Jonathan Creed

"What if UniCORP simply paid professionals to go kidnap pretty girls?" Jim suggested.

"That wouldn't work; the selection process was too detailed to be random snatch and grabs."

And then suddenly it hit me. I felt an icy vice contract around my stomach. "Uh, Jim ... about those companies that UniCORP might own. Do we have a list yet?"

Jim paused. "Well yeah. Carson brought it up when you were in the bathroom, why?"

I took a deep breath. "Check and see if any of those companies happen to be modeling or acting agencies."

Jim's face paled. He quickly seized the file and flipped through it. "DAMMIT! Jon, you're right. UniCORP owns 'Mystic Agencies, ' and 'Kara Green Agencies' for models, 'Ken Ribbon's Agency for Aspiring Actors, ' and the 'Lonely Lady's private Escort Club.'"

I shivered, "The kidnapping were inside jobs. UniCORP grabbed them at its leisure ... because all the girls worked for them!"

Jim held up his hands. "Jon, none of the girls have gone back to their old jobs. Most of them went into witness protection, and all the others moved out of New York."

"Jim, I sent Sarah back to work today," I said morosely.

"Shit," he said.

The silence after that was uncomfortable.

-------

Jim flipped through the file a second time. "What agency did she model for?"

I read it for the second time, "Lovelace Agencies."

Jim threw the file against the wall. "It's not on this list," he said.

I threw my hands up. "What if it's owned through a surrogate company?"

Jim turned and looked out the window. "Then we're fucked. We don't have warrants to search any privately owned offices that aren't on these lists."

"How long would it take to get one?" I asked desperately.

"A day, maybe longer, "he replied, "especially without hard evidence."

I could feel myself on the edge of panic. "I could go over there and check on her. She might be fine."

Jim shook his head. "I can't stop you from doing that, but you'd be doing it on your own. Without a warrant the FBI can't act."

I stood and started pacing the floor. "If only she had a cell phone ... shit."

He picked up the phone and started dialing ... then he put it back down and swore. "Damn. I don't know what to do Jon. Would the kidnappers really try and take her again? I mean, her neurological unit has been activated, what good is she to them?

I slumped back down in my chair. "I don't know Jim, but I don't want her over there."

He nodded, "I agree. Listen, just go down there and act like a boyfriend who wants to have lunch with his girlfriend. In all likely hood she'll still be there."

The phone rang.

Jim picked it up.

"Hello?" Jim said.

I couldn't hear what was being said on the other line. Jim suddenly looked up at me.

"It's for you," he said. He proffered the phone.

"Jon Creed here," I said.

"Hi, Jonathan, it's Eugene Thompson."

Whatever Dr. Thompson wanted it would have to wait, "This really isn't a good time doctor I was just on my way out."

Dr. Thompson coughed, "Um, Jonathan I'm pretty sure you'll want to hear this."

I sighed, "Okay, what is it? I really have somewhere to be."

He coughed again, "Well, Jon, you'll be happy to know that Carol and I have perfected a neutralizing agent."

A neutralizing agent ... did that mean? "Eugene ... are you talking about something that will destroy the chip in Sarah's head?"

Another cough, "Yes, that's exactly what it is. It's a simply injection that takes small magnetized iron particles through the blood stream. We are hoping that this will have a similar effect that a refrigerator magnet has on a laptop."

I danced a little jig in Jim's office. "That's great news! Do you have the injections here? Could I get one before I leave?"

Dr. Thompson stuttered, "Well yes. How soon do you have to leave?"

"Now," I said with some force.

"Alright, Carol and I are driving over from the Lab with a load of shots in the trunk. We'll be in the underground parking lot within three minutes."

"Yes ... YES ... okay, I'll meet you guys down there. I'm going to get in the elevator right now," I said.

"Alright, see you soon." Dr. Thompson hung up.

Jim looked at me quizzically.

"Dr. Thompson thinks he found a way to neutralize the neural processor," I said excitedly.

Jim frowned, "Aren't you rushing over to make sure Sarah is alright?"

I nodded. "Yes, but they are going to be here any minute, so I'm going to pick up an injection before I leave."

"It's an injection?" He asked.

"Yeah, yeah, something like that. I've got to go Jim, tell Jones about the modeling agency's involvement in the kidnappings."

"Will do," Jim said, as I hurried out the door.

