Deadly Genesis (Boomers Book 2) (13 page)

“You can still say that after what you saw in the lab when we rescued your Amanda?” The raw anger in his voice disguised a wealth of worry.

“Yes.” She could. One, it would give her a shot at the bastards who took her teammates and two…” You would find me.”

The dark clouds in his expression eased and a smile flirted around his mouth. “I would.”

“So, they were hardly a threat to me.” She tilted her face up to him as he slid between her legs and bowed his forehead to rest against hers.

“Are you okay?” It was the first time he’d actually asked since arriving. His cold glare at her disheveled condition and her burns swept her from head to toe. He’d been angry—angry and afraid for her—but it was good that he came down from his temper.

“Sore. Battered and bruised. But I’m here and I’m good.” She nibbled a kiss to his jaw. “You’re worried. About more than what happened with the soldier or with the fire. What’s going on?”

He said nothing at first. He wasn’t prone to long confidences. More often than not, he stewed over his issues and didn’t bring them up unless he’d made a decision. And then it was only to fight about it. All the disagreements in the world couldn’t compete with the need to be with him. It had scared her at first, she wasn’t too proud to admit that. When Ilsa had explained it had something to do with DNA compatibility, she didn’t care.

She still didn’t.

Whatever demons Michael wrestled with, he sighed. “It’s Simon.”

The telepath had arrived in the warehouse just a few hours before, Amanda with him. She sat next to him while he scanned the prisoner and told them he found nothing. After some memory modification, they sent him back out to be found. She didn’t doubt they planted some type of tracking device on the man, but whether it bore fruit or not remained to be seen. She wanted to spend more time with her, but Amanda came and went with Simon, offering only a quick hug and a promise to call later. At least she wasn’t as pale or distant as she had been previously.

“What about Simon?”

Michael shook his head slowly. He ran his hands up and down her thighs, the contact light, but comforting at the same time. “He’s keeping things from us.”

“How can you tell?” The telepath could get into all of their heads. She had some training in resisting interrogation by a telepath, but the man could reach out from miles away and touch her mind. He didn’t do it often and he always seemed to maintain a modicum of privacy—but that was a choice on his part.

“I know him. He avoided answering direct questions. He dismissed suggestions. He left as soon as his task was complete and avoided discussion where Amanda was concerned.” Mouth compressing into a thin line, Michael shook his head.

“What did you want to discuss about Amanda?” She couldn’t do much about Simon, but Michael’s concerns with Amanda should have come to her first.

“She’s dangerous, Rory. She blew up the MRI at the house.”

Her eyes widened. That was news to her. “She didn’t do it on purpose.” It wasn’t a question. Amanda was one of the kindest, most effervescent personalities she knew. Rory might want to pound someone flat for being a douche, but Amanda would give them a second and a third chance to get it right. For some reason beyond Rory’s comprehension, she genuinely liked people.

“No. I don’t believe it was on purpose. Simon was distracted and, whatever he is doing to hold her together, it came apart at the seams. The point is, Ilsa could have been hurt.” Could have, not was. Which meant she wasn’t hurt.

“No, the point is something happened to her and we have to figure it all out and fix it.”

“Sweetheart…” Michael brushed a caress down her cheek with his thumb. “Garrett called. Ilsa is concerned about the way the chip interacted in her mind before and during the meltdown. She thinks Amanda may very well be a ticking time bomb—and there’s more.” He didn’t give her time to protest. Even as she was absorbing that information, he pressed on. “She was also not just a captive during those intervening months. She was most likely active for whomever held her.”

“What?” That didn’t make sense. “If she’d been free, she would have come home.”

“If—if is the big key there. We know the chips that Ilsa designed were for creating a homing beacon in a dog’s brain. The chips the rest of us have had fail-safes in them—fail-safes she used to shut us down. And it worked on Amanda in the lab…”

His words faded out and Rory’s stomach plummeted. Amanda and Ronan’s disappearances coincided too closely to be anything but a coordinated abduction. The implantation of the chips suggested experimentation and behavior modification.

“Weapons,” she blurted out. “They turned her into a weapon.”

“Yes.” He nodded slowly, his dark eyes studying her. “We may have to accept the very real possibility that she is
still
a weapon.”

“No.” Rory shook her head. “No, we don’t. We have to find out who took her, what exactly they did, and how to fix it. Then we can defuse any potential danger.”

If she played bait…

“Don’t you dare.” His scowl deepened, cutting grooves into his forehead and tightening the lines around his mouth.

