The cost would not be acceptable if their expensive weapon couldn’t be trusted. And he knew who would be blamed. It all came to rest on his shoulders.
Liman drummed his fingers on a table, rolling the options around in his mind.
Ethan knew he wasn’t who they’d told him he’d been.
Liman didn’t know if he could overcome this.
16.
Sunday. Aegis Group Headquarters, Chicago, Illinois.
Grant stared at his new phone. Zain had a bundle of them delivered via a courier about an hour ago. Since Aegis Group hadn’t contacted Lepta Team’s family beyond a few of the guy’s girlfriends, it was imperative they have a means of communicating.
The gut-punch had been opening up his photo gallery to see pictures of Melody. They’d gone to a nice dinner last week before leaving on the job. She’d looked beautiful in a goldish-pink dress that had shimmered. She’d rolled her eyes when he took a picture of her with the city lights behind her.
Zain was nothing if not thorough. Of course their new phones would be updated with all their information and preferences, right down to the custom sound Grant had picked for Melody’s texts.
He tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling.
Following the outburst earlier Grant had opted to wait in the hall where he wouldn’t be tempted to stick his nose in things and slow people down.
Vaughn and Riley were over checking in with the doc.
Nolan and Brenden had been given muscle relaxers and ordered to bed.
Grant had refused the drugs, opting to feel the strain, the bruises, because it kept him present.
If Melody were there, she’d give him that flat, no-nonsense glare of hers and order him to medicate or she’d pull rank. Chances were he’d make her do it. The need for control often over rode his better sense.
She balanced him in ways he hadn’t known he needed. With her by his side he’d learned to enjoy time off, to do something other than just work.
He couldn’t lose her.
The doors to his left banged open. Marco strode out. He glanced at Grant even as he picked up his pace.
“Come on,” Marco called out.
“What’s happening?” Grant shoved to his feet, clutched his phone and ran down the tile hall to the doors leading out into the breezeway.
Had they made progress? Did they know where Melody was?
Given that it was just Marco, Grant did his best to keep his hopes in check.
Marco slowed to a stop as they reached the sidewalk leading out to the main parking lot. The guys who trained or lived here had a separate lot over by the dorms, leaving this lot for employees and guests. Tonight there were easily two dozen vehicles still there, but only one that grabbed Grant’s attention.
A Land Rover sat next to the curb, under the tree on the left side of the parking lot. Three figures stood in the deepest shadows, while a fourth strode toward them.
The man was a little taller than average height, dark hair and eyes. He was dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt under a blue and gray plaid button down left half-open.
Marco stopped and Grant followed his lead. They both watched the man approach them, as if his arrival was significant.
The man stopped a few feet away, still on the asphalt. For a moment he stared at Marco, never once glancing at Grant.
“You’re never going to lose my number, are you?” the man asked.
Marco held out his hands. “I tried.”
“Clearly not hard enough.”
“What are you doing here, Ghost?” Marco asked.
Ghost, as in the mystery man who’d gotten Vaughn and his girlfriend out of Lebanon along with the others and Ethan? That Ghost?
“It appears we have a problem.” Ghost gestured at the doors. “You going to invite me in?”
“Who are your friends?” Marco asked.
Ghost finally glanced over his shoulder. “Interested parties. They won’t be joining us.”
If this guy was half as good as Marco said they needed him on their side.
Grant took a step forward. “We need all the help we can get.”
Marco brought up his hand, keeping Grant back. Marco’s attention never left Ghost. “Why now?”
“It’s complicated.”
Grant was tired of pussyfooting around. “Try explaining it.”
Marco nodded at him. “What he said.”
Ghost blew out a breath and glanced once more to the three waiting men in the shadows. “We figured out how your guy was changed. We also know who was behind this, and it’s not the Lebanese. They’re pawns in a much bigger game. And let’s just say I have a vested interest in stopping this. Okay?”
“Good enough for me.” Marco took a step back. “Come on.”
Grant studied Ghost as he stepped fully into the light. He was taller than Grant first assumed, and if he had to guess, the too-large clothing hid a body honed to do dangerous things.
Ghost turned his head and focused on Grant as they began to walk. “You were the one who took down some of their men?”
“Yes.”
“Marco said you brought back pill bottles with you.”
“Yeah,” Grant said though it hadn’t been a question. “You know what those were?”
Ghost merely grunted.
Great.
Marco led the way back into the control room.
There was decidedly less conversation than earlier. More than a few stared or darted glances their way.
Clearly those in this room knew who had just arrived.
They stopped at the long table set up on one side of the room. A gallon sized, clear plastic bag had the pill bottles Grant and Melody had taken off the men on Ibiza. Ghost picked up the bag and peered at the bottles.
“Stims,” he announced after no more than thirty seconds of study.
“Stims?” Grant echoed.
“They call them stimulants, but that’s not what they are.” Ghost tossed the bag back onto the table with clear disdain then focused on Grant. “They’re pre-encoded CRISPR pills.”
“Crisper?” Grant echoed. The word tickled the back of his mind.