-------

I pressed the 'B' button for basement.

The elevator began its slow descent. My mind was going through possibilities at a million miles an hour.

In all likely hood the kidnappers that were hidden in Sarah's modeling company went into hiding when UniCORP went bottom up.

When I came bursting into the agency all I would find would be photographers and a very confused Sarah.

Still, it I didn't really want her working at a place that had kidnapped her. She probably didn't want to either. I clenched and unclenched my fists.

I would take her home, and give her the injection. Then she would be free of the mind control

'Do you really want that?'

Of course I wanted to free Sarah! She was a living breathing girl who had her freedom ripped away from her.

'But she makes such a wonderful slave. Are you willing to give that up?

Yes, I told myself firmly.

'I don't believe you.'

I gave my head a fierce shake. I was having a conversation with myself ... that wasn't good. Having Sarah in my life had awoken something different inside of me. In a Harvard psychology class I had read about split personality disorders. I knew that those who had suffered trauma were prone to the disorder ... but I also knew that those who possessed high intellects were susceptible as well.

I told myself not to worry. Sarah would be out of my life soon enough ... hopefully this other 'voice, ' this beast ... would leave with her.

I heard a soft chuckle in the back of my head.

-------

The underground parking lot was always deserted in the middle of the day.

During the morning and the late evening it was a place of great social interaction, but right now, everyone was busy slaving through their respective work days.

I had parked my car in the far corner. All the other good spaces had been taken by the time I had arrived.

I looked around.

I should have arranged a specific place to meet down here. I walked to my car, and started it. If they weren't here in five minutes I was going to go get Sarah. I could always come back for the cure.

After three minutes of impatient waiting, I saw the tell tale lights of an approaching car.

Finally, I thought.

A sliver SUV pulled up, and I saw Dr. Thompson behind the wheel with Carol riding shotgun.

Carol turned to Dr. Thompson and whispered something in his ear. He nodded, and Carol smiled. Carol then undid her seat belt, and got out of the car. She was holding the inoculation in her hands.

I waved her over impatiently, "Jesus, I thought you guys said you were almost here! I really need to get over to her modeling agency!"

My voice echoed throughout the cramped parking garage.

"Calm down Jonathan we got here as soon as we would," Carol said calmly.

I sighed, "Okay, sorry for shouting. Now how to I administer this thing? Do I just give it to her like a flu shot or what?"

Carol rolled her eyes. "Look, this shot needs to get to lower cerebral cortex as quickly as possible." Carol popped the cap off the syringe. "So you need to administer the shot directly into the neck."

I nodded, "Sounds easy enough."

Carol smiled. "It is."

She moved so quickly I couldn't even follow her. I felt the thin needle push into the side of my neck. Carol pushed the plunger down and I felt the curious sensation of a cool liquid entering my jugular.

My vision swam, and my body went limp.

-------

Chapter 19

"Master ... master."

Sarah's voice floated above me like a protective angel. I groaned and tried to roll over. To my surprise, I couldn't roll over ... I wasn't even lying down.

"Master, wake up ... you're scaring me..."

I cracked open one bleary eye.

I found myself looking directly into Sarah Gale's perfect green eyes. They were glistening with moisture, and her cheeks were read and puffy.

"Oh Master! Master it's me, can you hear me?"

I groaned, and nodded slowly. My head felt like it was about to split open.

I looked around.

We were in a modern room. Above us, fluorescent lights hummed, and the ceiling was made out of the removable squares.

But these ordinary things lent credence to the extraordinary things.

Like the metal prison style bars that enclosed us in this niche of the room. The bars looked to be made out of the old iron that ancient dungeons preferred.

I attempted to move my hands ... with no luck.

Sarah and I were chained to opposite walls. From what I could see of Sarah, her hands were encased in manacles ... and those manacles were attached to a metal bolt in the wall.

I couldn't see behind myself ... but I assumed my restraints were similar.

I shook my head fiercely ... and tried to remember.

"Sarah," I said huskily... "Sarah, do you know what's going on?"

Sarah was sobbing wretchedly across from me. She looked like the epitome of the damsel in distress. Her hair was wild. She had tears streaming down her cheeks ... and a beautiful blue dress was torn at the bust and at the side, revealing ample amounts of her creamy breasts.

I almost couldn't tell when her sobbing began to sound like words.

