Bringer Unleashed (Logan Bringer Series Book 2) Read online

  Bernard frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I can tell a beginner from a pro. That guy was adept at what he did,” I explained. “Unlike me, he was no amateur. He demonstrated a firm grasp and control of his abilities. That tells me that he’d been using his skills a lot longer than me. No, not using, practicing.”

  I could see the muscles in Bernard’s face tighten.

  …does he know, and how much?

  “Continuance Corporation,” I said.

  “What about them?” Bernard asked.

  “They beat you to it, didn’t they?” I challenged. “They may have stolen Nuclegene’s early research, but they were successful first, weren’t they?”

  Bernard’s fallen features said it all.

  “It’s entirely possible,” he conceded. “But it would be better if that information remained between us.”

  “So, let’s be honest with each other, shall we?”

  “Fair enough,” he said. “After what just took place in this city, the U.S. government is spinning on its head right now. They’re afraid that more telekinetics are out there waiting to strike again. Whether on behalf of foreign governments or terrorist organizations, it makes no difference.

  “The point is the U.S. wants to lead the way on this and not get left behind. However, other world governments feel that way, as well. This situation has quickly escalated to a battle between world powers, both preeminent and burgeoning,” he said. “And right now, our company is the only legitimate organization who can offer the U.S. government what it desires most…foot soldiers with telekinetic abilities.”

  “And what if an organization like Continuance wants to compete with you?” I asked.

  “By long-standing tradition, the U.S. doesn’t negotiate with terrorists,” he replied.

  “Yeah, right,” I said. “You ever heard of Iran-Contra? The U.S. may not officially negotiate with terrorist groups, but they damned sure cut deals with them on occasion. In my experience, political expediency trumps ideology nearly every time.”

  “Fair enough. However, in this case, let’s say for the sake of argument that I’m right,” he said. “If Continuance is out of the equation, per say.”

  “Based upon what we know, which I believe isn’t a helluva lot, that might leave only your company then,” I said.

  He nodded. “That’s right, Mr. Bringer. Nuclegene Corporation is the only company who’s solely positioned to supply the U.S. with what it wants most.”

  “What’s to keep old Uncle Sam from taking your formulas and research from you? Developing it themselves?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “They won’t. It’s too expensive a venture for them. Besides, there are all of those unpleasant rules and regulations they’d have to negotiate.”

  I hated to admit that he was probably right about that.

  “No, the government will let us continue unabated,” he said. “They’ll permit us take the risks and front the expense, plus they’ll have plausible deniability if things go horribly wrong. Nuclegene would be their scapegoat.”

  “Things have already gone horribly wrong,” I said. “So, I’ll ask again, just what are you expecting from me?”

  He smiled. “Join our Nuclegene family,” he said. “Let us study you and your abilities to help us refine our replication process.”

  “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a little preoccupied with working alongside the FBI right now,” I said. “Plus, Continuance made the mistake of threatening my family, and I plan to bring them to account for that.”

  “I don’t see that as a problem,” he said. “The government is anxious to take advantage of someone with your abilities. I’m sure that a mutually-beneficial arrangement can be established between all parties.”

  “I’m working with them already,” I said.

  “Yes, working perhaps, but for no compensation whatsoever,” he countered. “By contrast, we’ll make it worth your while to come aboard. And let’s be frank, Mr. Bringer, the U.S government’s radar is rather full at this time with much larger concerns. They don’t exactly have you or your family’s best interests at heart.”

  “And you do?” I challenged.

  “Unlike the government, we happen to think that you’re the most important person on the planet right now,” he said.

  “On the contrary, the government seems rather interested in me as of late,” I said.

  “Because they need you. You’re their only hope against the unknown telekinetic threat. Of course, they’re equally scared about what you can do, or what you may grow to become,” he said. “Granted, you’re not proving to be an overt threat in their eyes quite yet. Right now, you’re an asset.”

  “I’ve already proven quite helpful to them,” I said.

  “They may appreciate your assistance, but they’re hardly focused on meeting your needs or even investing in a commitment to you for compensation of any kind.

  “For example, what would happen if you became injured during your exploits? I suspect that the prospects of your meager employment with the tag agency is all but finished, which changes your eligibility status as a prospective resident in Nevis Corners. Then consider how long you can maintain even a Spartan lifestyle with no source of income,” he challenged. “With Nuclegene, your every need would be our concern. We can provide you with a full-featured and sizeable compensation package. And there are other favorable terms. For example, we can, and will, protect your family, Mr. Bringer.”

  I almost laughed. “Seriously? You expect to protect them from somebody like me, or worse?”

  “A reasonable challenge,” he replied. “However, at least we will do far better than a sole patrol officer in a vehicle parked outside of your family’s house.”

  Something in the way that he said that irritated me. “Just how closely has your company been keeping an eye on me and my family?”

  He appeared momentarily unsettled. “I can assure you that we have maintained a courteous and respectful distance from you and your family,” he carefully replied. “Although I can well imagine that Continuance Corporation and agencies within our government, or other governments for that matter, might be tracking you and your relatives. Yet another reason to accept my company’s offer of protection. Think of the array of resources that we can place at your disposal.”

