Page 54 of Victorious

Gabriel leaned closer, studying Victor’s expression for signs of anger, or resentment. But he found nothing. The man wore his calm like a mask, fused to his face.

Gabriel Gray was very good at reading people.

But he couldn’t read Victor. Not like this.

“What else do you know about him?”

Helena crossed her arms. “Oh, we know plenty. My predecessor was obsessed with Victor Vale. He was the first EO Stell ever met. I suppose you could say he’s the reason EON exists.”

Which meant Victor was essential to Gabriel’s work.

“I’d like to see his file.”

“Later,” said Helena, heading for the door. “First, let’s finish the tour.”

Every hall inside EON looked exactly the same.

Gabriel assumed it was intentional, designed to disorient its prisoners, dehumanize them, make them feel like rats in a maze. Hardly an environment that engendered cooperation.

“How is your staff recruited?” he asked, as they rounded another white corner. Passed another series of windowless doors.

“Special forces, mostly,” answered Helena, “since they tend to have the discipline as well as the discretion. As you’ve probably guessed, EON demands not only strength, but secrecy. Half of our job is ensuring that EOs remain a private threat, and not a public enemy.”

Gabriel attempted to keep the disapproval from showing on his face. “Do all the soldiers live on-site?”

She shook her head. “Only the guards, who are stationed here between their shifts. Field agents live off-site. But their activities are closely monitored, and they’re discouraged from forming … attachments. Anything that might compromise their loyalty to EON.”

Gabriel frowned. “People in high-stress environments generally require means of decompression.”

Helena’s mouth twitched. “Spoken like a therapist.” Her heels clicked on the tile. “Most were deployed in active combat zones. As far as they’re concerned, they’re still at war. We provide them ways to blow off steam between rotations and keep a close eye on everyone who serves.” She waved her hand. “But your role would be to analyze the EOs, not the agents.”

“I would hope I’d be allowed to extend my services to everyone within this building. To ensure their well-being. And their stability. As you said, EON depends on it.”

“My soldiers understand the gravity of their position.”

Your soldiers, he thought, fingers tensing around a pencil that wasn’t there. If it had been, he’d have registered the pride, and the possession.

“You put a great deal of stock in them, Director Roy. I take it you’ve never had to deal with weak links, or defectors?”

Her expression tightened, almost imperceptibly. “I don’t know any unit that can say it’s never had an issue. As far as I know, every soldier—field agent or guard—is devoted to their cause. They stake their lives on it. But at the end of the day, Dr. Gray, they’re human beings. We can’t control their every move, or thought.”

Gabriel considered that, an idea beginning to take shape. A vision, for what this place was, and with his help, what it could be.

Helena opened her mouth to say something else, but she was overtaken by a sudden, blaring sound.

He saw her lips shape the word fuck as the lights overhead went from white to red, the color rippling down the corridor. Gabriel turned to see a figure sprinting toward them from the far end of the hall.

A teenage boy, his torso half escaping from a straitjacket, one sleeve flapping as he stumbled, trying to free himself.

A guard surged around the corner behind him, gloved hand gripping what looked like a cattle prod, the edge arcing blue. At the same time, another appeared behind Helena.

The boy had gotten both hands free by now, but with the way ahead and behind both blocked, he didn’t seem to know what to do next. His breath hitched, and he sank to his knees.

“I don’t want any trouble,” he gasped, the words little more than shapes under the alarm. His eyes locked onto Gabriel, pupils blown wide with childish panic and animal fear.

He’d seen the look before. On patients recently admitted. Most against their will. Ones who didn’t trust the system. Ones who didn’t know how they were broken. But understood they were.

Who couldn’t ask for help, even when they knew they needed it.