Dyson turned to them. “I’m afraid they’re after your child. They didn’t make a move until they had evidence that you’d consummated your relationship, correct?”
Chloe made a strangled sound. “We used protection, not that it’s anyone’s business.”
“You’ll be pregnant within the week. It takes some time for the swimmers to make it up your love tunnel, but once they do, you’ll be whoop.” Lucky used his hands to gesticulate an enormous distended stomach.
“What part of we used protection don’t you understand?”
He wanted to console her, reassure her pregnancy was off the table, but the thought of having a baby floated into his head and became lodged there. Instead of fear or depression, the idea appealed. “I think they’re right sweetheart. That squad could have caught up to us in the building or the sewer. They held back. Even when they shot at us it was more like they were herding us in the direction they wanted us to go than trying to actually shoot us.”
“Jake, don’t tell me you’re buying this whole thing. I am not having a baby. We are not having a baby. We used a rubber, remember?”
Suspicion crept in as he sorted through all the facts they’d been presented with. He started to see a larger picture more clearly. “Daisy Mae gave you those condoms, didn’t she?”
Chloe’s face paled and her hands shook.
“This Professor Del Bosque wants us to have a kid. And Spetrino led the government to us because he was playing both sides. The little bit of information I got through on the screen there suggests Project Genesis is some kind of super human baby factory experiment. And they probably used our escape to find Dyson’s warehouse here.” Grudging admiration for the strategist who’d orchestrated the moves formed.
He led her to the doorway between the kitchen and living room area to give her space from the other men and the illusion of privacy. It was also a strategic location to try and shield her from falling debris. An enormous explosion resonated and the floor canted to the left. Poor Chloe had a shell-shocked expression on her face and he hated knowing there wasn’t anything he could do to alleviate her confusion and alarm.
“It goes deeper than that. I made you a copy of the information I’ve gathered so far.” Lucky tossed a flash drive to him. “I haven’t figured out why the government broke off the project, but Del Bosque is on the run. He’s locked down the facility in North Dakota, and I think the only reason you haven’t run into his security forces yet are because they’re tangled with the boys from the government.”
Ceiling tiles fell to the floor.
“Actually, I believe Del Bosque’s force hung back and allowed me to do their dirty work for them. Rather smart, considering. No risk of losing their own men and no battle fatigue.” Dyson smiled, his sharp, pointy teeth gleamed, and Greiff fought a bone deep revulsion and fear. “They’re in the sewers below us right now exploding charges in an attempt to escape the cave-in I set.”
“We have to get out of here, right now. If I am pregnant or will be or whatever, my kid is not ending up in the hands of these people.” She clenched her hands into fists and fought the tears pooled in her lower eyelids.
He reached back and withdrew a weapon with each hand. The blade he’d taken off the soldier from the apartment had gotten dropped in the sewers somewhere. “You know how to shoot?”
“Yep. My dad used to take me to the range. He was real big on self-defense with extreme prejudice.” She accepted the 9mm and checked the safety. “I never understood why he made such a big deal out of me learning how to shoot. Now, I feel like I owe him an apology for being such a pain in the ass.”
“If you could shoot, why the hell were you taking risks running around unarmed and taking out petty thieves?” Disbelief and exasperation caught up to him, and he wanted to shake her. Hard.
“I can’t go invisible with a gun. The gun would be floating around in the air and give me away. Plus I didn’t want to kill anyone. Just make them sorry for being a douche bag.”
Lucky and Dyson laughed, but Greiff was ready to lose his shit. She was nuts, and he’d spend some time making sure she understood there wouldn’t be any more vigilante nonsense where she put herself in harm’s way.
He tried to convince himself it was for her own good, but deep down he knew it was because the thought of losing her petrified him.
