Red Zone

by Janet Elizabeth Henderson

  “I want to align forces. I want”—she licked her red, red lips before continuing—“to find this missing girl before Miriam kills her.”

  His eyes turned sharp. “You want to download the information in the scientist’s head and use it against Miriam.”

  “Oui.” She purred the word and watched his face flush.

  Men. Too, too easy.

  “But, Sandrine darling, have you forgotten that you, too, were at the meeting? If you compromise Miriam, you also compromise yourself. You compromise all of us.” There was a bite of warning in his tone that she dismissed.

  “True. But if one were to leak other information at the same time, that person could make it seem as though their only role in the meeting was to undermine the nefarious plans of the group.”

  “You want to tell the world you were there acting as a spy? That your involvement was for the greater good?”

  Her laughter was tinkling. “Well, at least we can say it was for my good.”

  “For the public to believe you were there with honest intentions, you’d need corroboration of your story.” His smile was knowing. “You’d need me.”

  “We can spin the meeting any way we like. The way I would tell it is that we were invited to take part, but once we learned what they intended, we instantly made our views known. After that, our consciences wouldn’t allow us to do anything else but go public with the information and undermine their plans.” She ran her palm down her thigh, watching him follow the move. “It will weaken their companies’ stock.”

  “It will leave a power gap that you can step into.” Serge threw back the rest of his drink and placed the crystal glass on the table beside him.

  “That you can step into, too,” she told him. “The gap would be too large for one person to fill.”

  His movements were languorous as he climbed up off the sofa and closed the distance between them, coming to a halt in front of her.

  “How do you propose we find this missing scientist? And how can you be certain she isn’t already dead?”

  “Miriam is not the only one with sources.”

  His eyes were sharper than usual. “You have a mole in the smuggler’s organization. Or”—he laughed—“her mole is your mole, too. Don’t tell me you’re using this famous Broker, too.”

  Sandrine smiled at him, giving nothing away. Serge considered her for several long minutes before nodding to himself. Sandrine felt her heart jump and her mouth water at being one step closer to her goal. One step closer to ridding the world of Miriam Shepherd.

  “I always did fancy expanding into the Eastern Territory.” Serge rubbed his jaw as his eyes followed the line of her leg from ankle to thigh. “I’ve often felt that Ju-Long has grown tired of the region. He doesn’t manage it with the same enthusiasm he showed in his youth.”

  “That would leave me with the Northern Territory,” Sandrine wanted to clarify their agreement. There could be no haggling later.

  “I thought that was what you wanted, darling.”

  She smiled at him. It was no secret the Northern Territory was the most powerful.

  “Well, it seems we have an agreement,” Serge said. “How do you propose we seal this deal?”

  Sandrine uncrossed her legs and widened her knees. Her eyes on Serge, she grasped the fabric of her dress and inched it upward until she was exposed for his pleasure.

  His cheeks flushed and his eyes darkened. “Ms. Cherbourg, I like how you do business.” He fell to his knees in front of her. “You have yourself a partner.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “She isn’t a spy.”

  Friday barely stopped herself from sagging with relief at Striker’s confident declaration. In the short time she’d known him, his opinion of her had come to matter more than almost anything else.

  “Then explain her research specialty.” Mace glared at her. “And the fact she didn’t faint when you told her about our genetics. Or when you revealed your diamondback. Most people would have passed out at the sight. Not Friday—she took the whole thing in her stride. Almost as though she already knew about it. About us.”

  “She didn’t know about us.” Striker’s certainty made her eyes well up with tears. The reaction shocked her. She never cried. There wasn’t any point. Tears achieved nothing. “You didn’t see her in Scorpion Canyon. You didn’t see how freaked out and confused she was when the scorpions kept their distance.”

  “That doesn’t mean she didn’t know we were genetically different. All that means is she didn’t know about our effect on the scorpions in the canyon.”

  “What about her saving me from the mist? Explain that?” He shook his head as he pulled her closer. “She thought she was going to die. There’s no way she could have known we’d save her in time. We almost didn’t.”

  Mace stood suddenly, looming over them.

  Friday couldn’t help but shrink back, but she cleared her throat and faced her accuser. “I didn’t want to tell you about my area of expertise because I knew how it would come across.”

  He snorted his disbelief. And just like that, something snapped inside of her, filling her with anger instead of anxiety. She jumped to her feet and glared up at the overgrown ape.

  “You might think you understand the world you woke up in, but you don’t.” And she was going to give him an education he’d never forget. “You’ve done a great job adapting these past few years, but you still think like people from the last century. When you went to sleep, genetics and biotech were rare research areas. That isn’t the case now. It’s one of the most common scientific disciplines. And a big part of that specialization is research into genetic mutation caused by chemical bleed.

  “There are literally thousands of studies being done on the subject at any given time. Thousands. You think we wouldn’t study it? Half of the world’s population is walking around with implanted technology. The companies who make the implants have to know how they will affect the users. They use the research to develop solutions for genetic fallout. With each new generation of implant technology, they get closer to combating the bleed effect. This is common practice. Ask anyone. Call up your Doc person and get him to research the subject. Let him tell you how common my research area is.”

