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“I’m not talking about a motive for the drug operation here in Carnelian,” he said. “Those three were in it for the money, and Fenner was obsessed with his insomnia drug experiments. But none of that explains the Institute. What was the anonymous donor’s motive?”
“People—heck, governments—have been running experiments in the paranormal for generations. The U.S. has a long history of that sort of research.”
“But usually with a well-defined purpose,” Ambrose said. “In this case, we know the donor was willing to spend a lot of money, commit murder, and take serious risks to conduct off-the-books experiments. What we don’t know is why.”
“Money is a huge motivator, and everyone knows there’s a lot ofit in the drug business, both the legal and the illegal sides,” Pallas said. “Just imagine how much you could make if you came up with a drug that gave people psychic talents.” She paused, thinking. “Or enhanced someone’s low-level psychic vibe, as it did with us.”
Ambrose shook his head. “We’re not dealing with some standard-issue drug lord trying to make a lot of cash.”
“Then why experiment on us?”
“The most valuable commodity in the modern world is information,” Ambrose said. “You and I have the ability to collect data that is invisible to most people. We have unique talents for gathering intelligence about individuals that could be used by corporations, cartels, law enforcement, government agencies, or the military. I would make a very good spy, and I have the ability to predict other people’s actions before they take place.”
She shuddered. “I could be the perfect assassin.” She realized her cup was shaking a little. “The deaths would look like natural causes.”
Ambrose said, “You are not an assassin, and you never will be.”
She ignored that. “Do you think that you and I and Talia and Amelia are proof of concept for whoever did this to us? Are we successful experiments?”
“No,” Ambrose said. “We’re failures.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because the anonymous donor is about to learn the lesson that Dr.Frankenstein learned.”
“Right.” Pallas relaxed a little. “If you set out to create monsters you had better be prepared for them to turn on you.”
CHAPTER FIFTY
The Carnelian projectwas a failure.
Cutler Steen shut down the laptop. It took every ounce of control he possessed to resist the urge to hurl the damn machine against the nearest wall.
He crossed the high-ceilinged room, went through the open French doors, and stepped out onto the wide veranda. He gripped the teak railing and contemplated the paradise of lush tropical gardens and sparkling ocean. The island offered everything a man in his profession could want—discreet offshore banking and government institutions designed to accommodate the requirements of successful individuals such as himself. The local police did business the old-fashioned way—by bribery. The infrastructure was state-of-the-art. The airstrip could handle the fastest corporate jets, and the harbor was equipped to service those who preferred to travel by private yacht.
It all came at a price, of course, but he and the handful of elite entrepreneurs who ran their empires from the island were happy to pay for the priceless commodity of privacy.
He checked the time. Four thirty. The jet carrying his youngerdaughter was due to land in fifteen minutes. An hour from now she would join him and her brother and sister for drinks on the veranda and a debriefing. It was important to analyze the failure and learn from it.
Motion in the gardens below drew his attention. He looked down and saw Jenkins, a member of his security team, patrolling a winding path. The agent was wearing a floppy-brimmed hat, sunglasses, a loose-fitting, short-sleeved shirt, and a pair of khaki trousers. He could have been mistaken for a tourist, but there were no tourists on this half of the island. If you looked closely you could see the earpiece. The pistol and knife were tucked out of sight under the shirt.
Sensing that he was being watched, Jenkins looked up and inclined his head respectfully. “Good afternoon, sir. I’m told Ms.Celina’s plane is on time. There is a vehicle waiting for her at the airport.”
“Excellent,” Steen said. “I’m looking forward to having the family together for drinks and dinner this evening. It’s not often that all three of my children are on the island at the same time. They lead very busy lives.”
“I understand, sir. It’s always good to be with family.”
“Yes,” Steen said.
Neither of them mentioned that Jenkins did not have any close family. None of the members of Steen’s security detail did. None were married. Steen hired carefully vetted loners, and he took good care of them. For the most part, they rewarded him with loyalty.
He turned and walked back into the vast great room of the villa. Each of his children had their own villas situated on the grounds of the sprawling estate. There was ample room for all of them here in the main house, with its many bedrooms, baths, and sitting areas—the estate had once operated as a luxury resort. But the members of the Steen family liked their privacy. They each had their own business interests, theirown friends, and their own lovers. Most important of all, they each had their own secrets and their own ambitions. He had raised them that way and encouraged the rivalries and conflicts that always simmered just beneath the surface.
Celina, Benedict, and Adriana were his longest-running experiments. They all shared his DNA—he had had them tested at birth—but each had a different mother, who had been carefully selected for her latent psychic ability. Each woman had suffered an unfortunate accident shortly after the birth of her child.
He had himself back under control now. He was able to contain the rage and near-panic that had threatened to overwhelm him. It was time to accept the reality of the very expensive failure in Carnelian and move on. Celina had disappointed him but she nevertheless had certain talents. Neither Benedict nor Adriana could prowl the dark net as well as their sister, and in today’s world that skill set was as valuable as privacy.
The corporate jet landed on time. Celina was whisked up the hillside to the estate in one of the armored SUVs. She walked into the great room a short time later. He knew from the look in her eyes that she was dreading this meeting. Everything about her was brittle.
