quiet—why didn’t he say something? Or was that the new test?
“You know, I’ve never had my brain waves synchronized with a man’s before,” she drawled, touching the lever to the right of the chair. The goggles raised slowly above her head. She peered up into them. Nothing, of course. “What exactly does that do, in your words? These scientists haven’t been able to explain it to me satisfactorily enough. I can’t get excited at terms like Immersive Visualization and Interactive Mind Flow.”
She waited for ten seconds. The remote viewing training had been the toughest of everything she had been through, for her, because it was all about letting go mentally. But this new trainer, with his secretive ways, was taking it even further. He was ruthless with his need to control her and he didn’t care if he made her furious while doing it. In fact, she was sure he was somewhat amused by her rage. She was waiting for the day she’d see him in the flesh; she was going to wallop him.
When she’d told him that, he’d replied, in that odd quiet way that always made her nerves sing, “I look forward to it.” And then he’d kissed her.
Who was he? What was he? She wanted to know everything about him like she was sure he did about her. Not everything, she corrected fiercely. He couldn’t read her mind. If he could, he’d know just what she’d thought of him after what he’d put her through the first time in the CAVE. And all the torture she was going to put him through. It still pissed her off to think that somehow he managed to turn her on with his kisses. She had been celibate way too long.
After two months, he still managed to rattle her when he ordered her to walk into a dark room. Not fear. Anticipation. His body felt so real and hard when she was crushed against him. He’d slowly tip her head back and then bend his down toward hers, taking his time, until every nerve in her body screamed silently for that kiss. He was toying with her. Bastard.
“Hello?” she called out softly. Fine. She didn’t want to be polite anymore. The memory of those first sessions with him still ticked her off. “Just so you know, I didn’t think that last kiss was that fucking great interactively. Next time, don’t freeze my body up and I might show you exactly how to kiss a woman, asshole.”
She turned at the sound of a cough. It was Derek the boy wonder computer wiz. A very embarrassed computer wiz, his face flushed as he looked at everywhere but her.
“Ahem, umm, Miss Roston, can you follow me to the programming room?”
Helen cocked her head. “Cutting short my training today?”
Derek shook his head. “Actually, we’re ready to go to Test Bravo. We’ve finished the program that will enable you to choose an avatar for yourself as well as your monitor. Now we’ll test it after we’ve connected the brain wave simulation program.”
More techie terms to learn. Test Bravo. That meant she’d passed Test Alpha. “Okay, let’s go,” she said, then stopped short. “Wait a minute…did you say for my monitor? Is that the same as my trainer?”
“Yes, ma’am. It’s the same person.”
“And we’re creating an avatar for him?” She understood the term. “I know an avatar is a representation of a user in a shared virtual reality. It’s usually some form of animated entity in web forums or web interactive games, right?”
“Our new program goes beyond that,” Derek said, with a proud smile. “You’ll be amazed at our human simulation software and advanced digital mapping. Everything looks and acts superreal. In any case, you have total control, ma’am.”
Helen smiled widely. “Is that right?” she drawled, and looking up at the goggles, she gleefully rubbed her hands. Test Bravo sounded more fun already.
“You mean I can program the avatar to look like some Greek god if I want to?”
Helen sat back in the chair, crossed her ankles and clasped her hands behind her neck. She laughed, her amusement ringing out in the small room, as she rocked her chair gently. She narrowed her eyes speculatively as she stared at the computer screen, then turned to Derek, who was standing in front of it.
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, trying to keep his face straight. “Greek god or any deity you have in mind. Your monitor said you choose how you want to see him.”
Helen laughed again. This might be the easiest part of her training. A virtual reality simulator with her own self-designed trainer. After a grueling year of hand-to-hand combat training with handpicked military personnel, she liked the idea of being the one in control again. It wasn’t quite so much fun when a bunch of men were ordering her around and she had to undergo strenuous testing all the time. Not to mention the medics and scientists standing around, constantly poking and prodding her.
“Well, then…let’s modify this hideous male you’ve designed for me, sweetie.”
The programmer’s face flushed pink at her teasing. Clearly he wasn’t used to someone like Helen Roston. He slid a quick glance at her long Lycra-clad legs. “What’s wrong with the model? I thought most women like their men tall, dark and handsome.”
Helen arched a brow in mockery. “Excuse me, but are you telling me I’m like most women?”
“She isn’t. She’s one hot babe who will kill you in a hundred different ways,” a voice mocked back from behind them.
Helen didn’t turn around. “Ha, said the guy with the killer looks.” Flyboy was one of the most handsome men Helen had ever laid eyes on. An awful flirt, too. “How come you didn’t use Flyboy as a model, Derek? I heard he did a VR program for some big project to attract government funding.”
Flyboy came up behind her and Helen felt his hands on the back of her chair. “Sweetheart, why would you need a VR version when you have the real thing right here?”
Helen looked up and grinned. “You know, I can get Derek to make my VR trainer look like you and then I can do all those unmentionable things that you keep promising me.”
Flyboy grinned back and winked. Derek coughed. “I could,” he said in a careful voice, “but really, I think it best if your trainer-avatar is someone you imagine, Miss Roston. It is simulated training, but there’s a real person whose brain waves will be connected to yours, and, it’s not a great idea psychologically to bond with a real person who isn’t real…I mean, you know what I mean….”
His voice trailed off and he shrugged. He opened his mouth to continue but Helen waved him off. “Understood,” she told him and shrugged at Flyboy. “See? Can’t have you as my dream guy either. There’s too much brain wave—” She waved her hand dramatically and added, in a mock British accent, “Brain wave immersion, creating cerebral confusion between reality and illusion.”
Even Derek couldn’t help chuckling at the wry mimicry of the professorial tone of Dr. Hollingsworth, the scientist in charge of Mind Viewer, the thought immersion program. Helen had had to sit through a few of his lectures as he explained what she meant to the program and how the experiments were supposed to work. That was when she’d first met Flyboy. Since he had been in a simulation program recently, he’d joined her a couple of times so he could also answer her questions. She was glad. She understood Flyboy’s easy layman’s description better than Dr. Hollingsworth’s technical language.
Besides, Flyboy was the only one of the infamous nine commandos who had taken the time to get to know her. He had introduced her to other operatives, widening her circle of new friends.
Helen liked him. She hoped the rest of the commandos would accept her as easily as he did.
“I’m heartbroken,” Flyboy said, giving her ponytail a swift tug. “You’ll just have to go out with me and I can make your dreams come true, Hell.”
“Yeah, yeah, okay, let’s get this started.” Helen straightened in her chair and sucked on her forefinger. “First, forget those bulging muscles. I mean, you made him look like some romance model, like what’s-his-name…”
“Fabio,” Derek supplied helpfully.
“Now how is it you come up with his name immediately?” Flyboy countered.
Derek whipped out a paperback. His face was flushed again. “I took this off my sister’s bookshelf. He is Fabio, isn’t he? I thought I did a pretty good job with the digital imaging. I did add some changes, of course.”
“You did use Fabio as a model!” Helen stared at the book cover in amazement. It portrayed a half-naked man with long hair, his muscles impossibly ripped. She looked at the other model on the computer screen. Yup, the likeness was there. Same longish hair and muscle tone. She thought of what had happened to her during that first run-through of CAVE Ultimate. Revenge was going to be so sweet. A wicked grin broke free. “Well, let’s see the goods, Derek. Take his pants off.”
