Dead and Damaged (The Endangered Series Book 2)

by S. L. Eaves

  She stops three feet from the bars, out of reach.

  “I think we share different definitions of the term ‘welcome party.’ Mine doesn’t include a firing squad.” My voice is so thick with sarcasm I can hardly articulate the words. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”

  “My name is Brixton. This is my base you’ve invaded.”

  I’m only pretending not to know who she is. I recognize her from the grainy black and white photographs the DIA in all its money and resources had managed to procure. Abrams beamed with pride when he produced them, like a fisherman boasting about his award-winning bass. “We caught her in action!” his tone had implied. They did not do her justice. She is much more terrifying in person. And humans don’t often send a chill up my spine.

  “Your base, huh? Well, I got to hand it to you, your security is top notch.”

  She laughs, “My men really did a number on you and your little group of renegades.”

  “They were government agents. Your actions will have severe consequences. We intended to come in quietly, passively. We used nonlethal ammo on your lab techs. Your men responded aggressively, did not even give us a chance to surrender. That bloodbath is on your hands and there will be severe repercussions.”

  Brixton looks bored, shakes her head. She knows I’m bluffing.

  “That may be partially true, though given your objectives and the fact that you were trespassing on private property without the proper warrants, I highly doubt there will be any repercussions. In fact, I know there won’t be any fallout from this. I don’t blame you for playing the only hand you’ve got. However, if you think for a second that there’s a task force gathering outside to pull off a rescue mission, the only person you’re fooling is yourself. There is no contingency plan. This was a suicide mission.”

  “From the start, apparently.” I resign. “It’s Owen, isn’t it? He’s your inside man.”

  Brixton gives a devious little smile. “Thanks for returning our black box.”

  That’s all the confirmation I need.

  “Why didn’t your men finish what they started, then?”

  She hesitates, chews on her lip. There’s something she’s not telling me and I have a feeling I’m not going to like whatever it is.

  “We’ll get to that…tell me what you know about this place.”

  I sigh and lean back against the cement, staring at the ceiling.

  “You can get everything you need from your double agent.”

  “I want to hear it from you. You have been privy to more intel.”

  “And if I don’t, you’ll what? Kill me? It’s a little late for that.”

  “We can do this the hard way if you insist. But your cooperation will…well…let’s just say I’d rather the two of us have a civilized conversation than be forced to perform my questioning in a less preferable environment.”

  “Opposed to this?” It’s my turn to laugh. I can’t think of any information I know that she doesn’t have access to through Owen. He was with us in Atlanta when we freed the scientists they were holding captive. I’m guessing Brixton gave us that one. It was too public; they were too exposed. No compound in the middle of nowhere to hide in…Maybe I hadn’t botched that mission as poorly as I’d thought… If Owen was feeding her our every move…

  Brixton clears her throat.

  I don’t think I know anything Owen doesn’t. I don’t think disclosing what I know will compromise the DIA any further. And I am too tired and weak to put up much of a fight.

  “Right, okay then, well, I doubt I really have more intel. Owen has been inside the agency much longer than I have. My orders were simply to infiltrate this compound, steal data and samples, take photos, and report back. Based on our findings we were then to assess the extent of the threat. We believe you have some people here detained against their will. But we needed proof to get a warrant. Or if our findings were considerably more serious, we were to take immediate action to dismantle your operations. “

  “Dismantle meaning…?”

  “What you think it does. I have authority to call in an air strike.”

  “I see. So I’m to believe you have no idea what is going on in here?”

  “We know you—or rather we know a PMC—has illegally obtained some experimental data from the DIA and counter-terrorist agencies in relation to weapons, drones, and other resources that could prove highly lethal if they ended up in the wrong hands. And we suspect you are running some rather ill-fated tests. We expected to find more of those black boxes along with other weapon prototypes.”

  I sit up, leaning back on my elbows for support. “I personally was not expecting you and your commandos to be human, at least not all of them.”

  Brixton nods. She seems disappointed.

  “I assume I just validated everything your mole already confirmed. I doubt I’ve given you any new or valuable information…it’s not like a government organization is going to trust someone like me—something like me—with anything worth repeating…so I ask again, why are you keeping me here? What do you want from me? You stated yourself this was a suicide mission. If you think you can hold me hostage, the DIA isn’t going to offer a ransom or a trade. They’ll deny my existence.”

  “I’m not planning to leverage you for money or anything else the DIA has to offer.” Brixton waves off the guards. They abruptly turn and head down the hall.

  When they are out of sight, she takes a phone from her pocket and taps the screen while looking up at the camera. Eventually the little red light blinks off. She checks that the others have gone dark, then directs her attention back to me.

  “The reason I let you live. Or—” she waves her hand at me, “whatever you call this. Is quite simple.”

  She walks up to the bars. I stiffen.

  “They’re electrified, Lori, but try if you must,” she smirks. I remain seated, hands bracing the edge of the slab.

  “Where was I? Right. I want you to turn me.”

  Brixton waits patiently for her request to settle in. Studies my reaction.

  “You’re serious? You want to be a vampire? Fangs, bloodlust, aversion to sunlight? All that.”

