Redaction: Dark Hope Part III

by Linda Andrews

  He froze. “Why were you taking them before?”

  “Acne when I was younger.” Audra’s fingers dug into the pillow. Goodness couldn’t the man make it easy on her? He had to know what she was asking. “Then later for their intended purpose.”

  “So if you stop taking them, I could wake up next to the Zit Princess?”

  Zit Princess! She smacked him upside the head with the pillow. Couldn’t the man be serious?

  “Ow! Ow! I give. I give.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pinned her to the cot.

  The pillow dropped to the floor. Much better. She kneaded his shoulders. Maybe one day, they wouldn’t have all their serious conversations lying in bed. She wiggled under his weight. Although there were certain benefits.

  He palmed her hip, stilling her. “None of that now, I have to get to work. What are you really saying, Audra?”

  “I want your baby.”

  His black eyes locked with hers. For a moment, he didn’t move. “Why?”

  Dang. He really wasn’t going to make this easy on her. “Because I love you.”

  He sat up, set her aside and tugged on his boots. “Because you’re afraid.”

  “Of losing you. Yes. But it’s more than that.” Much more. Didn’t he see that? Wasn’t it obvious?

  “What happened yesterday won’t happen again.” He jerked on his laces.

  Audra waved away his words. He couldn’t promise that. His work was hazardous, but even schoolteachers weren’t safe. Safety was an illusion. She knew that now. Just as she knew he couldn’t protect her every second. The nightmares about her kidnapping in Payson would haunt her until the day she died. So would yesterday’s explosion and mugging. “I want to start thinking about our future, planning for our future. Together.”

  “We’ve known each other for eight months, right?” He pushed off the bed. “And during most of that, you only started looking at me as a man in the last two. Yet, now, you’re telling me you want a baby.”

  “That’s not fair.” Foil crumpled in her hands. “You didn’t even flirt with me until two months ago.”

  Eddie rolled his eyes. “Keep telling yourself that and one of us might believe it.”

  “How was I supposed to know you were interested if you didn’t say so?”

  “We come from different worlds, Princess.”

  Ooh, he was doing it again. Audra kicked him in the shin. Her toe popped when her sneaker collapsed on impact. “There’s only one world left, Prince Charming.” She opened her arms to embrace their section of the cave. “This one.”

  “You’re going to hurt yourself if you do that again.”

  “I’m going to hurt you.” And a kick in the shins was the most lady-like attack in her arsenal. Audra blew her bangs out of her face. Maybe she was going at this the wrong way. “Look, if you’re not interested in something long term—”

  “Shut up.”

  Her mouth opened. “Did you just tell me to shut up?”

  He grabbed his jacket and stuffed his arms through the sleeves.

  “Edward Buchanan! Did you just tell me to shut up?”

  “It’s Eddie. I’ve never been an Edward, just an Eddie. Eddie the ex-con, the buttcannon.”

  She folded her arms across her chest. They’d been down this road before. Heavens, he liked to bring up the nastiest business in his past to keep them apart. “Eddie, the asshole.”

  He blinked. “Did you just swear?”

  “Oh, no! Princess Perfect’s tiara is tarnished.” The thought knocked the air from her lungs. Lord Almighty, what if he was only attracted to her because he thought she was perfect? No. No. They’d had plenty of fights before. “I can say fuck. I can say sh—”

  He slapped his hand over her mouth. “God, you’re such a troublemaker.”

  She nipped his palm.

  He dropped his hand.

  “Neither of us is perfect.” She fixed his collar. “But I think we might just be perfect for each other. And we’ll make pretty good parents.” She jerked her head to the rows of cots in their room. “We already are actually.”

  “They’re all be equally scarred.”

  “They know we’re doing the best we can.” She kissed his cheek, lingered on the freshly shaven skin of his jaw.

  His breath stirred the hair at her nape. “Finish the pills, Audra.”

  Oh, Lord. He didn’t want her. Didn’t want her to have his baby. She pushed him back. “Fine. I’ll just do that.”

  “We’ll talk about it again in…” he peered over her shoulder, “two weeks.”

