Part 30 (1/2)

”On the table,” Harris said. ”Strap him down and remove his shoes.”

Nate tensed. Shoes?

”What...what are you doing?” Berkeley asked again.

”Remove the hood.”

A pause, then Berkeley said, ”Oh, G.o.d. No! Please, no!”

”It's going to happen one way or another, so there's no use struggling,” Harris told him.

For the next few minutes, there was only the sound of movement.

”We're ready,” Harris finally announced.

”Proceed,” the old man told him.

The hum started up again.

”Oh, G.o.d, oh, G.o.d, oh, G.o.d,” Berkeley repeated.

Without warning, the volume of the hum increased, and Berkeley's pleading became a guttural, stuttering groan. This lasted several seconds before the hum decreased. Berkeley sounded like a balloon giving up its last bit of air.

Electroshock. There was no question. And from what Harris said earlier, at least one of the electrodes must have been attached to a foot. That was a big, big problem. While the synthetic material around Nate's faux foot was good, it wasn't skin. Even if they didn't notice it, which he was sure they would, the material would melt as the ma.s.sive amount of electricity shot through it.

”Again,” the old man said.

The hum increased, sending another shock through Berkeley's system.

Next up was Lanier. He made no struggle or pleas for divine intervention. The only thing he said after he was strapped in was, ”What are you waiting for?”

”Next?” Harris asked.

”Him,” the old man said.

This time the hands seized Nate. He let them maneuver him to a table.

”Here. Let me help,” he said. He kicked off his left shoe before the hands moved to his feet.

What he didn't know was if they needed both or just one.

As the bag was removed from his head, he looked down to see a man remove his left sock and place an electrode against the sole of his foot. His right shoe, the one on his artificial leg, was left untouched.

He was so relieved that he barely noticed as they placed the secured electrodes to his body.

”Ready,” Harris said.

”Proceed.”

All thoughts vanished from Nate's mind as every nerve in his body caught fire. There was no time, no place, no nothing. Just a brilliant spike of white, searing pain.

He suddenly found himself lying on the table, panting. Throughout his body, muscles contracted and stretched on their own. He could still feel the electric current under his skin like it was a living thing, randomly jumping from one part of his body to another.

”Again,” the old man said.

Before Nate could even register the word, oblivion descended again.

CHAPTER 38.

THEY TOOK A room in a hotel near the center of Tampico that Orlando deemed to have adequate Wi-Fi coverage.

While she buried herself in her laptop, Quinn tried calling Misty, but only got through to her voice mail. He left a message, then called Steve Howard.

”She wanted me to stay here at her place,” Howard said. ”Said she'd be back within a few hours.”

”Where did she go?” Quinn asked.

”To get something for you, I gathered, but she wouldn't say where that was.”

”You should have gone with her.”

”Oh, I know. I actually did try to follow her, but d.a.m.n if that woman didn't give me the slip. Are we sure she was only Peter's a.s.sistant?”

Quinn told him to call back as soon as she returned, and hung up.

Waiting was a prominent part of a cleaner's job. If you weren't good at it, you might as well find some other profession. But this wasn't waiting for someone to give him the signal to remove a body. This was waiting for information other people were gathering for him, and it made him feel restless.

”Anyone else hungry?” he asked, needing to do something. ”I'll go out and see what I can find.”

”I'll join you,” Daeng said, pus.h.i.+ng himself off one of the beds.

”No, I'll go.” Liz jumped up.

Even Orlando looked up in surprise.

Quinn headed for the door. ”All right. Come on.”

There was no need to use the car. There were plenty of places within walking distance to pick up a meal.

For the first few minutes, neither of them spoke as they headed down the street.

As they neared a few restaurants, Quinn said, ”Any preference?”

”Mexican?” she said.

”Very funny.”