Project Terminal: Devil's Virus

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Project Terminal: Devil's Virus Page 4

by Starke, Olivia

He grunted and thrust his hips into her, shuddering in release. She collapsed against him. Fatigued, the last of her energy reserves spent, her eyelids wouldn’t remain open. Reed murmured something in her ear, but she didn’t quite catch it as she drifted off.

  When Max awoke it took several seconds to orient herself. She laid on the sofa she and Reed had shared, a sleeping bag covering her. Light streamed around the edges of the curtains and she wondered how long she’d slept. She shoved the makeshift blanket away and rose to collect her clothes and redress. Afterward she headed for the dining room. Reed sat in a dining chair, redressed, his long legs stretched out and a cup in his hand. The aroma of coffee perked her interest, and she zeroed in on the pot.

  “Help yourself,” he said, tilting his head in the percolator’s direction. “It’s fresh. I hope you still drink it black, we don’t have cream or sugar.”

  “This is perfect, thanks.” Max grabbed a cup and poured it full, taking a moment to inhale the strong brew. His gaze never left her while she kept her attention on the floor-to-ceiling window, not really seeing through it.

  “How are you feeling?” The husky tone of his voice made goose pimples break out over her skin.

  “Awake. How long did I sleep?”

  “Four hours.”

  She shot him a look. “Why did you let me sleep that long? I have work to do.”

  “Like I said, you’re no good to anyone if you can’t think straight.” His face remained impassive though his blue eyes were stormy. “We’ll head out to Strong Stock after nightfall.”

  “Okay.”

  They weren’t going to discuss making love. Actually sex, she couldn’t use the prior term when no emotion had been involved. None had been involved, not on her end…right?

  She sipped the coffee, trying to enjoy the taste, but the bitterness was too sharp. Her eyes were gritty and a headache had settled in her temples—not exactly post-coital bliss. She braced her hip on the dining table, brushing away dust on its top, giving her free hand something to do besides tremble.

  Reed closed his eyes. She took the opportunity to admire his features—a study of perfect symmetry. That’s what made males and females attractive to one another. It wasn’t the nose size or mouth structure, what drove reproduction forward was symmetry. Adam Reed had been blessed. High cheekbones, full lips, straight nose, and deep set eyes all in perfect balance. She understood his parentage to be a mix of French and German.

  “You keep staring at me like that and I might have to take you back to the couch.”

  She jumped at the rumble of his voice, and her cheeks flamed. “I-I’m sorry, I was lost in thought.”

  He opened his eyes, leveling his blue gaze on her. “About?”

  She swallowed. “The next few days,” she lied.

  He rubbed his palm over his cheek and took a drink of coffee before he set the empty cup aside. “We’ll get through it.”

  With Reed’s help, she believed they would.

  Chapter 6

  “I’m pretty sure we have your sister’s location. It took some digging, and pulling a few strings, but we’ve narrowed it down.”

  General seemed pleased with himself, and too smug for Doc’s taste. “Kudos to you for doing your job.”

  A quick narrowing of his eyes showed his aggravation, but she wasn’t impressed.

  “Give me her coordinates, and I’ll pay her a visit.”

  “There’s one hitch.” General grinned, and Doc had a sinking feeling.

  “What’s that?” Doc asked.

  “She’s found herself a companion.”

  Doc pinched the bridge of her nose and took a steadying breath. “Jesus, tell me Damian isn’t playing bodyguard to her too.”

  “Nope, not Gonsalves.”

  She tucked her hair behind her ears and waited.

  “Adam Reed.”

  Her face flushed hot. “You have to be fucking joking.”

  “’Fraid not.”

  A Marine sniper turned super soldier, the last thing she wanted to deal with. And Reed had religious conviction backing his decisions, making him twice as dangerous.

  “Just tell me where they are, General.”

  * * * *

  Strong Stock sat deep in a wildlife refuge. They took rough trails that even challenged the Jeep’s suspension then had to hike the rest of the way in. Using GPS, Max found the fallen trees. Beneath them, buried in the ground, was a metal safe. Inside would be Laura’s blood samples.

