‘We need to move you now,’ he said apologetically. ‘You will both receive individual treatment, in individual rooms. I am afraid you will never see each other again.’
He watched Lynn and Adams stare at each other, desperation creeping unbidden across their faces for the first time.
His features softened. ‘Did you know of your condition, Dr Edwards?’ he asked.
Lynn frowned. ‘What condition?’ she asked uneasily.
Steinberg looked at her with pity. ‘I’m sorry you have to hear this from me, and in this place of all places, but… you are pregnant, Dr Edwards.’
18
The shock was writ large across Lynn’s face. She looked at Adams, who looked just as shocked. ‘Wh-what?’ she stammered, even as the doctors moved towards them, liquid dripping from the ends of their needles.
‘You are pregnant,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘Eight days.’
Lynn didn’t have to do the calculation; she knew it must have been when they had made love in the desert after their escape from Chile.
‘I am afraid that we cannot alter the eventual outcome of our procedures,’ Steinberg said apologetically. ‘But we will try and make the process as comfortable as possible. And for what it is worth, I am sorry.’
Lynn just looked ahead blankly, her brain frozen. She was pregnant. She was going to be a mother. And Matt was the father, which was exactly what he had wanted all those years ago, the big issue that had eventually led to them splitting up.
And now here they were, reunited and with a child at last, with only the promise of death to look forward to.
Adams stared at Lynn, not believing what he had just heard, still trying to process it. Lynn was pregnant?
And to be told that she was still to be interrogated and killed, along with his unborn child?
He knew the doctors were going to inject them with some sort of anaesthetic so they could be transferred peacefully and without struggle to the gurneys positioned adjacent to them. They would then be wheeled off to other rooms, where the ‘fun’ would really start.
The leather straps that secured his arms and legs to the chair were tight; he had already tried to struggle free of them on the aeroplane on the flight over. But he knew this in his conscious mind only, and as he watched the doctor approach Lynn and their unborn baby, hypodermic needle reaching for her bare arm as the guard moved into position next to her, this conscious part of his mind collapsed entirely, leaving only his raw, animal self, a visceral beast that operated on pure, unbridled instinct.
He roared, his body convulsing against the straps, muscles bulging as they contracted against the straining leather, his back arching off the chair. His eyes were popping out of his head, a feral look on his face, and it appeared that his entire body was going to break in half.
‘Secure him!’ Steinberg yelled to the guard next to him, who had been surprised into inaction by Adams’ sudden, violent convulsion. ‘Get that needle into him!’ he shouted at the doctor, even as Adams’ body contracted again, and again, and again, the straps straining more and more each time.
The other guard ran across to him from Lynn’s side, and both men tried to force Adams back into his chair, pushing his arms down as his body continued its violent, unpredictable convulsions.
The doctor tried to aim his syringe at the right point, but Adams’ thrashing body meant that he couldn’t see his target well enough to get a clear shot. One of the guards reached for the taser on his belt, pulling it clear of its holster and pressing it towards Adams.
But then Adams convulsed again, even stronger this time, and screamed at the top of his lungs — a piercing, animalistic howl that penetrated deep into the people around him, causing them to recoil for just a split second.
In that brief fraction of time, the leather strap that had been securing his right wrist finally gave way. In the next instant, Adams’ free hand snaked out and gripped the wrist of the guard holding the taser, violently jerking it towards the doctor.
The contacts jammed into the doctor’s body, sending 50,000 volts of electricity into the man, shutting down his system completely. He dropped to the ground, the hypodermic needle spilling across the metallic floor.
In the same movement, Adams continued to twist the guard’s arm, even as his entire body continued to convulse in violent anger. And then the second strap gave way and his left hand was free, grasping the second guard’s belt and pulling him close, straight on to the taser.
The guard fell to the floor unconscious, and Adams — straps still securing his ankles — rose slightly out of the chair, catching the guard in front of him with a punch to the jaw. Disorientated, the guard was powerless to stop Adams bending his arm back on itself, the taser electrocuting its owner.
With three men unconscious on the floor, Adams immediately switched to the other two — the man with the hypodermic still dangerously close to Lynn, and Steinberg who seemed to be stuck to the spot, mouth open in disbelief.
Then the man with the needle leaped towards Lynn, and Adams threw the taser straight at him. Not waiting to see if it struck the target, he bent down, quickly unfastening the straps round his legs. As he did so, he heard the impact of the small metal unit and a grunt from the doctor.
He looked up, and launched himself at the man with the needle, who was heading back to Lynn after the momentary distraction of the thrown taser. Adams crashed into him, driving him forcefully backwards into the wall, knocking the breath from him. He collapsed to the floor, and Adams sent a knee straight into his face, slamming his head back violently into the metal wall.
Adams turned and saw Steinberg still staring, still not reacting. And then, as Steinberg saw the murderous intent in Adams’ eyes, he finally moved, reaching for the wall-mounted electronic intercom.
Adams snatched the taser from the floor and raced towards him, punching it hard into Steinberg’s neck just as his hand touched the button. His body went stiff, and he collapsed to the floor.
Adams kicked him violently in the gut — once, twice, three times, violence emanating from his body. He picked his foot up high, ready to deliver the coup de grâce.
‘No!’ Lynn shouted, and the spell was broken. Adams put down his foot and looked round.
‘We’re going to need him if we’re ever going to get out of this place alive,’ she said.
It took less than five minutes to fully secure the two guards and scientists, who were starting to come round. Adams bound their hands and feet and gagged them, before hitting them with another 50,000 volts for good measure. He had no desire to kill them but he didn’t want to take any chances, and he figured that the longer he could keep them unconscious, the better.
With Lynn, he placed Dr Steinberg in one of the wheelchairs, securing him just as they had been only minutes before. They pocketed the Sig Sauer pistols carried by the guards, along with their radios, and moved towards the laboratory door.
Adams had noticed that, other than the two-way mirror, there were no cameras in the room. Presumably, given the location, it was thought unnecessary to monitor things too closely down here; security would normally take care of itself. But he was also very conscious that there would now be two missing guards.
‘Where’s the guard post?’ he asked Steinberg, who looked up at him through drowsy eyes.
‘One floor up,’ the doctor murmured, still struggling to recover fully.
‘How many?’
‘On that floor?’ Steinberg asked. ‘About thirty, but they cover three floors.’ As a professional interrogator, he realized that resistance was futile, and he might just as well tell the truth right from the start. They would probably kill him anyway, but he would at least spare himself a lot of pain.