by Marnee Blake
She shivered as she followed him out. He was right. They’d sat there, next to the lab, unaware…
“Great. Wonderful.”
…
A few minutes later, Luke threw open the security room door and scared the shit out of the nighttime guard, Jerry. His copy of In-Fisherman slipped to the floor, and as he leaned over to retrieve it, he addressed them. “Dr. Jenkins. Mr. Kincaid. You surprised me. What can I do for you?”
“Jerry, can you pull up the security tape from the lab outside Dr. Jenkins’s office?” Even as Luke asked, he noticed a few of Jerry’s monitors were off. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. Something wasn’t right.
“I’d love to, Mr. Kincaid, but the colonel stopped by a few hours ago and told me to bring them down for the night.”
“Colonel Martins? He came here to ask you to turn off the cameras?” Why would he do that when their base housed such dangerous substances and information?
“Sure did. Said that they were going to do maintenance on those circuits. Said you were doing it, Mr. Kincaid.”
“Me?” Why would he do basic security camera maintenance? His expertise was of the hacking variety and, more recently, hired muscle.
Jerry’s forehead creased. “Come to think of it, not sure why he didn’t just call. Important fellow like that probably didn’t need to walk over here. But, I follow orders. Did as he asked.”
Jerry was right. Martins wouldn’t have come down here. He wouldn’t even have had to call himself. He had underlings. And coincidentally deciding to perform maintenance at the exact same time as a break-in? Unlikely.
Luke rubbed the back of his neck. “So, there’s no security footage of the lab from tonight?”
“No. Not here.”
Luke cursed under his breath, and Jerry stiffened. Of course, there wasn’t. Even the greenest of thieves wouldn’t want to alert the authorities if they were breaking into a high security government facility.
And Parker and Jack weren’t amateurs.
Luke’s brow creased, his fingers digging into the back of Jerry’s chair. “Could you do me a different favor?”
“Absolutely,” he offered, obviously eager to make them happy.
“Can you pull up the security footage from this booth? What time did you say that Colonel Martins stopped by?”
The guard’s concern returned. “It was right after eight. I’d just gotten here.”
“Let’s start around eight, then.”
Jerry paused. He must have realized something was wrong, but he nodded. “Sure thing. Give me a moment.”
He turned back to the screens. In front of them, on the main monitor, the security booth came into view. In this footage, all the monitors were lit up. Jerry fast forwarded for a moment until Parker Sinclair stepped inside the booth.
“That’s not Colonel Martins,” Jerry commented needlessly.
Luke stilled, his heart picking up. There was no sound on the camera, he assumed, because he couldn’t hear anything. But though Parker didn’t open his mouth, Jerry turned to him and his lips began moving, as if he was talking animatedly, like he knew him. Parker’s eyes remained closed as Jerry nodded, smiling. Then, the guard turned back to the control panel, switched a few switches and pushed a few buttons. Three different monitors went dark.
On the screen, Jerry waved at Parker, and the older man backed out of the room.
“My God,” Beth breathed out, her hand over her mouth.
This had been the plan. Parker had taken down the monitors so they could clear out Beth’s lab undisturbed.
They hadn’t collected anything for the proprietary chemicals because they hadn’t planned to make their own. Stealing was much easier.
Luke couldn’t move. He wanted to feel anything. Surprise, fear, even the anger that bubbled so close to the surface. Right now, though, even that had abandoned him. All that was left was resignation.
Jerry shook his head, still staring at the screen. “I swear, it was Colonel Martins. I swear it.” The man sounded so lost. Luke couldn’t even work up any empathy.
“Of course, Jerry,” Beth soothed when Luke didn’t immediately say anything.
Her voice jolted Luke out of his self-recriminations. “He made you believe that,” he told the guard. “Don’t leave. We’ll need you. I’m sure Martins is going to have questions. And turn on those monitors, please.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Kincaid. And I’m sorry. I thought…”
“I know,” Luke repeated. He patted him on the back, pulling away quickly. He didn’t want to touch anyone right now.
To Beth, he asked, “Do you have your phone?”
“No. I forgot to grab it on my way out of the lab.”
She must have really been in a panic. Her phone was never more than five feet away.
“Jerry, could we use your phone?”
“Sure, Mr. Kincaid.”
“Call Martins,” he told Beth. “Let’s wake the rest of the team.” After she nodded and picked up the receiver, he asked Jerry, “Do you remember anything he said to you?”
“I don’t know.” His brow furrowed. “Just that you were doing the maintenance and that you were a good kid.”
“He specifically said I was doing the maintenance?”
“Yes. That’s what he said.” He pressed his middle finger against his eyebrow. “He said, ‘Luke Kincaid is doing the work, but I don’t think he can fix it. I’ll let him try.’” He smiled, like a student wanting approval. “That’s exactly what he said. ‘I’ll let him try.’”
Luke gritted his teeth so viciously, his jaw hurt. It was either that or scream, and he doubted Jerry would like that after what he’d been through.
Parker was sending him a message. Go ahead and try, but you can’t fix this.