  Good grief, the man could be such a jerk. She raked the package off the bed and jabbed her nail through the foil. She rolled the pill between her thumb and index finger before popping it into her mouth. It stuck to her tongue for a moment before she worked up enough saliva to swallow it. Gah, she should have waited until water was nearby.

  “Now, let’s talk about those marks on your neck.” Eddie caught her chin, angling her head so he could look at her neck.

  “My necklace got caught on something.” She tried to jerk free, but he tightened his grip.

  “Yep, and the cord broke.” He stroked callused fingers down her neck. “I got that from the bruising.”

  Perspiration dampened her palms. He knew. How could he know? Had Tina told him about the mugging? No, she wouldn’t. Eddie was very protective of her. “I…”

  “Where is the crystal? I’ll fix it for you.”

  She wiped her hands on her pants. “I, uh, think I left it at school.”

  Heat blazed through her cheeks. She was such a bad liar.

  His eyes narrowed and a muscle ticked in his jaw. “Someone took it. Ripped it off your neck.”

  “I’m sure—”

  He kissed her hard on the mouth. “I’m sure that if anyone so much as breathes onion breath on you, you will tell me, got it?”

  “Eddie.”

  “Got it?” He shook her.

  “Yes, of course.” Oh, dear. She clutched at his arms but couldn’t grip his hard muscles. “But you can’t answer violence with violence.”

  “Watch me.” With that, he turned and sprinted from the room.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Tell me you have something good to report, Dawson.”

  Stepping inside Electrolysis Machine room three, David squared his shoulders. He was about to have his ass handed to him. And damn if he didn’t deserve it. The smell of charred human teased his nostrils. Maybe Forrest wouldn’t have died if he’d been better at investigating. “No, Sir.”

  Lister left teeth marks on the earpiece of his readers. “You ain’t going to report or what you’re reporting isn’t good?”

  “My leads haven’t panned out.” Yet. But they would, he’d make sure of it. “I have nothing to report.”

  “You’re making me damn sorry I saved your ass, Dawson.” Lister stuck his face into David’s. The skin over the general’s left eye twitched. “And if I’m sorry, do you know what that’s going to make you?”

  David swallowed and glued his tongue to his teeth. He was pretty sure the next words out of Lister’s mouth would be psychically impossible. Not that the Marine wouldn’t try. Or have fun doing it.

  “Sergeant-Major.”

  Fabric rustled behind him. His back-up had arrived.

  Lister backed up a step. His earpiece was bent into an L-shape. “This is supposed to be a deep-cover investigation, Dawson, not a fucking party.”

  David nodded. The deep-cover operation wasn’t working. Not that he’d tell his superior officer. He’d have to think of a way to get the general to think the change was his idea. David turned to the newcomers. “Papa Rose. Falcon.”

  With his back to the room, Falcon leaned against the metal doorjamb. His hand rested on the knife at his hip and the butt of a gun was outlined by his T-shirt. He didn’t acknowledge the greeting.

  Papa Rose’s gaze flicked from David to Lister and raised the tablet in his hand. “I have the list of possibl
es for you.”

  David jerked his head in the general’s direction.

  Lister grabbed it and jammed his glasses onto his nose. The screen’s blue light deepened the crags on the officer’s face. “Bat-shit crazy. Blames military for death of loved ones. Know-it-alls. Elitists. Zealots. Leader with possible God-complex. What the fuck is this?”

  “Our profile of the terrorist group responsible for blowing up the atom splitter.” Falcon pulled the knife from his pocket and trimmed his nails.

  “You two are natural born profilers.” Lister’s lips thinned and he shoved the tablet into David’s gut. “Damn, with you two at the helm, we could have rounded up every nut job in a matter of millennia.”

  God, the man could be such an ass. David flicked the screen. A spreadsheet popped up. Names appeared down the side all but one lived in Sector Seven. Red, blue, yellow and green highlighted certain names. “What do the colors indicate?”

  “Amateur hour?” Lister snapped.

  “Potential cell members.” Papa Rose tapped on a color. The screen shifted to a role call and duty roster. “Red indicates day shift, blue second shift and yellow graves.”

  Green marked Dirk Benedict’s name at the top.

