Brimstone Blues

Chapter Twenty-One

Gerard scowled, looking at his phone before answering. “Yes?”

The voice on the other end sounded timid, hesitant. “We’ve had a complication.”

He growled. “What complication?”

The caller cleared his throat. “Timon has been incarcerated.”

“WHAT?”

The caller talked fast, out of fear. “Apparently his role was discovered by Hawthorne. He is now in custody under the Tribunal’s control.”

Gerard almost threw his phone. “Where are you?”

“I’m on my way to Gatwick right now, booked on a flight to Berlin leaving in two hours. I can’t stay here. Timon didn’t have my name, but depending on what interrogation methods they use, they might be able to discover what I look like.”

“Do we have anyone else we can use?”

“No, sir. Not at this time.”

“I. Am not. Happy.”

“I understand that, but I am not the one who made the initial plans.”

“You will contact me immediately upon reaching Berlin, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

Gerard hung up and screamed for his assistant. The man instantly appeared in the office doorway. “There is a flight from Gatwick to Berlin in two hours, and that operative is on it. I want his head on my desk in seventy-two hours, do I make myself clear?”

The assistant blanched but nodded and left to make the arrangements.

Only then did Gerard throw the cell phone against the wall. It shattered, leaving a dent where it impacted. He’d have to move up his alternate plans.

How could it be so difficult to get their hands on a single goddamn woman? Fucking cheap help.

He sat behind his desk and made a call on his secure phone. It took a moment for it to connect. On the other end, a man answered in Portuguese.

“Olá.”

“It’s me.”

“Como vai?” The male voice switched to thickly accented English. “To what I owe this honor?”

“There’s been a change of plans. I need you to speed up your research.”

There was a brief pause. “You have not acquired her?”

“No. We’re going with the alternate plan. How long?”

“You want it right, or you want it fast?”

“Fast.”

“Probably two years.”

Gerard fought the urge to crush the phone in his hand. “And if I want it right?”

“Five. For you, I rush things. We forego advance testing.”

“That’s the best you can do?”

The doctor’s deep, rich laugh rolled over the line. “You are an impatient…how you say, bastardo.”

This was the only man on the face of the planet that Gerard would tolerate this kind of talk from, because he was the only one on the face of the planet capable of the work going on in his Brazilian lab.

“You’ll find out what kind of bastardo I can be if you don’t deliver as promised. I already have an order for one head to be brought to my desk. Yours could be alongside it.”

Another rich, rolling laugh. “We have this talk how many times, my old friend? You know I do my best. You do not want to make matters worse, do you? We move too soon, it might make your life hell, not heaven. For a man your age, you should know patience.”

“I’ve waited far too long already.”

“No, you not wait nearly long enough.” The doctor’s voice hardened. “You know we cannot be too careful. You want what you want, but we fuck this up, you might get more than you bargained. Remember the Alpha experiments?”

Gerard remembered, shuddering. One of the few thoughts that could elicit that reaction from him. Yet again another reason he tolerated the doctor’s insolence. He’d tried to hire cheap help and it nearly destroyed them all. “All right. Fine. You’ve got carte blanche, whatever you need, just get it done.”

“Muito bem. You see reason. See? You not so bad.”

“Are your test subjects still viable?”

“Sim. Yes. They are kept in different locations and serviced by different staff. Inconvenient, but necessary. The man is our focus right now. He’s easier, more pliable nature. We must keep the woman heavily sedated, she much stronger. But that interferes with results. We use her as backup.”

“And the child?”

“Eh, she is a handful with much potential.”

“Keep me posted.”

“Não se preocupe. Do not worry, my friend. All good things to those who wait, no?”

The doctor hung up, and Gerard looked at the receiver. He’d already waited over ten years and was still no closer to his goal. He should have snatched her years ago, in the beginning, when she was vulnerable after their first failed attempt to acquire her. He’d heeded advice to wait and watch over fears of triggering Hawthorne’s suspicions. At least he had three guinea pigs to test on, and no one knew they were even alive.

Especially the girl.

He dropped the receiver onto the phone and leaned back, smiling. He was already one up on Hawthorne, wasn’t he? Despite all his money and skill and age, Hawthorne and his cousin failed to pierce through his carefully cultivated network. Not to mention Rafael Collins was dead.

He’d already won the first skirmish in this war, and Hawthorne didn’t even know a battle had been waged.

Perfect.