“What?”
“Sheesh, if you’re going to design my trainer’s avatar and he’s to be specifically to my taste, shouldn’t I get to order all the details?”
There was a short silence. Flyboy burst into laughter. He pulled a nearby chair between Helen and Derek. “I want to see this. Let’s check out the junk on Miss Roston’s made-to-order trainer, Derek.”
“I…”
Helen patted the man on the back. He had the look of someone facing torture. “Come on, I promise it’ll be over soon. Let’s start easy. Peel off his pants. And I want him blond, please.”
“What happened to tall, dark and handsome? Or is it because I’m blond?” Flyboy asked.
“Oh, shut up, you. He’s my Greek god, and I want him blond, and much sleeker, with chocolate eyes.”
“Hey, I have blue eyes!”
“Make his eyes chocolate, Derek.”
“Yes, ma’am.” But he was clearly reluctant to give up his “creation.”
“Leaner, not so muscular.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I know you meant well, Derek, adding that fur, but really, not so much chest hair, please.” She suspected that Derek grew up playing too much interactive Dungeons and Dragons on the Internet. The avatar he created was the classic “I kill for food and magic” stereotype she’d seen advertised in game store windows.
“What, you’re going to bury your face in his chest? These are going to be some VR training sessions! Are you sure the powers-that-be want that?” Flyboy asked, laughing.
Helen turned to Derek. “Didn’t they order you to tailor the thing to my taste?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am. The idea for this phase of your training is to simulate the missions before you get your dosage. You need your trainer to talk you through as your body reacts to the drugs and the doctors thought it best to give you a measure of control of his avatar.”
“Uh-huh. Hear that mumbo-jumbo, Flyboy? That means I get to make the guy as sexy as I like, and I demand a blond Greek god with chocolate eyes. For a start.” Helen cracked her knuckles. They were going to play with her mind, anyway, so why not have some fun with it? It was strange, but meeting her so far invisible trainer added a level of excitement that she couldn’t explain. It wasn’t going to be a real meeting, but better than that shadow he’d been using in the CAVE. “Let’s start from the top.”
“He looks a lot better than the model Derek cooked up for your avatar,” T. observed. She leaned over to take a better look, then laughed. “Oh my God, she’s having fun, isn’t she? That’s Helen for you.”
“Is she ready?” the man questioned.
“Oh yes, as ready as a test supersoldier superspy can be,” T. said, half-seriously. “She’s been trained by Special Ops. She passed several of the CIA remote viewing tests with flying colors. She’s achieved 72.5 percent accuracy. She’s one of my best operatives and she’s not called Hell for nothing, you know.”
“Yes, but she isn’t the best.” He turned to look at T. “You are.” T. fluffed her hair. “Darling, how do you do that? Praise and accusation at the same time. I couldn’t take two years off for that kind of training, you know that. It’d ruin my nails. I picked the best operative we had. She’s single, unattached, and very ambitious. She wants to do this.”
It wasn’t a good enough explanation for him. He wanted to know the real reasons. “She’s single and unattached—you’re sure of that.” It wasn’t a question. He didn’t want any third-party complications when he was just beginning this phase of their relationship.
“That’s what she says and she’s been training very hard all this time. I haven’t seen any romantic affiliations except for some go-nowhere dates. I trust my operatives, and when Helen said she would do it, she meant it. That girl is very talented—I’m lucky the CIA didn’t snatch her from me.”
“She’s too independent. CIA doesn’t like that.” T. shrugged. “That’s what GEM is. We’re all independent and if they don’t like it, why do they keep contracting us? Are you going to have a problem? This is going to be just as tough for you. Your brain waves being linked to hers during experimentation. Those scientists called it mind-bonding, darling and…” She cocked a brow. “We know how your mind is.”
He smiled for the first time, a small quirk of his lips. He canted a brow in answer. “What, you don’t have confidence in your top operative playing mind games with me? And it’s Mind Setter, T.”
The two phases to the Mind Viewer program were named Mind Setter and Mind Former. The first phase set the brain immersion in motion, linking him to Helen by synchronizing their brain waves during sleep, then after a period, during tests. They’d started this phase a couple of months ago.
“Darling, I prefer my term. What’s happening is more intimate than mind-setting, or whatever Dr. Hollingsworth calls it.” T. crossed her arms. “Remember, Helen isn’t just trained in NOPAIN now. She has all these things being experimented within her mind. Who knows what she would do to you?” A challenging gleam entered her golden eyes. “Bet she’ll fight you all the way. GEM operatives have great resistance.”
Yes. A dangerous woman. The man returned his gaze back to the screen. “Not if I look like that. She can’t do anything to me with that image in her head.”
T. looked at the new image of the avatar. “Superspy. Remote viewing-trained. Combat-ready. And once she takes the drugs, she should be a supersoldier—fearless, with little capacity for emotion, and less need for sleep. You’ll probably be the only one holding on to her mind. Be gentle with her, hmm?”
“I thought you said she would give me trouble?”
“I just don’t know about the drugs. You never know with drugs. You, better than most, understand how that is. They’ve done things to you in your program. That’s why you’re a perfect balance. Guide her through her first mission and get her back safely.”
“I’ve no intention of failing, T.,” he said softly. It wasn’t the guidance part of Mind Setter that would be the problem between him and Elena Rostova. It was getting her ready for him.
“Okay, I put on these goggles and then he’s just going to be there?” Helen loosened her ponytail. She weighed the goggles in her hand. Lightweight plastic, malleable in feel. “We can talk and everything? Do we need to go to the CAVE to test this?”
Dr. Kirkland, Dr. Hollingsworth’s second-in-command, shook his head and pointed to the virtual reality chair and equipment at the far corner of the room.
“Not today. This is just a run-through and we thought we’d try out the new VR Portal. We’re going to monitor your heart rate and vital statistics. You can talk while we get both your brain waves in sync.”
“Wait, he’s here somewhere? We aren’t using a simulated program?” Helen looked up at the doctor sharply. “Where?”
“He’s in a similar test room, Miss Roston,” Dr. Kirkland said as he nodded to his assistant. “This is just a test to see whether the communication comes through.”
“But it’s virtual reality.” Helen pretended to frown. She understood what was going to happen but it didn’t hurt to hear the doctor’s version of the truth.
“The simulated reality is virtual but your trainer is real. You already know that. He has to be, or you won’t be able to get real instructions when you’re in your remote viewing state.”
“Oh, I know I don’t see him—it’ll be my blond god but still, do I have to call him something?”
“Miss Roston, we’ll get to that as soon as we start this program. Right now we don’t even know whether you two are in sync.”
Helen grinned. “Doctor, I’m in control of this hottie in my head. How in sync do I need him to be?” Flyboy chuckled as the doctor tried to remain serious. She turned to Derek. “You make sure he’s still naked. I want to see the goods before I agree to have you guys mess my mind up with drugs.”
The reference to the more serious aspect of the experiment brought a quick nervous nod from the young programmer. Helen gave him a soothing smile. Ironic, really. She was the one who might go psychotic and she had to comfort the poor guy. She looked at the goggles in her hand. This was it, the final phase before…
She could feel her heart beating faster and she glanced up to see the doctor looking at her closely. Like she was some mouse in his lab, she bet. Oh well. She had agreed to this. She took in a deep breath. Fear, especially of the unknown, was normal.