  “Green is leadership.” David scanned the list. Kevin’s and Nancy Adler’s were also highlighted. Only Jake Turner’s name remained clear. Did they not think the man was involved? Hadn’t they heard him calling for elections?

  “Yes.” Falcon sheathed his knife. “They each are assigned to different shifts.”

  Papa Rose scratched his head. “We were hoping Eddie could help weed out some names.”

  “Buchanan?” David eyed the doorway. The new atom splitter technician was supposed to be here.

  “The same.” Papa Rose nodded. “The guy knows these tunnels inside and out. Plus, most people don’t think twice about talking around him.”

  “Unless they can smell him.” Falcon chuckled.

  “You already talk to Eddie?”

  David shook his head. “He hasn’t arrived yet.” His attention drifted to the clock in the corner of the computer screen. Quarter after six. Fifteen minutes late. “Did you tell him to meet me here?”

  “Hell, yes.” Papa Rose stuffed his hands in his pocket. “He’s determined to help find whoever tried to kill him.”

  “Or who set him up.” The timing couldn’t be a coincidence any more than the dead chicken on Mavis’s desk.

  “Not bad.” Lister nearly smiled. “Of course Quartermain isn’t on there. Have you ruled the boy out?”

  “Not yet.” David couldn’t locate the kid. He’d looked in all the usual places until he’d spoken to Manny. Hoping to enlist his friend in the mission, Manny had told Justin everything and the boy had rabbited, no doubt right into the arms of the bad guys. God only knew when David would run him to ground. He wouldn’t tell Lister that. The general looked as if he was measuring David’s head for a place above his mantle. “I have some things I need to verify.”

  “And you’re waiting for an engraved invitation to do it?”

  “Well, I could just put handcuffs on him and haul him in to some dark cave and water-board him.” That wouldn’t blow his cover at all.

  Lister flashed his eyeteeth. “So you can’t find the kid, can you?”

  No way in hell would he admit that. “I thought it was more important to get to my crime scene before you sent any more flunkies to fuck it up, Sir.”

  Papa Rose shifted behind David.

  “Colonel Jay is our acting coroner. He needed to verify death and cause. Our crispy critter was dead hours before that explosion. Blunt force trauma to the head.” Lister snapped his fingers.

  David handed him the tablet.

  “He might be able to give us a rough shoe size based on the crushed skull bone, but not much else.” The general brought up the biometric system lock and pressed his fingerprint to the screen. After a brief flash, he held the camera to his right eye.

  Welcome Security Chief Lister scrolled across the screen.

  “Damn.” Papa Rose rocked back on his heels. “They really were investigating.”

  One was anyway. “And Lieutenant Rogers?”

  The Marine was Lister’s right hand woman.

  “Preserving much of the crime scene as it was. We wouldn’t want any visitors messing it up and pointing the blame at others.” Lister brought up a list of movie files. “Everything they moved was recorded as it was touched.”

  Well damn. David opened the first file. Heard the voices of Rogers and Jay as they identified themselves and the location. He paused the clip. “They find anything of interest?”

  “Rogers is attempting to recreate the blast, but apparently no one bothered to save criminology data before the servers went dark. So she’s having to construct everything from scratch.” A twinkled appeared in Lister’s blue eyes.

  For once, David didn’t think the officer pictured pulling out his spleen and stomping on it.

  “Rogers also thought of something to give us a leg up on the terrorists.” Lister tapped an eyeball icon on the screen. “Since the whole place is wired, we can track their computers.” The general typed in Dirk Benedict. The screen blanked. A moment later, a blurry image filled the screen. “We can also remotely activate the cameras to see and hear our enemy.”

  The image focused on a balding pumpkin and transmitted the sound of flatulence.

  Papa Rose leaned in closer. “What is that?”

  The hairy pumpkin jiggled as it moved back. Chest hair sprouted from boobs that drooped over the pumpkin as it morphed into a gut. Dirk’s gut.

  David gagged. “Fuckin’ A.”

  Papa Rose slapped his hands over his eyes. “I should get combat pay for having to witness that.”

  “That’s just wrong.” Falcon grimaced.

