Stephen Drucker, I am going to find out why you have become such a pain in my ass, and I am going to drag your nose through it while your children watch.

Instead of voicing these thoughts, Cole says, “I hear and I understand your misgivings, Stephen. But in this particular moment, time is of the essence—”

“No,” Stephen says. “No, I’m sorry, but I refuse to accept that. I refuse to allow this young woman to simply inject urgency into the proceedings whenever she wants to send this operation in another direction.”

“Inject urgency?” Cole asks. “This is not a simulation, Stephen.”

“Indeed, it isn’t,” he responds. “It’s a compulsive revenge fantasy based in her traumatic past. And it’s expensive. And risky. She’s currently traveling across one of the largest states in the US with the fruits of our research flowing through her veins.”

“She’s in an empty field in the middle of nowhere waiting on our instructions.”

“Gentlemen,” Julia Crispin says quickly, “this has obviously been a very intense and stressful twenty-four hours for everyone, specifically Charlotte Rowe, who has, I should say, made this request of us directly and candidly. And we should give her credit for that as we—”

“I’m sorry,” Stephen says. “I need to clarify something, Julia. Are you saying we should be impressed that our test subject didn’t simply take it upon herself to tear open the man’s jugular vein with her bare hands without asking first?”

“I am. Because unlike you, apparently, I’ve actually paid attention to what that monster’s done to her, and unlike you, I’m having trouble referring to him as a man.”

“And here we are again!” Stephen barks, holding up his hands in a mock gesture of surrender. “Swimming in this . . . sentiment, and every time we do we lose sight of the most important question. Are we field-testing Zypraxon so we can harvest paradrenaline from her blood, or are we funding reckless vigilante missions? But any such discussion becomes impossible as soon as you all start speaking of our test subject as if she’s a superhero and a martyr in one.”

“It’s also difficult when you mischaracterize the nature of her request.”

Noah’s voice is greeted by silence.

Reacting to his contribution would only make it more disruptive, so Cole stares at the conference table before him, trying not to clench his fists. Noah steps forward until the faces on-screen stop looking for him, appearing to lock on his position. In the end, there’s no reason for Cole’s business partners to be all that surprised their head scientist is at Kansas Command, only that Cole didn’t make clear he was on the call.

It’s not the first time The Consortium’s laid eyes on the mad genius who’s caused them all so much wonder and grief. But the blend of wariness and reverence with which they seem to view him has never changed. Even Stephen looks like he’s afraid Noah might get the jump on him if he looks away.

“Charlotte hasn’t asked for permission to tear open Cyrus Mattingly’s jugular vein. She’s asked for permission to show him the extent of her abilities as a means of frightening him into sharing what he knows of these ‘others.’”

“And then what?” Stephen asks. “We fan out all over the country looking for them?”

“Cole brought me in on this operation so I could assess Charlotte’s actions and mind-set. It would be inappropriate for me to speak to the logistics of the operation at this time. But if we are going to parse the specifics of her behavior, I feel it’s my duty to respond.”

“I apologize for mischaracterizing Bluebird’s request,” Stephen says. “Allow me to clarify.”

Julia cuts in. “Before Stephen launches into another lecture, I’d just like to say I’m in favor of granting her request as she actually made it. So I vote aye. Or whatever it is we’re going to do in this instance.”

“Noted,” Cole says.

As if neither of them has spoken, Stephen continues. “She’s asking to escalate the interrogation to a level where she might lose control of it. That can’t be tolerated.”

“She can control iron with her bare hands,” Cole says.

“I’m not speaking of physical objects. I’m referring to her instincts, Cole. That’s why I vote for denying her request. I propose we order her to stand down on the assurance we’ll interrogate Cyrus Mattingly at Kansas Command. A plan, I should point out, that gives us sterling cover as we add Mattingly to the test subjects in Dr. Turlington’s laboratory. We simply tell Bluebird and her boyfriend that Mattingly died in custody, or we talk sense to them for once and explain that dropping him back into the general population after he bore witness to all of our capabilities would have been insane. Maybe then, once we stop mollycoddling her, she’ll actually take some time to reflect on the insanity of her request.”

“What about the others?” Cole asks.

“The other test subjects?” Stephen asks.

“The other victims. Mattingly made it sound as if there’s a window of time for them and it’s closing. If it didn’t close already during this . . . discussion.”

For the first time since the call began, Philip Strahan speaks up, head bowed, voice a low grumble suggesting he’s uncomfortable with what he’s about to say. “We don’t know if there are other victims. It could just be a boast. Or a tactic.”

“How would it be a tactic?” Cole asks.

“If Charley gave me that speech, I’d be pretty sure she was good and ready to off me as soon as I answered her question. I’d be trying to buy time.”

Former senator Philip Strahan, serial killer whisperer, Cole thinks. Sure, whatever, dude.

“Stephen, do you agree?” Cole asks.

“I’ve cast my vote,” Stephen says. “What’s being asked of me here?”

“Are you also willing to run the risk of other women dying tonight at the hands of men like Cyrus Mattingly?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s just . . .” Cole stops himself, but it feels like his entire face is flushed and beating.

“What?” Stephen says, leaning toward his camera. “It’s what, Cole? Focused? Professional? Necessary? More clear-eyed than you have ever been on these matters? I’ll take any of the above. There are madmen all over the world, and in this very moment some of them are plotting acts of violence and terror that will kill more people in an instant than these serial killers with which you’re so obsessed will claim in their lifetimes. The right use of Zypraxon and paradrenaline could give the world the armor and weaponry needed to wipe those men off the planet or stop them in the very moment they try to act. Charlotte Rowe can’t do that.”

Noah says, “With all due respect, until we find another human in which Zypraxon actually works, she’s the only one who can.”

“Well, sounds like that’s an agenda item for future discussion, then. My vote stands.”

“Philip?” Cole asks.

Without any of Stephen’s pomposity, Philip answers, “The risk of her losing control of the interrogation is too great. I vote no.”

“You realize she didn’t actually kill Richard Davies? We just let her think she did.”