They took a few more turns and went down a set of stairs to an underground sublevel before entering a large, open area. It was an absolute mess. Tables of overturned equipment created barriers that had to be negotiated. Broken glass and twisted, jagged metal threatened to scratch or impale anyone who wandered too closely.
“This is the main research area,” their guide said. “There are holding pens another level down, those are filled with dead infected. The stronger ones ate the weaker ones inside the cages, until eventually they died too. The really weird part—if anything could be considered weirder than anything else—are those cells along the back wall.”
Hannah followed the guide’s outstretched hand to a row of about ten cells. Heavy metal bars set into cinder block walls created a formidable holding cell for something. It seemed much more secured than an average jail cell would have been. What were they doing here? she wondered.
Several of the doors were open and the cells were empty except for a small counter with notes or paperwork. The open cells seemed to be mostly undisturbed, with the bulk of the damage occurring out here in the main research space. The cells with closed doors held a more chilling discovery. Inside of them, Hannah saw gurneys with decomposing bodies strapped to them. Each cell held one person. They appeared to have been performing individual experiments on each victim.
“It’s some weird, fucked up shit, sir,” the soldier who’d led them in stated. “Doc’s back there in those cages taking a look.”
The major nodded and headed toward the holding cells, so Hannah followed him. He’d said to stay with him, so that’s what she intended to do. They came up to the doctor as he leafed through a notebook. “Hey, sir. What have you been able to find out?” the major said as a way of greeting to the lieutenant colonel inside the cells. Hannah had seen the situation hundreds of times over here career. Major Edmunds, the infantry officer, was the mission commander, even though Lieutenant Colonel Lawrence, the medical doctor, outranked him.
“Jim, Miss Dunn,” the doctor replied. He pointed at the notebook and said, “This is pretty interesting stuff. Medical sketches and notes in Korean in one cell, same sort of stuff in Arabic in another. We’re gonna collect it all.” His hand lifted toward the walls. “You see these pictures, here?”
Hannah looked up and noticed the walls were covered in pictures of a woman strapped to a gurney. It appeared to be over a period of time as her features gradually changed, becoming more sunken in and malnourished. In the final picture, if they were in chronological order, she appeared to be fully infected.
“Yeah?” the major replied. “What are they doing?”
“I’d say they were trying to perfect the virus,” Doctor Lawrence replied. “But we won’t be sure until we can have these journals translated.”
“Fucked up shit.”
“Agreed. I spent a little bit of time in the open cells, can’t get into the closed ones. There’s something really interesting about the one on the end. Come on, let me show you.”
He closed the book and gestured for one of the men to collect everything. “All of these patients appear to be from one of the local Indian tribes. But, this guy here. He seems to be…”
Hannah didn’t hear anything else that the doctor said. A loud buzzing exploded in her mind as she attempted to process what she saw on the walls of the final cell.
Grady Harper’s steel gray eyes stared back at her across time. He bore several cuts and scabs that turned to scars in the subsequent pictures, but it was still him. The man she’d known for only a few months, but had wanted to learn everything about, had been in this cell. She thought the entire team was dead. It turned out that she’d left Grady to die here as part of a sick and twisted experiment.
“What happened to this man?” she blurted out, cutting the doctor off mid-sentence.
“Uh…excuse me? I was—”
“That’s Grady Harper. The CIA team lead that was here with me a year ago.”
Major Edmunds’ head whipped from her to the pictures on the wall before turning in a full circle. “Where’s the gurney?”
“What?” Doctor Lawrence asked, looking around as well. “Huh. I hadn’t noticed. You’re right, the gurney isn’t in here.” He walked to the counter and opened a few drawers. “The logbook is missing as well.”
“What does that mean?” Hannah asked.
“I don’t know,” the doctor admitted. “It’s not in his cell though.”
“What does that mean?” she repeated, pleading this time. “Where’s Grady?”
21
MANHATTAN, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK
MARCH 7TH
Grady came awake instantly as ice cold water splashed over him. Where was he? His mind felt sluggish and his back ached. He needed to piss. He tried to change position to relieve the pain and realized his hands were tied behind his back. Panic threatened to overwhelm him. Was he back in the facility with the scientists? Were the freedoms he’d enjoyed recently only in his mind? Was that it? Had he finally broken and lost his sanity?
He thrashed around, trying to pull his hands apart. A boot landed in his gut, forcing a small amount of urine from him.
“Oof!” he grunted.
“I said wake up, cocksucker.”
English. That meant he wasn’t back in the Iranian facility. But since he was tied up, he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. He could see several pairs of boots and tennis shoes, but that was all. Grady craned his neck to see who his attackers were. A bunch of Hispanic dudes.
“Wha?” He was groggy and had no recollection of how he’d been captured. He’d gone hunting, bagged