A beep distracted her. Flyboy reached for his back pocket. He gave a sigh. “Damn. I have to go, babe.” He stood up. “Call you later? Drinks? Massage?”
Helen wrinkled her nose. “I have to go to philosophy class. Want to come along?”
Flyboy shuddered. “You’re kidding me.”
Her smile was devilish. “Come along and find out,” she invited.
Flyboy shuddered again. “You win, Hell.” The beeper went off a second time. “Got to go. Later.”
Helen nodded to Dr. Kirkland and held out her arm. She remained quiet as he read her statistics to his assistant. The goggles sat in her lap, their gleaming surface reflecting parts of her face. Such a little thing with such power. She had done VR before but this was going to be different. This time, unlike the CAVE, someone was going to be in her head. Remote viewing was weird enough. This was going to be one step more into her strange new role of supergirl.
Fifteen minutes later, she was strapped into the sensor jacket, sitting on the VR chair. Derek looked at her expectantly. Dr. Kirkland adjusted the headgear.
“Ready when you are, Miss Roston.”
Helen nodded. “Ditto.”
She knew what to expect. At first it would be dark, like a movie theatre. Without the sensor jacket, she could see a whole movie on a huge screen all in her head. Then, when they turned on the switch or whatever they called it, she would experience virtual reality in a training facility, all her movements guided by the sensors. It wouldn’t be the same without the CAVE’s special sen-surround elements, though.
She’d been thinking a lot about this. The training in the CAVE was for him to test how her mind worked. That was why he kept pushing her buttons. That was why he was always in control. This time, in the Portal, it would be different; she would be controlling the missions with her remote viewing. It seemed that her secret trainer was preparing himself to deal with her.
One more difference than the CAVE. He’d be closer now, too. He’d be in my mind. Anticipation squeezed the pit of her stomach.
She glanced around in the darkness. A few seconds went by. “I don’t see anything,” she said out loud.
“Hang on one more minute, Miss Roston,” Derek said in her right earpiece. “Still trying to get the signals right.”
Helen rolled her eyes behind the goggles. Idiots. They were going to fry her brain cells before she got to see her yummy dream guy.
Fried brain cells for a naked man in your head. Who’s the idiot?
Helen jerked in her straps. Whoa. It was still dark, but that was definitely not her voice. There was no shadowy figure, though. She coughed. “I think I hear something,” she said out loud. “Derek?”
“Okay. That’s good. Keep trying.”
“Keep trying? Keep trying what? You’re the one who’s supposed to know what’s happening!”
Silence. Helen waited for a moment, then sighed. Obviously the doctor had told Derek to shut up. She peered into the darkness. Okay, this was getting ridiculous. Should she say hello out loud? Uh-uh. No way were they going to witness her making a fool of herself talking to nobody. She was going to think this conversation, see whether that worked. As in remote viewing with her guide during the CIA training sessions, she moved her lips and spoke silently. It usually took several minutes before the internal conversation became “normal” enough where she wouldn’t be aware of the need not to talk out loud.
“Yoohoo!” she called, in her head. “Yoohoo, naked guy, wherever you are!”
Silence.
Helen made a face. “Dammit, I know that you can hear me!”
“Thought you wanted to see me.”
Great. She hated smart-asses.
“Thought you liked my ass. You requested nice and tight, buns of steel, if I remember correctly.”
Helen sat there, stunned for a second. Whoa. Wait a minute. He could read her thoughts. She had thought…
“You had thought to have a conversation with me, which is how it’ll seem to be once they get all those electrodes to work correctly….”
“Can you read every thought?” she asked fiercely, realization rapidly dawning on her. Damn. The brain wave synchronization. Of course he would be reading her thoughts. She was thinking this reality. The talking was virtual.
“I’m your monitor, so in virtual reality land, I monitor your thoughts. I’m sure I’ll get to know you better as we continue this.”
“Wait a minute!” A sudden burst of light caused Helen to blink, her eyes trying to focus. There was a strange humming in the back of her head, or maybe not, because it went away as soon as she tried to concentrate on it. Movement to her right. She turned.
Oh, my. Naked guy at three o’clock. He was exactly as she’d told Derek she wanted her trainer to look. She found that she could walk toward him as he stood there in all his glory. She gulped as she circled the magnificent man, checking out the details. He looked so real! This virtual reality program they were using was simply amazing.
Facing her trainer, she gave him her trademark devilish grin. “Oh, yeah!” she whooped.
“I gather you like me naked.”
His voice had a sexy Southern drawl, just as she’d requested. Helen grinned again. “This is too cool for words,” she told him, smirking wickedly. “It’s good to finally see you. Don’t you like being naked?”
He looked down at himself and a glimmer of a smile touched his beautiful lips. “It’s your program for now.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Once they get it all ready, I’m supposed to get all serious. But right now, you’re mine, mine, mine!” Helen badly wanted to touch him, but something stopped her from reaching out. She liked the idea of finally having him at a disadvantage. Cocking her head, she drawled, “But they didn’t say I couldn’t have you naked all the time, even if you’re training me.”
“Won’t it be boring? Looking at this body all the time?” There was unmistakable laughter in that voice.
“Hey, I made you, so how could I get bored of you so soon?” crooned Helen. She was getting more intrigued by the real man behind this. What other things could he teach her, besides the stuff they’d been doing in the CAVE? And what was his role?
“More than you think.”
She blinked in surprise again. She had to learn how to control her thoughts in here.
“You’re quick. See, the first lesson’s almost over.”
He reached out and touched her face. She felt his fingers caress the spot just below her earlobe. It felt real, just like in the CAVE.
Which reminded her—she smacked his hand away. “I want to know something. I—” Looking at him, she found she couldn’t talk seriously to a man standing so nonchalantly naked in front of her. She swallowed, trying to recapture her irritation. “I want to know something about that first night.”
“What would you like to know?” He didn’t seem puzzled about which night.
“What if I hadn’t guessed that it was some kind of virtual reality program? Would you have…continued?”
“Taking your clothes off, you mean? Touching you?”
He was blunt. Helen hadn’t wanted to say those words. She shrugged. She still hadn’t reconciled with the knowledge that she’d been turned on by that phantom kiss. “Yes,” she said.
“Yes.”
She glared at him. “Even if I’d said no?”
“You hadn’t,” he pointed out. “If you remember, you said you’d kill me, but not once did you say ‘stop’ or ‘no.’ So yes, I’d have continued.”
He was right. She’d been furious—both at her response to his kiss and then at his intimate touching. “Would you if I had?” she insisted.
“Yes. It was a test, Elena. Either you pass or fail it.”
He lifted his hand and caressed the side of her face again. A shiver ran down her spine.
“What name should I call you?” Could one sound breathless in one’s mind? His fingers tickled sensuously. She could feel a frisson of awareness sliding like silk against her skin. She’d gotten used to him touching her. She should be mad as hell at what he’d put her through, but now wasn’t the time to challenge his way of introducing himself. After all, Dr. Kirkland was trying to get the goggles to work right. She was sure she’d foul up their equipment testing if she started kicking Naked Guy’s ass.
“You choose.” There was mockery now in that voice, too, as if he’d read her mind again.
“No, you choose.” She wanted to see how clever he was.
He leaned closer and she swore she could smell cologne on the man. This was freaking unbelievable. His breath even tickled her ear. “Hades,” he whispered. “And you’ll come when I call.”
He snapped his fingers. There was that humming again and the lighting in the room dimmed.