  “If it isn’t a big deal, why not come clean straightaway?” He took a threatening step toward her, and suddenly Striker was at her side. Protecting her. The thought was dizzying. People didn’t protect her, they sacrificed her.

  “Because, you big oaf, it took me about ten seconds to figure out you would jump to the wrong conclusion once you knew. I didn’t lie. I’ve never lied. I worked as a drone in a low-level lab. I worked on the basic biotech function of communication implants. That’s it. I was so far down the chain it’s laughable. But my academic study was in a different area. And if I could work in that area, I would. That’s why I was excited to study you lot. Excited about everyone but you. You need a different sort of study. Maybe you should contact a researcher who specializes in personality disorders and mental instability.”

  Striker barked out a laugh, pulling their attention to him. He stood beside them, arms folded, perfectly relaxed and obviously entertained. “You two about done bickering?” he said.

  It took a second for Friday to realize she’d been facing off with an angry warrior who was double her size. Probably not the wisest thing she’d ever done, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her now.

  “Not yet,” she told Striker before glaring back up at Mace. “As for my reaction to the news of your abilities. That’s just how I react. If you were looking for hysterics, you picked the wrong woman. I’ve been shocked and stunned more times in my life than I care to remember. If I’d fallen apart every single time, I’d have achieved nothing. I’d still be stuck in a group home in Houston, praying I’d die of neglect before I had to prostitute myself to survive.

  “So, no, I wasn’t shocked at Striker’s diamondback. I was thrilled. Thrilled that something exciting, something interesti
ng, had fallen into my path for a change. Thrilled that I might have a chance to do what I love to do, rather than what I have to do. Thrilled that there was a group of people out there who wanted and needed me, instead of people who barely tolerated my presence. But”—she poked him in the chest—“when I find out what your animal is, I’ll be sure to scream and faint, so you’ll feel properly appreciated.” She turned back to Striker. “We need to get going.”

  “Yeah, we do.” He reached out and clasped her nape. His eye was soft, and the smile was one she’d never seen before—she thought it might have been pride. In her. But that couldn’t be. No one ever felt something like that over her.

  He pressed a soft, sweet kiss to her lips before releasing her. Friday turned away, picked up her water bottle, hoping the men couldn’t see her eyes well up. Damn tears. She’d never been on the verge of crying so much as she had been since she’d met Striker. Or maybe it was just a side effect of the poison. She could only hope that’s what it was because she didn’t plan to turn into an emotional wreck anytime soon.

  “Friday?” Mace called, making her tense. His tone had softened, but you still couldn’t call it warm. “Jury’s still out.”

  She didn’t answer. He was kidding himself. The jury was definitely in, and it had already convicted her.

  “Let’s get going.” Striker picked up his daypack. “You ready?”

  She nodded and put some distance between her and Ape-man. They moved out in silence, walking across the rugged landscape toward the EMP barrier that indicated the border to the Coalition Countries.

  The silence didn’t bother Friday. It wasn’t like she’d spent a lot of time around people anyway. The men might think she was a talker, but she was normally alone. The only reason she’d been talking since meeting them was because she had too many questions that needed answering.

  They stopped now and then to replenish their fluids and energy with tepid water and dry nutrition bars. Friday actually craved the taste sensation of the spicy chili Mace had made, but she certainly wasn’t going to tell the man. As night fell, the glow of power from the pulsing EMP barrier lit up the distant sky. The barrier was made up of a set of tall poles that emitted pulses of electromagnetic energy contained in laser beams between them, effectively forming a wall that would overload any circuit passing through it. All Coalition Countries used EMP barriers on their borders. No implant ready chips were legally allowed into Coalition Countries, and anyone who already had implants had to apply for a special visa to cross the border. Even then they were closely monitored.

  As they walked up to the barrier, she noticed a concrete cube of a building on the other side of the glowing wall of light. Striker checked his wristwatch, another relic from his past.

  “Any time now,” he said.

  “Time for what?” It didn’t matter how much she wanted to keep the questions inside, they always found a way out.

  He gave her a knowing smile. “I was wondering how long you’d last before your curiosity overrode your stubborn streak. It’s been hours, I’m impressed.”

  “Not impressed enough to answer the question. What’s it time for, and how are we going to get past the barrier?”

  He jerked his head toward a man coming out of the concrete cube. “That’s how.”

  The man walked over to the barrier. Although he wore the uniform of a border official, he didn’t seem surprised to see them. The pulsing blue lights affected his skin tone, making him seem otherworldly.

  “Smurf effect,” Striker said, as though reading her mind.

  “What effect?”

  “We need to sit her down and let her watch some old movies,” Mace grumbled. “This is embarrassing.”

  “I’m touched,” she mocked. “It sounds like you’ve decided to let me stay, after all.”

  “Children,” Striker reprimanded. “Behave or you’ll get a time-out.”

  “Striker,” the guard shouted. “You got my payment?”