"It was Mr. Lovelace Master!" Sarah said. "He was the one who planned my kidnapping! There was no shoot this morning ... he was waiting for me with two other men. He said he was being paid half a million dollars to ... to take me away. I tried to fight them ... but they put this smelly rag on my face ... and I felt so dizzy."

"Shh ... shh ... Sarah, it's alright ... it's alright."

A cold voice pierced our intimate moment. "How do you know everything is alright Mr. Creed?"

My breath caught in my lungs ... and a shiver shot down my spine. I didn't know we were being observed.

I hadn't seen anyone enter our little room.

I looked up.

Standing just outside our cell was Ronald Turner, CEO of UniCORP.

The man could only be described as every woman's dream. He had broad shoulders and a narrow waist. His arms bulged with powerful muscles, and he had a chiseled jaw coupled with dark blue eyes.

He was dressed in a rumpled power suit. I guess being on the run didn't allow for adequate dry cleaning.

I mustered my courage ... and tried to keep a straight tone.

"I guess I don't know if everything is alright. Is everything fine Mr. Turner?"

He glared at me. His handsome face twisted into ugly rage. "No. Everything is not alright. Years of planning has tumbled down around my ears. I hear you're to blame for that."

I tried to give him my best mocking grin, despite the fact that my head felt like shit. "Sorry 'bout that Ronnie."

His dark blue eyes settled into something that could only be called hatred. "That's not actually the reason I've brought you here ... it's just a pleasurable bonus."

Sarah sniffled in the corner. My eyes darted to her ... then back to Ronald.

"Why have you brought us here then?" I asked.

He smiled devilishly, "I'm so glad you asked. You see Jonnie boy ... that girl quietly crying in the corner has something immensely valuable sitting in her pretty little head."

"The neural processer, right?" I said with a sneer.

Turner rolled his eyes. "Is that what the FBI has decided to call my beauties?"

I nodded.

"Figures, I've contemplated hundreds of names based in classical Roman and Greek classical mythology, and some lab geek names them 'neural processors'."

I struggled against my bonds. "Why kidnap us? I'm a high profile target ... and Sarah's processor has already been activated."

Turner laughed. "Because that girl has the last functioning Series X18 chip in the world sitting in her cranium."

I laughed right back at him. "So you lost all your chips? You idiot."

Turner snarled. He grabbed the bars and shook them. He did not present the image of a man in control. "I have stockpiles of chips stashed in secret warehouses all over America! But they're all X16s or A48s."

I raised a cool eyebrow at him. I was trying to anger him... "So what's the difference? I asked sarcastically.

Turner took a deep breath, and let his hands slip from the bars. "The difference, Mr. Creed is evident from Ms. Gale's appearance."

I turned and looked at Sarah. Despite her tears she was still a goddess to behold. Long red hair, and an angelic face.

"The X18's can control the physical features of the subject," I said with wonder.

For the first time I began to seriously contemplate the implications.

Tuner smiled, "I think you're beginning to understand just how valuable she really is."

-------

Ronald Turner and I held eye contact for what seemed like an age.

Water was dripping from a leaky pipe somewhere in the roof. Its consistent noise grated against my ears.

I finally broke the silence. "Why can't you make more? Your company made them ... you should be able to whip up a fresh batch body altering mind control chips in no time."

Turner scoffed. "I was not involved with the actual production. I was merely a checkbook. Elijah Brigs is the mastermind. The chips were his creation; now that he is in custody I have limited options."

"So you must resort to kidnapping so you can replicate what you can't reproduce." I said.

He smiled sweetly. "Yes, something like that. So now I must rip open her head, and pull it out, and you're going to help me."

"You SICK bastard!" Sarah screamed. She jerked against her chains, and fell limp against the wall.

I took a deep settling breath.

"Why do you need my help? Get Carol, or another one of your goons to do it."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why do you think I had you taken as well? For the benefit of this charming conversation?" He chuckled at his own joke.

I waited with grim fascination.

He returned his eyes to mine. "The FBI does not understand the full potential of the X series. As I understand from Carol, that idiot Dr. Thompson was too busy destroying them with his goddamn solution to get a good look at them."

"Those girls needed them destroyed." I said coldly.

He ignored me. "Hence the FBI doesn't know how they function. They couldn't. I was able to escape with all the important information."

Turner gestured to a small duffel bag on the ground.

