by Alison Aimes
“He knows his limits,” answered Ryker. “He might not like it, but he’ll stay back to protect the others—unless that no longer becomes a viable option.” In other words, if she and Ryker ended up dead.
She gave a brief nod. “Then let’s go take care of this problem and get to the cave.”
Because tensions and hurts aside, she trusted this man as she did no one else.
They rose in unison, his hand grasping her forearm as if she was his captive. She did her best to look reluctant and helpless, curling her body into itself.
Three figures stood over the next ridge of rocks, lasers at the ready, the protective wrappings around their faces and bodies making them look more beast than man.
“Where are the others?” The man in the middle spoke the instant they were close, suspicion making his beady eyes appear even narrower.
“Dead.” Ryker matched the gang member in tone. “Or scattered. I’ll need your help to round them up.” He dragged her closer to his side, his leer all too convincing as his hand covered her breast and squeezed. “Otherwise, this one here will be the only one left for us to play with.”
“No, please.” Acting her part, she trembled and whimpered. And planned exactly where she’d thrust her knife as the man on the right snickered.
“This one was slated for weapon testing? Seems a waste.” Beady eyes sucked on his front teeth. “Still, there’s a little time left to break her in before she’s ash. Not much, but some,” the guy chuckled, “especially if the boss’s weapon keeps breaking down.”
“Shut it, you moron, or 223 will shut that mouth permanently.” This command came from the younger man on the left. His rounded face might have given him a boyish air, except for the dark rotted teeth and the cruelty in his stare. “You know it was sabotage, not a design flaw, that slowed him down. He’ll get what he needs. He always does. Any asshole who doubts it can join the lab rats and test its effectiveness for themselves.”
The man on the right, the tallest and leanest of them all, still hadn’t spoken. Or moved.
Jade’s inner alarm blared.
“So, not too much longer then?” Ryker managed to sound excited rather than sickened.
“That’s right.” Rotted Teeth spoke again. “Which you’d know if you really were one of us.” His free hand lashed out, seizing her other arm and jerking her away from Ryker as he turned toward his colleagues. “You two do what you want with the big one, I’m going to interrogate the female and find out just who these two really are.”
Time had run out.
Thighs tensing, pretending to stumble, she let the bastard’s momentum carry her within striking distance.
Without warning, a shot rang out. The flare of heat at her side a shock as her body jerked in reaction. Then, another shot. The eyes of Rotted Teeth went wide.
The man crumpled to the ground, howling in agony.
Another blast and the guard on the right dropped to the ground, his eyes wide open and empty. Dead.
“What the fuck?” Ryker was already reaching for his ax.
“Keep those hands where I can see them.” It was the third man. The silent one. His weapon might be scented with the burn of recent use, but his hands were steady, his breathing even. “Or you’ll share the same fate as those other felons.” Gaze flickering just over her shoulder, he raised his voice. “That goes for anyone who thinks they’d like to play the hero. One wrong move and these two die.”
A message for Grif. Would he listen? The gang member on the ground screamed once more in agony, his hands clutching the large crater that had once been his stomach.
Jade’s gaze locked with the third man. “Why’d you shoot them?”
“I thought I would take care of them and save you the trouble.”
She waited. It didn’t take long.
“It is good to see you again, Jade Lakotesh.”
27
Jade didn’t even pretend to be surprised. She’d suspected the third man was like her from the moment he’d appeared. “Clearly, you have me at a disadvantage.”
“I doubt that.” The admiration in his tone was impossible to miss. Hand still steady on the laser, he reached up and unwrapped the fabric from his face.
Eerily perfect features stared back at her. Chiseled square jaw. Cheekbones so sharp they could have been carved from granite. Short brown hair to regulation length. Hazel eyes encased in a sheet of ice. All coupled with a lean, powerful body. His was a memorable enough form.
“Caleb Huntington.” An operative with almost as many successful missions as she, though his expertise lay more in engineering and hacking than combat. He’d trained at a different Facility, but they’d crossed paths on a number of jobs. Each time, he’d attempted to speak with her, bucking protocol. She’d never been interested. She wondered if his appearance now was a coincidence.
He gave a quick nod. “Plan B.” She scented a small whiff of bitterness in his admission, along with firm resolve. This was a man with something to prove.
“Who is this prisoner?” The operative’s chin jutted toward Ryker. “He has the stench—and the skin designs—of the Resistance.” His finger inched closer to the laser’s shooting mechanism.
“A friend.” When it became clear that would not suffice as an explanation, she interjected the barest hint of contempt into her tone. “Or that is what I’ve led him to believe. In truth, he’s a pawn. One I convinced to help me get close to 223 in exchange for his freedom.”
Ryker’s protest was silenced by the thrust of the laser toward his belly.
“I’m sure you were taught to use such tactics, same as me.” Seeking to regain the operative’s attention, she moved forward, hoping Ryker’s hotheadedness would not make itself known now. The faint whimpers of the gang member writhing on the ground was an all too vivid reminder of exactly what would happen if they didn’t play this right.