  Lister chuckled. “Rogers thought of it after you mentioned the bug in the Doc’s room. Unfortunately, the terrorists are a suspicious lot and don’t take their computers with them everywhere.”

  When Dirk began sponge-bathing himself, David killed the image. “How do they communicate?”

  “Verbally.” Lister pushed his readers to the top of his head. “Except Dirk. He’s getting orders from someone.”

  “Jake Turner?” Please let it be the lawyer. David cracked his knuckles. The asshole deserved years of the drippie-burnies and other sexually transmitted diseases for backstabbing Mavis.

  “Unknown. The signal bounces off six or seven other computers preventing a positive id.”

  Fuck. Guess technology couldn’t solve all their problems. David typed in Justin Quartermain’s name. The screen returned zero results. “How many dead zones are in the system?”

  Lister nodded. “Lots of ‘em. And absolutely no spare equipment to cover them.”

  David hit up Justin’s history. The boy had gone off the grid yesterday afternoon. Last known coordinates: Sector Seven. Well that’s just peachy. He’d need backup on this stroll.

  Papa Rose shifted closer. “Maybe you should ping Buchanan.”

  David typed in Eddie’s name. A triangle popped up in Pasture two.

  Four men materialized on the screen. Two men with shirts tied around their nose and mouths pinned a third man to the wall. Despite the swollen eyes, bloody nose and fat lip he knew the victim was Eddie Buchanan.

  The fourth man licked his red knuckles under his mask. “Tell us where it is.”

  “Fuck you!” Eddie spat a crimson loogey into the fourth man’s face.

  “You two—” David turned in time to see Papa Rose’s back disappear into the passageway. They would find Eddie. Hell, he might as well join them. Until Justin crawled out of the dead zone, he’d be sitting with his thumb up his ass.

  Blocking his path, Lister logged off the system. “Find Quartermain. He’s gonna lead us up the food chain. I don’t want the muscle-headed flunkies. I want the mastermind—preferably in a body bag before any more people get killed.”

  David juggled the tabl
et on his way to the armory and sent an email to Ray and Folgers. His men might not mind a little payback in Sector Seven.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Sunnie, will you do something for me?” Mavis slogged up the ramp. The swell of voices rang off the stone, growing louder as she neared the canteen. She swallowed hard. Food. She needed food. Something mild so she wouldn’t throw-up. Unfortunately with MREs on the menu, she was left with sausage in gravy or maple sausage.

  She was sick of sausage.

  “Sure.” Sunnie sashayed ahead. Her long brown ponytail swung back and forth with each step. “What do you need?”

  Shep, the German shepherd bounded at her side. He lunged forward then trotted back, tail wagging. Obviously, the dog still enjoyed his daily ration of sausage. His nails clicked on the stone ground.

  “Can you pick out a camera for me?” Mavis burped into her hand. Ugh. Maybe she wasn’t going to make it to the serving counter. She needed to stash some crackers into her pockets for early mornings. At least, she hoped she only suffered in the morning. With her son, she’d had oh-you’re-awake sickness.

  “You can borrow mine.” Sunnie finger-combed her hair over her shoulder. “I think I packed it.”

  “It’s not for me.” Mavis paused by the ramp’s exit onto the dining hall floor. The greasy scent of sausage hit her. She clamped her lips together. Good Lord, why had she had the latrines built on the next floor down?

  Stopping next to her, Sunnie rubbed her back. Her voice trembled. “Are you okay, Aunt Mavis?”

  She nodded and swallowed bile.

  “You look kinda…green.”

  “That’s to be expected.” Mrs. Bancroft snapped her fingers as she climbed the ramp. Three dogs trotted at her side.

  Shep hunkered low before leaping on the golden retriever. The two dogs rolled across the floor and collided with a Chihuahua. The fourth dog, a mutt, barked at the jumble of fur.

  Sunnie clapped her hands. “Shep behave.”

  The dog’s ears twitched before he turned to greet his fellow canines.

  Cradling her bandaged arm, Mrs. Bancroft swept her callused hand over Mavis’s forehead. “Did you eat anything before you got out of bed?”