  Before I could say more, our food arrived, and aside from small talk, I spent the majority of the meal silently contemplating what was said, including topics relating to the continuing threats to my family.

  My appearance on the world stage, along with my agitation to Continuance, was the reason that my family had become a target. If anything happened to my parents, my sister or her husband and children, I’d never forgive myself.

  But I felt ill-equipped to negotiate on any prospective contract until I had time to discuss it with Sanders.

  She was not only smart, but perhaps savvier than anyone I knew. And I trusted her advice.

  By the time we finished eating, I realized that I needed to stall for more time. Not surprisingly, I didn’t need to read Bernard’s mind to know that he was anxious for my decision. If I hadn’t reminded him of my six o’clock meeting, he might have sat there all evening pressuring to convince me.

  “Give me a couple of days,” I said. “I’ll give you a decision by this Friday.”

  He nodded, but I could tell he was disappointed. He appeared reflective as we walked outside to the waiting limousine.

  “Nuclegene Corporation is receiving significant pressure from the government. They’re insistent about seeing our project come to fruition again with live subjects,” he said.

  “They want people to deploy into the field,” I said.

  “Very perceptive, Mr. Bringer,” he said.

  “It’s less perception and more simply field tactics,” I said.

  “In case you hadn’t noticed, Mr. Bringer, we have a security-conscious administration in the White House. And a primary focus of theirs is perception, particularly
when it comes to national security,” he said, lightly rubbing the opposing tips of his fingers against one other. “Add to that, the President’s party narrowly controls both houses of Congress. They can’t afford any national security mistakes on their watch; not with mid-term elections coming up next year. There’s much more riding on this than you may realize; much more than merely money.

  “What I’m offering you, Mr. Bringer, is not only an opportunity to be part of something lucrative, but something historic,” he said.

  My eyes narrowed. “What exactly is the government promising your company, Mr. Bernard?”

  His response ended upon the arrival of Agents Sanders and Foster, who had pulled up behind the limo in their government-issued sedan.

  I scanned the immediate area for the vehicle that I had spotted when we arrived. “Great timing, guys. Trouble?” I asked as they exited their sedan.

  “Nope,” Foster said. “We’re clear here.”

  “Denton was afraid that you might forget our appointment,” Sanders said.

  I turned to Mr. Bernard to shake his hand.

  “Thanks for dinner, Mr. Bernard, but I’m afraid I have to go now,” I offered. “I enjoyed our chat.”

  “As did I,” he replied, handing a business card to me. “Please think seriously about what we talked about. My personal number is on the card, so please call me anytime, day or night. At the very least, I hope to hear from you by Friday.”

  I pocketed his card. “I don’t know any other way to take this but seriously. Either way, as promised, you’ll have my answer by Friday.”

  * * *

  As Foster and Sanders sat up front, I sat in the back seat staring out the side window mulling over everything Bernard had said during dinner.

  “Did you intercept whoever was sitting in that car down the street from the restaurant” I asked.

  “Nope,” Foster replied. “They had already left the area by the time our folks arrived on scene.”

  I couldn’t help but wonder who ‘they’ might be. CIA, perhaps? Continuance?

  It was enough to make a person paranoid.

  One of my army buddies had once told me, “Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean that someone’s not out to get you.”

  “How was your dinner?” Sanders asked.

  I broke from my reverie. “Great,” I replied. “Had a tasty well-done filet. How about you?”

  “Something healthy. Nothing you’d probably ever eat,” she replied dryly. “So, did he woo you again?”

  I saw Foster’s curious gaze in the rearview mirror.

  “Yeah, he said something about the latest Republican plan to outsource the FBI, and he asked if I wanted to be in on the ground floor of the civilian contract.”

  Sanders glared back over her shoulder at me.

  “He wants my answer soon,” I said. “I need you to be in a reading mood, and sooner rather than later.”

  “Fair enough,” she said. “I’ll start reading tonight.”

  Chapter 3

  Conference rooms are a lot like the Gulag; they make me feel trapped and I can feel my life wasting away in them.

  The conference room we entered was smaller and more functional, and a lot less corporate looking, than the one we had been in earlier that day, but it was still a conference room. The chief of police for Nevis Corners sat near the head of the table alongside NSA Deputy Director Bob Tevin and FBI Deputy Director Mark Wainright.

  Chuck Denton and a host of FBI agents were there, as well as a couple of high-ranking police officials and a handful of NSA agents.

  The group filled the room to capacity.

  “Cutting it kind of close, aren’t you, Agent Sanders?” Wainright asked, looking down at his watch.

  “Well, Bringer had a very important dinner to attend,” she quipped.

  Wainright looked at me, but I merely shrugged.

  “What can I say? I’m in high demand nowadays,” I said.

  “We should probably start this meeting,” the Chief urged. “It’s getting late and we’re already a little behind schedule. And some of us haven’t had the opportunity to break for dinner yet.”

