Suspicious Minds (Stranger Things Novels #1)(72)

     Babe—



Promising beginning, she thought. Maybe he was already over this “let’s stay apart while I’m away” business.

     Just wanted to drop a line from weekend furlough. And let you know that I leave tomorrow—I’ll make sure to get you an address to write to. I’ll call home when I can, and Mom made me promise to write every week. So you can get updates from her. I miss you. But I know we made the right decision.

I want you to live your life while I’m gone—think of me sometimes. I’ll be dreaming of you and settling down in the Shire. No Grey Havens for us.

All my love,

Andrew



Longing hit her, so strong it made her weak.

But then it helped her rally. Andrew was deploying to Vietnam, where he’d be fighting for his life and the lives of those around him. So, yes, she could get in a van with her friends and go face the monster who told stories about killing rabbits, like keeping children prisoner for experiments was somehow less disturbing than that. She could fight for a better future than the one Alice saw.

It’s why you started this in the first place.

And she could definitely appreciate the shock on Brenner’s face when the reporter showed up. So she tucked the postcard into her purse—she wanted to keep it close to her—and touched a finger to the photo of her and Andrew together, grinning in bed, where she’d tucked it into the edge of the mirror on her side of the room. She had been sleeping better. While she’d hated the idea of not being officially together in the moment, if it helped her and Andrew get through this time, maybe he’d been right to suggest it. The distinction was slight. He was still in every beat of her heart.

“So you’re going?” Stacey asked.

“I’m going.”

“You might want to put on pants.”

“My brain is a mess.” Terry sighed. And her pants were all too tight lately. “I’ll wear a skirt.” She went to the wardrobe and swung open the door to paw through her options. There it was, long, flowy, and forgiving—perfect. She pulled it up over her hips. “Aren’t you going to ask what Andrew said?”

“Nah,” Stacey said. “I read it when I got the mail.”

Terry lunged at the bed to grab a pillow, then flung it at her giggling roommate. It all felt so normal, except of course for where she was headed.





2.


The men arrived in Hawkins early, a line of three black cars racing sunrise, perhaps believing they’d catch Dr. Brenner unprepared. He greeted them at the entrance. He hadn’t expected the director himself to come, and he didn’t know whether to take the man’s attendance as a positive or negative sign.

“Gentlemen, so glad you could make it,” he said, as if they weren’t three hours ahead of schedule. “Especially you, Jim. How was the trip from Langley?”

“Uneventful,” Jim answered, already looking over at the building, past Brenner.

A negative sign, then.

The director’s suit was dark and well-tailored, but Brenner had worn his best gray. It put the other man’s to shame. He recognized a few of the others in attendance from previous encounters at meetings and in base laboratories. Important, though not as important as the director.

“Well, that won’t be the case here.” Brenner led them in past the guard desk. Men like this didn’t sign in when they visited one of their top-secret investments—they preferred not to leave records of their movements. “I promise this will be the most exciting demonstration of your week.” He didn’t want to overpromise, though he’d almost gone ahead with “year.” Possibly even “life,” given that now he had the promise of Terry Ives’ baby in addition to Eight.

“Certainly the most expensive,” one of the men said. His shoes gleamed with polish and so did his hair.

“Achieving the extraordinary often requires an extraordinary cost,” Dr. Brenner said. “And you are?”

“My apologies. Bob Walker,” he said and didn’t extend his hand to shake.

Brenner nodded at him. Noted. He would pay attention to the director and this man. The others gave their names but they were obviously along for the ride, entourage as status indicator. The director never traveled solo these days. Brenner had heard stories of his wild field career, lines blurred and then obliterated, and he believed them. Seeing him in the company of bean-counters was a shame. Men of vision were increasingly rare.

He pressed the intercom and explained he was bringing back the day’s herd of VIPs. The doors buzzed and the soldiers posted as guards saluted the director.

“I wondered,” Bob Walker said, “if we might interview the rest of your executive staff about this…project and its costs.”

They weren’t here only because Brenner had invited them, he realized. They were here with the intention to end his work. Or at least this man was. What could his motive be?

Ah, yes.

“Did you serve with our former security officer by any chance?” Brenner asked.

“Yes, in a previous life. Good man.”

Mystery solved. “I’d be happy to answer whatever questions you have. The staff reports to me, after all,” Brenner said.

“We’d really like to speak with them directly. And meet some of your subjects. I understand you have children here?” Bob asked. “It doesn’t sound strictly aboveboard, if you’ll pardon my saying.”