by S. M. Dapelo
“Let’s do breakfast.” Ethan ran a hand through his hair, “We’ll go from there. I think we all need something to sop up the alcohol in our systems.”
“Not me,” Tanner was staring at the screen. “I don’t get hangovers.”
“Lucky you,” muttered Berto snidely.
“I’ll go make pancakes, that ought to help,” I started out of the room, when Ethan grabbed my hand and swung me into his arms, kissing me.
“Don’t forget the syrup,” he smiled at me. “And I love you. You’re gonna get used to hearing that.”
Tanner groaned behind him, “So that’s how you're punishing her?” I rolled my eyes and headed to the door.
“I’m going with Sam,” announced Lyssa. “You don’t need me here.” We walked into the kitchen, and I grabbed a bunch of ingredients out of the pantry and fridge. “We have Bisquick,” Lyssa pointed at the pantry.
“Don’t need it.” I started adding everything in a bowl and started stirring, “All I’ve been doing for two weeks is watching television, and that includes the food network thing. I know what I’m doing.” I started up the stove top and grabbed a pan.
“Why’d you lock us out yesterday? Oh, and excellent job on the bluffing,” she smiled.
“Yeah, I think you’re the only one that’s happy with me right now,” I added the batter to the pan.
“Oh, I think Ethan’s happy with you,” she winked at me, causing me to blush.
“Lyssa, can I ask you something?” I stared at the pan.
“Sure,” she shrugged.
“How messed up was our home life?” I asked quietly.
“I don’t remember.” She tilted her head to the side, “I remember yelling, but whenever it started you would take me to the neighbor’s house and then go back. I remember you saying something about helping Tanner. Basically, the two of you protected me from the worst of it.”
“I saw Tanner’s back. I didn’t do much of a job protecting him,” I flipped the pancake.
“Because it wasn’t your job,” Tanner growled behind us. “I was six years older than you Sam. It was my job to protect you. And then I lost you, thanks to those bastards.”
“You couldn’t have protected her.” Ethan walked in behind him, “She was on their radar already. If you’d left her there, they might have grabbed Lyssa as well.”
“Mom might have lived,” Tanner said.
“And your sisters might have died.” Ethan walked over and grabbed a pancake off the plate taking a bite of it, “Your father was a bastard, there’s no doubt. He beat you to a bloody pulp, and I’m sure your sisters got hit as well. Why do think I didn’t spank Sam last night, even though she deserved it?”
“I told you, I thought I unloaded the gun. Heck, even Tanner thought it was.” I flipped another pancake onto the plate.
“Which is why he will be reading several books on firearms.” Ethan kissed my neck as I put the last pancake on the plate, “It’s embarrassing that my head of security didn’t notice the gun was still loaded.”
“Ohh, and Sam gets punished by getting mind-blowing orgasms,” Lyssa smiled as Tanner looked up at the ceiling.
“I have another punishment in mind for Sam,” he handed the plate to Tanner and the syrup to Lyssa. “Why don’t you get everyone started. We’ll be in shortly with more.”
I started making more pancakes. I felt Ethan walk up behind me, and he stroked my arm. “They’re delicious,” he whispered.
“You’re supposed to eat them on a plate with syrup,” I said.
“I like them how I like them,” he breathed into my ear, causing me to close my eyes.
“Ethan, what are you doing?” I kept working on the food.
“Punishing you. It was torture for me to see you with a gun to your head, so I’m torturing you. But only a little bit.” He bit at my ear, “I’m glad I talked you into the green dress. I have so many plans.” He started pulling the skirt up, all the time running his mouth up and down my neck.
“How’s this torture?” I asked.
“Because you’re not getting any. Oh, and your pancakes are burning,” he said.
“Damn it,” I grabbed them out of the pan. They were a little crispier than they should have been, but not burnt.
“Let’s get them to everyone,” Ethan picked up the plate and walked away. I stood there trying to catch my breath. “Samantha, you need to eat. Come on,” Ethan said in a stern tone.