Chapter Twelve
Damien Childs waited in the airport terminal for his flight to board. A late night flight to Missouri for his next assignment. Grit stung his eyes from left over make-up caked to his eyelashes and lids. Daisy Mae had been one of his more flamboyant characters. He acknowledged he’d genuinely miss Chloe, but the wardrobe and grooming upkeep issues he was glad to be rid of. He’d glued on individual fake hairs into his eyebrows to thicken them up to an average man’s appearance in the bathroom. A complete pain in the ass, but necessary to help his newest persona be convincing. Not shaving his face twice a day and having his legs waxed would be wonderful.
Travelers and airport staff wandered past him in a flow that slowed to a trickle or clogged the terminal to almost a standstill. Couples held hands or bickered as they strode to connecting flights or their cars. Toddlers wandered by, their sleepy eyes half lidded, or were carried along with other baggage. The scenes brought a familiar ache to his chest.
He opened the camera gallery on his phone and flipped through each picture within for an hour. The Professor had promised him one last job, and then he would be free to leave the compound with his wife, Jasmine, and their daughter, Eva.
He traced the line of Jasmine’s jaw in his favorite photo. She’d turned toward the river in the background and had a flower nestled into her hair behind her ear. It’d been a magic day, and he went back to it often in his memories. The soft swell of her pregnant belly added to her allure. All her long, straight black hair hung down her back in a silken curtain and her eyes shone.
Her natural beauty astounded everyone around her. The first time he’d seen her, he’d been dumbstruck.
The day captured in the photo seemed like ages ago, but it’d only been four months. The brief video chats they’d had since then hadn’t been enough, but it was all they were allowed.
He’d wanted out of working for the program as an active reconnaissance agent. The skills he’d developed as a result of his tenure in one of the summer camps gave him attributes suited to corporate espionage or spying in an information gathering role. And he’d spent the first ten years doing that without complaint. No friends or family to fall back on, he floated from one assignment to the next, anchorless and alone.
Over time, the demands on his intelligence gathering became more invasive and manipulative. He balked and argued with his handlers. Even tried to escape his life via suicide. He’d believed nothing existed that could hold him to the Earth. He had nothing and no one. Even Chloe, who he’d lived with for years, didn’t know who he truly was. Depression swept him into its tide and he let it drown him.
Until her. Until Jasmine. Everything changed when he met Jasmine. He realized now the fatal mistake of falling in love. Before Jasmine, he’d had nothing and no one of real value in his life.
Now, the Professor had something to hold onto and use to control him. If he did not deliver on the assignments given him, Jasmine and their daughter would be gone forever.
Eva, the baby he’d never seen in person. Deep down, he knew that each assignment would blend into another, peppered with short visits to see his wife and maybe his child.
Until he got killed.
The flight attendants announced that business class could begin boarding, and he slid his phone into his pocket. The briefcase he’d acquired added to the new persona of a young, eager lawyer. Along with his tailored business suit and a fresh hair cut, he slid into the role with such ease no one would know it for a ruse.
The walkway to the plane bounced under his measured steps. He tucked the briefcase into the overhead compartment and folded his tall frame into the window seat. T
wilight was falling outside and he let his mind wander through the information he’d been given for his next assignment.
A tall, muscular man in a dark suit slid into the seat next to him. Damien took in the short, tight hair cut and mirrored sunglasses the passenger wore and unease trickled through him.
“Mr. Childs, I have a proposition for you.” The man held out a plain white business card and he took it automatically. “Log on to this website URL using the password on the card. All the instructions you need will be there. Once you long on, you will have thirty minutes to examine the contents of the website.”
The man stood up, his large silver wristwatch gleamed with a dull glow in the low airplane lighting. Damien didn’t say a word.
“We can help you get your wife and daughter back.” He strode back to the doorway of the plane and slipped past the stewardess into the retractable walkway.
The white card had two lines of text printed on the front side in black ink. He pushed the button overhead to indicate he needed assistance and requested a bottle of water and cup of ice.
When the items arrived, he filled the cup, tore the card into bits, and dunked them beneath the surface of the liquid.
By the time the plane taxied in Missouri, the card would be nothing but pulp.