  Reed dipped the shovel into the earth, digging down three feet until he uncovered the container. She removed the plastic sheeting protecting the dial and entered the combination. Only she and Doug knew the numbers, and they’d die with her. The airtight safe wasn’t impenetrable, but at least it offered some protection.

  “Eureka,” she said, pulling out a canister. Cooled by liquid nitrogen, it kept the blood samples from deteriorating. She cradled it close, closing the door and replacing the plastic. Reed buried it, carefully smoothing out the ground until no sign of disturbance remained. Her heart thudded against her ribs, excited for the job ahead. Hope and optimism flared to life and she grasped on to it.

  As they drove back to the house, Reed seemed nervous. He kept glancing into the vehicle’s mirrors.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “I don’t know. Something doesn’t seem right.”

  She frowned and looked around. Other than a few deer no one watched. “You think someone knows where we are?”

  A muscle in his jaw worked. “I don’t see how, but I have this gut feeling we need to keep our eyes peeled.”

  She nibbled her bottom lip, the cold canister nipping her skin. “I think we’re both on edge. I’m sure we’re in the clear.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “A soldier has to trust their gut. It keeps you alive.”

  Nothing unusual appeared when they arrived back to the house and went inside. Reed moved from room to room, double checking windows and locks. His thoroughness made her nervous. She needed to focus on Laura’s blood and not worry about bad guys and monsters.

  She put a fresh pot of coffee on to perk and grabbed a box of granola bars Reed had brought. Her appetite was absent but she’d have to keep her blood sugar stable to get the most out of the hours to come. She finished off the bar in four bites and opened the canister. The cold air made gooseflesh break out over her arms as she withdrew the precious red vials which were more valuable than gold.

  A loud roar followed by a rattle jolted her. Reed returned from outside. “The generator’s running, you’re good to go.”

  Max tested the equipment. The centrifuge took up the top of a side table and microscopes sat on the dining table. All seemed operational, and she collected some glass slides and moved to where her other supplies were clustered. She needed to set up several slides with blood samples from Laura, the undead, and she’d need one more from a control subject. She dug inside the bag, producing a fresh needle and alcohol swab.

  “What are you doing?” Reed asked.

  “I need samples of my own blood.” She removed her belt and wrapped it around her upper arm, pulling it tight.

  Reed grimaced. “I don’t think I want to watch this.”

  Max smiled. “Better than med school when students draw blood from one another. I’m glad those days are over. I’d go home with arms covered in bruises, looking like a heroin addict.”

  Reed paled just before she poked the needle in, and he left her alone. She spent the rest of the night studying blood samples and taking notes. Nothing jumped out about Laura’s other than her high lymphocytes, understandable for someone who’d just suffered a major illness. She wished more than anything she had some way of seeing into Laura’s genetic code, where her secret immunity lay, but doing so would require much more sophisticated machines than she had access to.

  Three AM was on her before she knew it, and she removed her glasses. Her eyes watered and the headache had turned to a dull thud in
her forehead. She needed sleep again; the four hour nap hadn’t completely cleaned out the cobwebs in her brain. With regret, she shut down the equipment and marched to the living room, finding Reed stretched out on a sleeping bag. His chest rose and fell in the slow rhythm of sleep. He’d stripped out of his shirt, leaving him in only his jeans and boots. He nearly always slept in his boots, and she assumed it was a soldier thing. Max had the overpowering urge to lie next to him and curl up against his side with her head on his chest. Like the old days. Once, it’d been the only way she’d been able to sleep and it’d taken her months to get used to falling asleep alone.

  She kicked out of her shoes, wishing she’d brought a pair of PJs. She’d have to make do with her clothes. Her sleeping bag lay on the sofa and she curled up under it. She fell into oblivion within a minute.

  * * * *

  Three days passed and Max was high from exhaustion. A knock sounded on the door and Max’s heart dropped to her feet. Reed appeared in the dining room and placed a finger to his lips before he stalked toward the front door.