“A pawn,” echoed the operative. “Just like the two gang members I took down. Well done.” She knew she’d sold it well enough when the operative’s grip relaxed, smug amusement oozing from his pores.
But why should he doubt her? He’d been fed the same drivel as she about the inferiority of the planet’s inhabitants. Plus, he had the same nanotechnology counting down inside of him. The idea that she would somehow sabotage her own mission was likely impossible for him to fathom.
“What do you know of 223’s hideout?” Hope flickered through her. “Have you come from there?”
“Yes.” A small tightening at the edges of his lips suggested frustration, but it was wiped clear in the next instant. “I was closing in on 223’s inner circle and the opportunity to steal away with the weapon when I was chosen for this last assignment and could not refuse.”
“Take me to the hideout.”
He considered for a moment and then shrugged, almost as if trying on the gesture. “I accept your request.”
No wonder Ryker had called her a robot when they’d first met. If she’d been anything like this operative, she’d screamed out automaton. Was that why her felon had declared her unkeepable?
“The moment I learned it was you I was assigned to follow, I knew it was a sign.” The Council assassin was still speaking. “We were meant to join forces. Our employers need never know.”
She hid her surprise. Clearly, she wasn’t the only instrument of the Council who’d chafed under their isolating protocol. Before Dragath25, she really must have been sleepwalking through her life, so focused on the missions, she’d missed what was going on with the people around her. Until Ryker had awakened her.
The question was, just how far was the operative willing to go to defy Council orders?
As if to confirm her thoughts, Caleb’s gaze flickered to the dagger tattoo at her wrist. He had a similar one on his right wrist as well. “There are other things our employers need never know. Like the fact that their precious deactivation sequences are not as secure as they believe.”
“Are you saying you have the code sequence t
o deactivate our bombs?” Hope flickered through her. She’d heard rumors of operatives who’d retrieved their codes and escaped Council control, but she’d never come across one before.
“I’m saying I will make you a much better ally than this Resistance scum.” A heated look flared in Caleb’s gaze. “I am saying I have always wanted the opportunity to work together and prove myself to you. You will not be sorry if you align yourself with me.”
“But at what price?”
“Suspicion.” The operative gave a nod of approval. “As it should be. But you will see I am a worthy partner in the end.”
“What do you have in mind?”
A low rumble from the massive chest at her back indicated Ryker wasn’t happy. But it wasn’t as if they had a lot of choices.
Thankfully, the operative’s gaze remained locked on her. “I assume you intended to have this felon play your guard. Then, you’d mix with the other slaves to gain access to 223’s private work areas and steal the weapon. A wise ploy, but unfortunately unworkable.”
“Why?” It was hard to leave the issue of the sequence codes behind, but she could tell the operative had dangled as much bait as he intended. She would hear no more on this until she’d proven herself to be cooperative.
“All slaves not already in 223’s possession are being taken straight to nearby pens to await testing. No new ones are being allowed near the hideout.”
Likely because that’s exactly how she’d gotten so close to the weapon last time.
Catching 223 off guard would be even harder this time around.
Her gaze dropped to the writhing man still on the ground. “Were they correct? Is 223’s weapon close to working?”
“Yes. I assume it was you who conducted the initial vandalism?”
She gave a nod.
“A clever stopgap, but sadly not enough.”
“You’ve seen the gang leader up close,” she said. “Does he truly have it in him to destroy New Earth just to avenge himself on the Council?”
“Without hesitation,” answered Caleb. “He’s…unhinged.”
That said a lot coming the man with the flat, empty gaze holding a laser on her and Ryker.
“The Council’s pet has turned on them.”
“A miscalculation you and I will fix.” Satisfaction gleamed in the operative’s gaze. “Our chance to show our employers exactly how effective we are as a team.”
She hid a shudder. Had she ever been that cold? That blindly dedicated to a Council that deserved it not at all?
She knew better now.
“A good plan.” She advanced closer. Behind her, she could feel Ryker’s growing worry, but there was no choice. If the operative could lead her to 223’s hideout, she had to go without him. “If we hurry we may even be able to execute our assignment tonight.”
“Then we shall hurry.” The man started to turn, only to swivel back, his weapon rising to Ryker’s chest. “After I dispose of this one. Now that you have me, this Resistance pawn is irrelevant.”
She knew it was a test.
She knew she’d never have a better chance to retrieve her deactivation code.
She knew, too, that sacrificing one life so that hundreds of thousands of innocents might live was the rational choice.
But it was one she was no longer able to make. Not when that one life was Ryker’s.
“No.” She stepped in front her felon—only to feel herself wrenched back as the stubborn, protective fool tried to jerk her behind him, his protest louder than her own.
The operative’s icy gaze shifted between them, taking in every revealing small gesture, the barrel of the laser centering on her heart. “I knew it. You were playing me.” Disdain hardened the man’s square jaw. “You feel something for this scum. There were rumors you were flawed. I didn’t want to believe it, but you’ve gone soft.” He shook his head. “I was wrong to doubt our employers’ policies even for an instant. You would never make a useful ally.”
“Give us the fucking deactivate code,” snarled Ryker, “or this scum will ensure you experience pain like you never have before.”