“Miss Roston? We’re done for now. Please stand by while we take each sensor off.”
Hey, wait a minute! Where did he go? It was over? Helen looked around as the place returned to darkness. She hadn’t even checked him out thoroughly yet! “Hey, you!”
Of course he didn’t answer. It was strange as she sat there, seeing nothing, trying to grasp the memory of what just happened. Damn. It left her feeling bereft. Hades. Hell and Hades. Damn smart-ass.
The goggles came off and she blinked again, her eyesight focusing back on Derek the programmer. He looked extremely pleased, as if something grand had happened. Oh yeah, of course. They had managed to sync brain waves today. Yippeedo.
“How was the avatar, Miss Roston? Everything like you ordered?” he asked.
Helen sniffed. She didn’t like the way it had ended. She was the one in charge still, wasn’t she? He was still her naked guy.
She shook her head as they freed her from the straps and sensors and whatnots. She swerved the seat toward the computer. Mr. Hades was going to get a big surprise.
“Not quite,” she said and tossed Derek a wicked look. “I found him lacking in the size department. I want to make some parts bigger.”
She had been watching Derek earlier and with her photographic memory, she repeated a sequence of typing on the keyboard. Then she played with the mouse and watched the cursor on the screen follow her movements.
She hated to admit it. Those times in the CAVE, when he’d chosen to put her in roles where she felt dominated, pushing at all her hot buttons, testing her emotions as if he wanted to learn how to switch her on and off, had sometimes left her feeling vulnerable. She didn’t like that at all, and the bastard knew it. She knew he was testing her mental strength, to see how far she would allow him to go.
She wrinkled her nose. She was going to push some buttons herself. Her forefinger tapped on one of the keys several times. And a few more. She laughed in naughty satisfaction. Revenge was satisfyingly sweet.
“Hell, yeah!”
Three
Philosophy class was an odd course for them to inflict on her. After all, thinking too deeply would affect action. Analysis paralysis, that was one of her Special Ops. trainer’s favorite sayings.
“You start thinking about how dark it is in there, you’ve already lost half the battle, Roston,” he’d said, during one session when she had to belly-crawl into a pitch-black tunnel. “There’s active anticipation of danger and there’s passive anticipation. The second type will get you killed.”
But they insisted on philosophy classes at the Center. Helen hadn’t thought she would enjoy them. She wasn’t particularly interested in logic and reasoning; she reasonably explained to the tutor that if she had any logical brain cells at all, she wouldn’t have signed up for this experiment in the first place. Everyone had laughed at the workshop.
However, the sessions weren’t entirely useless. There was a method to their madness, she supposed. Command Center definitely had a different approach. Analysis, Helen found, was used to paralyze latent emotions, such as fear and anger.
She understood that fear could be a major stumbling block in the coming experiment. It could defeat her. It was important therefore that she learn to shape her fears into something tangible so she could overcome them.
Helen was getting so damn good at pretending, it should scare her. But it didn’t, really. Fear, as they had told her from the beginning, would eventually be under her control.
She applied fresh lipstick in the restroom, and made a face. She’d learned at GEM that reality had many faces. Often, what one saw in front of oneself was just part of the truth. What mattered most was the hidden agenda.
She knew from day one that she was different. She’d sensed the danger behind the reality around the friendly strangers who’d approached her, but food was a powerful tempter to a hungry kid. She had options—accept the food and go with those nice GEM agents or remain alone. Hunger could conquer anything, even fear. And something about the whole thing gnawed at her, so she’d followed them. And here she was.
Unanswered questions. Looking for the unvarnished truth. That was her driving force in life.
Pulling her loose hair into a ponytail, she fluffed the bangs away from her forehead. Her hand wandered on its own to the spot below her earlobe. How did he know she liked to be touched there?
That irritated her. She didn’t mind being psychoanalyzed by their team of head doctors; she was trained in NOPAIN—nonphysical persuasion and innovative negotiation—and she could easily evade questions she didn’t want to answer. She had even grown comfortable with them staring at her through their microeyes; it was in her contract. She had known when she’d agreed to this experiment that her life wasn’t going to be hers again. What was it Enrique always told her? Ya gotta let the big boys think they’re bigger and stronger before you can whoop their ass, Elena. She smiled at the memory of the older punk boy who was her sometime companion. At fifteen, Enrique—a name he’d chosen for himself—was more grown-up than most kids his age. Street wisdom still made a lot of sense in her world.
Her smile turned into a frown. She hadn’t counted on someone knowing little things like her erogenous zones, though. Again she wondered about this trainer behind the avatar. Was he anything like her creation? Did he remote view, too? And if so, how far along was he? Her training hadn’t taken her into some of the higher levels she’d read about—the government was too eager to try her out.
Helen looked at her reflection. She had to admit that letting her create her trainer’s avatar was insidiously clever. Psychologically, she would immediately have an innate response to him already. Maybe it was one of their tricks, to make her assume that it was a man—
Nah. Hades sounded too much like a man. A woman wouldn’t have said those last lines. She closed her eyes, recalled the scene in her mind with the quick vividness that was now so familiar…
Her instincts rose like a radar. Her eyes flew open.
“You know, I thought I smelled your perfume,” she remarked calmly.
“Liar. I don’t have any on today.” T. appeared from one of the stalls.
“Oh? Are you testing me, too?” Helen turned to give her full attention to her operations chief. “Or are you here to tell me who my trainer is?”
T. shrugged. “I don’t know everything.”
“Who’s the liar now?” There was no one higher in her agency here—she had the security clearance.
T. shrugged again, then turned to the mirror. “They’re very secretive here at the Center. Surely you’ve noticed that? I rarely get to talk with anyone other than the commandos I work with, and I’ve been here almost two and a half years.”
“This partnership GEM has with them—is it that great?”
Ever since the news had gone through the grapevine that their contract agency was now working with COS Command, there was rampant gossip that the “partnership” would become a merger, and that GEM’s independence could be history. So far, Helen hadn’t seen any difference in the way her agency worked, but then she had been deep in training and hadn’t had the time to really pay close attention.
Helen studied the tall blond woman who was her operations chief and mentor. Even after all these years, it was still tough to read T.’s emotions. T. was a chameleon, able to project whatever was needed for the situation, and when she was in her element, even Helen’s intuition couldn’t gauge her chief’s real feelings about anything.
But Helen trusted T.’s judgment more than anyone else’s. It was T. who told her she had a special gift, who had always encouraged her to use her special instincts during dangerous situations. It was T. who told her that she had far to go in GEM.
“It’s been highly beneficial,” T. told her. She smiled. “I just love the way we both seem to have our meaningful conversations in the ladies’ room.”
Helen wrinkled her nose and thumbed at the exit. “Out there is the macho man’s world. This Center is full of them. You know it, and I know it. Some of them are sexy as get-out but I don’t trust any of them.”
T.’s smile widened. Her brows arched meaningfully. “Not even your hot trainer?”
Helen let out a sigh. “Why are you trying to use NOPAIN on me? Just ask your damn questions outright, T.”
“Darling, you’ve been delightfully evading and dodging those head doctors all these months. Why can’t I try my hand on you?”
“Because you’re on my side.” Helen cocked her head. “I hope?”