Thoughts tangled themselves out in his head in an unending mess without beginning or end. At last they were airborne. He closed his eyes and pretended to sleep, the plastic cup clutched in both hands on his lap.
***
“Run, Chloe. Faster.” Greiff careened into the wall as the building shuddered and the floor canted to the left.
Her shoulder ached, and sharp pieces of debris embedded in her feet as they flew down the hall. With his longer legs, Greiff outpaced her. Adrenaline kicked in to overdrive as a section of the ceiling gave way.
Lucky sprinted in front of them all, fast as a, well, rabbit with a hungry predator on its heels.
Dyson caught her around the waist and threw her over his shoulder and she screamed. Shock contorted Greiff’s face, but he recovered and sprinted in step with their ally.
“Follow Lucky down those steps. Take them to the second floor. We’re going to have to jump for it.” Dyson shouted at him and didn’t even sound winded.
Explosions ripped a hole in the floor behind them. They slammed through a door at the end of the hall, and as her head cleared the frame, she glimpsed three people in black commando gear scaling the hole in the floor.
“Faster, Dyson. Move faster.” Her heart raced and terror engulfed her. Greiff was a few steps behind, and dread he’d be captured or shot speared her. “Damn it Greiff get the lead out.”
He cleared the door moments after them, his focus concentrated on the stairs, and she felt like she could breathe again.
Their shoes made dull thuds on the cement steps as they raced to lower floors.
“Hang on Chloe.”
Dyson leapt from the landing to the next one down and her light grip slipped off his belt. He impacted the floor and pain spread in a starburst from her abdomen. Twice more he used the same action. Greiff ran down after them, skipping three and four steps at a time as he came. They followed Lucky through an exit door and met up with him at an open window. Lucky slung his bag over his shoulder and peeked out the window from the cover of the wall.
“It’s clear for now.” He climbed onto the sill and prepared to jump.
Greiff caught up and stopped him. He set the safety on his gun. “Let me go first. Chloe, set your safety.”
She’d set it before they started running, but didn’t say anything. If it made Greiff feel better to boss her around and take care of her, she didn’t care. Eventually she’d have to set him straight if he got too domineering, but armed, dangerous men were in pursuit of them. Arguing might get them captured or killed.
Dyson put her on the floor in time for her to witness Greiff launch himself out the window. She tucked the weapon into the front of her pants and hoped like hell the safety didn’t release when she landed.
“Holy shit.” The utterance escaped her mouth in a shocked whisper.
The cold, strangely smooth skin of Dyson’s hands in hers surprised her. Scales coated his palms, and she’d thought they’d be rough, but they weren’t.
Lucky snorted. “See you at the bottom, Chloe.”
He leapt from the window sill. The unmistakable resonance of gun shots pierced the building’s groans and shrieks as it continued to crumble.
Dyson jerked and hissed through clenched jaws. “Miss Saunders, I apologize in advance. This may be frightening and painful, but you will survive it.”
“What?”
Translucent vertical membranes closed over his eyes and he kissed the back of her right hand. In a lightning fast move, he grabbed her up and dangled her outside the window. “Be brave, Chloe. This is the hardest part and then you’re free.”
Air swirled around her legs and whipped her hair into her eyes. Empty space opened up below her and she kicked her legs ineffectually. Cold, absolute, primal dread gripped her. “No. Dyson. No. Please. It’s too high. The movies lie about this stuff. A human can’t fall from this high up without getting hurt really bad. Greiff and Lucky are crazy. They’re probably de—”
“You’re smart and capable. I’m sorry for this, but it’s the safest way out. I’d throw you free if I could, but it seems one of our pursuers is a rather good shot. Greiff is waiting for you at the bottom.”
And he let go.
She didn’t have time to scream. Fright and surprise froze her lungs, and then pain washed over her in a black tar undertow from her feet and legs on impact. Large chunks of concrete and rocks surrounded her. She tried to move her legs to stand, and fought to stay conscious. Agony spread from her lower extremities. A glance revealed shredded pant legs, and the white of bone popped through her flesh into the air.