He spun away, his fists flexing and his shoulders tense. He dropped his head, struggling to keep himself still when he wanted to lash out, to hit something, to break something.
This had been his greatest fear. He’d been waiting for Parker and Jack to outsmart them. As always, he’d been a step behind.
Bile crept up his throat, mixing with the bitterness in his mouth.
A hand rested on his shoulder, not too heavy but still firm enough to tell him that it was there.
Beth.
Like magic, the anger receded. Not entirely, but enough that he could focus. His gaze met hers, and it stabilized him.
“They must have broken in while everyone was out at the pharmaceutical break-in.” Her voice was soft, questioning. As if she were wondering if he had his shit together enough to help her.
Did he? Swallowing, he bit the inside of his cheek and discovered that he did.
Luke nodded. “While we were distracted. It was planned that way.”
“They’ll be ready by end of the week.” She paused, retrieving her hand.
“Yeah.” He sighed. “I know.” Ready to perform mass murder. “How much Solvimine could they make?”
Her eyes drifted over his head, and she muttered a bunch of things under her breath, science-related things, the sound of mental calculation. “Maybe, say, a hundred doses? Maybe.”
“With a fifty-percent mortality rate, that means fifty people die. Fifty people with families like mine.”
Her haunted gaze returned to his, and she reached out, gripping his forearm. “Yes.”
“This isn’t your fault.”
It was the truth—because this was his fault. He’d lived with Parker and Jack for months, and he hadn’t seen this coming.
Tonight’s events changed everything about how the army would manage Solvimine. The team had been gathering intel. On the ground, they’d been running down leads, trying to find out where Parker and Jack were. But that had been to bide time for Beth and her team to figure out how to counteract the drug.
Now, things would be different. In a few days, people would start dying, and they’d be on damage control.
“Maybe this isn’t my fault. But I assumed the chemicals
were safe here… I didn’t listen to you.” Her shoulders slumped, and she shook her head. “I’m so sorry. I won’t make that mistake again.”
He stopped walking. She braced herself, probably waiting for him to lash out. And it was true—he was wound tight.
But when he looked in her eyes, things inside him steadied. Like when she’d touched him earlier as he’d been about to fall apart. Taking her hand now, he squeezed her fingers, trying to offer her the same calm.
“They’re the criminals,” he gritted out. “Not you.” Her wide eyes searched his, and he wanted to be like her, still believing.
“This is a military base. Martins, Seth, and Nick… They shored up the security here. Our headquarters is underground, with cameras and guards on every floor…”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“It’s just… It seemed impossible.”
He could hear regret coursing through every word. Steeling himself against her guilt, his anger burst through him. Parker and Jack had done this, made her doubt herself, the same as they’d taught him to doubt himself.
Except, unlike him, she didn’t deserve that.
Apparently, he wasn’t as dead inside as he’d believed, because her pain reached him in a spot he’d thought had long withered. Stopping, he dropped his voice, stepping closer to her. “You need to listen. I swear to you, this isn’t your fault. It’s mine.”
She searched his face. That gaze… He gritted his teeth, glancing away, up to the ceiling, anywhere to avoid it. She trusted him. He didn’t deserve that.
Stepping back, he let her go, unable to continue touching her. “Nick, Seth, Martins… They’re military. They’re strategic, logical. That’s great sometimes, but for Parker and Jack? We need to think outside the box. They’re capable of anything. Everything. Assume nothing is impossible, because it isn’t. Not for them. Not for people like us.”
It was a warning, but not only about Parker or Jack. He was warning her about himself.
She studied him and he wondered how much she saw. Finally, her jaw tightened, and she hiked her chin up. “We’re going to stop them, Luke. We’re going to figure this out together. I promise.”
Shaking his head, he snorted. “I almost believe you.”
“You should.” She shrugged. “I’m a genius.”
Chapter Four
Jack Barnett stared at the invitation on the screen.
He’d proofed it a few times. God knew that English hadn’t been his best subject in high school. Or college. But no one wanted to look like a fool on the internet.
Not that his name would be attached to this. As far as the world was concerned, he and Parker were shadows, slipping in and out of the darkness like specters. He’d ceased to be a person who left his mark.
Or, maybe he’d stopped being a person who was proud of the mark he left.
The words on the monitor mocked him.
Opportunity! Become your best self!
Have you ever wanted to be a superhero? To make a difference? To REALLY have the kind of powers—real powers—to change your reality?
If you always wanted to be telekinetic, to run like Superman, or to read minds, this is your chance.
Join us.
The specifics of the meeting followed—all the who, what, when, and where crap. The invite ended with his best sales pitch.
If you’ve ever thought you were more than what you appeared, this is your chance to prove it. Don’t hesitate. This is your time.
If you’ve thought you were more than you appeared…
A lifetime ago, he’d wanted to prove his worth on the football field—was sure he would. Then he’d be on his way, off to the draft and out of shitty Glory, Colorado. He was supposed to start for USC last fall. After his change, he’d spent those football Saturdays in Mexico, hiding. He’d read the previews and critiques from the sportswriters who predicted how successful the USC season would be. His name had been mentioned amidst a haze of speculation. Where was he, what had happened to him?
