by Joni Hahn
Tugging on the cuff, she tried to squeeze her hand through the hole. “Is this really necessary?”
Stepping close, he towered over her, his body heat fogging her glasses. She took a deep breath and let it out.
“Yes. I don’t have time to chase after you.”
But, what if I let you catch me? “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“That’s a matter of opinion, Doctor, and frankly, yours doesn’t count.”
***
“You have her blindfolded and in handcuffs? Kinky, McCall.”
The female D.I.R.E. agent gave Dylan a heavy-lidded onceover as she passed him outside the D.I.R.E. security wing elevators, Teague Hamilton in tow.
She said, “Does Mitchell know you’re taking women to the security cells?”
Walking backwards, he called after her. “I have to use foolproof interrogation tactics. I’d like to run them past you to see what you think.”
Laughing, she shook her head.
“Actually, the blindfold was my idea,” Teague said, beside him. “It’s the only way I can keep from laughing.”
The agent stepped into the elevator. “Sounds like you have your work cut out for you, McCall.” The doors shut in front of her.
He wasted a glare on Teague. Despite the way her firm thighs had felt in his hands, he’d never bed one of Cyrus’s allies. Not even one this hot.
“Once you go red, you want nothing else in bed.” He ushered her to a vacant security cell down the hall.
Her voice rang of feigned innocence. “I don’t want bedbugs or cracker crumbs in my bed. Is that kind of the same thing?”
He gritted his teeth. Running his finger over a scanner beside the entrance, he waited for the clear, acrylic door to slide open. Escorting her inside, he whipped off her blindfold.
“Or,” she said, patting down her hair, “is that unless he’s blond, brunette, bald or gray…?”
He’d love to prove the foolishness of her words. If circumstances were different, he’d be all over that. Despite her haughtiness, she was one hot doctor.
“You’ll never know, will you, Doctor?”
Her eyes scanned him from the ground up. His body hardened.
“You can bet on it...” Teague looked around the sparse holding cell.
What the hell did she mean by that? He ought to seduce her just to prove she wasn’t as immune as she’d like him to believe.
Following her to the lone window, he admired her round backside in the seat of her skirt, her firm calf muscles flexing under smooth skin.
“Where am I?” She turned to face him, the cuffs giving little freedom for anything other than forced intimacy. Pale gray eyes stared at him through thick, dark lashes, the bridge of her small nose marked with indentions from the nose pads of her glasses. The bright, mid-May sun created a blue halo around her jet-black hair, her dark brows like slashes of ink against her fair skin.
Bracing a hand on the window frame, he planted the soles of his shoes against the tile floor. The air conditioner blew against his neck, emitting the scent of suntan lotion and sweat into the room.
“If I wanted you to know that, I wouldn’t have blindfolded you.”
Holding up her smudged glasses, she rubbed the lenses with the hem of her blouse. Her fingers were long, a blue vein extending across the top of her left hand.
“I went to Arizona State, McCall. I know the desert southwest. I want to know what building I’m standing in?”
The D.I.R.E. complex sat in isolation amongst the mountains north of Las Vegas. A world unto itself, it not only served as headquarters for the prestigious, international security agency, it also held housing for the agents stationed there.
The elevator dinged down the hall. Anticipation itched at his insides, knowing Mitchell would soon be there. If all went well, Teague Hamilton would give them an inside track on where to find the rest of Cyrus’s clones. Once they tracked them down and destroyed them, Dylan would do everything in his power to make sure Cyrus’s technology never saw the light of day again. He’d ensure the man spent a long life in solitary confinement and died a slow death - since the option to kill him was gone.
The door swished open. D.I.R.E. chief, Mitchell Jacobs, entered the cell, along with Clint Robinson, the agency’s lead scientist.
“Teague?” Clint’s eyes were big in his face.
A small smile blossomed over her pearl white teeth. “Clint?”
She rushed across the room, dragging Dylan with her. The scent of mountain laurels choked him, reminding him of home.
She worked for Cyrus. How could Clint treat her like a long lost friend?