“CRISPR,” Marco said softer. “Fuck.”
“The Lebanese shouldn’t have these.” Ghost pushed the bag farther from him as if it were distasteful. His lip curled and Grant could practically feel the man’s barely contained fury. “This shouldn’t be possible for them and now I know how they did it.”
“From the beginning,” Grant said.
Ghost jerked his head in a nod. “Every global power, everyone who wants to play on the global scale, they’re always after the thing that will make them faster and badder than everyone else. It’s how it’s always been. From breeding the best warriors to having the most deadly tools, that’s how it is.”
“You aren’t talking about an arm’s race.” Grant braced a hand on the table. He figured he was going to need this.
“No.” Ghost blew out a breath and kept staring at those bottles. “Twenty years ago the next chapter of the arms’ race began. Who could develop the most deadly soldier? That was when CRISPR was really discovered. They had to figure out how to edit genes to create people who were faster, stronger, smarter. To do that, they needed a system for how to edit the human genome.”
“And you know this how?” Grant knew he wasn’t going to like this answer.
Ghost just looked at him. “Because they did it to me. Voluntarily.”
“Shit.” Marco rubbed his face. “I didn’t want to know.”
“Then you shouldn’t have called me,” Ghost said without looking away from Grant.
“How many countries have this technology?” He asked.
“Maybe half a dozen,” Ghost answered without hesitation. “The US, Russia, the UK, South Korea, Japan, Germany. The Israelis know how, they just refuse to. These countries aren’t the problem though they are the source.”
Ghost began to pace the length of the table, glancing over the various bits la
id out.
“Someone stole the tech for how this was done. I’m still working on the who, but I think they used the Lebanese as a test rat. They wanted to know if they could take the science and apply it on their own to create a product. Ethan was the end result of that experiment.” Ghost grabbed the pill bag again. “This is evidence that the relationship has ended.”
He tossed the bag down once more with such force it skidded across the table and nearly off the other side.
“What do you mean?” Grant asked. “Spell it out for those of us run-of-the-mill humans.”
Ghost stopped, that unwavering stare of his meeting Grant’s gaze. “If you take the drugs, the effects are temporary. For an hour, you’re super human. But Ethan doesn’t need the pills. There are missing steps in the science that the Lebanese don’t have to make another Ethan. That’s why he’s valuable. He’s the only one they have.”
“If this was done to him, can it be undone?” Marco asked.
Ghost’s mouth screwed up. “I don’t know. I was led to believe the changes once made are permanent.”
“This is all good to know, but how does this help us now?” Grant glanced from the two men to the onlookers. “How do we find Melody now? Can we stop Ethan?”
“The only thing that’s going to stop Ethan is a bullet to the head. Anything else, he’ll recover from,” Ghost said.
That wasn’t comforting news, but at least Grant knew where to aim next time.
Ghost refocused on Marco. “You said Ethan didn’t recognize anything or anyone from his life before, correct?”
“Yeah. Pictures of his wife, kid, friends...” Marco shook his head. “Nothing.”
“That’s the part that doesn’t make sense to me. I remember my life from before. It’s like a dream, like something that happened to someone else, but I still remember it.” Ghost frowned.
“Again, not to keep beating the same drum, but how does this help us find Melody?” Grant asked.
“I’m here,” Ghost said. “We’ll find her. I promise. And, if possible, we’ll recapture your man.”
Grant didn’t find comfort in any of it, but maybe with someone like Ghost on their side they’d have a better chance of finding her alive.
MONDAY. UNKNOWN, CHICAGO, Illinois.
Melody knew she was dozing. She hadn’t actually fallen asleep, even if the odd, twilight state between sleep and wakefulness made her question that knowledge. Exhaustion had won out, more or less. But she couldn’t relax enough to become totally unaware.
A soft jangle of metal lured her consciousness back into the land of the living. It wasn’t a suspicious noise. More like she’d moved and maybe disrupted the coil of chain. Or Ethan had finally decided to stop playing at being a statue.
Thinking the man’s name caused Melody to shiver. She opened her eyes, blinking into the relative darkness. The light filtering in around the door from the next room over provided enough light for her to make out shapes.
Ethan was no longer sitting.
He stood. Judging by the way his shoulders hunched, his back was to her, his attention on the handcuff securing him to the wall.
The chain jangled again. He grunted.
The hair on the back of her neck stood up.
What was he doing?
She lay as still as she could, her entire body now hyper aware.
Ethan straightened and sucked in a deep breath. She heard his teeth grind together. He bent and she heard a soft grunt.
Was she more afraid of Ethan or these other people?
Truth was, she didn’t know. When she’d gotten shot she’d been in a moving vehicle. He hadn’t aimed at her, and they’d all been doing their jobs. It wasn’t personal.
A sick pop made her stomach churn.
Ethan hissed and more metal jangled. He turned in place, his arms free.
Did he just...?
Her gaze met Ethan’s in the dark and she knew he could see her.
He was loose.
She was still chained up.
