Her cheeks heated at her choice of words. She didn’t know how much more ‘stimulation’ she and Roman could have handled last night.
“Absolutely not.”
“Why?”
He leaned forward and placed his forearms on the desk. “Because we don’t know what they’re capable of.”
She fought to keep from rolling her eyes. “You’ve said yourself that they don’t seem to want to harm anyone. I’ve been alone with all of them, and nothing has happened to me.”
“You are never truly alone down there, Olivia. Keep that in mind.”
What had that meant? Had it been a veiled attempt to let her know that he knew of her time with Roman?
“Like I said, I’m aware of the security features in that area.”
“What if we let them out, they have their little powwow, and then overpower the guards? What if they get loose? It could be destructive to humans.”
What kind of bullshit reasoning was this? “With all due respect, sir, your argument is pretty weak consider they all were living among humans just a few days ago.”
His smile and pleasant façade had completely faded. He stared at her, his anger evident, yet his voice remained calm. “I will not put my people in any form of danger. Now you, get out of here and do the job you were hired to do. Find out where the rest of them are!”
She gazed at him a beat, but didn’t move. Roman’s words played back through her mind. They’re trying to get information out of us about the others so they can round them up and contain us all in one facility. They’re hoping with your skills, you can extract it.
“You have no intention of letting them go, of introducing them into our society, do you?”
He stood and crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you done questioning my motives, Ms. Waterhouse?”
It would take a lot more than him taking a dominating stance and glaring down at her to intimidate her. She been face-to-face with serial killers; she’d read and seen firsthand the horrific things humans were capable of. The Major’s alpha male routine didn’t faze her in the least bit.
“No, I’m not. I want to know the real reason this place exists and what your plans are for them. I want the damn truth!”
He stared at her a moment, his nostrils flaring, then sat back down, his voice low and hard. “We need to study them. They are far more advanced than us. I’ve read in your reports that one of them is almost sixteen hundred years old. Sixteen hundred years, Olivia, and look at him! None of them look a day over thirty. We have companies very interested in looking at their DNA, to see if we can somehow use it to prolong our own lives.”
Her stomach rolled at his words, and she absently placed her hand on her belly. She’d thought the same thing just days ago, but now, it disgusted her. “The Fountain of Youth must come at a pretty payday.”
He nodded. “This facility has the potential of making billions, and you’ll be getting some of that money. That’s billions, with a B.”
“I know what billions starts with.” And so does bastard.
What had she gotten herself into?
“Why am I here, then, Major? Why am I spending time with them, trying to get their trust, and writing out these reports to you?”
“We’re hoping they volunteer their DNA. The last facility forced them to, but we are trying it a different way.”
The only one she could see offering up a vein would be Eden. “And if they don’t volunteer?”
He shrugged. “Then we do what needs to be done.”
She fought the urge to reach across the desk and punch him in the face. “Anyone else interested in them for any other reason?”
He nodded. “We have others that want to study their eyes—perhaps it could lead to a cure for blindness, or maybe they see better than we do. I didn’t notice any of them wearing glasses—and that sixteen-hundred-year-old guy shouldn’t be seeing a damn thing. The military is also interested in improving night-vision. Imagine if we didn’t need the night vision goggles, but somehow, we could replicate the structure of theirs.”
“And you expect them to just offer up an eyeball for you to study?”
“No. That’s a few years down the road. We were hoping to condition them not to fight us, and all that starts with you and building their trust with your fancy psychology degree.”
Now, she stood and glared down at him, crossing her arms over her chest. She tried to keep her tone calm, but she could hear the anger as her voice shook with rage. “You brought me in here to gain the trust of someone you’re literally going to take apart piece by piece in the coming years?”
He narrowed his gaze at her for a moment, but said nothing.
She wouldn’t stand around and put up with this injustice. A quick plan formed in her mind. She’d leave here, go back to the FBI, and find someone to stop this nonsense. If needed, she’d go all the way to the damn White House and Congress. “I quit.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, really? And where do you think you’re going to go?”
His reaction surprised her and gave her a moment of pause, but she pressed forward. “I’m going to back to Virginia. I’ll talk to my boss, and once he see what you sick bastards are doing, he’ll put a stop to it.”
He slowly rose from his chair, narrowing his eyes, a small grin playing on his lips. “You listen to me. Do you really think you have a job after that stunt you pulled with your boss? The one where you took a case, even though it was a deep conflict of interest? Did you really think your boss would have some sympathy with you for trying to catch your sister’s murderer?”
Slowly, he walked around his desk. “Why do you think you’re here, Olivia? Because you’re better than everyone else—FBI or military? That your skills are so far superior?”
She raised her chin, trying not to let her uncertainty show. He now stood mere inches away from her, and she refused to look away.
“You’re here because you’re expendable. After what you did, the FBI didn’t want you anymore. We picked you up. We can do away with you because you have nowhere to go, no one to go to. You have no job; you have no home. We’ve pretty much erased you from the map, Olivia.