“Yeah,” I said shaking my head as I followed him.
“Tanner, trade me places,” Ethan said as he walked in.
“You always sit at the head,” Tanner remarked as he got up and changed places.
“I’m making sure Sam eats,” smiled Ethan as he put me next to him. “She’s still losing weight, and I don’t think any of us want another wrestling match to retake her blood.”
I took one pancake and put it on my plate. Ethan frowned and added another to it. Then added butter and syrup. “I didn’t drink last night. I don’t think I need the carbs like you do.”
“No, you need the calories.” Ethan swallowed some juice, then looked at everyone else, “Give the Sparks Notes version of Project Chimera to everyone, Berto.”
Berto took a sip of coffee, “Okay. In ancient Greece, a Chimera was a female monster. It had the head of a lion, body of a goat, and tail of a serpent. It was more than one thing. In today’s world, a Chimera is considered a biological organism with two or more distinct sets of DNA. A lot of times that happens with bone marrow transplants and such.”
“Are you saying I have two different sets of DNA?” I asked.
Berto glared down at his plate, “No. But that project was designed, so certain agents with certain talents were developed … with different skill sets. It’s hard to explain.”
“No, it’s not.” Tanner took a bite, “Sam this is good,” he gave a strained smile to me, “I said before I have a skill set. Well, I have several. I shoot like a master, I defuse bombs, I’m one of the best hand-to-hand experts you’ll ever find.”
“He’s so humble,” Lyssa smiled at him. He just rolled his eyes.
“I’m also considered a chess grandmaster, a poker champion, have rebuilt five engines on various classic cars, and can probably hack into Berto’s computer if I wanted to,” he took another bite.
“You could not,” Berto sneered at him.
Tanner picked up a tablet, hit it twice and handed it to Berto. “I did that before breakfast since I knew I was going to have to prove myself. And get those pictures of Lyssa off there.”
Berto’s face paled, “How?”
“I watched you. That’s all I have to do, watch someone who’s good, and I can copy them. Sure, I can read a book and pick the skill up too, but I’m more visual,” he sat back as everyone stared at him, “That’s what Project Chimera is about. Making super-spies. Giving them more than one skill set. It’s also why Sam was considered one of the top operatives when we found her, and she was only twenty-one with no military experience.”
Berto stared open-mouthed at Tanner for a moment. Then looked at us, “Yeah, they took ten kids who were considered gifted and trained them while they were still in their teens. They all worked for various agencies and were considered the best.” He took a breath, “I’m no expert on this, but their training looked brutal.”
“I am, and it was.” Tanner drank his coffee, “They combined basic training with BUD/S, Army Ranger Training, and all four Special Forces modules. Only all of that was condensed into six months. Plus, there was computer training, languages, and other skills added in. They made human weapons.”
“Jesus Christ,” Xavier sat back. “How did she not kick our asses that last time?”
“Samantha, eat,” Ethan said quietly tapping the plate. I realized I hadn’t touched anything and took a bite. His hand went onto my leg, slowly caressing up.
“Aren’t you supposed to be listening to this,” I whispered to him.
He gave a smirk, “I can multitask.” He fingers
started gathering up my skirt, caressing the skin under it.
I noticed everyone was staring at the two of us, “Did you say something?” I asked.
“How did you not hurt us?” Xavier asked.
I shrugged, “I don’t remember anything. They wiped my memory, and probably most of my skills. Plus, I didn’t want to hurt anyone, I just wanted to get away.”
“She never told you about this?” Xavier looked at Ethan who gave a smile.
“No. I knew there were parts of her job she couldn’t talk about and I never pushed it. I respected it.” He shrugged, “There are parts of my job I never talked to her about.”
“But you brought her in,” Berto stared at Ethan.