Clint glared at the cuffs. “Take these off.”
Dylan gave him a hard stare. “She works for Matheson.”
“What is she going to do?” Clint said. “Take out all three of us?”
He knew she proved no physical threat. He just didn’t want to give her any kind of upper hand in this situation. As far as he was concerned, she was the enemy.
Mitchell said, “McCall, based on your video feed from this morning, I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”
Dylan frowned. What did he mean by that? Did he consider her – or him - nonthreatening? Either way, he didn’t like it.
He removed the cuffs with sluggish movements. “She has a signed employment contract from Cyrus in her bag.”
Clint stared at her with raised brows. Rubbing her bare wrists, she frowned at Dylan.
“And?” she said, lifting her chin. “The last time I checked, accepting a job offer wasn’t a crime.”
“It is if the offer is made by a criminal,” Dylan said.
Her steady eyes betrayed the note of surprise in her voice. “What do you mean?”
Mitchell walked toward her, folder in hand. “Dr. Hamilton, I’m Mitchell Jacobs, head of the D.I.R.E. Agency. You’ve met agent Dylan McCall and obviously, you know our lead scientist, Clint Robinson.”
She shook Mitchell’s hand before her gaze went back to Clint. “Why am I here?”
Mitchell said, “You work for Cyrus Matheson, an enemy of our agency.”
“Enemy?” she said, glancing between Mitchell and Clint. “What do you mean? What did he do?”
Clint crossed his arms over his chest. “Why’d you leave Capri’s lab, Teague? You’ve done some incredible things there.”
Looking down at the floor, she said, “I’m tired of having breakthroughs within reach, then yanked out from under me by pharmaceutical company lobbyists fighting DNA research. Cyrus Matheson offered me an open-ended financial resource to advance my genetic research.” She glanced at Mitchell before her gaze landed on Dylan. “It was a breath of fresh air.”
Giving her a patronizing smile, Dylan braced his hands on his hips. “Yeah, well, the only air he’s breathing now is stale.”
Her brows lowered into a frown. “What do you mean by that?”
Mitchell said, “Cyrus Matheson is in prison.”
Her shoulders slumped. “Prison? We exchanged emails a couple of weeks ago.”
Clint leaned a hip against the edge of a desk. “He’s been manipulating the genetic code for years, Teague. He kidnaps people with strengths he desires and uses their genetics as a base for creating clones with specific purposes. He’s built security personnel based on our agent, Riordan St. James.” He looked over at Dylan and grinned. “We’re still trying to figure out why the hell he kidnapped Dylan. Maybe he needed a court jester.”
She whipped around to look at him. He shot the bird at Clint.
“Cyrus kidnapped you?” she said.
Revenge blazed to life inside his chest. He hated thinking about. Hated the memories, the weakness and shame. The entire experience was a disgrace to him and his family’s proud military tradition. If his father knew what had really happened, he’d never consider him a real man worthy of respect.
“I spent months in a Mongolian prison where his people put me through certain tests to ascertain whether I h
ad what they wanted. Twice, I was sent to the Hawaiian island for DNA extraction.” Anger teamed with pride to tighten his jaw. “I made them fight for every freaking sample they took.”
Sympathy lined her grey eyes, angering him all the more. What would his father, or grandfather say to such weakness?
I’m not sure you have what it takes, Son. Why don’t you forget the military and make the farm your career?
Looking back, Dylan realized he’d taken a chance being on that island the last couple of days. Until he knew Cyrus had no help on the outside, he had to stay cautious.
Mitchell said, “We’ve confiscated his technology and brought it here to D.I.R.E. We can’t afford for it get into the wrong hands.”
She looked down her nose at Mitchell. “So, you’ve deemed yourselves the right hands?”
Tension filled the room like a hot air balloon. Not many people bucked Mitchell Jacobs’s system, and when they did, they learned real fast not to do it again.
“Right or wrong, we have it, Dr. Hamilton.” Mitchell’s steady gaze challenged her to prove otherwise. “We aren’t about to let it go.”