“Even that shithole you stayed in by the police station in Phoenix … your name has been eradicated from the records. You never lived there. You never existed there.”
A lump formed in her throat as she thought of Roman’s other claim—someone had beaten the hell out of him in that apartment. In reality, he’d probably just been sent to make sure no trace of her had been left behind. He’d found Roman, and cleared him out.
Her stomach churned as she realized Roman had told the truth.
“So, here’s the deal. If you want me to take you out into the desert and put a bullet in your head, I will. Or, if you want to fall in line and do your fucking job, then I won’t have to waste any ammo. I’m fine either way. It’s your choice.”
Her whole body trembled, and she hoped he couldn’t notice. Fear and rage rolled through her, but she knew she shouldn’t allow him to see the emotions. She needed space from this psychopath; she needed to think. However, she couldn’t slink off just yet.
“Is that a threat, Sherlock?”
A flicker of uncertainty crossed his face, and she fought a grin. She’d always addressed him as Major, and using his first name just showed him a veiled lack of respect.
“I don’t threaten. I make promises.”
She smirked. How original. “Well, then, I guess I better get back to work.”
Turning toward the door, she didn’t wait for him to respond. She purposefully kept her gait slow so he wouldn’t see he’d rattled her, even though she felt like running down the hall and screaming at the top of her lungs.
When she’d returned to her quarters, she allowed the tears of fury and fear to flow. God, she was so scared. Not only for herself, but for Roman, Eden, and Benedict.
She stretched out on the bed, her whole body trembling, and waited for the emotions to calm.
At some point in the very near future, she needed to come up with a plan to get them all out of there. But first, she had to get her wits about her.
Chapter 32
Blake watched Noah pace the War Room, baby Phoenix hanging in the carrier on his chest, fast asleep.
“This place doesn’t allow for any advantage of surprise. There’s not even a hill around it for miles.”
Hudson sighed. “Well, we can’t just storm the front door. We’d be dead before we even get to say hello.”
“Agreed.”
As he stared at the map of the area, he tried to think outside the box. How could they get in there?
It would be dangerous, especially when they really didn’t know what they would be walking into. He supposed there’d be some casualties, but that’s what Healers were for. Cohen would definitely be accompanying them on this mission, but would hang back waiting for the injured.
He just didn’t see a way to get the jump on the people inside. The place had been secured by being so exposed. They’d see the Warriors coming a mile away.
Noah stopped his pacing, deep in thought. Phoenix started to cry, a sound that grated on Blake and made him wanted to stab his eardrums with a pen.
“It’s okay, big guy,” Noah said, continuing his walk from one end of the War Room to the other.
Blake leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking loudly. “I think we should do some recon before we even come up with a plan for attack.”
“Agreed,” Cohen said. “We really need to get a better lay of the land. Although this image is good, things might look different on the ground, and it will give us a better idea of what we’re dealing with. We might see a plan of action if we’re actually there.”
Noah nodded. “Let’s do it. Hudson, Cohen, and Blake, you guys go. Don’t shoot anyone, don’t confront anyone, and don’t go all Rambo and decide to storm the place, okay?”
Blake didn’t know if it was a good idea to be talking about shooting people in front of Phoenix, but not his kid, not his problem.
“Go in heavily armed just in case you need to defend yourselves, but try to keep things on the down-low.”
Hudson cracked his knuckles. “Got it. We’ll go in, get out, and no one will even know we had been there.”
“That’s what I like to hear. I also want you guys there at night, so make sure to bring the night vision goggles, and wear your contacts. We’re done.”
Blake stood and left the room. He had a couple hours to kill before dinner, then they’d leave after that.
He meandered down to his quarters, hoping to find Sophia. They still hadn’t had the conversation, and it seemed now would be as good as time as any.
He opened the door, but found the room empty. Suddenly, a sound coming from the bathroom caught his ear—he recognized it as someone vomiting.
Worry coursed through him as he tapped on the door. “Sophia?”
“Yes.”
“Are you okay, honey?” Her sobs tore at his heart. “I’m coming in.”
When he didn’t hear an argument, he opened the door.
She sat on the floor, her back against the tub, with her arms hugging her knees, her face buried in them.
He knelt down beside her. “Honey, what’s going on? Are you sick?”
Lifting her head, she gazed up at him. She seemed so sad, her face pale.
It just ripped him up inside when Sophia didn’t feel well, which wasn’t very often. If he could, he’d take the illness on for her. “Should I get Cohen? Or Beverly?”
She shook her head and gave him a forlorn smile.
“How long have you been sick?”
She shrugged.
“Can I help you back into bed?”
She sobbed uncontrollably.
He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Honey, is it the flu? Something you ate?”
She took a deep breath, the tears streaming down her face. His heart threatened to break. The overwhelming urge to do something to help her gripped him, but she needed to tell him what he should do.
“What do you need me to do, Sophia? Do you want some water? Can I carry you to bed? Should I get some stomach medicine?”