  He tapped his backpack. “Got it right here, Manny. Have I ever let you down?”

  The guard snorted. “There’s a first time for everything.” He held up his hand, pressed a remote, and the beams between the two nearest poles stopped, creating a door in the barrier.

  “Come on.” Striker nudged her through the gap, and it closed behind them. He handed a credit chip to the border guard. “There you go. The vehicle was delivered?”

  “It’s waiting in your usual spot.” The guy tucked the chip into his shirt pocket. “See you next time.”

  “Hasta luego, Manny.” He saluted the man, took Friday’s hand, and headed around the side of the building.

  “Well, that was disappointing.” She noted that there was only one vehicle in the cracked and desolate parking area—their ride.

  “Bébé, you’re through the EMP barrier. You should be ecstatic.”

  “Of course I’m pleased we made it past the border. I just thought we’d get through it in some magical way—like the way the scorpions keep away from you. Instead you bribed someone to open the barrier. Anybody could do that.”

  “Yeah, but it isn’t just anybody who could have come through the Red Zone first before they made it past the barrier. There’s a reason we can get through in this spot—nobody expects anyone to come in from the Red Zone. It wouldn’t be so easy to bribe a border agent at one of the main crossings, away from the mist. I’m beginning to think you take my abilities for granted. You’re becoming hard to impress, chère.” His sparkling eye told her he was teasing. Yet another type of interaction she’d never experienced before meeting this strange and delightful man.

  “Fix the seats, Mace,” Striker said. The hover vehicle was large, the type where you could rearrange the seating to suit yourself. “Give us a bench seat up front.”

  “Fine by me. I don’t want her behind me anyway.” He stuck his head through the door of the vehicle.

  Friday glared at this back. “Do we have to take him with us to Monterrey? Can’t he walk back to the caves? I’m sure he’d be happier there.”

  Striker shook his head and tugged her against him. She went willingly, reveling in the sensation. He was tactile, needing to touch, and she was desperate to be touched. It was as though her skin were a desert and he was some much-needed rain. She hadn’t been joking when she’d mentioned their team seemed like family. Just watching how they’d reacted with one another made her ache for everything she’d never had. She would have loved a family, any family, taking any form. What Striker and his team had was special, made even more so by the fact they’d been through a great deal to get there.

  “Are you two going to snuggle all the way to Monterrey?” Ape-man complained.

  “Yes.” She challenged him to do something about it.

  “You know, this must have been how my poor Maman felt when she had to referee between me an’ my sister. This sibling rivalry is getting old. How about the two of you give it a rest until we hit Monterrey.” Striker let her loose and threw his backpack into the car.

  Friday froze, struck dumb by the sibling comment. There was a desperate ache inside her, a longing for exactly that, a sibling to argue with.

  “Come on.” He tugged at her arm. “You need to get some sleep. Might as well do it in my arms while Mace drives. Unless you want to snuggle up with him instead.”

  “No!” Mace and Friday said at the same time, making Striker laugh again.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Friday slept deep, curled against Striker’s side on the seat between him and Mace. She became increasingly tired the closer they got to the deadline for taking the antidote. Already the poison was having an impact on her system. But she never complained. He stroked his hand down her side. She was like a little kitten, sheltering against him, trusting him in her sleep. Trusting him with her life.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing.” Mace’s voice was barely a whisper, but Striker still checked that Friday wasn’t disturbed by it before he answered.

  “You we
re rough on her.” There was more accusation in his tone than he would have normally used with his teammate. They were best friends for a reason. Striker trusted the man and his instincts with his life. His arms tightened around the woman curled against him. It seemed he didn’t trust them with Friday’s, though.

  “I don’t like coincidences.”

  They traveled on in silence, covering the miles slowly in the inky black night. The vehicle they’d ordered wasn’t the fastest on the planet, but it was quiet. Sometimes stealth was more important than speed.

  “For what it’s worth,” Mace said at last. “I think she’s telling the truth. I’ll just be a whole lot more comfortable having her around once she’s been implanted with a monitoring chip.”

  Striker smothered his wince at the thought of shackling Friday again. All she wanted was to be free.

  “You don’t like that plan.” Of course his best friend hadn’t missed his reaction.

  “I trust her.”

  He felt the enormous weight of the words as he said them. But they were true. A core of honor shone out from her. It was clear she was a victim of circumstance. And who better to understand that than a bunch of soldiers whose lives had changed because they’d had the misfortune to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  “My snake trusts her, too.”

  There was a snort of amusement. “Your snake has adopted her. I think your damn reptile sees her as his pet.”

  With a soft chuckle, he traced the dark circles under her eyes. Had they been there that morning? Was it another sign her body was slowly succumbing to the poison? He held her tighter, burying the surge of fear that followed the thought. He’d just found her. He didn’t want to lose her. Not when he’d lost so much already. No, he wanted to keep her with him and give her the life she desperately wanted. But he was dreaming. He was a criminal, stuck in a world he didn’t understand. If she stayed with him, she would never know freedom.