Page 113 of Mastermind

LIFELINE

The nameless guard tells me to stand facing the wall of my cell. I do as I’m told with my hands above my head and allow them to put restraints on me, plus a hood to keep me disoriented.

It’s exactly as Theo described, only more demoralizing, even though I know my situation isn’t as hopeless as his was.

The last time I was at IDR containment, I was a visitor who knew where the facility was and who was operating it. I also didn’t have to wear a hood as I was escorted through the intentionally confusing labyrinth. Knowing that the internal layout is designed to make detainees psychologically vulnerable doesn’t make me feel any less exposed.

I’m walked into a small room and sat down on a chair with my hands shackled to a counter in front of a mirrored window.

The last time I saw this room, it was from the other side. Now I’m the inmate waiting to find out who’s come to talk to me.

In the four days I’ve been here, there’s been no communication from the outside. Theo is confined somewhere else in the facility, and Gerald has been radio silent since our capture by Vivian Kieren. Now I’m in her private prison.

The lights flicker on the other side, and my visitor is revealed to me. It’s him.

Michael Heywood.

He sits silently, studying me. I knew this moment would come, but I had no idea how he’d handle himself. Apparently, neither did he. I remain silent, letting the rage in my face speak for me.

“I thought I’d say something clever about how the last time we spoke inside a prison the roles were reversed. But that seemed too obvious. Yet I just said it.” He shakes his head. “You understand why I had to make a machine to talk to you, Jessica? I can never find the right words.” He nervously bites the edge of his thumbnail. “I’m sorry. I never saw this coming. When Vivian told me that she’d apprehended you, I decided I had to intervene.”

“Intervene?” I speak for the first time. “Is that what this is? An intervention?”

He smiles. “Of sorts. If she had her way, the IDR would use one of her judges to place an indefinite containment order on you. Instead of the temporary one we have now.”

“I’m sure the FBI has other thoughts,” I reply.

“Unfortunately, no. I think the word they used was rogue. I understand that they told Vivian you’re her problem.” A smile forms on the edges of his mouth, and he lowers his voice. “I’ll let you in on a little secret: that makes you my problem.” He clears his throat. “In case you haven’t figured it out, I call the shots here.” He raises his voice. “No need to whisper, by the way. The microphones are off. The cameras aren’t on. I could say anything I wanted to you. Anything, Jessica. If I were a lesser man, I could do anything I want.”

“I can’t think of a lesser man than you.”

His face contorts for a moment before he regains his composure. “That’s one of the things I admire about you. Here you are in the last place you ever thought you’d be, under the complete control of the man you presently despise more than any other, and you still have your humor.”

“Presently?”

“There’s hope. I think you might see me differently in time.”

“I think I’d rather go back to my cell.”

“You don’t have to do that. We could come to an arrangement. Nothing untoward, I assure you.”

“Obviously. Not just because you’re the biggest asshole on the planet, but because you just dropped the word untoward into a conversation that was rather rapey.”

His face twitches. I’ve done this to him before. He wasn’t expecting it here, though, while he pictured himself in complete control of me.

“I don’t think you understand your situation. You’re in a jail that I have the only key to.”

“Is the key supposed to be your dick?”

He slams his fist on the metal counter, rattling the window.

A guard comes rushing in through the door behind me. Heywood jumps to his feet and yells at the man. “I said stay the fuck out of here!”

The guard retreats and shuts the door behind him. Heywood sits back down and runs his fingers through his hair. “Well, at the very least, I think that demonstrates who’s in control here.”

“Do you think you look like someone in control?” I ask, intentionally provoking him again.

He sits back and stares at me with his arms crossed. Then his eyes suddenly light up. “I see now. You’re still under the impression that your friends in the FBI will be coming for you. You’re in a state of denial.”