Melody slowly pushed up into a sitting position.
Either he’d just popped his thumb out of its socket or broke his own hand to escape the handcuffs. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
He glanced past her at the door. The sounds from the building beyond had died down over the hours. She hadn’t heard a voice in quite some time.
Ethan crossed to the door and tried the knob.
It twisted, the mechanisms clicking and sliding.
He cracked the door open and peered out.
Melody held her breath.
Ethan opened the door and stepped out, leaving her line of sight. He also didn’t shut the door.
Shit.
This was so not good any way this happened.
She pushed to her feet, gathering the chain as quietly as she could. It was the only thing she had to use to defend herself.
A man grunted and something banged against a wall just on the other side from where she was. She took a step back, staring at the corner as if she could see through it.
The soft sounds of a struggle faded into silence.
She leaned forward, straining to hear anything else.
Nothing came to her.
Ethan was no doubt making a straight line out of here, leaving her behind. She hadn’t expected him to take her with him. Which meant she was now firmly in the Lebanese’s clutches. She was a captive in a no-win situation for herself.
She turned her attention to the ring her chain was fastened to. Earlier she’d tugged at it, but hadn’t tried very hard to escape. Now her life very likely relied on it. If Grant and the others hadn’t shown up already that probably meant her tracking signal was blocked somehow.
The chain was secured with a padlock. A new, very sturdy one.
The plate attaching the ring to the metal siding was also anchored well. Her nails couldn’t slide under it one bit.
A flash of movement in the corner of her eye drew her attention to the door, and the man standing with the light at his back.
Ethan.
He hadn’t left.
“You’re free. You can leave,” she said despite knowing he hadn’t uttered a word of English.
He took a step toward her.
She side-stepped and took the chain in both hands. It was hard and there was enough length she could get some momentum to use it as a defensive weapon.
But Ethan didn’t come at her. He went straight to the wall and with his one good hand fit a key into the padlock. With a twist of his wrist he had her chain in his hands.
He looked at her and said something. A single word that didn’t make any sense, then tugged.
He was taking her with him.
MONDAY. SAFE HOUSE, Chicago, Illinois.
Liman gripped the steering wheel with both hands. It was the only way to keep from shaking.
He’d left to try to figure out how they were flying out of the country. They couldn’t just load up in regular passenger seats, not with Elio ready to rip their throats out.
What fresh hell had happened now?
The security team hadn’t checked in.
“Heard anything?” Liman asked Khaled.
The man glanced at him, phone pressed to his ear. “No.”
Liman cursed under his breath and pushed the car faster. Whatever happened, whatever went wrong, it was on him. A few blocks later they skidded into the lot. He killed the engine and stared at the front door gaping open.
No one reached out to shut it. There was no guard on duty. Nothing.
Liman drew his handgun and glanced around the parking lot.
“One of the cars, the black one, it’s gone,” Khaled said.
Liman got out, keeping his weapon concealed under his jacket. The brisk morning air burned his lungs as he edged toward the front door. The hinges needed to be oiled. They squeaked. He did his best to slide in through the open space and not cause any more noise. The lights were still mostly off, but he didn’t need his eyes to see what ha
d happened. He could smell the blood.
Khaled entered after him and flipped the lights on.
Three of their stim project soldiers lay in pools of blood. There hadn’t been enough beds for everyone, so they made use of every available surface when it came to sleeping arrangements. These three had slept on the sofas in the front room.
“Was no one on watch?” Liman shoved his left hand through his hair.
“They were watching the door,” Khaled muttered, his face going pale.
The two of them advanced through the building, finding more of the same as they worked their way to the holding cell.
Sure enough, it was empty. All that was left was a single set of cuffs still attached to the wall.
“Damn it,” Liman spat.
Khaled turned in a circle. “This isn’t going to go over well.”
Without thinking, Liman lifted his arm and leveled his gun at the man’s head, then pulled the trigger.
Khaled’s lifeless body slumped to the ground.
There was no coming back from this for Liman.
The project was dead. Elio had killed them all. The only thing for Liman to do now was look out for himself.
MONDAY. AEGIS GROUP Headquarters, Chicago, Illinois.
Scene break.
Next paragraph here.
DAY. LOCATION, CITY, State.
Grant kept staring at the map, as if it would suddenly reveal where Melody was. He knew it wouldn’t, but as the hours ticked by his hope was beginning to wane. Eventually they’d get a lead. They always did. But would it be too late for Melody?
“I know who he is,” Gavin announced.
Grant straightened and stared at the younger man holding his tablet up like a beacon.
“And?” Marco prompted.
Gavin referenced the tablet screen. “Liman Fahed. Intelligence officer for the General Directorate of General Security.”
“And that tells us, what?” Grant asked.
“A name is a start,” Ghost said.
Grant ground his teeth together and focused on the map.
A name was just a name, especially when they didn’t know how to find the man.
He’d hoped that with Ghost’s arrival, they might make some sort of forward movement on locating Melody, but they were still stuck in a holding pattern.
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