  “I want to be immortal. I want the power, the strength, the youth.”

  “You are romanticizing an infection that strips away humanity and infects its host, transforming its victim into something they don’t even recognize. Vampirism is not a cure for mortality, it’s a curse. You’re foolish if you think otherwise. And clearly, I am not immortal.”

  “Good; so you won’t have any problem turning me then. If it’s such a punishment, I would think you’d welcome the chance.”

  I regard her with hardened eyes. I know my limitations and I know I won’t make it another day without blood. I’m a few drops away from disintegration. I have to take her request seriously if I want any chance of ever making it out of this cell.

  She continues, “Vampires are not invincible, I realize that much, but you are powerful and you are infinitely more untouchable than a human…and you will be young for the remainder of your existence. You were what twenty when you were turned? Twenty-three? Couldn’t have been much older than that. And how old are you now? That’s a hell of a lot closer to immortality than I could ever accomplish in this form.”

  Brixton leans closer, her voice a whisper.

  “I’ve heard a little rumor about your abilities. Your friends in the agency like to talk.”

  I don’t react and she doesn’t wait for a response. “You saw my men earlier. Before the shield went down. I’ve been watching the camera footage over and over. And sure enough, seconds before the first shot is fired, you try to warn them.”

  “That was merely me catching a whiff of something putrid.”

  Brixton grins, “I need your blood, Lori. It will give me the power I need to complete my objectives.”

  “And I’m supposed to just go along with this plan of yours? You really expect me to be all, ‘Oh sure, no problem, let’s do this
’?”

  “Well no, not exactly. I had hoped to capture a comrade or two so we could arrange a sort of barter…but some of my soldiers are a little trigger-happy. They’ve been cooped up here for months without much to do for entertainment… “

  She tilts her head and slips a stiletto from the holster on her hip. I watch as she spins it in her hands before slicing open her finger. I try not to look at the blood. But I’m too weak to resist the urge and my eyes glow from the sensation.

  “So we improvise.”

  A drop hits the floor. I do not move. It takes every ounce of willpower.

  “I can help you make up your mind. Come on, you know you want a taste.”

  “I’ll pass, thanks,” I mutter dryly.

  “Fine then.” She licks the blood from her finger. “I’m offering you two choices. One involves slow agonizing torture continued indefinitely, simply because I can. Through transfusions, I can keep you alive for as long as I choose. Or option two, voluntary participation in which you turn me and I let you walk out of here of your own accord. We call a truce and part as neither friends nor enemies, strictly a business arrangement. Call it an exchange of services.”

  She shrugs. “I know which option my men hope you choose…Either way, Lori, you’re going to turn me. If I have to break your jaw to do it, so be it.”

  “That’s not how it works. I’m not even strong enough right now to turn you if I wanted to. And I do have to want to. There is no alternative; no science or technology can accomplish what I can do to you. But you already know that. I suspect that is something you’ve been trying very hard to figure out here in this fortress. Had the outcome been different you wouldn’t need me.”

  The anger fades from her eyes.

  “Sadly, yes, but it is just a matter of time before science catches up to God…which is why I need more time. That’s where you come in.”

  “You think God did this to me? That’s an interesting theory. What’s to keep you from staking me the minute after you’re turned?”

  “I have no ill will towards you; it’s not personal. I have no problem letting you walk out of here once I get what I want. But as it stands, you will have to take my word for it. Given what side of the bars you’re on right now, I’m afraid you don’t have much choice. But I assure you, your existence does not bother me. Once I’m turned, my mission is much greater than you…as long as you agree to a truce, I see no point in spilling more blood. Or ashes rather,” she smiles.

  “While I can tell a truce is a big step for you, I have no desire to be linked to you for eternity, which is what happens if I sire you.”

  “Then my men will be happy to relieve you of the burden, should you wish.”

  I stand and walk slowly to the bars, trying not to limp. This is in itself a huge feat.

  “Why don’t you come in here; I’ll be happy to show you first hand just what it’s like to be a vampire,” I hiss, eyes glowing, fangs on full display. “Or better yet, why don’t you send Owen in. I’d love to congratulate him on a successful backstabbing. Plus, I’ll need to build up my strength if I’m going to turn you.”

  If Brixton is caught off guard, she hides it well. She merely steps back, frowning.

  “Perhaps that can be arranged…I’ll consider your request while you consider mine. I can see I’m going to have to give you some incentive. Let that hunger inside you grow while the last drops of blood leave your body. Given some time to mull it over, I believe you’ll come to realize just how generous my proposal is.”

  There isn’t anything to consider. I have one move: agree to turn her, drain the life from her, and seal my fate in the process. Flushed with blood, I can maybe take out a handful of her men, but the likelihood of escaping the compound is slim to none. No doubt, Brixton is expecting this. She’ll be ready and there is no way she is going to let me live after I turn her. At least maybe I’ll get the chance to kill Owen. That would be a nice parting gift.

  Chapter 5

  “Well look at what we have here,” a familiar voice chimes.

  I open my eyes and crane my neck to see a ghost staring at me through the bars. Upon seeing her I lurch upright, ignoring the pain radiating through my body as I do.