"So what haven't we figured out?" I said cockily. "Enlighten me."

Turner slowly walked up to the bars. He waited for a moment ... like an actor waiting to deliver a line.

"Each chip has a name," he whispered ... as if he were imparting some piece of vital importance.

There was a brief pause.

"What the hell does that mean?" I asked.

He smiled like a madman. "Each chip has a name ... and that name has power."

He looked at me, and then cocked his head to the side. "According to the files, Sarah's chip is named Violetta."

"I don't understand." I said.

He shrugged, and rummaged in his duffel bag. He produced a laptop and a RN drive. "I suppose you haven't noticed, since she has the sex slave fantasy on it."

I could feel anger welling up inside me. "What haven't I noticed?"

Tuner shrugged. "Think about it. Sex slaves are supposed to do what there Master tells them to do ... to an extent ... so it's no surprise this issue hasn't come up."

"Stop skirting the subject." I said bitterly. "Either explain or don't ... but stop speaking in cryptic messages."

"Very well." He said. "The slave fantasy was not the only code in production. There were others. For example, one code was designed to create the perfect wife ... depending on the individual."

I nodded.

"Well," he continued, "While this fantasy is all very well and good, but this wife might not do everything that her 'imprinter' tells her to do. Why? Because she's a wife, not a sex slave."

I guess that made sense.

He smirked. "So we designed something that would allow the imprinter absolute control should the need arise. You can't change of an existing fantasy if it is already on the chip, but if you know the name of the subject's chip, you can make the subject do anything."

I didn't like the way he said 'anything.' "Why not just make all the chips have the slave fantasy on it? Why bother with all of ... whatever this is?"

He smiled. "I don't think you quite understand the control I'm talking about here. As Sarah's sexual master ... as per fantasy ... you can order her to do anything ... within the scope of reason." He said. "You could ask her to suck your dick ... and she'd do it ... but if you asked her to kill herself ... she'd tell you no way." He paused. "Killing herself isn't part of the fantasy. But as her imprinter, if you wielded the name of her chip ... you could ask her to stop breathing ... and she'd do it."

I spluttered, "You can't order someone to just 'stop breathing.' Even if they held their breath they'd just pass out and breathe anyway."

He shook his finger at me. "That's where you're wrong. If we can design a chip that can order the brain to change the body ... that same chip can order the brain to shut the lungs down. Absolute control. With the name of the chip you can order Sarah's body to do anything. She is literally your plaything."

I felt my stomach churning.

"So how does this help you get the chip back? And why do you need me?" I asked tentatively.

He scowled. "Weren't you listening? I need the imprinter to say the name. The chip doesn't accept its name from anyone else."

I swallowed hard. "So you need me to give an order ... right?"

His eye flashed, and he fixed me with a crazed stare.

"Yes ... but you won't like it."

-------

I was trembling in my chains.

Sarah was crying abjectly in the corner. Her body was wracked with the sobs of the condemned.

"You're a sick fucker Turner." I said shakily.

He just grinned. "I still don't think you understand the scope of the power the X18s posses. They could cure cancer ... old age ... Altimers. The last key to immortality is locked up in her head."

My mind was frantic ... I needed to buy time ... I needed to think of a plan ... and if what I was feeling in my pocket was what I thought it was ... I might just have one.

"So why did you auction these things off if they were so important? Surly you must realize now that a clumsy and insecure auction to a few wealthy clients was not in your best interest."

His grin soured. "I had nothing to do with any of this mess. My business, my plans and my image lie in shambles due to the greed of two stupid men."

Something clicked in my head. "These are the men that tried to get away in your jet ... right?"

He nodded bitterly. "Donavan and Nicholas betrayed me. They wanted fast money ... they wanted to get rich quick." He paused. "The A48s were the chips that had all the sexual fantasies on them. That was their intended purpose. We wanted to test the limits of our new technology ... so they did what any lab filled with men would do. We got a woman to be a trial run ... so to speak. Donavan and Nicholas had the idea to kidnap scores of girls ... and sell them as living dolls to the highest bidder."

Turner clenched and unclenched his fists.

"But by the time they had kidnapped enough girls, all the A48s were all neatly packed away ... hidden around the country. So they decided the chips that were still in the office would work just as well. They used the new models. They stole my precious X18s ... the most amazing and ingenious examples of human achievement ... and put the sexual fantasies on them."