“And pulled the Agency’s HR file, which showed normal training. Nothing spectacular, and we had no reason to think otherwise. Though I should have suspected something. She was only twenty-one. Because of how my parents trained me, I didn’t think anything about her age. I graduated college at sixteen.” Ethan shook his head, still driving me nuts under the table. “Was there any statement about why that age range?”
“I haven’t read through everything yet,” Berto admitted. “I just noticed the age range was between fourteen and sixteen. Sam was fifteen when they took her, meaning Lyssa was thirteen. Still under the age range.”
“I got custody of her that year. No one could account for Sam,” Tanner jaw ticked.
I grabbed Ethan’s hand, making him smirk, then took a breath, “They used that age range because they believed we were still young enough to be influenced, but old enough to withstand the rigors of harsh training. They thought anyone older wouldn’t conform as easy and anyone younger would break.” All eyes turned to me. “It’s in the files,” I rolled my eyes.
“I’ll go through all of them after breakfast,” Tanner finished his plate and juice.
“Ethan, I can …” I started, and he shook his head, but it was Tanner who answered.
“You’re on medical leave until further notice Samantha. You are not to go through any files, and you’re only reading classics. If Ethan agrees. No more violent movies, no more violent books, no more TV shows about spies who do dumbass shit.”
“Can I watch the food network?” I asked sulkily.
Tanner looked over at Ethan who nodded, “That I’ll agree to, along with programming of my approval. I’m thinking maybe some sitcoms.”
A thought occurred to me, and I stared at Tanner, “Hey, why didn’t you watch any cooking programs? If you could do this, the food you made should have been fantastic.”
Every eye in the room turned accusingly to Tanner who shrugged, “Cause I didn’t want to. Shit, I can make anything. I just didn’t want to become the family cook. It’s harder to fail spectacularly then do a respectable job,” With that, he smiled and left the room.
Chapter 30
The next two weeks were me reading all the classic, watching generic television, and being teased to distraction by my husband. Oh, he also let me read a bunch of books on micro expressions. I tried to stay out of everything. No really, I did. Notice I didn’t say I succeeded.
While the security around the compound became more complex, by day five everyone in the house stopped paying attention to what they locked me out of. The room started staying unlocked on day three, probably because I only ever went into the library or kitchen to cook. By day five they stopped paying attention about locking me out of devices and I was quickly into the files that Berto had downloaded. I read and re-read them several times, getting familiar with my background, trying to find any hint as to what was going on. I also watched the videos, aware of what I could do. Oh, and the headaches started.
The more data I took in, the harsher they got, until I was laying down in the afternoon with Blitz beside me. The first few times a couple of Tylenol took care of the pain, but in just a couple of days that stopped working. Usually unwinding in a dark room helped and since Tanner and Ethan were busy trying to get more information, they didn’t notice.
On day fifteen, one month after the surgery, I was in the kitchen making a quiche for lunch and listening to music. I sang along softly while putting the crust into the pie pan, then a loud booming voice was singing behind me. I turned around and Tanner was dancing and singing, obnoxiously, to the song. “What are you doing?” I laughed at him.
“Showing you that musical ability runs in the family,” he shook his hips and winked. I burst out laughing.
“I was that bad, huh?” I asked.
He straightened up, looking confused, “You were fantastic. I’m fantastic. I don’t understand.”
“You’re completely off tune and flat,” I shook my head and threw the rest of the ingredients in a bowl, “Apparently this copycat thing of ours doesn’t help with music.”
“I sound awesome,” Tanner huffed at me. “Everyone wishes they sounded like me. What’s for lunch?” he leaned over.
“A vegetable quiche. And I’m fairly sure they don’t,” I poured everything into the pie crust.
“Real men don’t eat quiche,” Tanner looked into the refrigerator and pulled out a drink.
“Who says?” I stared at him.
He shrugged, “The author of some book.”
“Then you’re missing out and can cook your own lunch,” I finished and popped it into the over.
He stood up, took a swig of his drink and smiled at me, “Look at you all domesticated. Ready for kids yet?”
“Ask me that again and I guarantee that you’ll never have any,” I grumbled.