Her wide eyes sparked like flint rock. “You’re no better than the pharmaceutical companies, concerned only with your own agenda rather than the advancement of human health.”
“You’re damned right, we have our own agenda,” Dylan said. “Matheson made this personal. Not only did he kidnap me and Saint, a team of his clones orchestrated the attack on the beach that killed two of our agents. The one we brought back will give us answers. Trust me.”
She gasped. “The men on the beach were genetically-enhanced?”
Mitchell said, “The Oahu police department had orders to deter all traffic to the island. An inside source told us Matheson still had loyal informants in Hawaii who remained on-call, waiting for you to arrive.”
“You had no knowledge of that?” Dylan said, studying her.
Shaking her head, she squeezed her eyes shut. “Good God, no.”
“Teague,” Clint said, his voice low and solemn. “He’s infused them with a self-sacrificing loyalty. They will do whatever it takes to protect Cyrus and his interests - including sacrifice their lives.”
Dylan said, “We have no idea how many clones are out there, but you can be damned sure we’re going to do everything in our power to find them and destroy them.”
Tightening her fists, she turned to Mitchell. “Let me work with it.”
Lowering his arms, Dylan turned away with a bitter laugh. “You’re dreaming.”
Whipping around to face him, she said, “Why? Because you think I’m incapable – or corrupt?”
His eyes met hers across the room. “Use whatever word you want, sweetheart. Bottom line is, I don’t trust you.”
Sighing aloud, Mitchell motioned toward the bed. “Dr. Hamilton, please sit down.” Turning to Dylan, he pointed at the desk chair. “You too, McCall.”
Lowering onto the mattress, she pushed up her glasses and glared at Dylan, before turning to Mitchell.
“My credentials are impeccable,” she said. “Outside of Dr. Capri, you won’t find anyone more qualified to work with Matheson’s technology.”
Dylan barked out a cynical laugh. Of course, she’d say that.
“What?” She sat up straight, defiance ripe in her tone.
Mitchell held up a hand to halt Dylan’s reply. Dammit.
“I realize that, Dr. Hamilton,” Mitchell said. “According to your background check, I should have no reason to doubt you.”
She turned to Dylan with a smug smile, an eyebrow cocked over one eye.
“However,” he continued, “your agreement to work for Cyrus has made me skeptical.” He gave her a small, condescending smile. “I’m sure you understand.”
Dylan gave a slow nod. Finally, someone spoke some common sense.
“Well, then,” she said, on a gust of breath, “I’ll just be on my way.” Standing up, she pulled down the hem of her shirt.
Mitchell said, “I’m afraid I can’t let you leave, either.”
Dylan did a mental fist pump. Take that, sweetheart.
“You can’t hold me against my will. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
Holding up the file in his hand, Mitchell said, “I have orders from Homeland Security to hold you as long as I see fit.”
She pulled back her head. “Homeland Security? I thought you were a private agency.”
“I’m a former SEAL C.O., Dr. Hamilton. I have connections.” He tossed the file on the desk beside Dylan.
“I’m not a criminal…” She spoke through gritted teeth.
Clint’s composed voice broke into her tirade. “Teague, calm down. Just listen for a moment…”
She held up her hands in supplication. “I’ve had no part in Cyrus Matheson’s criminal machinations.”
“Teague,” Clint said, with a note of exasperation. “We want to give you a chance to prove us wrong.”
Dylan whipped around to look at Clint, his body tensing. “We do?”
Tilting her head, she stared at Mitchell with small eyes. “How?”
Mitchell said, “We believe the key to finding his clones lies in his genetic technology. Help us find that key.”
Dylan jumped up from the chair, disbelief slithering through his veins. “You can’t possibly mean-”
Mitchell held up another hand, before turning to Teague. “Dr. Hamilton, I want you to work for D.I.R.E.”
Chapter 2
“The position requires you to live here at Headquarters,” Mitchell said, his hands behind his back. “Any communication with the outside world would be monitored by our team until we deem you no threat.”
They saw her as a villain. A common criminal. They wanted to use her knowledge and steal her freedom.
