Page 73 of Victorious

“It sounds,” said the director dryly, “like you’ve given this a lot of thought.”

Gabriel had.

And he’d decided, it was time to make some changes.

In the interest of his work.

“I’ve seen firsthand the danger EOs pose,” he said, “both to themselves and others. I know why you keep them locked up here. But to what end? A lifetime in a cell, with no hope of rehabilitation or release?”

She sipped her coffee. “As opposed to what?”

He chose his next word carefully. “Conversion.”

Helena’s brows went up. “You really think it’s possible to weaponize them? Put them in the field? If that’s true, the board will be delighted.”

“No,” said Gabriel. “On the contrary. It’s imperative that they stay here. Where they can be studied. Understood. But as patients, not as prisoners, with EON as a—”

A controlled environment.

“—a treatment center.”

Helena shook her head and set the cup aside. “I’m sure you’ve noticed, Dr. Gray, that the EOs aren’t exactly here by choice. If you let them, they’ll escape.”

“What if they could be compelled not to?” asked Gabriel. Helena’s gaze narrowed. “Hypothetically, of course,” he added.

“The guards wouldn’t stand for it. They risk their lives to keep the EOs in those cells.”

“A good point,” admitted Gabriel. And one that confirmed his decision to handle them first. “But human beings can be persuaded.” He took off his glasses and began to polish them. “Director Roy, there’s no telling what I could learn from these subjects, if given the right tools. Not just about why EOs behave the way they do, but why they became what they are. What underlying combination of personality traits or mental fortitude made biology select them.”

Helena stared at him in silence for a moment. “That kind of intelligence,” she said, “would be extremely valuable.” She crossed her legs, laced her fingers round her knee. “So, if there somehow were a way to guarantee cooperation, I’d be interested in hearing…” She trailed off, registering his surprise. “What?”

“Oh, nothing.” Gabriel shook his head, mouth quirking in amusement. “It’s just, I expected more resistance.… I apologize.”

“For underestimating me?”

“No, not for that.”

His eyes dipped to the espresso cup on the table, Helena’s lipstick on the rim. She followed his gaze and frowned. “What, is something…” she stopped, as if running out of breath. Sweat broke out along her skin.

It was a strange thing, watching the body fight and lose against a drug.

Some worked slow, and others quick. Some were messy, others clean. He’d found the best were sedatives, delivered in high doses. The organs struggled, briefly, as did the brain, fighting to make sense, too slow, of what was happening, before the system shut down.

But that said, there were far worse ways to die.

A fact he knew gave little succor, when you were the one dying.

Too late, Helena Roy tried to stand.

She fell, first to her hands and knees, and then, to the floor beside her chair.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” said Gabriel, rising to his feet and rounding the table.

She gasped, throat constricting as she tried to speak. Reached a desperate hand toward her soldier by the door. But he wasn’t hers. Not anymore. The stone-faced man stood watching, impassive, unconcerned.

If Gabriel told him right now to go get help, he would.

Of course, if Gabriel told him to shoot Helena Roy in the head, he’d do that, too.