Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Ben opened his eyes to soft lighting and the quiet hum of a climate-control system, not the harsh fluorescents and concrete walls he’d been expecting.
He wasn’t in restraints or strapped to an interrogation chair, wasn’t caught in any of the nightmare scenarios that had flashed through his mind during his brief, violent capture — the one that had ended with his head hitting the ground so hard, he’d lost consciousness.
He was lying on an actual bed. Not a particularly comfortable one, but functional enough.
The room looked like standard dormitory accommodations — a desk with a matching chair, a bathroom visible through an open door.
To one side, a window showed hazy sunlight flickering through a stand of tall evergreens.
The only indication that this was a cell rather than a guest room was the absence of any door hardware on the inside.
He sat up slowly and cataloged his physical condition.
His wrists were sore where they’d zip-tied him during transport, but the restraints were gone now.
His head throbbed from that impact with the ground, but the blow didn’t seem to have caused any significant damage.
All his clothes were right where they were supposed to be, except for his equipment belt, which had clearly been confiscated.
Most importantly, he was alone. No guards watching to see when he might wake up.
He got up from the bed and moved to the window to study what he could see of the world outside.
Dense forest crowded around the facility on three sides, with a single access road visible to the north.
The building itself appeared to be a converted military installation — Cold War–era construction, most likely decommissioned sometime in the nineties and purchased through one of DAPI’s shell companies.
Three stories above ground from what he could see, although the angle of the window suggested there might be several levels below as well.
He went to check his watch and found it had also been confiscated, so he tried to estimate the time based on the sun’s position. Maybe around three in the afternoon. He’d been unconscious during transport for the greater part of the day, which meant he could be almost anywhere.
But he didn’t think he’d been taken far. Rosenthal would want her facility close enough to Silver Hollow and its portal that she could deploy agents quickly if necessary.
Was there any way he could get out of here? Possibly, but nothing he could see from this room offered any clear possibilities. He kind of doubted DAPI built facilities with flashing exit signs.
Besides, the question was basically moot. There was no way to open the door from the inside, and he didn’t have any of Sidney’s abilities. He couldn’t blow open the lock using the power of his mind and nothing else.
A soft beep preceded the door’s electronic lock disengaging. Ben turned to face whoever was coming and tried to look casual despite the adrenaline that surged through his body.
Dr. Rosenthal entered first, her neat suit and cool demeanor unchanged from that morning’s operation.
Behind her came a man Ben didn’t recognize — early forties, sandy blond hair, wire-rimmed glasses that didn’t quite conceal a pair of startling blue eyes.
He wore a lab coat over business casual and was slim and tall, probably around Ben’s own six feet.
“Mr. Sanders.” Rosenthal sounded brisk as usual, although Ben detected just the slightest hint of something that might have been concern — or would have been, if he’d been talking to anyone else.
“I trust you’re feeling well? The medical team cleared you during intake, but if you’re experiencing any discomfort, we can arrange treatment. ”
He kept his expression neutral. “Where’s Sidney?”
“Ms. Lowell escaped during the operation. Agent Morse assisted her exit.” For a moment, Rosenthal’s cool gaze flickered, and Ben guessed that inside she was royally pissed that someone who used to be on her team had betrayed her in such a way. “Which brings us to you. Please, sit.”
She gestured to the desk chair.
Ben crossed his arms and didn’t move. “No, thanks. I’ll stand.”
Rosenthal inclined her head slightly, acknowledging the small act of defiance. “As you wish. Mr. Sanders, I’ll be direct. Your relationship with Ms. Lowell and your expertise in cryptozoology make you uniquely valuable to our work. We’d like to offer you a position as a consultant.”
Seriously, a recruitment pitch?
The woman had a hell of a lot of nerve. However, he kept his face carefully blank, willing himself not to give anything away.
“Before you refuse,” Rosenthal continued, “allow me to introduce Dr. Eric Hargrove, our lead scientist on the Phoenix Project. Eric, perhaps you’d like to explain what we’re doing here?”
Hargrove stepped forward, and Ben noticed how the man’s gaze wouldn’t quite meet his. Was he uncomfortable about this meeting?