Squeezing her eyes shut, Teague willed away the double vision that assaulted her. Sitting on the bed again, she took a deep, calming breath and let it out.
The effects of her multiple sclerosis usually hit her at stressful times and lasted for hours, if not days or weeks. With each episode, she wondered how much longer she could do her job.
Her dream of having a happy, healthy baby of her own grew more remote each day. With her family medical history and the symptoms of her MS, she didn’t have much time – or the resources - to figure out how to correct the imperfections in her code.
Dylan pointed at her. “No threat? She took a job with Matheson. Who accepts a job offer without researching the employer?”
She couldn’t deny Dylan’s logic. Desperation had rushed her decision to work for Cyrus Matheson. Though she suspected something sketchy about him, never in a million years would she have guessed he kidnapped people and cloned humans.
Her gaze swept over Dylan’s attractive form. He appeared different to her now, not a man of arrogance or conceit, but one immersed in a need for revenge. She proved a convenient target for his animosity until he destroyed Cyrus and his people.
That morning on the beach, he’d conducted himself with confidence, skill and quick thinking. If Matheson wanted to strengthen his security force, she could see the benefits of Dylan McCall.
“What do you think, Teague?” Clint said.
She bit her bottom lip. Orphaned by parents with poor health, she would be a fool not to use her knowledge to ensure any baby she conceived would live a long, healthy life.
Then, she wouldn’t be alone.
If she had access to the technology, she could work on her DNA while searching for the key to the clones. Once she found it, she would gain the agency’s trust and earn back her freedom.
What she also had to consider was this increasing attraction to Dylan McCall. The man was impossibly egotistical, but good God, was he beautiful. He didn’t trust her and would watch her every move. If he caught her working on her own agenda, she’d never get the opportunity to leave D.I.R.E. and find a sperm donor.
She had no choice.
Looking at Dylan, she said, “Gentlemen, you have yo
urselves a geneticist.”
***
“Did you get Dr. Hamilton?”
Cyrus watched Xander’s face as he escorted a clone into the solitary confinement cell. His new head of security excelled at his post, had been trained and created to protect him and his interests at all costs.
“No, sir. The D.I.R.E. Agency had a team on site and took her into custody.”
Anger flared his nostrils. Cyrus knew he’d always get the best out of Xander – his dominant genes assured it. Therefore, he had no need to scold or threaten. It would get him nowhere.
Pulling a prison guard uniform out of Xander’s bag, Cyrus changed out of his abhorrent orange jumpsuit and handed it to the clone. Every day spent in this filthy, smelly prison increased his anger. He’d requested solitary not only to make it easier to escape, but to get away from the body odor and hostility of the other inmates. Living without Keegan, his childhood sweetheart, proved hard enough in the real world. Surrounded by rage and violence, he hovered on the edges of sanity.
No more.
Xander held up a tablet that played the video of Dr. Hamilton’s rescue attempt. Not only had D.I.R.E. taken over his grandfather’s island and battled his team of security personnel, Dylan McCall had taken out several of them, and one of his choppers.
The footage reinforced why he’d used McCall’s DNA to help build his security team. In addition to loyalty and bravery, the man had astonishing dexterity and proved a quick thinker.
Based on how easily McCall had defeated his team, Cyrus needed to work on the genetic code and make them tougher. He had to bring his Altay Mountain testing facility into full operation.
He needed Teague Hamilton onsite.
Staring at the devastation Jaydan Rose and the D.I.R.E. Agency had caused to the island, Cyrus nursed the rage that bubbled inside him, allowing it to simmer on the surface. He’d formed his own, ideal domain on that island and they’d destroyed it.
So, he would destroy them.
Tucking his white shirt into dark trousers, Cyrus ran a hand over his whiskered jaw. Gads, he hated facial hair. He needed a hot shower, real food, and Keegan.
Another thing D.I.R.E. had taken from him.
Cyrus gave his clone a good onceover. Xander had missed no details with this one. He’d deprived him of sleep to ensure he had dark circles under his eyes, and had grown out his facial hair so the guards wouldn’t recognize his substitute.