Midnight’s Queen (Stroke of Midnight #3)

Chapter 50

Portia’s next order of business was dealing with the scientists and their memories. She held back a shudder as she walked past the holding cell where she’d been shot. She couldn’t wait until she didn’t have to come down here anymore.

She smiled at the guards and reassured them that she would be fine. Then she stepped into the scientists’ cell. They were looking more rumpled than the day before and tension was riding high in the room. Were they turning on each other? That would be useful.

“Sleep well, gentlemen?” She didn’t bother sitting this time. She wouldn’t be here that long.

They peered at her with bleary eyes. “Not really,” Vance said.

Good.

She didn’t say that, of course. “Guilty conscience?”

“We didn’t do anything wrong,” Johnson whined.

“I beg to differ,” Portia said. “You took proprietary Tremaine Corporation research and used it for your own gain.” She ignored the whole “drugs are bad” argument with these two. She had to describe the extent of their crimes in terms they would understand. “That’s intellectual property theft, and it’s just the start of your problems.”

“Pfft. Your dad is the one who approved the project.”

Portia studied them and smiled sweetly. “Do you have proof of that?” She doubted it. Surely one of them would have tried to leverage it for a deal if they could prove her father had been involved.

They both blinked and looked away. “No,” Vance muttered.

“That’s what I thought.” She hardened her voice. “Now I need to decide what to do with you. You both know the formula for Vyne and that’s a problem for me. So, I’ve decided that the only way to keep my proprietary research, well, proprietary is to keep you down here. Indefinitely.”

“You can’t do that,” they screeched in near harmony. In the cell next door, the street cookers looked startled.

“Can’t I?” Portia said. “I think you forget who you’re talking to.” Her smile was cold and cruel.

“I have a family,” Vance argued.

“Perhaps you should have thought about them before.”

“What will you tell them happened to us?” he pleaded.

“Nothing.” Portia shook her head. “You’ll just disappear.” She made a poof motion with her hands.

“We won’t do it again,” Johnson said. “I promise.”

“Here’s the thing with your promises,” Portia said. “I can’t trust them.”

She paused, studied the occupants of the next cell. “Well, there is one other option. Two, really, but I don’t want to kill you.”

“What’s the other one? The not-killing-us option? Please, we’ll do anything,” Vance wheedled.

She didn’t enjoy seeing grown men beg, but they had to accept the consequences of their actions. They knew what they had been doing and had accepted the ill-gotten gains from their work. Now they had to make a choice. She was just nudging them along a little.

“There’s a procedure to remove memories.”

“You want to turn us into zombies?” Vance asked.

“No. I want to remove your memory of the formula.” And there it was.

“That’s it?”

Portia shrugged. “It’s brain surgery, so it’s not without its risks, but I don’t want to completely wipe your brains. I just want to remove what you stole.”

The two men stared at each other.

“Okay,” Johnson said tentatively. “How do they know which memories?”

“Brain scans.” Portia had read the whole file twice this morning and poured over the testing and safety notes. “I can’t guarantee that it will only take those memories. There might be some bleed-through to other memories, but it’s the only option I can offer you that allows you to walk out of here alive.”

“When do we have to decide?”

She smiled like the Ice Queen again. “Before I leave this cell.”

“You can’t expect us to make a life-changing decision like that so quickly!”

“There you go again, telling me what I can and can’t do. You forget who I am.” Portia stepped toward the door. “Tick-tock, gentlemen. Tick-tock.”

“I’ll do it,” Vance cried. He looked pained, but at least he realized what was at stake. He shook his colleague’s arm. “Bob, you’ve got to do it. Or else you’ll be down here forever. Or worse.”

Johnson stared at her with fear in his eyes. She had no plans to execute anyone, but she wasn’t going to tell them that. If Bob thought there was a more permanent solution to their problem, perhaps he’d take the memory removal.

She let the silence grow for a long moment. She’d made her case and, unfortunately for them, she was the judge and the jury.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

She nodded. “Good choice. Ideally, the procedure will be done by end of day tomorrow.”

Two down, two to go.

“That soon?” Vance asked.

What was it with these guys questioning her authority? “You’re welcome to stay here longer if you like. I thought returning to your families might be of interest.”

Johnson nodded. “Yes. Thank you, Ms. Tremaine, thank you!” Then he tamped down his enthusiasm and asked, “Will we still have jobs after this?”

“I haven’t decided.” With that, she left their cell to make the same offer to the street cookers.