“Yet you don’t want to tell me everything. I’m still your operations chief, Hell, even though you’ve been out of touch lately, what with secretive CIA RV training and disappearing for weeks without debriefing.” T. played with the many rings on her fingers. “They’re playing with your mind, and as a friend, I’m concerned that you might forget this is a contract, not a permanent thing.”
“Ha! How could I forget right now I’m the CIA’s and various government agencies’ favorite toy? I’m the most watched woman in the spy world now, barring a few hundred posters of calendar babes. I’ve been monitored, recorded, prodded and probed. They had me hooked up to devices that measure my pulse and pretty much every body function they could think of. I’m sure they’ve tried every available way to look into my mind while doing those experiments in remote viewing. T., darling, I’m the last person to forget what I’ve become.”
“Which is?”
Helen frowned. Damn. T. got her there. She hated it when T. won in NOPAIN. She shrugged, trying to evade. “I don’t quite know yet. After all, they pulled me out of training as soon as I finished Phase Two, and I’m still miffed about that! I was getting to be quite good at their stupid little tests. Why did they interrupt my remote-view training?”
T. continued turning one of her rings. Her amber-gold eyes were thoughtful as she studied Helen. “Maybe they were trying to keep within the time limit of the contract. Or maybe they didn’t want to lose you. You do know the high cost of the advance stages of the CIA program.”
T. didn’t mean in financial terms. She had been frank about the real dangers when the contract was offered but Helen had been intrigued. Getting a bird’s eye view of so many agencies was an operative’s fantasy. “Yeah,” she said, with another shrug. “The casualties end up in some mental ward and they didn’t want to risk me. Not too soon anyway.”
T. nodded. “You’ve been doing excellently. They’re eager to start with what you can do now. They told me those flashes you have are longer now.”
Helen turned back to the mirror. “I’m not supposed to elaborate too much about the project to anyone.”
“Darling, your state secrets are safe with you. When I want an update, the info I seek is your welfare. However…” T. paused, her eyes narrowing. “I can see I can’t depend on you for that.”
Helen met T.’s eyes in the mirror. Her reflex had been to be defensive because she had to be alert all the time and she knew she’d been doing the same with T. She allowed a part of herself to relax. “I can’t explain what’s happening to me, T.,” she said quietly. “It’s exciting and scary.”
“And it’s going to get more so, with this new phase. Remote viewing plus virtual reality is going to play with your mind even more. That’s why they decided that you needed to be connected with a real mind outside. This virtual reality trainer—he’s your anchor, Hell. You can trust him. You have to allow yourself to depend on him sometimes.”
Helen smiled and turned back around. It was now her turn to trap her operations chief. “Thought you said you didn’t know him?”
T. smiled back and took a few steps closer. “I didn’t say that,” she mocked. “I said I didn’t know everything. I could be talking to him through VR, too, you know. You have him looking like some blond beefcake. I myself prefer James Dean. Bad boys are more my style.”
Damn. Thought she had her. “What? You wouldn’t make him blond like your dear Alex Diamond? What will he say to that?”
The GEM grapevine was rife with gossip of what was happening between their operations chief and one of COS Center’s top commandos. Romance was the word being bandied around. A GEM sister had wittily called it Operation Covert Combustion, and it wasn’t too far from the truth, since T. appeared to be playing a game of total ignorance of a certain commando’s presence at the Center. Helen cocked an enquiring brow.
T.’s face was unrevealing, her gaze shuttered. “I’m sure he gets his fantasies taken care of, darling.”
Helen laughed. She bet. T. was also the master of disguises, a woman of a hundred faces. She could see how she confused her men, even Alex Diamond. She sobered. “I can tell you one thing, chief. Once you’re immersed in this program, you find that there aren’t any fantasies left in your life. Or maybe it’s one big fantasy now. Take your pick.”
She knew T. needed to know this. It was the operations chief’s job to make sure her operatives stayed as safe as possible. Any contract taken up by GEM had dangerous elements and right now, Helen’s was probably way up there on the list. She wanted to keep her chief in the loop as much as she could.
“Tell me how so?”
“Part of remote viewing is projecting imagery. Part of it is fortune telling. After a while you aren’t sure whether you’re doing that all the time unless you’re very strong mentally.” She gave T. a level look. “And I’m very strong. I’m going to get stronger. That’s what all these psychoanalysis and philosophy classes are for, to help me stay grounded.”
T. took one of her rings off and handed it to her. Surprised, Helen turned her palm out. “What’s that for?” T.’s rings weren’t just rings.
“Keep it on. It might be useful later.”
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
“Nope. Trust goes along with it.”
“Ah.” More NOPAIN. Helen watched as T. slipped the ring on for her. “This would mean something entirely different if you had a dick, T.”
T.’s laughter echoed in the tiled room. She stepped back. “Soon you’ll have to convince a bunch of suits with a demonstration. Are you ready?”
Back to business. Helen played with her new ring. “Yes.”
“By the way, you’re spending the night here at the Center.”
“Damn, why?” She was already spending too many nights here lately. She loved being surrounded by lots of color, but colors created natural mental blocks for some reason. “I don’t like their sparse comfort.”
“It makes sense to. You’ll have another VR session before the show. Center wants to make sure everything goes smoothly. That means the more they monitor your brain waves while you sleep, the better.”
They had been doing that the last few months. Helen spent a few nights there every week, sleeping on some kind of bed with enough straps and electronic gear on it to qualify it for an S and M contraption.
“Today’s test run went well—you two connected. You don’t know how much this operation depended on that outcome. Believe me, darling, there were quite a few high fives today. They had actually expected more problems, but from what you described and what they could tell, the synchronization was delayed because of lack of sensory data. Once you’ve gotten used to sharing brain waves, communication will be better. He wants to do it one more time before your big show and tell.”
Helen hid her surprise. T. loved ending their meetings with unexpected news. Provoking emotional reaction was her hobby. “So soon? He misses me already, huh?” She couldn’t help smiling, though, at the memory of what she had added to the avatar. “May I ask why?”
“He wants to talk to you about the coming test.”
“Really? How interesting. He’s concerned about my well-being, too,” Helen said dryly.
T. waved her ringed hand, signaling the end of the meeting, and headed for the exit. “Oh, by the way, he told me to ask you to think about Greek gods and their stories. He said you’d understand. Ciao, Hell.”
Helen frowned at that last comment. That VR trainer obviously loved to play games, just like T. Greek gods. Well, he was probably listening in when she was talking to Derek about her ideal man looking like a Greek god—a blond Greek god with chocolate eyes was what she had ordered. Now it made even more sense why he had picked the name Hades, the Greek god of the Underworld. Recalling that he’d known her nickname, she growled under her breath. She should have named him herself. She could see that he was going to be a challenge. A mischievous smile formed on her lips as she opened the door and sauntered out. A big challenge.
In a secret test facility, Virginia
“Okay, Agent 15, here’s your chance. Your operational status is green. Bilocate to target and tell us what you see.”
“Why is he shaking?”
Stop shaking. Concentrate, or you’ll lose their interest. Deep breath, deep breath…Zoom.
Dark. Dark. Tell them what you see…. “I see it now! Classified meeting. Nine men. Four in uniform, one with enough medals to add several pounds to his weight. Three in civilian suits and ties. Two in lab jackets. They are sitting in a half circle around a conference table, facing a media screen. Conversation is quiet, tense, with some of them shaking hands. Do you want me to go closer and get the conversation?”