  I ignored the hard look he gave me.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, you are officially members of a joint FBI/NSA taskforce called TASIT, the Telekinetic Anti-terrorism Surveillance and Interdiction Taskforce,” Wainright began. “Deputy Director Tevin and I have full co-operational command of this taskforce, which will be based in Nevis Corners, and more specifically, in this building.”

  “That is, until your FBI offices in their former location are no longer exposed to the elements,” Tevin quipped.

  A number of chuckles proliferated throughout the room as Wainright shook his head.

  “There is that,” he conceded. “That aside, I realize that our team was put together in a rather hasty, impromptu fashion, but time is a rare luxury in unique situations such as this. The severity of what we’re now facing required a near-instantaneous reaction on the government’s part, so we’ll all need to observe patience as we get up to speed together.

  “Some of you may already be familiar with Mr. Logan Bringer from his assistance to the FBI on the Wallace Building bombing investigation, though others have likely become acutely aware of him and his unique set of abilities during recent events. Once again, Mr. Bringer has graciously offered to volunteer his services to us.”

  Wainright politely nodded in my direction and I responded in kind, though I didn’t like his use of the word ‘volunteer.’

  “Pardon me, Deputy Director,” interrupted one NSA agent. “Could one of you please clarify what Mr. Bringer’s exact role and status is with this taskforce?”

  “At this time, Mr. Bringer is a VIP civilian operating under the protection of the FBI,” Wainright clarified, glancing over at me in a meaningful manner.

  Had he learned of my meeting with Clive Bernard?

  Tevin leaned forward. “We in the NSA extend our appreciation to Mr. Bringer. The remainder of our team will take further shape over time. Resources will be added or removed as deemed necessary. However, our central concern will remain focused on locating and immobilizing whatever threats we may encounter as we proceed with our investigations.”

  As I listened to the briefing, it sounded familiar, like the numerous situational briefings that I had sat through in the military. Approaching boredom, during the drone of formalities, my thoughts wandered to my earlier conversation with Clive Bernard.

  Bernard had made a number of good points in our discussion, not the least of which was the need to secure adequate protection for my family during this ordeal. While I shared his opinion that the authorities were less concerned with diligently protecting them, I nevertheless didn’t like the idea of getting in bed with the same company whose researchers had used me as an involuntary, overgrown guinea pig during my cancer treatments.

  One thing was certain: I had a big decision to make and, as Wainright had just stated, the luxury of time wasn’t mine.

  When the briefing ended, I barreled out of the room. I felt pensive and my mind filled with a host of concerns, ranging from my family to paying my monthly bills with no active income source.

  I had barely made it to the elevator at the end of the hallway when I heard, “Bringer! Wait up.”

  I turned to see Sanders and Denton quick-stepping after me.

  “You in a hurry to get somewhere?” Denton asked.

  “Yeah, home,” I replied. “I hear some cold beers in my fridge calling to me, as well as a pillow on my bed.”

  “I’ll drop you off,” Sanders said.

  I punched the button to call for an elevator car.

  Upon its arrival, the three of us stepped inside and, as the doors partially closed, a hand grabbed at one of them and Deputy Director Wainright stepped inside. He waited until the doors shut to say anything.

  “Listen, there’s something I wanted to mention to you three, but I didn’t want to say it in front of everyone else,�
� he began. “Bringer, I think it would be a good idea if you don’t talk to too many people about the true scope of your abilities. In fact, let’s just keep it between the four of us.”

  Sanders and I exchanged a curious look.

  “Makes sense, but why the urgency?” I asked.

  “To be honest, there’s a large number of interested parties focused on you right now, and I’d rather we don’t add to your allure,” he said.

  “Like who?” I asked.

  “Well, the military, for one,” he said. “I was in a recent meeting with members of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and a couple of them voiced interest in you.”

  I frowned. I wasn’t sure I wanted back into the military under my current circumstances, particularly if some power-hungry general had his sights on me.

  I opened my mind and heard multiple voices chime in.

  …never heard him talk like this, came one voice.

  …glad I’m just an agent at times like this, came another.

  …putting my cards on the table. Hope Bringer will trust me.

  “In addition, word has it that you’ve received a job offer from Nuclegene,” he added.

  “Who’d you hear that from?” Sanders asked.

  “Believe it or not, one of those same generals,” he replied. “Listen, I realize it’s none of my business, but it might not be a bad idea for you to consider their offer.”

  I frowned. “Why would you care?”

  “I like you, Bringer, and I appreciate all you’ve done,” he said. “But I’ve been in this business a long time, and I’ve seen people get used…badly sometimes.”

  “Why not make me an offer yourself?”

  He arched one brow. “Honestly? I’m not sure the agency would give you a fair shake.”

  Both Denton and Sanders looked at him with surprise, but he shrugged.

  “Listen, Bringer, I’ve asked you to trust me, but keep in mind that I’m not the top dog in our agency. And the scary truth is, I don’t necessarily trust the politics above me right now, if you catch my meaning.”

  The elevator doors opened and Wainright reached out to shake my hand.