Act of Surrender: An Immortal Ops World Novel (PSI-Ops / Immortal Ops Book 2)

by Mandy M. Roth

  It was the closest thing to a home she’d ever had and she was damn proud of it. Despite what it looked like or lacked in amenities—pretty much everything. It served its purpose and gave her a place to do what she did best.

  Hack.

  Information came at a speed most normal people’s brains couldn’t process, but Laney was hardly what one would term normal. She never had been. She could absorb and sort out data at a rate that would shock most people.

  Some called her a hacker. That wasn’t exactly true. She saw herself as more of a hackivist—bringing the truth of the government’s secret activities to light. People knew of GothGirl—the name but not the person. They knew nothing of the person. Most just called wrote off her theories as crazy. But she knew she wasn’t. That what she was trying to bring to light was true.

  She was living proof.

  People were so narrow-minded, refusing to believe in what seemed impossible yet was anything but. She was proof of that. Plus there was so much more than what she’d found out about herself.

  “Blue Butterfly would be proud,” she said, thinking of her internet friend she’d met nearly a year ago. They’d never actually met in person, but that hadn’t mattered. Blue Butterfly had helped Laney in her search for information on her birth and birth mother. In return, Laney had assisted Blue Butterfly with an encryption program. When Blue Butterfly began to drop hints as to why and for what, Laney took that as permission to start digging on the woman’s behalf. That was how Laney learned the truth about what she’d suspected.

  Supernaturals were totally real.

  There were men who could shift into animals and they worked for the government. She bit at her lower lip as she thought about her latest run-in with a high-ranking government official. She’d waited outside a black-tie event in the pouring rain for hours for a chance to ask the senator about the secret program, only to end up being hauled into the police station and threatened. If she came within fifty feet of the senator again, she’d find herself in jail.

  Or so they claimed.

  They’d have to find her first. It wasn’t like she lived a life on the grid. No. She’d vanished from the system in her early teens and hadn’t surfaced again using her own identity since. Laney Steele no longer existed, at least on paper. GothGirl did, but the trail she’d left behind went everywhere and nowhere. It would lead anyone looking into the alias on a wild goose chase of the virtual variety.

  A testament to her skills.

  The authorities would be chasing a ghost. She took some pleasure in that as she wasn’t known for wanting to help the Man in any way.

  “The Man can suck it.”

  Laney had a distinct and overwhelming dislike of the Man—which to her, encompassed government and the real people who were in control of the government—big business and secret societies. They were all in bed together, deciding the fate of people without giving them any say in the matter. They played god with people’s lives and they did what they pleased without the public ever knowing what they were really up to. The world was run by bullies who used their armies and hired guns to enforce their secret agendas.

  She and her fellow group of like-minded online community were trying to make a difference. Trying to gather in the information they needed to stop it all. Not to mention information Laney needed to make sense of herself.

  The screen to her left blinked as a window popped up, alerting her to a hit on one of the scanning programs she had running. The feed came across the screen, first in nothing more than coding, and then, as her decryption program did its magik, actual information, and she smiled. Lists of test subjects scrolled by her. Though they had names like Test Subject 87P, rather than given names. Still, it was something to go off of. More than she’d had yesterday.

  Blue Butterfly had vanished from the net about seven months back. For her to leave no virtual trail that Laney could track was a serious worry. Laney was an expert. If Laney couldn’t track someone using technology, something was wrong.

  “The stupid friggin’ man probably nabbed her.”

  Pausing the information flow, Laney looked to the screen and scrolled back to the files for Test Subject 87P, the urge to investigate this particular subject great enough that she couldn’t ignore it. She accessed the file, waiting, watching as her program worked its magik, revealing information in increments. At first, it looked to be sequencing something to do with DNA, but she didn’t understand it enough to read what she was seeing. Next, her program decrypted detailed chart entries.

  Test Subject 87P fought with guards.

  Punished.

  Test Subject 87P resistant to scientists.

  Punished.

  Test Subject 87P was denied food or water for three days as a lesson for previous behavior. When guards entered the cell, he attacked them.

  Punished.

  Test Subject 87P is protective of the females, employees or not. Suspect it has to do with his alpha nature. Will investigate further.

  Laney’s gut tightened with the seemingly endless lines of information about just how much this Test Subject 87P had been punished. When some of the reprimands were spelled out clearly, she thought she might be sick.

  “Oh my god, they’re evil,” she whispered. “Absolutely evil.”

  More and more on the subject in question spewed forth onto her screens. She spotted video files and quickly moved out of the area. She couldn’t see what they’d done to this man. She couldn’t witness it with her own eyes.

  Not now.

  She’d be sick.

  She just knew it.

  She’d need an entire bottle of wine before she could even think to open the video files, and even that might not be enough to numb the horror she knew she’d feel as she watched the cruelties this place was capable of.

  A bittersweet taste coated her tongue. She’d been mining data for nearly two years on the subject and finally had a breakthrough. She pushed her long, black hair back from her face as she keyed in a few strokes, delving deeper into the newly accessed information. She’d taken to adding purple streaks to her hair and a section of it pushed forward into her face once more. Harmony would tease her if she saw her and tell her to cut her hair and try to be a little more low-key.