  A voice carried to her and Max thought she was hallucinating. She trotted out of the room to meet the visitor.

  “Marge?”

  Her twin sister stared back. “Max, how good to see you.”

  “I don’t know if she’s alone. Get back, Max,” Reed ordered, his face twisted into a scowl.

  “I’m not going to raid a house with my own sister inside,” Marge chastised, glaring back.

  “I don’t put a damn thing past you.”

  Marge rolled her eyes. “You’ve always been paranoid, Preacher.”

  “I’m cautious and not a blind jackass.”

  “Marge, why are you here?” Max asked, cutting in before things exploded. Her sister could be a hothead. “How did you know where to find me?”

  “Aren’t identical twins supposed to have some sort of psychic connection?” She folded her arms over her chest. “That’s what we’ll call it, a psychic link.”

  “Who’s with you, Doc?” Reed demanded, stepping in front of Max.

  “I’m here alone. Look behind me, do you see anyone else, Einstein? Aren’t you going to let me in?”

  “No.”

  “Yes, Marge.” Max pushed around Reed. “Come in. I want to know why you’re here.” She pulled Marge inside, ignoring Reed’s aggravated stare.

  Marge looked Reed up and down. “I can’t believe you’re shacking up with him again. Didn’t you learn your lesson the first time?”

  “Don’t change the subject.” It was Max’s turn to sound irritated.

  Marge lifted her hands. “Okay. I understand you have something that could be of use for the both of us.”

  “And that would be?”

  “Oh, don’t play dumb. You have Laura Swift’s blood samples. If we worked together, Max, we could do amazing things. Just think if no one else had to die in wars. Thousands would be saved with our combined research.”

  Max let out an exasperated sigh. “We’ve been down this road before. R1LN is not a weapon. It’s a horrible disease that has to be destroyed. I made a mistake, Marge, a horrific mistake in its creation.”

  “But if we harnessed it, made it work the way we want—”

  “It’s impossible to harness, it’s too virulent.” She wanted to shake some sense into her sister. “We can’t risk putting the entire world in danger because we want to fix what happened to our father.”

  Marge closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “We could spare families heartache. Why are you so fucking stubborn?”

  “We’ve already caused too much pain here. Look how many people have lost loved ones. I’m going to stop this.”

  “I’ve never been able to talk to you, Maxwell.”

  “And you’re reactionary, Marguerite. You never see the big picture.”

  “I see what’s right in front of me—a genius who won’t use the gift she has to make the world a better place.”

  “I think you need to go.” Max held the door open for her, disappointed with their confrontation, but not surprised. They’d never been close outside of sharing duplicated DNA, their only real bond.

  Marge shook her head and stepped toward the doorway.

  “Nope.” Reed grabbed her sister around the waist, covering her mouth with his hand. “I don’t know who you brought with you, Doc, but you’re our safety assurance.”

  Marge kicked out, but Reed dragged her through the house.

  “Wait, Reed.” Max gawked after him. “What are you doing?”

  Reed ignored the question and shoved her sister into the basement. He closed the door, locking her inside.

  “Damn it, what are you doing with my sister?”

  He strode to the front windows, peering behind the curtains. “Covering our asses.”

  Chapter 7

  “Seriously?” Max felt panicked. “If she had people with her they’d be inside by now after that stunt.”

  “And if they show up we’ll have leverage.” Reed moved to another set of glass. The front of the home was a wall of windows.

  “My sister isn’t leverage.” Max was torn between rescuing Marge, and relying on Reed’s instincts.

  “What?” Reed paused, turning to her. He folded his arms. “You really believe Doc wouldn’t turn against you in a heartbeat if it suited her needs?”

  “She’s my family.” Max couldn’t meet his gaze.

  “And she took advantage of you in Project Terminal then ran you out of the program.” He’d lowered his voice.

  The truth hurt as it always had. “We have different ideals. Our father died from gangrene after shrapnel did a number on his arm. It happened before we were born, and our mother never really recovered from his loss. She had a lot of bitterness.”

