“We’re about half an hour from the clinic,” Striker said. “We’ve got plenty of time to get you that antidote.”
His gaze stayed firmly on the road in front of him, his eyepatch in place to hide his snake from the world. It felt wrong. He was magnificent in his entirety, both halves making up a fascinating whole. None of it should have been hidden from the world.
“How do you do that?”
“Do what?” He skillfully negotiated the traffic to make sure they were never stuck waiting behind another driver.
“Know what I’m thinking.”
Oh, how she loved his smile. It was easy and charming, just like the man. “We’re attuned to each other. You’re thinking what I’m thinking. Plus”—his smile turned mischievous—“it’s usually written all over your face.”
“I thought I was good at projecting an expressionless demeanor.” For goodness sake, her life had depended on the ability.
“You are good at it. I guess you just relax more around me.” And didn’t he sound smug about it.
The flat road they were on suddenly dipped and curved to the right. She couldn’t help but gasp at the sight before them. They’d driven into a massive twinkling bowl, a valley filled with a billion multicolored stars.
“Pretty, eh?” he said.
The city had been built into a steep and narrow valley, spreading out and up the mountainsides. The result was mesmerizing in the dark. It felt like they were riding into a distant galaxy with swirling bright stars all around them.
“In the daytime, the mountain peaks are so close you can almost touch them.” His voice was low, gentle, intimate.
“I didn’t expect this, not after the flat area we just drove through.”
“The high plains. In my day, that was a different city called Altiplano. It grew to join with La Paz proper.”
“You were here a hundred years ago?”
His laugh was deep. A rich molasses. A decadent chocolate torte. A full-bodied wine.
“Now, that makes me feel old.” He steered the car down into the valley, where the buildings that had seemed like glittering fairy lights from a distance became tall skyscrapers up close. And yet, even above the tops of the highest buildings, there were still more lights to be seen on the sides of the mountains.
“It’s a serious question. Were you here before your sleep?”
“Yeah. Couple of friends and me, we came down here to South America to see the place. We visited all the Inca sites and did crazy shit like bungee jumping and caving.”
“Bungee jumping?”
“You stand on a bridge, they tie a thick elastic band around your ankles, then you jump off and bounce upside down until you stop, then someone lets you down.”
Friday’s jaw dropped. “Are you nuts?!”
“Yeah, maybe. Don’t think they do bungee jumping anymore.”
“I should think not.” What kind of idiot threw themselves off a bridge headfirst hoping a piece of elastic would save them? “You don’t do crazy things like that now, right?”
He gave her a hot look. “Bébé, my life is crazy enough without seeking that shit out.”
He had a point.
“Right, the clinic is round the next corner, at the end of the street.”
She could hardly breathe. They’d made it. Eighteen and a half hours before the deadline and they’d made it. Her whole body tingled in anticipation as their car turned into the clinic’s street.
And came to an immediate halt.
A police barricade blocked the road.
“Come on.” Striker parked illegally in a loading zone. “We’ll walk from here.”
“Is this normal?” She tried to keep her hands from trembling as she climbed out of the car.
“I dunno.” He took her hand and held it tight. “Let’s find out.”
Together, they walked toward the barricade.
The street was narrow, a testament to a city built in a different time, when cars were fewer. The road surface was new and looked out of place among the older buildings. Tall, narrow buildings that made her feel hemmed in, the lack of space compressing the anxiety growing inside her.
“What’s going on?” Striker called to the officer standing by the barricade.
He spoke Spanish, one of the world’s three official languages, the other two being English and Mandarin. Friday had learned all three as a child.
“Gas explosion. Several buildings have been damaged. There are many casualties. This area has been cordoned off for inspection. You need to leave at once.” He turned his back on them, uninterested in whether they followed his instructions or not.
“What buildings?” Friday called after him as a sinking feeling started in her stomach.
The officer gave her a stern look. “I said, move along.”
“Come on.” Striker tugged at her hand. “We won’t get any answers here.”
“Where are we going?” She trotted along beside him, struggling to keep up with his long stride.
“Up. We need an overview. See what’s happening and whether we can find a way in there.”
He pushed through the doors of an old hotel and approached the desk. Money changed hands, and the woman manning reception pointed them to the lifts. Once inside, Striker pressed the button for the top floor, and they sped upward. Friday wrapped her arms around her stomach. She couldn’t voice her fears, worried that if she did, they’d become reality.
“Hey.” Striker pulled her in against him. “It’s gonna be okay.”
She rubbed her cheek against the cool cotton of his shirt, feeling the firm muscle beneath it. “What if your spy found out where we were going and told CommTECH? What if this is just a way to smoke me out?”
“Then we deal with it.” His voice was calm. Even. Full of confidence. “And you weren’t supposed to know about the guy leaking information. I thought my conversation with Hunter was cryptic. Guess I need to be more careful in future, because you’re a hard woman to sneak something past.”
Future.
She wasn’t sure she had one.
