Dominion

  He was on medical leave, pending a competency hearing, his ruptured rotator cuff and broken humerus might be bad enough to retire him on full disability. A job offer had materialized in Dallas, someone wanted to buy his house and in weeks, he was whirl-winded somewhere he’d never dreamed of living with an income that promised a Beamer, speedboat and dream house.

  Jazzy was ecstatic, a friend had mentioned a special needs child that was up for adoption, and she’d reluctantly agreed to meet him. And fallen in love with the shy, blue-eyed boy with the blonde curly hair and sweet vacant face. He spoke French perfectly, understood a little English and didn’t interact with anyone or anything. Yet when he saw Mitch’s lab, Sassy, he grabbed the dog’s neck and refused to let go. The dog nuzzled and licked his face; it wasn’t until she lay down at his feet, that he released her.

  “What’s his name?” Jasmine asked the woman Social Worker.

  “Daniel Defreaux. He was abused as a child, suffered both mental and physical damage. The neurologist believes with the right couple and home life, he’ll come out of it. He was a brilliant child before the incident.”

  “Incident?”

  “His father murdered his mother in front of him, forced him to cut her body up and bury the pieces. He sold the boy to a Nice sex ring to pay off a drug debt. The French police raided the warehouse on a tip, and found him hanging from chains in a room set up for sado-masochistic films.”

  “Oh my God! How old is he now?”

  “Thirteen.”

  Every time Mitch thought about the boy, his stomach burned. He turned to the real estate agent and said, “Show us old country houses. Out in the country, with acreage. Maybe a pond. Big old trees and no neighbors closer than a quarter-mile. A two-story with a big wraparound porch. If it needs work, all the better.”

  Jasmine grinned knowing Mitch’s mindset better than he did himself. Money settled the deal in less than fifteen days; the mortgage went through like clockwork. Between the sale of the house in Williamstown and the equity, the ridiculously low price of the old farm, his mortgage payments on the ten-year note were less than five hundred dollars, leaving him nearly 450 K to put into CDs and savings.

  With his new salary and retirement, he brought an extended 4 x 4 pickup for him and an Audi SUV for Jasmine, with all the room in the world.

  The old house was a soft rose color, two-story Texas colonial with dormer windows, wraparound porch and a front parlor. A big old kitchen that opened with French doors on a garden, back pasture, barns and century-old oak trees. Cedars that loomed like giant fingers pointing to a sky as big as, well, Dallas.

  Mitchell loved the old house at first sight, even with its obvious needed repair work. The porch was wobbly in places. Several windows needed replacing. The whole structure needed painting, the floors inside wide planking that years of neglect and spurs had gouged deep holes into the wood. The kitchen appliances were fifty years out of date and he shuddered to think of the state of the furnace.

  It was warmed by propane, and wood, had a modern generator in the tool shed, the well was a spring and several frost-less faucets lined the yard and barn aisles. At one time, the barn housed horses and beef cattle. You could still smell the faint aroma of horse.

  They’d decided to ship all their furniture as Mitch’s new job had a generous allowance for moving. In a week, Jasmine had managed to paint, wallpaper, and arrange everything to her satisfaction, including the second bedroom of the four upstairs. The room she’d done for a shy, introverted boy who liked nothing but animals.

  They took the SUV into Dallas to meet the social worker and start the adoption process. Like the sale of his home and the move, everything fell into place with astonishing ease to which Jazzy replied it was as if it was meant.

  Mitch asked if she would be happier with an infant and her reply was instant, she’d fallen in love with Daniel and wanted him.

  The boy sat in the back with Sassy, seat belted and mum, his eyes down, wearing jeans and a jacket over a new shirt with the package creases still showing. He shivered constantly, his delicate wrists sticking out of the too short jacket.

  He was tall for his age, but he hunched, making himself seem both shorter and younger. Even the sight of Sassy did not comfort him. Because of his special needs, he needed to have psychological treatments once a week and part of the adoption agreement was to continue the therapy. Luckily, his doctor was in the same high-rise where Mitchell’s new job was situated, and both Jazz, Daniel, and he checked out both places on his first official day at work.

