Lowering his hands he stared at the files again before choosing one from the bottom of the pile.
Brandenmore had been detailed on this one regarding the sound of the victims’ screams, inhuman and agonized. The sound of horror from a Breed medically paralyzed from a customized paralytic created by the Genetics Council that left only the ability to scream. For some reason, the scientists had rarely disabled their victims’ ability to sound their horror, their pleas or their agony. And for this victim, it had been almost never ending.
A male Bengal whose animal DNA was strong enough that he was labeled “primal”—a Prime. For at least two years he had been given not just the serum Brandenmore had created to repress aging and cure the cancer he had tried to eliminate from his own body but also the mind-control drug he had created. A drug that had already been proven disastrous on another Breed, Dr. Elyiana Morrey, when it had been used to convince her that one of their Enforcers and code breakers, Mercury Warrant, was a danger to the Breeds.
“He was drugged with the paralytic the Council created and was vivisected to the point of death three times.” Lawe Justice spoke from the chair across from him, his expression, his voice unemotional, icy in its complete lack of feeling.
The emotions were swirling beneath the surface, though; Jonas could sense them, like a volcano ready to explode.
“He escaped when the scientists and soldiers were preparing the lab, him and two other subjects for termination. He was recaptured again, ten years later. That was when the vivisections began. He escaped the last time just after Phillip Brandenmore’s death,” Jonas stated as he opened the file and stared into the face of the Breed that had endured two years of vicious, horrific testing.
Pale green eyes stared back from a hard, bronzed face bisected with a stripe. From his left eye, across his nose and right cheek, the flesh was a vibrant dark gold in the form of a Bengal’s stripe.
His teeth were clenched, his lips pulled back in an enraged snarl. Sharp canines dropped from the sides of his teeth, glistening white and savagely sharp.
The picture beneath showed large, broad hands chained to a gurney as a soldier held one of the powerful fingers. The nail was slightly rounded and from the soldier’s pressure against the pad of the finger the “claw” had been forced from the nail bed. Though it was filed to be less lethal, it was still harder than a normal human nail, its construction and almost bonelike hardness making it a formidable weapon.
“They named this one.” Lawe remarked on the Council scientists’ habit of giving the Breeds numbers rather than names.
“They’ve learned the power of a name.” Jonas sighed. “But they gave this one the wrong name I believe. If they intended to reinforce his submission, then they should have chosen a far less powerful name than Gideon.”
He watched as Lawe turned his attention back to the identical folder he held. Jonas could guess the thoughts, the torments going through his mind.
The memories.
Memories of the woman he had called mother and of forcing himself to remain still, with all apparent unconcern, as she died beneath a scalpel during a vivisection.
“Three times,” Lawe stated. “They cut him open three times.” His head shook briefly as he lifted the file once again. “And we’re going to punish him for doing the same to the bastards he’s hunting down?”
There was a vein of anger in Lawe’s voice, disapproval that Jonas might agree with silently but didn’t have the power to allow to continue.
“And once the news agencies catch wind that it’s a Breed committing these crimes rather than a serial killer?” Jonas questioned Lawe’s disapproval. “We’ve managed to cover this so far, Lawe, but we won’t be able to much longer. Once the truth is out there, we’ll be forced to terminate him or turn him over to the courts for their brand of justice versus ours. I’d much prefer to capture him, see if the damage to his mind can be reversed and save him. It seems no less than he deserves.”
“And once again Breeds are forced to bow down to their makers,” Lawe accused condemningly.
Despite the sneer in his tone, Jonas knew the intent behind it. It was the same intent he felt when he made similar comments. The injustice of being forced to turn the other cheek so many times was slowly building an aversion for the reality of their situation. And for humans in general.
Breeds had no choice but to garner the goodwill of society and of those untainted by the animal genetics Breeds carried. There were so many more of them, and so few Breeds, that if public opinion turned against them then they were screwed.
“Gideon’s search for the Roberts girl is intensifying,” Lawe said as he read further. “Three of the scientists involved in the testing she was a part of twenty years ago as well as two of the soldiers are dead. The single survivor, a female lab tech, reported that a man slipped into her bedroom, restrained her and questioned her extensively on the escape of the young male Bengal and the second human female as well as any friendship that may have developed between them and the Roberts girl while she was there.” His gaze lifted once again. “She was terrified but left alive. She was the only one he left alive.”
“And strangely enough, she didn’t call the police or her employers,” Jonas mused. “She contacted me instead.”
“Did she say why?” Lawe’s gaze narrowed as it lifted to Jonas’s.
“Public knowledge that she was part of the experiments and tortures against not just Breeds but also humans could potentially lead to charges being filed against her and a conviction that could send her to prison for up to six to ten years.” Jonas shrugged. “She was hoping I would be more lenient in exchange for the information concerning Gideon and what he’s searching for.