BRAINSTORM

Chapter Twenty-seven - Manic Maxwell.

Jack's mind rejected Maxwell's words, but his stomach tightened. That was the original reason Ellen had come to him, but things had changed for both of them since then. Anxiety coiled in his muscles, and doubt pressed its way into his mind. The tension in his stomach unleashed, and in another impulsive move, he spat in the direction of Maxwell's highly polished shoes. It was childish, but he wasn't in the best frame of mind.

Maxwell sat up and looked at the gob of spittle that had just missed his right shoe. "I should kill you for that." It wasn't an observation not a threat.

Jack flew up out of the chair. He needed to get out of here—now.

Maxwell rolled his eyes. "You're smarter than that, Jack. The guards are right outside." He flapped his hand in a downward motion as if giving a command to a dog. "Sit."

Jack didn't move but only because he didn't know what to do. His life hadn't prepared him for this moment. He thought. His wrists were tied, his ankles weren't. He balanced on the balls of his feet, poised to deliver a swift kick.

Maxwell frowned. "Tsk-tsk. You really should listen. Sit. Down." As he spoke, he opened the right drawer of his desk.

Jack bent his knees to gain better power.

"That's enough, Jack!" Maxwell pulled a revolver from the drawer and aimed. Jack froze. Maxwell's actions were calm, as if this were a daily activity for him, like brushing his teeth. He waved the gun at Jack carelessly. Was the safety off? Jack was sure it wouldn't disturb him if it accidentally fired. 

Maxwell's face reddened, and he stood up, clutching the gun tighter. He walked around the desk. "Sit. Back. Down. Now. Or I shoot."

His brain considered and rejected options at a frantic pace. He sat.

Maxwell leaned his rear against the desk. He put a finger to his lips as he held the gun on Jack. "Hmm, now where was I? Oh yes, I was going to review all the times I sent Ellen to you." He tapped his lip. "The first time was after your fuss about the agreement, and then after you had the silly notion to go talk to Jameson. Then, of course, there was the last time."

"I came to her," Jack erupted, his control cracking. He was absolutely certain that Ellen hadn't known he was coming to her apartment that night.

Maxwell scratched his head and nodded slowly. "Hmmm, you're right on that one. My mistake, I guess that was a freebie. But it was still fun to watch."

Jack lunged.

Scott cocked the gun. "Down, Jack."

He froze.

"I'm in control here. It would be wise for you not to forget that. You and that other stupid resident . . ."

Which resident? Jack wondered.

"I have the backing of the CIA, the FBI, and the NIH. And, hmmm, whom have I forgotten? Oh, yes, the President." Maxwell smacked his lips. "The President of the United States is on my side, Jack, not yours." He offered a satisfied smile and nodded. "He knows how TR members are produced. And you know what? He doesn't mind one bit. He just wants us to keep up with the good work, pump out the new discoveries." Maxwell lifted the corners of his mouth in a terrifying leer.

Jack brought his gaze to his feet and thought hard. He had known it was bad here, but he hadn't realized how far the corruption went or how disturbed Maxwell was.

Maxwell rapped his gun on Jack's chair. "Pay attention to me."

Jack kept his eyes on the floor.

"Look at me!"

Jack kept defiantly still. Maxwell put the muzzle of the gun under his chin and forced his head up. "That's better."

Jack was acutely aware of the circle of pressure below his jaw, but he kept his expression blank. Maxwell brought his other hand to the revolver and pushed it deeper into Jack's skin until his head was forced back. His breath hissed onto Jack's neck. "Listen to me closely. I'm going to let you go, but if you make a single wrong move, I will kill you. I'll kill you, and no one is going to care."

Jack didn't respond.

"Oh, and there's something else you should know. Ellen loves me. She always has." His eyes had a manic look to them.

That made no sense. It was just more proof that Maxwell was delusional. Why the hell did he need to believe Ellen loved him? That was really messed up. If he was letting Jack go, it was because he couldn't afford to get caught with Jack's murder on his hands, regardless of what he said. So, there were some limits to what Maxwell could get away with. Jack put away the thought for future reference. "F you."