She knew what he was doing. Purposely drawing Caleb’s attention back to him. She refused to allow it.
“I haven’t gone soft,” she told the operative. “I’ve learned what’s really going on. Our employers are not what they pretend to be and their objectives are not as moral as they suggest.”
“You have been brainwashed.”
Not too long ago, Ryker had accused her of the same thing, but she was more confident in her own choices now. “No, I have simply had my eyes opened.”
It might sometimes be painful to feel, but thanks to the misguided operative trying to convince her otherwise, she was realizing she would never choose to go back to the cold, logical world she’d occupied before. “You will come to learn what I have if you let yourself take in what is happening. If you take a moment to speak with the people here—”
“Felons? Murderers?” The man’s eyes filled with disappointment. “I have spent more time with these monsters than I would like. They are as despicable as our employers said. They care only about death and pain. We will be doing the world a great service when we wipe them from the universe.”
Janus hell, he wasn’t wrong in that respect. “223 and his gang are exactly as you say. But there are others here. Innocents. People who have been sent here unjustly. Children who have been used and abused by 223 and his gangs. They do not deserve to die.”
The operative’s near perfect features only hardened. “The betterment of all is most important. Sacrifices must sometimes be made.” His gaze flickered to her dagger tattoo. “I had hoped you would not be one of them, but that was a mistake. We are not meant to be a team, after all.”
Her heart beat fast. She was losing control of the situation.
She could feel Ryker tensing beside her. Could almost hear his mind at work, planning to launch himself forward. To protect her and the others at whatever cost.
“Run!” Without warning, Tyson shot up from behind the rocks.
Silver flashed from the opposite direction.
The operative’s weapon jerked in his hand. A shot rang out, green light flaring from his barrel even as he stumbled back, a blade imbedded in his thigh.
Grif. It had to be his handiwork. Even injured, his aim had been true.
“Father!” Melody’s screech of horror sliced through Jade.
“Stay down.” Ryker’s worry for the girls and Tyson sharpened his tone.
A similar flash of fear slowed her, too. The thought of Melody or her sister getting hit icing her veins. It was only the briefest of reactions, but it was enough.
By the time her foot snapped out to connect with the operative’s thigh, he was already beyond her reach.
Stumbling out of striking range, he jerked the blade from his thigh. “Traitor,” he snarled at her, blood tracking in a thick line down his thigh. “All you worked for, all those flawless missions, all that pain and sacrifice—thrown away. For what?”
“For people who deserve our help.”
“Weaknesses, weighing you down. Nothing more.”
“Not to us.” Ryker launched himself forward.
She did the same.
But their opponent was no fool. Injured, outnumbered, he followed his training. Rather than engaging, he turned and sprinted away, even his injury not enough to slow his desperate pace.
“I’ve got him.” Ryker bounded off in pursuit.
“Tyson?” It was illogical and foolish, but her feet refused to move until she knew.
“We’re okay.” Pain shadowed his words, but there was no hesitation in his voice.
“I’ll help him and the others—and deal with this piece of Dragath scum.” Grif hobbled forward, his grim stare locked on the barely breathing gang member at her feet. “You help Ryker.” His gaze found hers. “He needs you, Jade, in far more ways than he can fathom.”
She was off before he’d finished speakin
g.
Her heart slammed against her ribs as Ryker’s faint outline disappeared into the storm. Goodness. Redemption. Justice. Her felon had shown her all of that. And yes, he’d shown her pain, too. But look at all it had wrought.
Her concern for him and the others had cost her, dividing her attention and slowing her decision making. But that same kind of bond had saved them, too. Tyson had risked himself to distract the operative and prevent her and Ryker from being shot. Grif had put aside his injuries and helped as well.
It was proof that caring for others was both a strength and a weakness, a boon and a vulnerability, making what had once been black and white, now gray.
She’d been naïve to expect the formation of such ties to be simple. Nothing came easy. Especially what mattered most.
She ran faster.
28
Ryker pumped his legs, blinking past the blinding dust that slowed his steps and limited his visibility. He knew Jade couldn’t be far behind. Hell, with her speed, she’d likely overtake him soon.
That couldn’t happen.
He ran faster, cursing when the man he’d been gaining on suddenly disappeared from sight. He was getting that fucking deactivation code from the bastard—and the location of the hideout.
It took several long heartbeats for Ryker to reach the last sighting and comprehend the reason behind the man’s vanishing act. The bastard had ducked into a crack in the cliffside.
Shit. Ryker was so fucking done with tunnel systems. Open airy caves like the one where they’d stashed the others were fine, but these twisted, narrow, full-of-precarious-unexpected-shit mazes were a no. Especially given that, since his quarry had led him here, there was a good chance the guy had scoped it out previously and knew exactly what to avoid.
For Jade, though, he was discovering he’d do just about anything.
Sucking down a breath and twisting his body, he shoved his big-ass self through the small hole.
The sudden lack of pummeling wind was jarring. So was the quiet. He’d forgotten how silent such spaces could be. Weak light poured from the crack he’d used, but its reach wasn’t long. Beyond it, shadowy dark shapes loomed.