  As Laney read the information on the test subject she’d pulled up, her stomach twisted. The doctors and scientists had shown the male no mercy. The world she’d stumbled into had some sick sons-of-bitches in it. The proof was before her.

  She was onto to something big.

  Really big.

  Of course, no one would believe her. Well, no one outside of her online fellow conspiracy theorists. Some of them were total whack jobs though, so she never truly counted them all. Harmony would have a hard time swallowing all of the truth. She tended to take Laney in stride, as did most.

  She looked over her current article. It was coming along nicely. She wouldn’t put it live until she had more facts to back up her claims. This was a gem, full of information she’d gathered both digitally and with some major boots on the ground. She’d put thousands of miles on her old beater of a car and wasn’t sure how long it would hold up. While she had the skills needed to steal a new one out from under the noses of any car dealership, that wasn’t her style. She only took when she had no other choice. For all the rest of her needs she hired out her skills and used the money to fund her obsession.

  Seeking the truth.

  Her attention went to the picture of a giant office building in France. It had recently been the scene of a number of explosions. Of course, the company, Donavon Dynamics, claimed it was an internal error—caused by an employee accidently mixing a catalyst and a cobalt. She wasn’t buying their cover story. It was shaky at best and held little water.

  The place was built like Fort Knox and from everything Laney could gather on the Donavon Dynamics website, they were extremely selective in their hiring process—they hired the best of the best. She highly doubted they’d hire a moron who would be careless enoug
h to cause an error of that magnitude.

  For the past three weeks Laney had been digging up anything and everything she could find about Donavon Dynamics. She had yet to uncover all their dirty little secrets, but she’d linked them to enough already to know they were not on the level. They weren’t about doing good for mankind.

  Not at all.

  With a strong need to find anything else to occupy her mind, Laney logged into one of the chat servers she sometimes frequented. It was a hotspot for fellow conspiracy theorists who also enjoyed gaming.

  Her gaze ran over the screen as she searched for one screen name in particular. LabLupus. It had only been a few hours since they’d last spoken, but she missed the sound of his voice.

  He was newer to the forums, but they’d struck up a friendship of sorts in a very short time. She smiled when she saw his screen name there. Within seconds she was invited to a private room by him. She put on her headset and couldn’t stop the flurry of butterflies that tickled her belly as he spoke.

  “Hey there, GothGirl,” he said, a deep timbre to his voice. “I was hoping you’d come back on before too late.”

  “Miss talking to me?” she asked, silently hoping he did.

  “Yes,” he said with such conviction that her breath caught. “Every all right?”

  Laney didn’t exactly want to confess she was elated he’d missed speaking with her. She didn’t want to sound pathetic. She’d missed him too. She wasn’t sure why he had such an effect on her, but he did. The bond she’d forged with him by simply talking was strong. Stronger than it should be. She understood as much. “Um, yes. Sorry. I wanted to share my good news. I just had a breakthrough in my data mining,” she admitted.

  “Going to tell me about it?” he questioned, his voice tight.

  “It’s something that will expose the corruption in big business and how the governments around the world climb into bed with them, letting them do as they please while labeling it scientific advancements,” she answered. “Enough of all that. I want to talk about you. You’re not still in the lab, are you?”

  “I actually enjoy hearing about what you’re working on,” he said.

  She snorted. “Most people just laugh.”

  “I’m not laughing.”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” she said, wanting off the topic of herself. So far, LabLupus was the one person she’d let semi-close who didn’t make fun of her for her theories. She wanted to keep it that way if possible. “You’re not at work still, are you?”

  “Yes. Been in the lab all day going over the same samples,” he said, a tightness entering his voice.

  Laney sat up more, disliking knowing something was bothering him. While they’d only been chat buddies for a short time and they’d never exchanged pictures or met in person, he was important to her. Very important. She really couldn’t explain why. “I’m sorry. I wish I could help you in some way. I know this is important to you even though you won’t tell me what exactly it is you’re trying to find in the samples.”

  He was quiet a moment and she feared he might actually leave the chat. Something close to panic began to rise within her at the idea he might be upset with her and stop speaking to her. As the realization settled over her that she couldn’t go a full day without conversing with him, her pulse raced and beads of sweat began to form on her brow.

  Holy crapola, I’m really into this dude.

  “Thank you,” he said, breaking the long pregnant pause that had bloomed in their conversation. “There are certain anomalies I’m attempting to isolate so that I can better understand a few other things.”

  It was easy to hear he didn’t want to expand further on what he was doing. She could respect that. She cleared her throat and decided a new topic was in order. “I wanted to thank you for the suggested reading material on servicemen suffering from PTSD. It’s been very helpful.”

  “The veteran you’re refusing to tell me much about,” he said softly. “How is he doing?”

  “As good as can be expected,” she said. “It helps me to understand a little more about what he might be going through. I can’t thank you enough. I’ll never really get what it’s been like to walk in his shoes, to see and do what he’s had to do, but now I’m at least better able to try. As a doctor, do you treat a lot of men and women who served?”