The lift stopped, and the doors opened, letting them out into a nondescript corridor that was badly in need of a makeover. It was hard to tell the pattern on the faded wallpaper, and the carpet had worn bare in places. She followed Striker through the emergency door at the end of the corridor and up the concrete stairs to the roof. There was a one-way lock on the roof exit, and he made sure to prop the door open, lest it slam shut behind them and trap them on the roof. Together, silently, they crossed the flat expanse to look down into the street.
Striker stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders as they looked out over La Paz. It took a minute for her to understand what she was seeing. The explosion must have been huge, as several buildings were damaged. But the one in the center of the devastation, the one where the explosion occurred, was entirely gone. There was nothing but a pile of smoldering rubble where it once stood.
It wasn’t until she felt hands tighten on her shoulders that she forced herself to compare the scene before her to the map of the area she’d memorized in the car. Her knees went weak when she realized which building had been destroyed.
The clinic was gone.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The penthouse, New Amsterdam Hotel
New York City, Northern Territory
“I’m telling you,” Serge Abramovich said as he helped himself to some top-shelf Scotch. “Miriam knows we interfered. She knows we sent a team after the scientist.”
“She knows nothing.” Sandrine crossed her legs as she sat back in the corner of the sofa. Serge was wearisome. His lack of courage grated on her.
“You should have let me pick the team who went after the scientist. Yours obviously didn’t know what they were doing.” He sprawled in the armchair facing her, every inch of him screaming “entitled rich boy.”
“There was nothing wrong with my team.” She wasn’t entirely sure what had gone wrong—seeing as none of her men had made
it back to tell her. “Miriam’s team didn’t succeed, either. Last I heard, the scientist is still alive and on the run.”
Serge chuckled. “You haven’t heard the latest then.” He pointed at her with the glass, making the whiskey slosh about. “Friday Jones took Interferan-X. She’s hours from death and trying to get to the only clinic in South America that stocks the antidote. The thing is, Miriam beat her to it. She sent her pet ghoul to blow the building. The girl is dead. One way or another. The plan failed.”
Sandrine raised one perfectly groomed eyebrow. Now that information changed things. She wished she’d had it before she’d gone to the expense of sending a retrieval team after the scientist. The chances of anyone picking up the woman before she succumbed to the poison were minute. A wasted effort.
“That would have been useful information to have at the start of this plan.” She narrowed her eyes at the man. Had he held out on her?
He shrugged. “I only just found out myself. The same time as I found out Miriam suspects our interference. She isn’t pleased.”
Sandrine waved a dismissive hand. “Nothing pleases the great Miriam Shepherd.”
“Yes, but she’s particularly displeased that we intended to release the video and use it against her.”
“She can’t know that for certain.”
“She doesn’t need to, does she? Even if she suspects, it will cause problems for us.”
Sandrine was unfazed. “She can’t touch me.” There was nothing in her life that Miriam could use against her. She had no family. No friends. No pets. Nothing. There were no weak spots for her enemies to exploit.
There was a knock at the door. “Oui?” Sandrine called.
Her personal assistant poked her head in, blushing at the sight of Serge and making Sandrine wonder if this was yet another woman the man had bedded. She frowned at Angela. “What is it?”
She snapped her eyes from the Russian. “We have a problem, Madame President.”
“What problem?”
“May I?” Her assistant pointed to the screens covering one wall of the suite.
Sandrine nodded, and all Angela did was blink and send a mental command to the screens. A second later, several news channels filled the wall. They were all showing the same footage.
Sandrine shot to her feet, her hands on the hips of her exclusive designer dress. There was nothing she could do but stare in horror at the images of herself sitting behind her wide wooden desk. She knew exactly what she was looking at. A meeting she’d taken three years earlier when she’d first become president of her company. A meeting between her, the head of research at one of her companies, Jang Pharmaceutical, and Ju-Long Lee, CEO of Lee-Chan Medical. Ju-Long wasn’t in the frame. In fact, the camera angle betrayed him as the one who had filmed their meeting. And it was a damning meeting.
“I must insist that you listen, Madam President,” Leon Masters, the lead research scientist at Jang Pharmaceutical said.
“I am listening.” Sandrine stared at the man coldly. “And I disagree. The antiviral will go into production as planned.”
“But the side effects.” The man pointed to the data pad in his hand. “They can cause long-term damage. You have to see that the good the medication can do does not outweigh the possible repercussions of taking it. We need more time in the lab. With more research, I’m sure we can come up with a way to minimize the risks associated with taking the pills.”
“No.” She folded her hands on the desk. “We stick to the scheduled release date. You are free to continue your research, but the medication will still be launched as planned. The risks are negligible compared to the financial benefits. We’ve already advertised this medication. If we don’t release it on time, we will lose the confidence of our customers.”
“If you release it early you risk more than customer confidence. You risk lives!” The little man waved his arm so fervently that he knocked over a potted plant sitting on the corner of her desk.
His face turned purple as he looked at the mess.
Sandrine arched her eyebrow coolly. “We release as planned.” She stood and leaned over the desk toward him. “And do not forget you signed a confidentiality agreement.”