“Jesus, I hate how we need to guide them through every step. Don’t they know that by asking them to look at the specific location, they’re supposed to get information? That means see and listen in, Agent 15, do you hear me? We want to know the person in charge of the new candidate.”
I hear you, fuckers. You’re my monitors and I’m remote viewing for you. What the hell do you want?
Zoom.
Random words. Relax. “Okay, I’m going to concentrate on their conversation now. I’ll tell you what I hear when I surface.”
Give them what they want. Come on, Andrew, you can do this. Concentrate on the one with all the medals. Yes, yes, the words are audible now….
The Pentagon
“They don’t have time to send talking heads to negotiate or discuss anything, Colonel. They functioned as a center for covert subversive training and activities, and the less said about what goes on in there, the better. It isn’t in the business to explain itself to anyone, even to the President’s most trusted men. Because of that, it’s a good neutral place to test our candidate.”
“Such as the multilateral test that’s coming up.” The colonel frowned, disapproval on his face.
“Yes. The best candidate just happens to be one of their own, so they’re sure to want a lot of control over the tests. COS Center’s operative won, so they get to set the rules. Some of them, anyway. This is a historic moment, though, don’t you agree? Nine government branches, active and covert, working together for national security?”
The colonel snorted and muttered something rude in connection with Homeland Security under his breath. Audio feed from the speaker interrupted the conversation and the scrambled signal on the video screen cleared. Everyone’s attention turned to the image addressing them.
“We’ve reviewed each of your task forces’ lab and training reports. You were sent a copy of each, and we have agreed that the Center’s test offer is by far the superior candidate of the program. So everyone here is on the same page, we’re going to quickly go through the subject’s profile in the file in front of you. The first page is the medical report from the D.I.A. scientists. The subject’s mental and physical health is stable at ninety percent. Her psychological evaluations prove a strong psyche and system of belief. Her decision-making tests are in the top percentile. The stress chart shows excellent capability in multitasking. Positives—good attentiveness, quick grasp of situations, fearlessness, has been pretrained outside. Negatives—a tendency to independence and secrecy.
“Second are the combined reports from the Special Forces trainers from Year One. Physical endurance is above normal and completion of the one-year training with Special Forces was above average. Subject passed basic and advanced tests.
“Third is acknowledgment from the CIA task force in charge of Project Inner Space from Year Two. Their report is classified Red. Acknowledgment that subject finished Phase Two of Project Inner Space and showed no signs of mental stress or behavioral changes.
“Four is FBI background reports. Subject, as are most operatives in this contract agency, is an orphan. No family history available. No attempt taken to look for natural mother and father. Contract agency will not release information. We see this as a nonissue.
“Here is what the Center will provide at the next stage. We’ll combine—”
Secret test facility, Virginia
No! Zoom!
No, no, please, no! Zoom!
“Dark, dark…oh, no…I can’t hear anything any more, sir. I tried to focus on the screen, to see who’s talking and…it just turned dark. I hear nothing now.” Blast of power. Really, really powerful energy. “I heard him but I couldn’t see…him.”
“Dammit, Agent 15! Zoom in. It’s important to identify him.”
They don’t understand. Too strong. “I tried…Can’t see any more.”
“Do it again, Agent. Zoom in. This is an order.”
“Tried.” Zoom. Dark, totally dark. “Tired. Mental block.”
“You’ll try again or there won’t be another dose, do you understand?”
“Please. I need…something…. Everything’s dark.”
“If it’s a mental block, you know you’d have felt it. Did you see any striking colors? Was there anything different?”
“No.” Don’t want to tell them yet about that odd feeling. Too hard to describe. They’ll start asking harder questions.
“Maybe he’s really used up for us. We should just get rid of him.”
“No, too risky for now. We have some information at least. The new toy is ready for some tests. We just have to find out more.”
“We’re already familiar with all those phases. Hell, we’ve done a majority of them. What is the Center doing that we haven’t tried?”
“Let’s make him look again. Maybe he’ll get something new. Agent 15, do you hear me? We need you to go back in after you write up what you saw.”
“Write? Are you nuts? Look at the drool on the bastard. He’s all washed up. There’s no control over him, even after giving him the remote coordinates. We need another one soon.”
“It isn’t like we don’t have a bunch of potentials in this facility but we have to do this slowly. They’re garbage but their minds aren’t.”
Say something or they’ll put you in that dark place again. No more dosage. No more happiness…say something quick! “Please! Please, please, I need it. Pain. Headache. Please.” Bands of steel tightening. “I need some rest to write the report. I promise…once…headache gone…I’ll look again. I’ll find out everything…. Please.”
“Give him another dose. We don’t have time for you to rest, 15. We know you like floating out there, messing with God knows what—”
Another dose? They’re giving me another dose so quickly? “Oh yes, I can do this with another dose. I’m ready, of course I’m ready.” I’ll stay away from the force this time. I’ll focus in on that voice and find out for them….
Zoom. Zoom. Oh, this is fine. Look at all the pretty lights moving so quickly. I don’t even have to adjust anything and I can still get them in focus! So cool. I don’t even need to hear the monitor’s voice anymore. No need to stay grounded anymore. What the hell for? I can stay out here and play with the lights….
COS COMMAND CENTER (COMCEN)
Kevin Kirkland liked standing where he was, listening in to the conversation that few were privileged to hear. Part of the reason came from knowing that no one from the Pentagon, except the other man in the room, knew that he was here. It put him in a trusted position, and he knew the man talking right now didn’t trust many people. Strangely enough, that was the topic of conversation at the moment.
“If you want her to trust me, then you’ll have to let me handle this my way. Her agency is now merged with mine, and I have more knowledge of GEM operation procedures than anyone in this room.”
The man’s voice was quiet and firm, with an underlying steeliness. From his angle, Kirkland had an excellent view of the wide screen. Four of the men were in uniform. The other five were heads of departments connected to high levels of national security. Their attention ranged from direct interest to skepticism.
“This is a Classified Flux type project. We’ve always monitored every operational target,” one of the men in uniform said. “This will be the first time we’re using an ordinary outside operative and giving her free rein to achieve a mission. You’re the monitor for us. Letting you handle this your way, as you put it, can put every mission in jeopardy.”
“The COS Center is possibly all Classified Flux, and we aren’t monitored in the way the military has to be, sir. I’m part of the V-Program, also a Classified Red project, and the success rate in our missions depended on our autonomy and secrecy. As for Miss Roston, I doubt anyone else would call her an ordinary operative, sir.”
“Aside from her being a woman, she’s still a contract agent, nothing we could count on,” one of the men pointed out.
“She’s from GEM and the operatives from there are highly regarded by every covert agency, national and foreign. COS Center has been working with them the last few years and our partnership has been very successful.
“Part of it is due to our training, but most of it is because of the ability of each operative to make quick decisions during his or her mission. In Miss Roston’s case, it becomes complicated with every agency—CIA, DIA, NSA, INSCOM just to name a few—having trained her and wanting to claim her as their own, if the experiment is a success. There is a danger of information dissemination, of too many cooks spoiling the broth. She’s GEM and therefore, she’s mine. This project belongs to COS.”
There was shocked silence as the men digested the speech.
“You’re saying that you want to make all the major decisions of every operational target, that we’re to listen to you?” The incredulity in the man’s voice echoed the stares of the others around the table.
“Yes. Have a good day, gentlemen.”
The man cut off the satellite feed and turned away from the screen. He punched the intercom on his desk. “Tell Derek to get the room ready.”