Maybe the simplest explanation was that he was on the spectrum, like a lot of other scientists Ben had met over the years, and social interactions were awkward for him.
“Mr. Sanders, I’ve followed your work for years.
” Hargrove sounded enthusiastic despite the way his eyes seemed fixed on something just outside the window.
“You’ve shown real nimbleness of intellect by changing your field of study from archaeology to cryptozoology, and by applying academic rigor to a field that many still prefer to discount.
That tells me you have the mental flexibility to be of real value to us. ”
Flattery will get you nowhere, Ben thought, but he only stood in silence, waiting to see what else the other man had to say.
“We’re on the verge of a breakthrough,” Hargrove continued, apparently unruffled by the lack of response to his pitch.
“For the first time in human history, we’re not just observing supernatural phenomena — we’re replicating it, controlling it.
Imagine the ramifications for science and for national security. ”
Ben didn’t want to imagine those ramifications, not when he thought he knew where all this was heading.
“The phoenix,” he said, frowning slightly despite his best efforts to keep his expression neutral. “You’re harvesting its essence to power an artificial portal.”
Hargrove’s eyes widened. “Ms. Lowell told you — ”
“Sidney didn’t need to tell me anything,” Ben broke in, not caring how rude he sounded.
“It’s a logical progression of the work you’ve been doing.
The correlation between the surveillance network activation and the phoenix’s corruption was obvious.
” He paused there and deliberately met the other man’s gaze.
To no surprise, Hargrove looked away almost at once. “You’re killing it to steal its power.”
“We’re advancing human knowledge,” Rosenthal interjected, clearly deciding it was time she took over the conversation. “The phoenix is a single organism. The technology we’re developing could protect millions of lives.”
“By weaponizing forces you don’t understand.
” Despite his best efforts, Ben’s voice rose slightly, driven by the anger building within him.
He forced himself to breathe, to pull back before he said something that would get him thrown in an actual cell.
“You’re not scientists. Scientists observe, document, and seek understanding.
You’re strip-mining something sacred just because you can. ”
“‘Sacred’?” Rosenthal repeated. Her expression remained neutral, but Ben caught the flicker of annoyance in her dark eyes. “Mr. Sanders, I didn’t take you for someone who prioritized mysticism over pragmatism.”
Well, there’s your first mistake, he thought. A man who drops a career in archaeology to chase chupacabras usually isn’t the most practical person in the room.
But he decided not to voice that view aloud.
“I prioritize not destroying things I can’t replace.
” He glanced over at Hargrove, who was now studiously examining the floor.
“The phoenix is so much more than a power source. It’s a keystone species in a supernatural ecosystem we barely comprehend.
Removing it will have cascading effects across the entire portal network. ”
“Which is precisely why we need to understand and control it,” Rosenthal said without missing a beat.
“Mr. Sanders, the world is changing. Supernatural phenomena are manifesting with increasing frequency. Governments around the globe are racing to weaponize these forces. If the U.S. doesn’t lead in this field, we’ll find ourselves vulnerable to powers we can’t defend against.”
It was a rational argument, Ben had to admit, the kind of reasoning that had probably convinced Congress to fund DAPI in the first place. National security, protecting citizens, maintaining global dominance — all reasonable concerns for people in the government.
If you ignored the cost.
“Show me,” Ben said, and both Rosenthal and Hargrove sent him startled looks. “Show me this breakthrough technology. If it’s as revolutionary as you claim, let me see it functioning. Let me evaluate for myself whether the cost is justified.”
Rosenthal studied him for a long moment. Ben kept his expression open, curious, trying to give her what he knew she wanted to see — a scientist who might be persuaded by evidence.
“Very well,” she said at length. “Mr. Sanders, if you’ll come with us?”
He didn’t see her give the signal, but the door opened silently, and the three of them left the room where he’d been held.
They led him through corridors that confirmed his earlier assessment — a converted military installation with multiple levels both above and below ground.
Hargrove walked beside him, continuing his enthusiastic explanation of the Phoenix Project while Rosenthal led the way with two armed guards trailing behind their little group.