Greiff scooped her up and scrambled away from the building. Inhuman roars she recognized from the sewer pierced her ears and then the chugging of a boat engine registered. She kept her gaze focused on Greiff’s face—his stubble and strong jaw, the dark blue eyes and the straight lines of his eyebrows. The world swayed back and forth before he released her into a cold vinyl seat.
Tears streamed down her face and her teeth chattered. The hot stickiness of her blood flowed over her legs.
Greiff and Lucky argued somewhere to her left, but she couldn’t concentrate on their words. The engine noise drowned out most of what they said. Or perhaps that was the whoosh of blood in her ears. She was dimly aware they raced into the open water of a river.
Greiff came to her with a blanket and a huge first aid kit, white lines etched in his face around his eyes and mouth. She reached up to smooth them out and he kissed her palm. The chattering got worse and her heart fluttered.
“Honey, I’m so sorry. But your legs are broken, and I have to set them. They’ll heal up, but if I straighten the bones now, it’ll make sure that they heal right.”
She attempted to nod but couldn’t. The grim line of his mouth flattened down until his lips almost disappeared. He wrapped her in the soft, clean blanket and she clamped her fingers around the edges.
The blade of his pocket knife sliced through the remnants of her pant legs. Colorful swear words peppered his language as he verbally castrated everyone they jointly knew. Dark blue eyes caught her stare and held it as he gripped both sides of her right calf.
“This one’s worse. So I’m doing it first.”
He moved one hand to her thigh above her knee, and the over cradled the muscle of her lower leg. He pulled down, and bones popped and ground together. She clamped her lips tight and tried not to screech or cry, but failed.
“It’s okay baby. You scream if you need to. One more time.” He flexed her foot into a normal position, and the world went fuzzy around the edges.
Vomit raced up her throat and she turned her head to the side so it didn’t end up all over her chest. Tight bands of gauze constricted her le
g. He finished wrapping the wounds, and the appendage felt better. Pressure and splinters of pain from bone shards grinding against each other and the muscles decreased.
The long, capable fingers she’d so admired now were instruments of torture as he straightened three of her toes and dug glass and rocks from the soles of her feet.
“Damn Dyson. I’ll kill that lizard mother fucker for doing this to you. I should have held you when I jumped. I thought I could catch you. Didn’t think he’d drop you straight down.”
“Shot. Dyson…shot.” He repositioned her on the seat and white spots swam over her vision. A whimper escaped despite her efforts to contain the noise.
“I still should have jumped with you.” He clasped her left leg. “This one’s not broken in as many places, but the fracture is a compound one. You landed on a bunch of cement slabs with iron reinforcement bars sticking out of it. Glass everywhere. It’s amazing the rest of your body isn’t banged up as well. I’m so sorry.”
“Damn it, Jake.” Labored breaths punctuated her words. Exhaustion and pain tried to suck her under. If he kept blaming himself for her injuries, they’d be screwed. He had to stay focused on the task of getting them to safety. “Stop. Fix it. I thought you were some kind of Army tough guy. A real bad ass.”
He shook his head and met her stare. “Last big one, sweetheart.”
The shredded muscles felt like they were on fire as the bone moved back to its correct position. A fresh gout of blood poured from the wound. Glass clinked as it bounced off the floor of the boat. He wound more gauze around packed up four by fours and tied it off.
“Jake. My pelvis hurts. Lay me flat?” Jake would take care of her. She trusted him. His face was the last thing she saw as conscious thought fled and emptiness replaced the pain blazing in an uncontrolled river.
Water sprayed out behind the boat in a huge plume as they crested ocean waves. Stars dotted the night sky. She put her hands on the slick floor and sat up, cringing against the ache in her abdomen and legs. The comfy blanket now made her hot and sticky, so she tossed it aside. A few experimental tries at wiggling her toes revealed the bones weren’t healed yet.
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