And there were more records associated with her file.
Tavia paused on one of the entries, frowning as she recognized her own handwriting on a scan-captured page. Still another page followed the first. Several more too, all of them produced by her own hand, filled with names and codes and diagrams. She recognized them all, but she didn't remember writing any of it down.
Chase came over and looked at the screen from over her shoulder. "What is it?"
"A list of Senator Clarence's largest campaign contributors. Every name is here, along with the issuing banks and account numbers from the checks they wrote." "Are you sure?" Tavia nodded. "I was the one who processed the deposits. This is my handwriting." "Why would you give that information to your doctor?"
"I didn't," she said. "I wouldn't. At least, not knowingly."
She paged down to a further document that showed a hand-drawn sketch of a federal judge's residence. Another diagram showed the floor plan sketch of a nuclear plant she'd toured with the senator last spring. Still more documents listed personal data and security-sensitive information on dozens of Senator Clarence's political allies and rivals.
"My God," she whispered, horrified at what she was seeing. "This collection of intelligence would be worth a fortune to enemies of the United States."
"Or to someone like Dragos," Chase said. He pointed to one of the earliest entries in her file. "Open that."
She clicked it, and data from her first in-clinic treatment filled the screen. By the date on the record, she'd been just six months old. Tavia read the page, feeling a mixture of fury and sorrow wash over her as the truth of her origins was spelled out to her in cold, clinical terms.
Ancient + Breedmate genetic splicing successful. Viable female specimen transferred to gestational surrogate. Laboratory live birth at full term. Subject 8 removed to Minion care, residing at 251 Pleasant Street, Saugus, Massachusetts. Admission to treatment program on this date as Patient "Octavia."
She scrolled to a later record and read the information in stunned, sickened silence. "There were others before me, but they died as infants in the medical trials. Dr. Lewis apparently discovered a combination of chemicals and synthetically engineered immunosuppressants that could inhibit blood thirst and halt genetic transformation. He tested it on us, knowing some would die."
Chase's mouth was pressed in a flat line as he read the record along with her. "Life means nothing to Dragos and his followers. Not even the most innocent."
Tavia paged to a different section of her file and quickly read the contents. "He's orchestrated every aspect of my life from the moment I was born. The medical trials and lies about who I was would've been bad enough, but that was only the start of it." She pointed to a notation about her photographic memory. There were references to detailed exercises the clinic had put her through in order to help build her innate ability and hone it like a weapon. There were other documents too, explaining hypnosis sessions that had gone on for hours and days at a stretch - time in which they'd pumped her unconscious mind for information, forcing her to document everything she'd seen and heard, page after page of details, written while her mind and body were under a narcotic spell. It had all been training for the real mission Dragos had in store for her.
Tavia pulled up another entry, no longer shocked by anything she read. The reality of it settled on her like a wet, cold blanket. It chilled her to the bone, made her ache inside with a void she thought might never be filled.
"He used me, Chase. He created me so he could use me. From the very beginning, just like Aunt Sarah - " She stopped herself, closing her eyes at the pang of hurt that welled inside her from the betrayal. "Just like the Minion who pretended to be my aunt had said. Dragos has owned me from day one. He made sure I had the right education, the right contacts, the right social skills and access. Then he cleared the path for me to get my job with an up-and-coming political star like Senator Clarence. All that time, I was nothing but a puppet for him."
"We're all puppets as far as Dragos is concerned. Every living being on this planet is either a tool for him to use or an obstacle that needs to be pushed out of his way."
There was a gravity to Chase's voice that made Tavia's stomach clench with dread. "Can he be stopped?"
The fact that it took Chase more than a few seconds to reply only made the knot in her gut coil a bit tighter, a bit colder. "I don't know," he said. "If you'd asked me that a year ago, I would've had a different answer. Back then, I believed that good always triumphs over evil. Everything was black or white, right or wrong, and the bad guys always lost in the end."
"And now?"
He exhaled a sharp sigh and shook his head. "Now there are moments when I can't even be sure which side I'm on."
Tavia held his haunted gaze. "You're one of the good guys. Maybe you don't know that. Or maybe you've just forgotten. Maybe someday you'll tell me about it."
For the longest time, he said nothing. Just stared at her in a way that made her heart ache a little for him. In that moment, she had the sudden urge to pull him close and reassure him that he wasn't alone. A crazy thought. One that would only earn her a swift, cutting rejection. If Sterling Chase was alone or adrift in his world, it was because he chose to be. He sure as hell didn't need her sympathy or friendship.
Maybe she was the one who needed reassuring.
Not that she'd find that in the stern face and merciless eyes locked on her right now.
To her relief, Mathias Rowan broke the awkward silence as he strode in from the adjacent hallway. "Damn, Chase, you have to see this place. It's more like a data center than a medical clinic. There's a server room at the other end of this corridor that must have thirty stacks of active drives in it. They must be warehousing millions of gigs here."