The Apparatus (Jason Trapp Book 5) by Jack Slater

Author:Jack Slater [Slater, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2021-01-29T22:00:00+00:00

30

Fernando Carreon was enjoying a scotch by the pool at about seven that evening when he recognized the first sign that something strange was going on. Jennifer Reyes was in her room, where she’d spent most of the last few days. He couldn’t work out whether she was more terrified of him or the guards.

A masked guard – the one with the mirrored Oakleys – strode onto the terrace, the heels of his boots reverberating against the stone with his own importance.

“Come with me,” he grunted imperiously.

Carreon had enough alcohol in his veins both not to want to and also not to be concerned about the consequences of disobeying. He set the scotch glass down on the side table next to his lounger with a clink.

“Why?”

“Stand up,” the guard grunted, drumming the tips of his fingers against a holstered pistol.

He wondered idly whether he could be quick enough to disarm the man but decided against it. He was always more of a thinker than a fighter. Other people were always better with their fists, and thankfully they spent their lives cheaply. For most of his life that awareness had carried him where he needed to go. And so Carreon came to the conclusion that now wasn’t the time to change the habits of a lifetime.

“Now!” the guard intoned, though the added stress wasn’t necessary. His prisoner was already rousing himself from his alcoholic half-slumber.

His muscles were pleasantly loose in the heat of the evening, and he pushed himself upright without too much effort. He shrugged insolently, resting most of his weight only on his rear leg and thrust the other forward with a nonchalance that was only half feigned. “What do you want?”

“Inside, now,” the guard barked.

He did as he was told, irritably shaking his arm loose of the guard’s outstretched grasp. He could at least do things with dignity.

Within the villa, another guard reached for a bank of light switches and killed the pool lights. The turquoise glow died instantly, leaving only a lingering image in Fernando’s retinas and a string of glimmering LEDs set into the flagstones that ringed the terrace.

“Stop,” the guard ordered the second they were back inside the villa.

“Why don’t you tell me what the hell is going on?” Carreon said, grimacing with frustration. “What does it matter to you where I spend my evenings?”

He fell silent then, considering that very question. He’d been here for a week, maybe eight days now. He hadn’t exactly been in a perfect state to commit his exact movements to memory those first two or three. And yet in all that time – barring Jennifer’s arrival – the overall routine had not changed. Breakfast was set out on the table every morning by the time he arose. Lunch a few hours later. And dinner some time after that.

The guards had barely troubled him with their presence in all that time, other than as a subtle reminder that he was not in fact free. So what had changed?

He didn’t expect an answer to his question, of course, so he wasn’t surprised when he didn’t receive one.

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