  Mitch liked the head shrink, a woman named Marian Cohen. She was kind and seemed to have a real insight into the boy. She spoke French and understood the little Daniel did speak. Both Mitch and Jazzy had downloaded the Rosetta Stone programs on their laptops. Within a month, they could hold a conversation with the boy and each other.

  Danny slowly came out of his shell, he would never be a popular jock, but after a year of therapy both at home and with Doctor Cohen, he could be enrolled in the local high school and makeup classes.

  He was intelligent, he caught up with an astonishing ease that amazed the couple, but he refused to join any after-school activities. He would not ride the bus; instead, Jazzy drove him and picked him up from the door of his own room.

  Red Hill was a small town outside of the Dallas Metroplex, the high school held only a hundred students, neatly attired in regulations starched and creased blue jeans, Justin Ropers and George Strait, creased Stetson’s. Their hobbies were barrel racing, team roping and tubing, drag-racing their pickup trucks on the sand or caliche back roads.

  Drugs were available, but Danny had neither the money nor interest, his hobbies ran to reading and helping on the property. He dug postholes and built fence, hoed the garden and ran Sassy around the fields, went riding with Jasmine on her spotted Paso Fino trotting behind her on his own two feet. She wasn’t able to get him on the horse, he said he ran with her at night and that was enough.

  At fifteen, he hit 6 foot two, with crystal pure blue eyes under his contacts, a solemn, quiet, watchful face that when in repose was curiously beautiful. His hair had darkened to a honey brown, his eyebrows almost black. He had neat hands and feet, and was very particular about his footwear. He owned a dozen pair of sneakers.

  Only twice in the last year had Daniel had a crisis, both times occurred before his scheduled therapy with Doctor Cohen. Both times, Mitch had found the boy seated in the barn under a noose hanging from the rafters.

  Frightened, Mitchell had screamed at Daniel, jerked him away and asked him what he was thinking. The boy had not replied, only looked at him blankly mumbling in gutter French.

  Doctor Cohen changed his meds and for a week kept him home until the trank level evened out. They celebrated his birthday as the day he joined them, August 14.

  Once a year, a Colonel came to Mitch’s work place, sat in on the high-level meetings and greeted him in the hallway, inquiring about his wife and son.

  Four years passed. Daniel was 6’2” of hardened male and had every female for forty miles hanging around. He attracted them like a bee to honey and sometimes seemed bewildered by it.

  Mitch sat him down and gave him a lecture about sex, protection and respect to which Danny listened with that same grave reserve.

  “You understand me, Daniel?” Mitch asked, never quite able to reach beneath the boy’s mask.

  Daniel nodded. “We had this in gym class last year and this year, dad.” He spoke deliberately in a soft voice, with a Gallic influence.

  “Do you have feelings like that, Daniel? Wake up hard in the morning?”

  Daniel looked away so his answer was barely heard. His jaw muscles clenched. “I know all about sex,” he snarled in a voice so full of rage that Mitch jerked his chair back in alarm.

  “Danny?”

  When he turned his face back, all Mitch saw was the same bland expression. “Don’t worry, dad. I won’t get into trouble. I don’t like girls.”

&n
bsp; Mitchell swallowed. “Uhh. Well, boys are okay, too, Danny. If that’s the way you feel.”

  “Don’t like them, either.”

  Gaines heaved a sigh of relief. “What did Doctor Cohen say about it.…sex?”

  “She said if I needed to, I could masturbate,” he said it in clinical terms.

  “Do you like going to Doctor Cohen, Daniel?”

  He hesitated, his hand reaching for the grizzled head of his old lab, Sassy. She looked up adoringly at the teenager and licked his hand. A fleeting expression of real emotion animated the boy’s face. “She scares me, dad,” he admitted in low tones. “I don’t like the shots or the tapes she plays. She puts me under and strange voices talk to me.”

  With a dry mouth, Gaines asked, “what do they tell you, Daniel?”