“No, Madam President, of course.” He backed away from her, eyes down, running for the door while Sandrine smiled smugly at his back.
“Our stock is plummeting,” Angela said, pulling her attention from the covertly recorded meeting.
Of course it was. Sandrine eyed Serge. At least he wasn’t crowing over her problems. “You have to excuse me. I need to head back to Australia. There’s some damage control that must be done.”
“Of course.” He nodded, placed the empty glass on the table beside him, and headed for the door, winking at Angela as he did so and making her blush like a teenage girl. Before he closed the door behind him, Serge looked back at Sandrine. “Still think Miriam doesn’t know about your plan?”
With that, he closed the door softly. Sandrine glared at her assistant. “Who released the file?”
There was no point in asking who’d filmed it. It had clearly been Ju-Long.
“We don’t know, Madam President.” Angela spoke to her feet. “But the location of the file was traced to New York.” She glanced up and swallowed hard. “To the CommTECH building.”
Sandrine clenched her teeth. It wasn’t conclusive evidence, but it was just enough of a hint to let her know who was behind the leaked video. It was a message. Pure and simple. Miriam Shepherd somehow knew about Sandrine’s interference, and by releasing this footage, she’d issued an order to cease and desist. Which Sandrine had no choice but to follow.
For now.
Chapter Thirty
No!
Striker staggered back a step at the sight before him.
NO!
Fires still smoldered among the rubble. Emergency services pulled bodies out of the mess. Nothing of the clinic remained. The antidote was gone.
Gone.
No. He gave a furious shake of his head. This couldn’t be their only option. He looked at his watch. They still had eighteen hours left. More than enough time to get to another clinic.
He spun to Friday. She was stunned reactionless again. Just as she had been when he’d first revealed his other nature. She stared blankly at the bombsite, her face expressionless. She didn’t move. She barely blinked, her big brain working overtime to process the disaster in front of her.
He stepped into her view, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Friday.”
No reaction. They didn’t have time for this. He growled low in his throat and pressed his lips savagely to hers, ending the kiss with a reprimanding bite on her bottom lip.
“That hurt.” Shaky fingers covered her lips as her dazed eyes morphed into glaring ones.
Better. That was better. “We need a backup option. Where’s the nearest clinic that stocks the Interferan-X antidote?”
She blinked up at him, and he saw the bleakness in her eyes. She was defeated, giving up. He wouldn’t allow it. Not now. Not ever. Not her.
“Where?” He squeezed her shoulders.
“Back in the Northern Territory.”
His stomach turned bitter at the words. “You’re telling me that there isn’t another clinic with the antidote in the whole of South America?”
“No. The poison was developed in the Northern Territory. They control it and the antidote—especially outside of the Territories. They’re worried it might be used as a weapon against them.”
“Fuck.” He wanted to roar. Rage. Pummel something. Anything.
His snake stirred from slumber.
What?
Friday’s in trouble.
Mine.
It was a definitive answer. Friday couldn’t be in trouble because she belonged to the diamondback, and he wouldn’t allow it. Striker understood his reasoning and, for once, they were in complete agreement.
“Where are the clinics in the U.S.? I mean, the Northern Territory?”
&nb
sp; “Houston, where I took the poison. New York and Seattle.”
“Good. Good. Okay.” He ran a hand over his smooth head. He could do this. There was still time. “If we get on a super jet, we can be in New York in seven hours.”
He flicked open his satellite phone as he pulled his trembling woman against his body. It was okay. Everything was going to be okay. He wouldn’t allow anything else.
“What’s up?” It was Hunter.
“Somebody blew up the clinic. We need super jet passage to New York. That’s where the nearest antidote is.”
He heard Hunter suck in a breath. “Enforcement behind the explosion?”
“I would say so. Have you started booking that passage?”
“You turn up in the Northern Territory, and Enforcement is going to be on you before you can get her to the clinic.”
“Do you see another choice?”
There was a pause. He could practically hear their tech guy think. “Maybe we can break into the New York clinic, steal the antidote, and bring it to you.”
“We looked into that when she first approached us. It isn’t an option. It would take weeks to plan and days to execute. The security around the antidote in the Northern Territory is tight.” He pressed a kiss to Friday’s hair. Her eyes were still pinned to the clinic. “This is our only option.”
He heard Hunter’s fingers move over his keyboard. “There’s a super jet flight leaving for New York in an hour.”
The tension in his shoulders loosened slightly. They could do this. It was possible. He’d worry about Enforcement later. The main thing was to keep Friday alive.
“I’ve got the two of you passage to New York under assumed identities. I’ll get Dominic to hack the system and change your bioscans. The new identity will come up when you’re scanned at the plane. It’s gonna cost a shit ton, dude.”
“I don’t care.” All that mattered was getting it done. Dominic, their hacker connection, was a genius who lived on the fringes of Territory society. He was weird as hell, talented and loyal. He’d get the job done. “Tell him I’ll bring him back some Inca Cola.” The guy was also addicted to sugar and caffeine, two things that were seriously restricted and monitored in the Territories, but not in Bolivia.
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