Disappeared without a trace, they’d decided. God, that had been hard to read.
It had been harder when his name had faded from their write-ups entirely.
When Parker had insisted that this…change was part of a grander plan, Jack had swallowed that. He’d wanted to believe that he hadn’t lost his old life for nothing. That he hadn’t given up college football and the NFL draft to hide like a chump.
His little sisters had died, blood tracks on their innocent faces. They’d idolized Jack, and they’d been killed, collateral damage. He’d needed to believe there was a reason.
He’d clung to that like a lifeline. And he’d gone along with Parker.
Now, he was in too deep. Some of the things they’d done, there was no escape. Especially after what happened last night.
He’d stood by and watched while Parker killed that guard at the pharmaceutical company. And after tomorrow’s meeting, there would truly be no going back.
“That’s right, Jack. This is the way forward.” Parker cut in, and Jack closed his eyes. “You will see. I know you have doubts, but you will see.” As always, there was supreme confidence in his voice. He trusted what he said completely.
Jack allowed his brain to go to blank. He glanced at the invitation. “It’s ready.”
“Post it. We will see what we get tomorrow.” He said nothing else, retreating. Jack had learned that was how Parker operated. Give the command, expect immediate obedience.
He clicked the post button, and his words appeared on the forum. Dropping his gaze, he closed the lid on the laptop, unable to bear seeing them.
Outside his window, the DC skyline stretched before him. This hotel room was pure luxury. Since Parker figured out how to manipulate people’s thinking, they’d stayed in only the best accommodations.
He wondered sometimes if Parker manipulated him. It was possible. It might even be probable. He had to admit, he made an amazing henchman.
He sighed. He should be outraged by that, but he found he was only tired.
Tired of everything.
…
“It could be anything.” Steven Marks, Beth’s research assistant, slumped beside her, studying the list of components they believed were in Parker and Jack’s possession now. His button-down shirt was rolled at the sleeves, and his wire-rimmed glasses sat low on his nose. His features were drawn and weary.
Beth could relate. They’d spent all day running through the FBI’s database of chemical weapons, searching desperately to find what Sinclair and Barnett might be making with the extra components they’d stolen. So far, they’d found nothing conclusive. They hadn’t even found anything inconclusive.
Damn it.
“This is unacceptable.” She pushed back from the desk, tossing down the pad where she’d been compiling her notes. Standing, she paced, trying to work some of the agitation from her limbs. “There is an explanation. We just haven’t found it yet.”
It had been two days since her laboratory was ransacked. She hated it when she couldn’t figure out a puzzle, but this mystery put people’s lives in danger. The longer it took to unravel, the closer their enemies were to accomplishing their nefarious intentions.
After the burglary, Luke had insisted she wasn’t to blame, and she didn’t need all her IQ points to see who he thought should shoulder that burden. Well, too bad. This was her facility, and what happened here was her responsibility.
It wasn’t her fault that they’d broken in, but she still hadn’t figured out the scientific puzzle here, still couldn’t stop what they did next. Until that happened, she wasn’t going to rest.
Steven sighed. “I know. But we’ve got nothing. I can call in Norris and Matthews from the New York office. They might have some insight. Fresh set of eyes.”
Beth hated to admit she couldn’t solve this on her own, but she wasn’t arrogant enough to delay while she figured it out. “Do it. Get them here today. On the next flight.”
He nodded. “I�
��ll call right now.” Snapping his laptop closed, he shoved it into his messenger bag. With a swipe, he snagged his phone off the table and headed for her office, closer to the window, where there was better reception.
She stretched her back, rubbing her neck. Exhaustion pressed down on her, and she debated finding a couch somewhere to grab a catnap.
Problem was she hadn’t been able to sleep at Detrick since the break-in. She’d never had difficulty sleeping here before, but now she couldn’t relax, jumping at any sound and glancing over her shoulder. She’d spent the last two days here, though, trying to figure out what Sinclair and Barnett were planning.
She’d personally helped clean up the mess in the lab yesterday, hoping that if she put it back together, she’d dispel her unease.
Not so much.
Maybe she needed a walk. Maybe it would clear her head.
And coffee would help.
She tucked her phone into her pocket and hurried out of the lab. In the main room, a few people hunched over computers. There was a quiet hum of conversation, but no one paid any attention to her. In their company, she inhaled a full breath, filling her lungs and closing her eyes. Only then did she acknowledge her racing heart, the pounding of it loud in her ears, and her accelerated breathing.
These were the classic symptoms of an adrenaline, fight-or-flight reaction. A panic attack.
Around her, the others continued to work, oblivious. Her chest tightened further, stealing the air from her lungs. Lightheaded, she wrapped her arms around her stomach, striding toward the stairwell. If she could get upstairs, get outside, maybe she could get some oxygen inside her body again. By the time she hit the door to the stairwell, she was running. She shoved the door open and collided with a hard, male body.
The impact robbed her of the rest of her breath and dizziness took her. She lost her balance, tipping backward. Arms circled her. Trapped, she balled her fists, and she beat at her captor, pummeling the chest she was pressed against, the panic reducing her to instinct.