  “Quinn?!”

  “In the flesh.”

  I blink, wiping blood from my eyes. Sure enough, there she stands: Quinn, the Argentinian spitfire. Her petite, wiry frame dances in the hallway, appearing as if she just came from a rave.

  “But how? What? Are you—”

  “No, you’re not hallucinating. But yeah, it’s a long story. Well, not so much as long as not the right time. Right now we gotta keep moving.”

  She glances around the corner to confirm the hallway is empty.

  “We? Moving isn’t really something I can do a whole lot of right now.”

  “Yeah, no kidding, you look like hell. Have to say I’m glad to see you’re still corporal.”

  “Ditto. What about the cameras?” I point to the one behind me, aimed menacingly in Quinn’s direction.

  “We have them on a looping feed. It’s temporary though, so like I said—”

  She—they?—were able to hack the cameras. Fucking Owen making it sound like such an impossible feat. He really screwed us.

  She reaches for the bars and I raise my hand in protest.

  “They’re electrified.”

  “You don’t say. The technology in this place is insane.”

  She pulls a device from her pocket. It is a short stick with prongs on either end. She presses it into the bars. There is a brief surge followed by fizzing.

  “That should do it.”

  She grabs two bars and pries them apart. I try to stand; it doesn’t go so well. I stagger and grip the edge of the slab for support.

  “You are one drop of blood away from being something they can clean up with a vacuum. They leave you in here to drain? Slow death type of thing?”

  I shake my head.

  “Their leader wants me to turn her.”

  “You’re kidding. That’s pretty twisted.”

  Quinn throws my arm around her neck and leads me out of the cell. Once we’ve slipped past the bars, Quinn leads us down the hall. I start to protest.

  “There are men everywhere. Do you have an escape plan?”

  “There’s a tunnel that leads out to a road roughly ten miles from here. They had it sealed off. We unsealed it.”

  “You keep saying ‘we.’”

  “Yes, I’ve got… associates.”

  “Quinn the stalwart rogue is now a team player?”

  “Hey, I played just fine with you and your little clan. Speaking of which, why am I saving your ass and not them? Have the tables turned? Are you the loner now?”

  “I’ve sorta been doing my own thing lately.”

  “Yeah, well, clearly you might want to rethink the rogue lifestyle.”

  I laugh. It hurts.

  We reach a closet and Quinn moves a row of filing cabinets to reveal an opening the size of a car tire in the wall. The room is still dusty from the blast.

  “I’m going to climb in, pull you through, then slide the cabinets back. Though it’ll be a while before they find it, I should think.”

  “How did you not alert them? This had to be loud.”

  “Most of the noise was confined to the tunnel side. Besides, have you seen anyone down here? They don’t waste manpower in the basement. It’s just storage rooms and jail cells. There are barely any cameras.”

  I can’t help but wonder why my team hadn’t discovered this option. The ground up here is frozen solid, so we hadn’t considered taking the time to drill a tunnel or that one might already exist. None of our intel had anything about an old tunnel…then again, Owen was the one who supplied the schematics. They must have sealed off the tunnel and charged him with keeping us from discovering it.

  Quinn grabs me under my arms and slides me through the opening. I cringe as the concrete scratches at what’s left of my skin.

 
“If we keep going at our current pace it’ll take hours to reach the exit. I carry you and we’ll be out of here in minutes.”

  I nod. “I hate being this useless. How did you know I was in here anyways?”

  “I didn’t. But someone did…”

  She grabs my legs and hoists me up onto her back.

  “Try not to get blood all over my jacket.”

  The tunnel opens into a snow-covered field; the wind whips snow in our faces as we emerge and I welcome the sting of it. It feels so good to be free of that place. I lie in the cold snow, packing it into my wounds as Quinn taps the screen of her phone.

  “Car will be here in a minute.”

  “They get Uber out here? Awesome.”

  “Funny. No, I have a wheelman with me. I instructed him to hide down the road a ways in case someone else besides me emerged from the tunnel.”

  “Anyone I know?” I wince as I try to turn to examine the wounds on my back.

  “Doubt it. But sounds like you’ve been getting around a lot lately, so can’t say I’d be surprised if you did…” She laughs, “Sorry, that came out way dirtier than I intended.”

  I smile. “You said someone knew I was here?”

  “I’ll get to that. I’ll explain everything, I promise. Let’s get out of here first.”

  “Works for me.” I look around; we’re miles from anything other than snow and trees. It is dark, but I don’t see a moon. It might be daytime. This time of year they only get a couple hours of daylight. Would work nicely for my lifestyle if I liked everything else that came with the darkness.

  Headlights appear.

  “There’s our ride. Road is up the hill a little, come on.”

  She pulls me to my feet.

  We reach the road just as the SUV arrives. It slows to a stop and Quinn opens the back door and pushes me in. I slide across the warm, soft leather seats.

  “Who is she? Where’s Nicholas?” A gruff voice from the front turns and eyes my pathetic state.

  Quinn jumps in the trunk and leans over the back seat.

  “No sign of Nicholas, sorry to say, but I still consider the rescue mission a success. Lori, meet Rex.”