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All attention swung to the man, who’d been watching the byplay between Dev and Davenport with fascination but no real alarm.

“Benny, have you made a decision?” Dev called over his shoulder, and Benny stepped from the shadows.

Hayes’s eyes locked on Benny’s and he went pale and visibly wobbled.

“What... how?” he stuttered.

“Dr. Hayes, meet the members of St. Michael’s Solutions,” Davenport said conversationally.

His gaze hadn’t moved from Benny. “You’re dead,” he whispered.

“Not so much,” Benny said. “Though not for lack of trying.”

Hayes whirled back to face Davenport, absolute rage flashing across his features now. “He was never dead? Then who the hell is in the morgue?”

Benny marveled at his absolute arrogance and privilege. Here he was, surrounded by pissed-off people with weapons and two men he’d authorized the torture of. Yet he still thought he had the right to question them.

“We took the liberty of borrowing one of Benedict’s tactics and acquired an unclaimed, unidentified body,” Dev said, his voice as calm and bored as Davenport’s. “Removed the fingertips and claimed it was Benny.”

Hayes stared at him.

“Oh, and by the way, you’d better start working up some alibis and a good fucking cover story. Davenport and I forwarded Benny’s patient files to both the FBI and OSI, just so we get a little cross-pollination. The evidence is going to show that you illegally held and tortured an American serviceman until he died.”

Hayes’s mouth opened, but Dev kept going.

“As far as the official record is concerned, the man on that slab is Technical Sergeant Benito Drake. The DNA matches and we tweaked his injuries, so the medical history matches as well. Every record associated with his captivity is on point.”

“Those records also show that this experiment was an unqualified failure,” Benny said, stepping forward until he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Jordan. “You’re never going to do this to someone else.”

Hayes’s expression had changed from stunned to a bit nauseated, a bit panicked. Then it shifted.

“He knows something we don’t,” Benny said. “He just started looking all cagey.”

“If I tell you something about Overlander and her work, can I quietly retire?” Hayes asked, and Benny could see he’d come to the realization he held exactly zero cards.

Davenport and Dev shook their heads almost in unison, but it was Dev who answered. “I don't have the authority to make deals for OSI or the FBI. We can find Overlander on our own.”

Hayes gestured urgently. “You don't understand. When I got into this, it was for the pure research. I believed the project was about accelerating healing and survivability for our troops. That was always the end goal.”

“But?” Benny asked.

Hayes looked at him, guilt shadowing his gaze. “But she took it further. Tried to create someone who was almost indestructible on the battlefield and who could be...” He paused, visibly uncomfortable. “Manipulated into doing what they were told without asking questions.”

“So the neural manipulation you talked about trying on me was just another step in the testing?” Benny asked coldly.

Hayes audibly swallowed, then nodded. “She took it too far. Like she always has.” He shuddered. “I wish I'd never laid eyes on that woman. This was never about healing for her. It was about seeing exactly what the human body could take and then pushing it further.”

With those words, Benny had an awful realization that he couldn’t prove, but knew deep in his bones was correct. Overlander hadn't run because she was scared. She'd run because her experiments here were finished and she had more to prove. And somewhere out there, she intended to explore it.

Hayes wouldn’t know where she'd gone, even if they tortured him as much as Benny had been. He was an administrator at heart, content to let Overlander do her work while deliberately avoiding a close look at exactly how she accomplished it.

Benny studied the man, trying to identify the emotions coursing through him. There was revulsion, certainly, and a whole lot of anger. But while he was pretty sure Jordan wanted to put a bullet in Hayes’s head on his behalf, Benny didn't. He wanted the man neutered. Disgraced.

A chime sounded through their headsets.

“OSI and FBI inbound,” Davenport said. He looked at Benny. “If you want anything else out of him, now's the time.” Then Davenport extended his weapon toward Benny. “Or he's yours to do with as you wish.”

Benny stared at the gun, and for one terrible moment, he saw all the possible endings.