  A shaky laugh came from him. “You could say that. Also, I’ve served myself. I can very much relate.”

  It was difficult to keep from liking the man even more. Laney had a soft spot for veterans. “Thank you.”

  “For?” he asked.

  “Serving,” she said.

  Dead air seemed to last forever before he spoke. “I’ve told you already that if you want, I can come to you—meet somewhere neutral—and see what I can do to help these men. I’m more than qualified as both someone who has been in their shoes and a medical professional.”

  “How do you know there are more than one?” she asked.

  He laughed softly. “Your voice. The things you say to me. Makes me think you’re keeping an eye on a number of men who served in the military but who no longer fit into society’s norms.”

  “They’re good men,” she said a little defensively. She would do anything to protect them.

  Anything.

  “I know,” he returned. “I can tell by the way you talk about them that you care. A lot. That is a good thing. A really good thing. Sometimes, it can feel like you’re totally and completely alone.”

  “I do care about them,” she said, her voice low. “They’re like family to me.”

  “I guessed as much. And I’m happy to hear you’ve made a breakthrough in your data mining,” he said, sounding anything but pleased with the news she’d shared. “Can you tell me anything more?”

  “This group I’m looking into is totally screwed up and they need to be stopped,” she said, before thinking better of it. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”

  He sucked in a slow breath. A prickle of unease settled over her and she could have sworn it radiated from him. That was crazy. “Tell me what you’re working on,” he said, a cautious note in his voice.

  “You’ll tell me I’m nuts. My best friend tells me that daily,” she said, hoping to lighten the mood. “The guy your info on PTSD helped me with, he’d believe me, I’m sure of it, but I don’t tell him what I’m doing. He’ll lecture me on the dangers out there and how the big bad wolf will come and eat me for interfering.”

  “He’s probably not far from wrong,” he said. “I won’t judge you.”

  Laney bit at her lower lip and then decided to give him a small sample of what she’d been doing. “What if I told you I think supernaturals are real?”

  “Like Bigfoot?” he questioned, a teasing note in his voice. “I’ve heard there are already teams dedicated to trying to find him. I’m pretty sure he sits in a tree, looking down at them, thinking, ‘Stupid humans’.”

  Laney’s cheeks lifted as she smiled wide. “I’m being serious.”

  “So am I,” he said. “Okay, so you’re talking more on the lines of vampires and stuff?”

  She shrugged. She was about to admit to him, out loud, what got her labeled a nutjob. “Yes. But all kinds of other supernaturals too. Like men who can turn into animals. Werewolves and other were-creatures. Even skinwalkers. Witches. Faeries. Other mythical creatures.”

  “Go on,” he said, something raw in his voice.

  “And what if I told you there was a group of powerful companies, certain governments and people that banded together to form a coalition of sorts—a corporation—that while on the outside they appeared normal and helpful, behind it all they were monsters who hurt people and supernaturals? That they want to create a master race? That they have an end goal to make super-supernaturals?” she asked, waiting for him to laugh.

  “I’d say it’s dangerous to be digging up information on this corporation and that it would be unwise to continue to put yourself in harm’s way.”

  �
�You don’t think I’m batcrap crazy?”

  He spoke, “I think you’re painting a target on yourself.”

  “You sound like Casey,” she said.

  “I take it Casey is the veteran you wanted information on PSTD for.”

  Laney stilled. She hadn’t meant to say Casey’s name. She knew how private he was. How much he didn’t want to be on the grid in any way. “Do you believe me?”

  “Does it matter?” he asked.

  It did. More than it should. “Yes.”

  “Then I believe you. And I believe this corporation would have to be powerful and willing to do anything to silence someone they viewed as a threat to their coalition. And GothGirl, I would think a young woman mining data in their servers would be viewed as a threat. Do you agree?”

  “I guess, but they’d need to know what I was up to and they don’t,” she boasted. “I’m that good. I get the data I need right under their noses and they’re none the wiser.”

  “Or they want you to believe they have no idea, but in reality they’re monitoring you,” he returned, sounding very sure of himself.

  She tensed. “Maybe. I’m careful though.”

  “GothGirl,” he said, real concern radiating from his voice. “These people don’t sound like people you should cross.”

  Laney reflected a moment, weighing how smart it was to give away information about herself to someone who was technically a stranger. Something deep within told her it was the right thing to do. Harmony was the only other person beside her “boys”, as she referred to them, who knew her name. She was about to add one more person to that short list. “Laney. Please call me Laney. It’s my name.”

  “Laney.” He hummed softly, the sound making her belly tingle with desire. “That is a great name. Rolls off the tongue much easier than GothGirl.”

  She smiled. “I understand if you don’t want to share your name.”

  “James, but most people call me Jimmy or Hagen,” he said quickly. “Guess it depends on whichever you prefer. I went through a brief spell in the last ten years or so that I picked Jimmy, but honestly, no matter how far I run or how much I try to change, or what someone calls me, under it all, I’m still just me.”