Now that the camera was off, Kirkland came forward. He’d listened in often enough to know exactly when to interrupt. He watched as his test patient unbuttoned his shirt with one hand while offering his other arm.
After a few minutes, Kirkland rubbed alcohol and drew blood, then checked his stats. He labeled the tubes, putting them away in a small case. “Same questions—no nicotine, alcohol or caffeine the past twelve hours?”
“No.”
“How’s the stress level today?”
“I haven’t killed anyone today.”
“At least you’re retaining your sense of humor after pissing off some of the most powerful men in our country.”
“It’s relaxing. You ought to try it sometime, Kirkland.”
“To each his own. Of course, I feel quite powerful now knowing that I have more information on what COS Center has been doing with Miss Roston.” The doctor smiled at the direct stare of the man in the chair. “Yes, I understand. That also means I’m potentially in more danger than most people.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t you worry they’ll axe you?”
“No.”
“Why, if I may ask?”
A glimmer of humor appeared in the other man’s eyes. “They don’t like working with each other, Kirkland. They hate having things out of their hands. Yet someone more powerful than they are is ordering them to continue this research, year after year. Why?”
Kirkland cleared his throat. The answer was pretty obvious. Everyone wanted their own COS success story. “Because covert and subversive training work?”
The man straightened his elbow and Kirkland placed the Band-Aid over his vein. “The success rate tells the story. And as long as it remains so, they won’t question how we run things here. We pick and choose what we do, and we give them the results.”
“It was nice to see you defending Miss Roston, especially with their remarks about her being a woman. After working with her these past few months, I find her more than just the test subject those people view her.”
“Really?”
“Don’t you like her? You’ve talked to her, seen her up close.”
There was a pause. The man stood up and buttoned his open shirt. “She does have a sense of humor.”
“Especially the way she made you up as in the VR program.”
“Is this relevant for your evaluation?”
“No. But I’m curious about your reaction, that’s all. How does it feel to be seen as something you aren’t?”
The usually serious face of the project monitor cracked a slight smile. “I’m not the one who needs psych evaluation, Doc. She is. I’ve been through enough tests in this lifetime to know what you’re up to.”
The doctor sighed. Closing the file, he tucked it under his arm. “I suppose that’s why you’re the best for this phase. You have the experience to guide her, especially if the serum doesn’t go well with her system.”
“The test dose will tell.”
“The previous tests with soldiers gave the exact results we wanted, although we don’t know the long-term effects. It’ll be doubly important with Miss Roston, who has been subjected to so many programs. She should be a mess, but she’s remarkably stable.”
“Yes, Kirkland, I can tell you like her. I’ll take care to keep her safe.”
Kirkland cleared his throat. He hadn’t wanted to appear too concerned for Miss Roston, but he’d gotten to like the young woman.
The intercom buzzed. “Derek’s ready, sir.”
“Is she asleep?”
“Yes.”
Dr. Kirkland picked up his case. “Shall we go?”
“Wait.”
The man turned on his monitor and flipped channels. Helen Roston’s room at the Center was all gray, just as her test required it to be. But the woman in there wasn’t gray. Even from where Kirkland stood, she emanated a vibrancy all her own. The way she slept, on the right side of the bed, blankets kicked off. The way her features were perfectly composed, a small smile still playing on her lips. The way she was dressed, in a small shirt and underwear. Gray, of course. The way one long naked leg was tucked under the other. Helen Roston obviously didn’t mind being monitored half-naked. Just like him—Kirkland returned his gaze to his patient.
“If I weren’t a doctor, I would feel this is an invasion of privacy,” Kirkland said.
“She signed the agreement. She knows we’ll be watching her when she undergoes sleep training here.”
“She thinks scientists and doctors are. Not you.”
The man glanced at Dr. Kirkland, a brow raised. “She’s a smart woman, Doc. She’s GEM. She has more training than you’ll ever know.” He returned his gaze to the sleeping woman. “She knows I’ve been watching her.”
“She’s even more remarkable then. But that’s good. She needs to trust you, or this isn’t going to work.”
The other man didn’t say anything as he continued looking at the screen. Kirkland didn’t interrupt any more, quietly waiting. He was used to the man staring at the test subject. It was the same intense stare every time, as if he was memorizing every detail of the sleeping woman. Kirkland wasn’t a psychologist; he wasn’t going to make any professional conclusion about that. As a scientist, he found this whole thing quite bizarre, but all experiments at the Center were bizarre.
The man next to him was probably one of the Center’s most successful experiments and at times, Kevin Kirkland wasn’t even sure he was human. His abilities were legendary. Kirkland glanced at the screen, then back at the man. What a pair. Helen stirred, stretched, and then turned the other way, tucking one hand between the bed and one leg.
“I’m ready.”
The elevator took them to a sealed chamber. It was gray, just like the other room. The man stripped without preliminaries and climbed onto the special bed. Kirkland adjusted the straps and the headrest that was similar to the one Helen Roston had in her room.
“You can skip the subliminal message tape.”
Dr. Kirkland paused, trying to hide his surprise. “There is no—”
“Doc. I know when my mind is being fucked with.”
How? Another mystery about the man. “I had orders.”
“I’m not angry. Just skip the subliminal loop. I’m as honest and loyal to the government as I’m ever going to get. You can choose to tell them that or not.”
“I’ll have to tell them that if I change any order of the test.”
The man reached out, caught hold of Dr. Kirkland’s wrist. “I’m no longer a test. She is.”
“You’re part of it,” Kirkland reminded calmly. He sighed. “I won’t put on the subliminal text.”
The man released him and settled back comfortably. “Is she on theta wave yet?”
The doctor read the panel on the brain entrainment machine. The tonal frequencies were specifically designed to merge the brain waves of both right and left sides of the hemisphere. “No. Beta.”
The man closed his eyes. “Don’t get on theta till she’s in REM state.”
“Why do you want her to be dreaming when we hit theta?”
“Just do it, Doc.”
Kirkland nodded and dimmed the lights. His other orders had been to follow the man’s intuition when it came to the tests. This sounded like one of them.
“Good night.”
“Good night, Doc.”
Kirkland punched the code to lock the chamber and took the elevator to the next level. Derek turned around, the audible tones from the two machines in the background.
“We aren’t using the subliminal tape for Chamber B tonight, Derek. And we’re going to wait till Miss Roston hits REM before theta stage.”
“Why, Dr. Kirkland? Are we now monitoring her dreams?”
“No, we have enough on our plate with this operation. We don’t need that.” Yet. He didn’t know. “Adjust the template.”
The monitors only showed the brain waves and breathing patterns of the subjects. The panel registered the vitals and different changes through the sleep session. There was privacy for Miss Roston, even if she didn’t know it. As for the other…that display was top-secret and even Derek didn’t have the clearance to know his identity.
“Alpha wave,” announced Derek.
That man could fall asleep at will. Even after three months of watching it happen, Kirkland was amazed at the man’s total control. He checked Helen Roston’s monitor. She had started Rapid Eye Movement, usually the period when dreams happened.
“Slow down to theta, Derek.”
The doctor opened his case and pulled out the files to make his notations. There was nothing unusual at the slowed-down readings. Over the intercom Helen Roston let out a soft snore and a tiny purr.