“Just asking,” he shrugged.
I decided to turn things around, “Well, what about you? Where’s the special someone and when do I get to be an Auntie?”
“Okay, I’ll stop,” he looked at the soda, “I might need something stronger.” He took another swig, “So question,” he started.
“If it’s about kids, pass,” I grabbed a drink and opened it.
Tanner chuckled and shook his head, “No. Not that. When you were reviewing the files, did you notice that all the kids were living in a fifty-mile radius?”
I nodded and took a drink, “Yeah, so? I figured they were just lazy. We all had the same pediatrician and were put into foster care too.”
He slowly put the soda down, “How?” he cocked his head to the side.
“Most were because of domestic violence, a couple were because of child neglect,” I shrugged.
He shook his head and ran his tongue over his teeth, “No. How’d you get into the files? That particular file wasn’t added until three days ago.”
I searched my mind and winced, remembering the time stamp, “Oh.”
“You’re on medical leave,” he growled.
“I’m bored,” I whined. “I just reviewed the files. I didn’t try to ride horses or pick a fight.” Though that was starting to sound fun. “I only reviewed my files. I have a right to know about my life.”
Tanner’s nostrils were flaring as he leaned against the counter, “How many of the videos did you watch?”
I took another taste, trying to stall for time. “How many Sam?” he growled.
“All of them on that drive, plus some of the ones on your server,” I sighed.
His head swung toward me, “Which ones on my server?”
I shrugged, “Mostly the MMA’s. Some of the demolitions and the last three seasons of that dancing program.” I cocked my head at him, “Why a dance show?”
He looked annoyed, yet slightly embarrassed, “I like it. The girls wear tiny outfits and the dancing’s nice.” He shook his head, “Stop trying to get me off subject. How’d you get in?”
“I did what you said. I just watched and waited.” I took another swallow, “Does this surprise you? You’d have done the same.”
“Not if I was supposed to be healing,” he snarled, looking away.
“You’re lying.” I sighed, “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; I lost my memory, not my intelligence.”
He sighed a
nd slumped against the counter, “No, I couldn’t sit still either,” he looked at the stove, “You put the timer on?”
I shrugged, “Yeah.”
He walked over to the doorway, “Berto,” he yelled.
“What?” Berto walked in, “Do you always have to yell?”
“No,” Tanner replied, “I just like to. Anyway, I’m taking Sam for a walk. Lunch is in the oven, take it out when the timer goes off. She and I have some things we need to go over.”
“Like what?” Berto looked up from his tablet and glanced at the timer.
“Like how to set Lyssa up with a real man,” Tanner said as he pushed me out the back door, shutting it behind him.
“Mean,” I said to him.
“Wanna get stuck in a safe room with him again?” Tanner said out of the side of his mouth.
“That’s a whole lot of no. Where are we going?” We were headed up a path.
“To one of the barns we customized as a gym. Have you worked out at all?”
I shook my head, “Just with my husband. Oh, and a little yoga.”
“One: ick. I’ve told you I don’t want to hear about that. And two: good. But I think it’s time to slowly work you back up to a routine again. And Three: are you sure there’s not a chance you’re pregnant?” he asked.
“One: don’t ask about what you don’t want to hear. Two: I agree, but Ethan might fight it. And Three: no. The last five days are a guarantee I’m not.”
“Eww,” Tanner made a face.
I shrugged, “That’s what I said.”
“At least that explains why you were such a bitch,” he muttered. I took a swing at him which he dodged. We slipped into one of the larger barns. There were several punching bags hanging from the ceiling, various weapons in cases to one side, and a boxing ring in the center.
“This looks a little more physical than a treadmill,” I remarked.
“You’ve been watching all the fights, let’s see what you took in.” He ducked under the ropes to enter the ring, “But we’re doing everything at a quarter speed.”
“Do you think that’s safe?”
“I’m the only one I trust you to do this with. Now get in here,” Tanner crossed his arms.