Page 79 of Fighting for Brielle
She swore aloud and tore the sheets off the bed and checked every inch of it until she found a tiny microphone.
Staring straight into the camera, she said in a raspy voice, “Okay, I’m awake, you son-of- a-bitch. Let’s talk.”
Fifteen minutes later someone unlocked the steel door and it slid open. Brielle leapt to her feet and emitted a short laugh.
“Officer Carson.”
He trained a gun on her. “After you.”
Outside the cell she declared, “You know I could easily disarm you.”
Carson rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know all about your training with Chief McQuaid. But you’re smart enough not to try anything. You have no idea how to get out of this place and wouldn’t get very far until you were caught.”
Brielle digested that information as Carson led her through a maze of short and long underground corridors. She memorized the turns they took and noted any sounds she heard coming from behind row after row of steel doors. If these were the living quarters of Anderson’s regime, they were little better than prisoners themselves.
“You’re a traitor,” she commented after they’d descended a set of concrete steps. The coldness stung her bare feet.
Carson halted and stared hard at her. “To what? To a government that abandoned and betrayed its people several generations ago? To a government that turned its back on the weak and the poor in favor of the elite?”
His answer revealed a significant piece of information. “Do you really believe that? Or are you just repeating Anderson’s sick, twisted philosophy? Have you forgotten he’s a one percenter?”
“I haven’t forgotten anything. Anderson is using his money to finance change.”
“Really?” she scoffed. “It seems to me he’s using his money to stage a revolution that will result in the deaths of hundreds, if not thousands, of innocent people. If he wanted to effect real change, why didn’t he run for office? Why hasn’t he used his millions to build job training and education centers for the poor and displaced? Do you know how many starving and homeless people he could feed and shelter with his money?”
Carson shoved his gun into her belly. “Shut up.”
“You’re a disgrace to the badge.”
“I was never the badge.” He waved the gun. “Move.”
Never the badge. What did that mean?
Chapter 20
From the closed expression on Carson’s face, Brielle decided not to press him about what he meant. She needed him to view her as non-threatening and impotent. Besides, their destination lay immediately to their right?a massive set of double steel doors. Apparently, they’d arrived at the center of the hive.
Anderson was smarter than she’d thought. He’d set up a retinal scanner that allowed Carson access to his inner sanctum. She wondered how many others had such a high level of trust and security clearance. The doors swooshed, and they stepped across the threshold.
The inviting space replicated a homey atmosphere at odds with reality. This might have been Anderson’s living room in his home on the surface. Rows of books lined the walls. Around a fake fireplace, leather recliners and a sofa sat in a U. Soft lighting illuminated the area and jazz music played at a low volume in the background. Beyond this, Brielle noticed a kitchen with a wooden dining table large enough to seat eight people. She wasn’t sure if Anderson and his family slept in this confine or somewhere else.
Her tall, slender host smiled at her and dismissed Carson with a wave of his hand. Anderson possessed classic good looks?rugged facial features, dark eyes, and short-cropped salt and pepper hair. A neatly trimmed beard covered the lower portion of his cheeks, jawline, and chin.
He offered his hand. “We finally meet, Miss McAdams.”
His rough, workworn hand and his cultured voice and politeness belied his true nature. She dropped his hand, and he gestured toward the sofa.
“Please, sit down.” He made himself comfortable in a recliner and perused her.
“Where’s Faith Stoker?” Brielle demanded.
Anderson smiled again, revealing perfect, even white teeth. “You don’t disappoint. True to your nature, your first concern is for your friend, not yourself.”
“She’s here, then. Alive?”
“Of course. She has the most amazing brain. I’ve enjoyed rewiring it.”
Cold fear crawled up Brielle’s spine and across her scalp. Sweat beaded on her forehead and started to run down her face. “May I see her?”