Four
She dove in after him. He was like some magical sea creature—beautifully formed, sleek and powerful, and very, very fast. She wanted to get close and see all of him. Circling around in the dark waters, she lost sight of him between the rocks and shadows. She couldn’t hold her breath any longer and struggled upwards. She’d swum too deep. She would never make it to the surface. A powerful arm curved around her waist. She turned. She couldn’t see but she knew it was him. She put her arms around him, holding tight as he seemed to shoot through the water like a rocket. Somehow, she’d known he would be there to get her out.
The first thing Helen heard was the tick-tock of the clock. She opened her eyes slowly. It didn’t surprise her anymore, waking up and hearing things louder than they should be. All her senses, especially her hearing, were usually magnified when her mind was in between sleeping and waking. Sometimes she fancied she heard conversations but that could be just part of her dreams.
She stretched out her arms over her head and gave a yawn. Dreams. She had always had vivid dreams; it was something she didn’t tell anyone, not since she had been in the second foster home with a strict ultrareligious family. She cracked her knuckles as she continued staring at the clock, watching the second hand slowly moving around.
Strange. She couldn’t clearly remember last night’s dreams as usual. Frowning, she focused inward. She’d been dreaming but it didn’t feel right, as if she had been observing from the outside. She concentrated harder. She remembered the sounds of the ocean and someone swimming. Watching, she’d held her breath, waiting for the person to surface, but she hadn’t been able to keep up. She’d given in, and sucked in big gasps of breaths.
That was all. How odd. She’d never had a swimming dream before, especially in the ocean; she didn’t like open seas. And that feeling of disengagement…she tried to find a description…like…hmmm, like she didn’t belong.
Helen laughed and rubbed a hand over her eyes. God, she would go insane if she did this to herself every day. It was probably them fucking with her mind. That had to be it. She knew what was going on while she was sleeping. She had signed an agreement allowing them to hook her up to their machines while they experimented with her. It was called Human Use Agreement and reading it had made her laugh. This must be one of their experiments. No doubt they would ask her whether she had been dreaming later.
Her eyes drifted to the camera on the wall. They had told her there were no microeyes, just that thing on the wall, and if she needed to, she could switch it off. She had grinned at the facilities director who told her that, and had innocently asked whether they were telling her she had the privacy to masturbate if she felt like it. The poor woman’s face had lit up like a bad rash. Dr. Kirkland had choked.
Helen didn’t know what had prompted her to embarrass the poor woman like that. It was just a defensive mechanism, the knowledge that there was to be no privacy making her feel even more outrageous. Subtlety had never been her strong suit, after all.
The red blinking light on the camera signified that it was on, that someone was watching right now. “Good morning,” she called out conversationally, giving the camera a little wave. With her arms above her head, and her bare tummy showing, she must look provocative. She wondered whether it was Derek or Dr. Kirkland watching her at this hour. Poor guys didn’t get any sleep. “You know, it’s awfully nice of you to let me know when you’re watching. The Center is more considerate than the CIA quarters. They wanted to see everything most of the time. I found six microeyes hidden in places where they weren’t supposed to be, naughty bad CIA boys.”
She scooted up, flinging untidy tresses from her face. “You could send in some breakfast. That would be ever so nice. I mean, even lab rats get fed.” She tilted her head to one side, gave the camera a wink. “How about it, Doc?”
She gave a sigh and rolled off the bed. She hadn’t made any close friends here at the Center. Dr. Kirkland was nice but one couldn’t get too close to a man who took notes on everything one did. So she amused herself by talking like an idiot just to throw them off.
Training like this was tough on the mind. There was no one to whom she could confide most of the time because everyone was scrutinizing her, reporting on her activities and her thoughts. She’d grown used to being flippant about everything, even when she was in pain. She grimaced. No doubt that, too, got reported.
Whatever. She must have been doing the right things because she’d passed every phase of their tests. She was almost “operational,” as they called it—validated to work on real targets. The coming final test was it. There wasn’t any fear of failure in her mind at all. She was anxious to get going.
There was a small buzz as someone outside keyed in the security code to her chamber. The door swished open and the facilities director appeared with a tray in her hands. Helen blinked in surprise. Oh wow. They had sent her breakfast.
“Good morning.” As usual, the woman didn’t have any expression on her face at all as she set down the tray on a nearby table. She was dressed in gray, just like the surroundings. Helen wondered whether she had orders to do that. “They told me you asked for breakfast.”
“Oh, umm, yeah, but now I feel terrible because they made you bring it.” Helen studied the woman for a second, still wondering the exact duties of a facilities director.
The woman placed an envelope beside the tray. “Here are your instructions today. There’s plenty of time for breakfast.”
“Thank you. Tell Dr. Kirkland thanks for getting me this, too,” Helen said, sitting down.
The woman paused at the door. “It wasn’t Dr. Kirkland who ordered your breakfast, Miss Roston.”
Nice exit line. Helen was now totally convinced they were messing with her. Oh well. She wasn’t going to bite anything but her breakfast. Too early in the day to play mind games. Strawberries and pears. Yummy. Either a lucky guess or somebody knew her favorite fruits. Of course they knew. She sniffed at the shake. It smelled of banana. There wasn’t any coffee, of course, although she would love a cup to start the day.
She took a tentative gulp of her shake. It didn’t taste bad; there was more to it than milk and banana ice cream, though. She took another swallow, trying to figure out the tart aftertaste.
She picked up the envelope and slit it open with the knife. Settling back in her chair, one leg carelessly over the other, she began to read the instructions for the day. She laughed.
The first line was: “It’s protein powder and some vitamins in the shake. Drink it up.”
Picking up the glass, she gave the blinking camera a mocking toast. They had a sense of humor around here. She resumed reading.
“Morning schedule. VR session. Lunch Break. Psychoanalysis session. Break. Pretest prep. Questions and Answers. Break. Use this time to mentally prepare yourself. Please have a good snack before your big session. Time of meeting will be given during Q and A. Good luck.”
It sounded like a school schedule and the beginning of the old TV show Mission Impossible all mixed together. Of course, now that she had brought it up, the stupid TV tune was going to play in her head all day.
Humming the ditty, Helen finished her breakfast. Today was the big day. She was the star of the show so she had better look good. She knew from scuttlebutt that some of the agencies were against the choice of a contract agent as the test candidate, and she was determined to prove them wrong. She loved challenges.
By the time she stepped out of the elevator, she had half an hour to spare before her VR session. The Center had twelve levels, as far as she’d been able to count. She was allowed access to only six of them. It had taken a while to find her way around the place because the inside didn’t look anything like the building outside. Its interior was like an octopus, with different tentacles winging out. She had yet to find time to explore them all.
Turning the corner, she bumped into Flyboy. He must have just finished training. Shirtless, with a towel hanging from his shoulders, he looked tan and luscious.
“Hey there, gorgeous!” He whistled as he leaned a brown and muscular shoulder against the wall.
That line should have been hers. The man was one beautiful specimen. He had the body of a gymnast, trim and well-balanced. Six feet of male musculature. Being a pilot, he wasn’t built like a fighter, but nothing about him was soft. Was there any part of him that was imperfect? She eyed the silver chain dangling just above his impressive chest, her gaze trailing down the well-defined washboard abs to the stringed sweatpants riding low on his slim hips. Her eyes slid back up to meet his. His sexy blue ones gleamed back invitingly.
“You look like a walking soap commercial,” Helen drawled. The man knew his effect on women and didn’t try to hide it. She sniffed. “Unfortunately, you stink.”
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