She shook her head and smiled sadly. As she met his gaze, the worry and sadness in her eyes ripped him up on the inside, a thousand little knives cutting away at his guts.
“What can I do, baby?”
“Nothing, Blake. I’m pregnant.”
Chapter 33
Roman dropped to the floor and pounded out twenty push-ups with one hand, then twenty with the other. He rounded everything out with forty regular ones.
He felt like a caged animal ready to snap at his captors. The boredom had become too much for him to handle, and he again considered taking Olivia hostage the next time he saw her and using her to get out of here. He’d probably end up shot, but at least, he wouldn’t be sitting here waiting for something to happen any longer.
Last night had been a mistake, and both of them had known it. He’d told her to leave, but she’d refused. Hell, they’d never even used any protection during the sex, but he couldn’t say he regretted it as he was immune to human diseases, but then there was always the possibility of pregnancy. He tried to imagine a child with Olivia’s dark skin and his glowing, blue eyes. Frankly, the thought didn’t bother him, but he doubted that would be high on her list of things she wanted.
The door opening interrupted his thoughts, and he turned to see a soldier standing in the hall, a Beretta AS70 LMG in hand and pointed directly at him. Considering the weapon was a machine gun, he knew the guy meant business.
“Raise your hands.”
He did as told, and sighed. Here it started. His stomach rolled and he fought back vomiting. What would be first? A drill in his brain? A needle in his eye? A sample of his intestines?
“Come with me.”
As he approached the door, he heard scuffling in the hallway. When he stepped out, the solider told him to lace his hands on his head.
Five other people stood in the hallway, four with their backs to him. Based on the fact that two of them were dressed exactly like him, he guessed he would finally get a meet and greet with the others of his kind. Both had long, flowing black hair, but he couldn’t see their faces. Going by their builds, he guessed one female, one male, just as Olivia had said, but he didn’t recognize them. This relieved him, but then panicked him. Who were they? They simply weren’t of his race, or he’d know them … right? His planet had been wiped out—those who resided in the silo were the last of his kind … right? Two soldiers flanked them.
The guy standing in front of everyone started talking, and Roman knew on instinct he was the asshole running the facility.
“My name’s Major Holmes, and I’m in charge around here. I’ve been reading the reports submitted to me by Olivia, with whom you are all acquainted. It’s come to my attention that a couple of you aren’t cooperating with her, so I wanted to let you know that your collaboration with her is mandatory.”
He nodded to one of the soldiers who turned to the male and hit him in the gut with the butt of his machine gun.
Time seemed to move in slow motion after that. The female’s hair whipped around her face as she turned and screamed, then she tried to run over to help the male. Her guard wrapped his arm around her waist, keeping her in place. She continued to wail, tears streaming down her face as she yelled, begging them to stop the beating.
The male fell to his knees and they hit him again, this time in the face. As he fell backward, Roman caught a really good look at his features, and he gasped. He turned to the female, and realized hers were similar—in fact, almost a carbon copy of the male’s.
He took a step forward, instinctively wanting to help the male, and simply not believing what happened before his eyes. The business end of the gun in his spine caused him to stop and hiss, the sharp pain radiating up into his head.
“Move again, and I shoot you.”
He watched helplessly as the g
uard continued his assault on the male, a male he knew.
Looking at the screaming female again, and then back at the male who now lay in a fetal position on the floor, his blood boiled with rage. Yes, he knew their faces, knew them well. He’d seen that same face daily for a few months now. The two before him had just slightly different features, but there wouldn’t be any doubt in his mind.
He was staring at Hudson’s children.
Olivia walked into the Control Room, hoping to find Beth. Another soldier turned to her when she entered. She’d seen him around, but she couldn’t recall his name.
“I’m sorry, I was looking for Beth.”
“She’s not here. She’s on later tonight.”
He looked back to the screen, and her gaze followed his. When she realized what she was seeing, anger and horror raced through her and she began to tremble as her mouth went dry.
Roman, Benedict, and Eden, along with the Major and a couple of guards, all stood together in the hallway area in between the cells. It looked as if the Major addressed them, but then one of the guards hit Benedict with his gun, and Eden started screaming.
She lifted her hand to her mouth as the security guard in the Control Room turned up the volume.
Eden’s cries echoed around the room, as did the thumps of Benedict’s flesh being beaten first with the butt of a gun, then with fists and feet.
Roman moved as if he tried to help Benedict, but then the security guard behind him slammed his gun into his spine. His back bowed, and a look of sheer pain overcame his features.
He stood helpless watching the mêlée, but she could see he knew he’d end up dead if he tried to assist Benedict.
Eden hit and kicked at the guard holding her, tears streaming down her face as she powerlessly watched Benedict take blow after blow. After a few moments, she sank to the floor in a heap of tears, the guard pointing his gun directly at her head. The Major stood there with his hands laced behind his back, a small, satisfied smile on his face.
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