  “They tell me who I’m supposed to be.” Next visit to the therapist, Mitchell went with him.

  Chapter 18

  Cohen called the Colonel on the secure line and told him that she recommended the start of the next phase of the project. The boy’s adoptive father was breaking his conditioning and asking questions. She had placed Gaines in a suggestive state and reinforced the old parameters, but wasn’t sure how long it would last.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “We’re taking Daniel anyway. He’s graduated, and has applied for several colleges. I’ve approved his application to CalPoly, we can monitor him there easily enough and recruit him out of second year.”

  “He’s brilliant, Colonel, if a little quirky. He’s extremely adaptable to languages, he knows all the Romance, Russian, German, Arabic, Farsi, and is working on Mandarin. Some Japanese too. Put him in any station and within a month, he’ll be speaking the language like a native.”

  “No girlfriends?”

  “No. His posthypnotic block is still in effect. When he has urges, he masturbates; he’s told me in therapy his sex urge is negligible. At his age, he should be a randy jackrabbit. To blow off the excess testosterone, so he doesn’t implode, I’ve arranged for a professional to teach him techniques for future use.”

  “He’s not going to be a Nightingale,” he retorted, referring to the sex pot bait and trap agents.

  “Yes, Sir. He’s one hot hunk of 6’2” eyes of blue when he is not tamped down.”

  “Any sign of his esper?”

  “No. Not one whiff. It’s dormant; the anomaly is still in his brain, has neither grown nor shrunk. The ganglia are exactly the same.”

  “Still on his meds?”

  “Administered time release under the skin before he leaves my clinic.”

  “Is Mitch going to be a problem, doctor?” The Colonel demanded.

  “If he is, he’ll just revert back to his HS persona. He’ll be confused, he’ll remember the scene in your office and that he’s been working undercover for the NSA all this time. Shouldn’t pose any risk as long as he doesn’t travel east or have contact with acquaintances from his previous life.”

  “What about Daniel?”

  Doctor Cohen laughed. “There is no more Dantan De Rosier, Colonel. We destroyed that person for the last time. What we have now is an eighteen-year-old French adopted American with the memories, emotions and attitude we programmed onto his blank slate. There’s nothing for him to remember.”

  “I want him ready to go as soon as possible. Rickover’s second term is coming up and I need to know what’s going on inside the Oval Office.”

  “I can start backing off the espirine,” she offered. “I’m curious to see if it still works, his Espermeld.”

  “Espermeld?”

  “We had to give what he can do a name, that was the closest Everett and I came up with.”

  “God rest his soul,” the Colonel laughed and she was quiet. Offered a choice of switch sides or lose the project, she’d gone over. Hawthorne had not and she’d not seen or heard from him since. Now, in the Colonel’s few words, she knew the programmer’s fate.

  “You’re up for another raise, Doctor Cohen. How does another 45K sound?”

  She swallowed, calculated that allowed her to balloon her escape fund offshore and afford a new condo on Mustang Island. “Great,” she enthused. “I’ll up Daniel’s sessions to two a week.”

  “Thank you, doctor.” The Colonel hung up.

  *****

  Jasmine and Mitchell flew out to California to check out the college. Both of them had wanted Daniel to go closer, the University of Houston or UT at Austin. Both schools had accepted him, but his choice was CalPoly, a full scholarship with living expenses and all he had to do was participate in a trial study partnered with Rand and a company out of Cyberdynetics, a division out of Mitch’s work. Rumor had it was a think tank for DARPA.

  He was awkward around the dorms, both Gaines could see that sharing a room upset him, and they offered to get him his own apartment and pay the difference. He said that Doctor Cohen had suggested he learn to deal with the concept of close living quarters. He’d come back from the last session with the therapist exhausted and drained, smelling of sweat and sex.

  Mitch questioned him and Daniel had stared blankly at him denying any inappropriate behavior on her part or his. The only genuine emotion he expressed was when he said goodbye to Sassy. He kissed both of them goodbye, promised to call at least once a week and disappeared into the massive dorm building on the campus. Named for the famous World War II General Hiram Rickover, it housed nearly 10,000 students, the cream of American intellectual society.