  Reed placed his hands on her shoulders, staring hard into her eyes. “You’re the better person, and if there’s one thing someone like Doc fears, it’s the person with right on their side.”

  Max exhaled a pent-up breath.

  Marge pounded on the door, demanding to be released. How could she hold her own sister hostage? Marge had always taken up for her when others bullied her in school. Though her sister could be just as cruel as a schoolyard punk.

  “She could be useful to us,” Reed said.

  Max’s shoulders drooped. “I don’t really see how. She’ll never help me work on the antidote.”

  Marge stopped pounding on the door, the silence echoing defeat for both Marge and Max. Reed was bullheaded, and getting him to surrender her sister would take an act of God. And she didn’t have solid ground to stand on in the argument.

  * * * *

  Adam paced the hallway. He didn’t know how Doc had found them nor did he have any idea who could be on the way to retrieve her. He shoved his fingers through his hair, working out every step they’d taken since he’d met Max at the old barn. Maybe Damian had been followed. Damn infantry, they had no idea how to avoid a tail. “Son of a bitch.”

  The afternoon wore on, everything remaining way too quiet. Doc hadn’t made a peep in hours, and Max worked in her lab, leaving him with no distraction other than worry. He checked and rechecked locks, stared out the windows for any sign of Doc’s rescue. It wasn’t until near dusk he heard the first vehicle. He moved to the window and watched a Humvee kicking up dust as it sped down the drive. Behind it several other military vehicles followed.

  He rushed to the lab. “Find cover.”

  Max’s forehead furrowed. “What?”

  “The cavalry has showed up for your sister.”

  Max ran to the window, her lips moving as she counted. “There are eight vehicles out there full of troops.” She turned to him with wide eyes. “What do we do?”

  “Stand our ground for now.”

  “Surely they know I won’t hurt my own sister.”

  “Yeah, but they don’t know what I’m capable of,” he muttered, looking outside.

  “You wouldn’t hurt her…would you?” Her voice wavered.


  He didn’t answer and headed back upstairs to a window overlooking the scene. The small army piled out, assault rifles at the ready. A menacing sight, but he’d faced down much worse in the Middle East.

  “What the hell do you want?” he yelled out the window.

  A man strode forward peering up to him. “We want Dr. Marguerite Straight.”

  “That’s a problem for me,” Reed called out. “I think she’ll be useful here. Who the hell are you?”

  From the distance he still managed to catch the man’s threatening look. “They call me General, and we won’t leave without her.”

  They were in a standoff. Two men marched forward and he realized they carried tear gas launchers. Thanks to his engineering, he could handle pain, but Max…

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Doc might get hurt.”

  “And the way I see it,” the man yelled, “it’s you against forty armed men. What do you think we’ll do once we take you out and get hold of Maxwell? I won’t say we’re a lawless bunch, but I can’t keep an eye on all my men.”

  Anger boiled hot in his veins and he had to take several steadying breaths. “Sweet talking me won’t get you anywhere, General.”

  “So what do you think? Hand over our doctor and you can keep yours? You have five minutes then we come in.”

  He wanted to punch the smug man in the face. He left the window and jogged downstairs, finding Max by the basement door.

  “Marge says they’ll come in with guns blazing if they have to.” Worry twisted her face into a grimace, and Adam hated to see her fear.

  “Yeah, I already caught on to that. We’ll give ’em what they want.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Don’t have much choice, and we’ll hope your sister’s loyalty will keep them from retaliating. If Doc has such thing.” He opened the door and grabbed the woman’s arm.

  “Ouch, you’re hurting me, Preacher.” Doc tried to pull away but he kept his grip.

  “Least of my concerns. Once I turn you out you get those men away from here. Otherwise you risk getting your sister killed, got me?” He stared into her face, her features an eerie mirror image of Max’s, though her eyes looked void of life. “If there’s any humanity left in you, you’ll control that mob outside.”

 

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