  Daniel reached his room and sat on the bed. Doctor Cohen had given him specific instructions and he could no more disobey them than he could cease breathing.

  His new roommate entered the room, threw the two suitcases on the bed and studied his charge. He was there solely to babysit, a twenty-six-year-old freshly minted agent, who still looked young enough to blend in on campus and protect the teenager. He noted the teen’s lack of affect, and triggered the conditioning code.

  “Daniel, winter’s ice has broken the ice jam.”

  Daniel’s eyes blinked and slowly, his body relaxed as a major change came over his entire personality. His face lightened, he smiled, his shoulders relaxed as he sat straight and his eyes brightened.

  “Hey,” he said, turning to the bodyguard/roommate. He stood up, extended his hand. “I’m Daniel Gaines. Freshman. I’m majoring in languages.”

  “Parker Ames. Chemistry major, bio-sciences. Sophomore but I’m skipping a year, did some clinicals the Board gave me credit for.”

  “Cool. Which bunk you want?” The room was big enough for two beds, two desks and two bookshelves, one large closet and their own private bath with shower, commode and sink. A dorm sized fridge, and an equally tiny kitchen.

  “You cook?” Parker asked casually.

  “I’m French,” Daniel laughed. “Of course I cook. I’ll take the bed near the window. You smoke?”

  He eyed Parker’s fingers stained dark.

  “No. Iodine from my last lab experiment. Takes forever to wear off.”

  “You got any allergies?”

  “Like what?”

  “Peanuts, shellfish, MSG?”

  “Nope.”

  “Cool. I’m going out for dinner with my parents, say goodbye,” Daniel said easily. “Want to come?”

  “They won’t mind?”

  “No. They’ll be glad to meet you.”

  When he called them, they’d already caught the flight back as it had been pushed forward so Parker took him to the local hangout for pizza and wings.

  Chapter 19

  “Hey, Danny,” Parker, called from a corner booth surrounded by heavily muscled men drinking beers from long necked bottles.

  Daniel was flirting with a pretty brunette and if his parents had seen him working the girl, would have been amazed. She was practically melting in his arms and had already invited him to her rooms where he was perfectly willing to go.

  “He isn’t wasting any time,” the NSA operative grinned. “She’s practically screwing him on the d
ance floor.”

  “Yeah, well, the Doc said he’d be easier to direct after he gets it out of the system, his testosterone levels are extremely high after being held back all these years,” Parker said. “He’s got to be carrying a load my balls would explode from.”

  The man laughed crudely. “She hired a hooker for him last month to teach him the ropes. I heard he passed with flying colors.”

  “So, why are we here?” The lead agent demanded.

  “The Colonel wants to test him. When we leave here you’re to follow and…” He described the Colonel’s plan and the man agreed, leaving Daniel with Parker.

  *****

  I don’t know what triggered my awakening in the vault, one Moment I was deep in lost memories, the next I was vaguely aware that years had passed without my knowledge, yet my body had aged and carried on as if someone else had cared for it. I could see the part of me that was real and moving yet I couldn’t influence it. I was in prison inside my vault and no longer knew how to escape, wasn’t even sure why I needed to hide, nor what I was hiding from.

  My body was laughing, dancing, running those hands all over a pretty girl, and from the little moans she was making, she clearly enjoyed what I was doing to her. I stuck my tongue in her ear and rubbed lazy circles on her wet panties under her short skirt. I could feel the deep trembling as her belly muscles clenched. My own prick throbbed and swelled until I couldn’t stand it anymore. Pushed her into a dark corner just outside the back door and pulled her panties down, opened my jeans and impaled her. She came instantly, her walls sucking greedily on my prick and I lunged twice shoving her up the wall as I followed. She screamed into my mouth and I swallowed her breath as I gasped for my own. Heard my voice asked her name, as I tucked myself back into my pants. My balls throbbed and her pulse raced under my hand.