“What?” She challenged him and put her coffee cup down. If he wanted a fight, she would give him one. They could do this, particularly if they worked together. The presence of the soldier suggested they already wanted to bag more heroes.

“You’re plotting. I can see it on your face. You want to play bait again…”

She grinned and smoothed her palms over his chest. “It worked with you. You caught me.”

The growl rumbling in his chest wasn’t friendly. She pressed a finger to his lips.

“Hear me out.”

He nipped the fingertip, teeth grazing the skin and sending a thrill through her, but she refused to be distracted.

“If we plot it right, Rex can travel with me in disguise. I answer a distress call with Curtis and Josh. We work as we always do, and then I let myself get separated when it seems right—natural. They bag me. You follow, but Rex is with me the whole time and can end it if it becomes a real threat.”

He said nothing, his steely expression darkening further. His fingers bit into her legs, but the force seemed contained.

“It’s not a bad plan and how better to find out where they moved their base of operations than to give them exactly what they’re looking for—”

“No.” He shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. You have no idea if they want you, for one. They targeted Josh on the roof. He was the one they drugged. You engaged them, but you’re also better at close quarters combat. They’d need distance to take you out.” Distance was what Michael excelled at. “And, frankly, you don’t look that powerful. Their other targets all have visible signs of their abilities.”

She wasn’t insulted by the assessment. “True, but they also got a taste of what I can do on that roof, so maybe I moved up the list.”

“I said no. It’s got an unacceptable risk…”

“I’m sorry, but when did you develop the ability to see all the possibilities? The probability that they would take me is high and—knowing you, as I do—the probability of rescue is higher.” She fisted his shirt and pulled him closer. “Trust me to do my job.”

“I do trust you. I trust you to leap without looking. I trust you to believe that you can see everything, and I trust that life changes in a split second of hesitation—it was all that stood between you and your head being blown off. You couldn’t have anticipated that attack. You can’t anticipate that they won’t just take you and put you down to free their other targets from your protection. You are too valuable to me, to your team, to the future.”

She scowled. “Damn the future. It isn’t set in stone. You can’t know what it will be with or without me. But we have a chance to save the now and that’s what we need to focus on.”

“My future would be devastated if you died, Rory. Don’t make me lock you up to keep you safe. Because I’ll do it.” The promise ended the discussion, and he pulled her into his arms. She wanted to fight him and beat on his chest, that stubborn pride of his—but how could she argue that her loss wouldn’t hurt him?

No, she would just have to do it on her own and then…pain stung her shoulder and she grimaced. Coldness flushed through her, and she jerked back to see the apology on his face.

“See, darling. You didn’t see that coming. I know you too well.” His image wavered and her vision blurred.

“You drugged me…you son of a—” and blackness swallowed her whole.

“Dude, she’s going to kick your ass when she wakes up.” Josh stood in the cell door. Michael pulled the blanket up over her and checked her pulse. The dosage Garrett suggested was perfect. Yes, she would be pissed. But, for now, she would be safe and unlikely to run off on some damn fool’s errand and risk her own neck.

“Are you ready?” Michael passed a cool glance over him. Since they already made a play for him, Josh volunteered, even before Rory, to bait their enemy.

The man nodded once. “I’m already low jacked and we’re scanning the emergency channels for the right ‘disaster.’” His mouth twisted at the last. Using someone else’s misfortune didn’t sit well with Michael either, but it was the lesser of the evils they sought to correct. He motioned for Josh to step out and secured the room.

The air vent over the cell included cross-hatched steel bars. She wasn’t leaving it. He’d stripped all of her tools and possible weapons before tucking her into the bed. Unless she took the bed apart—not an impossibility, he granted—she would stay where she was when she woke up. The Boomers were split right down the middle on this plan, something Simon should have picked up on when he arrived, but his lack of comment increased Michael’s concern.

His phone buzzed.

Garrett reported that Simon and Amanda hadn’t returned and it was well past the time when they should have. Yes, Simon was up to something.

“Simon’s not in on this,” he announced unceremoniously as he and Josh walked into the kitchen. Drake, Rex, and Curtis waited for them. “We could have used him, but for now we will proceed without him.”

Drake frowned and cracked his knuckles one at a time. “So we’re down Garrett and Simon?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Garrett will remain at the Hamptons House, securing the doctor and the other patients. Drake, I need you here to protect Rory—”

“That puts us down three, Captain. We’re going to be spread mighty thin to get Josh-man out.” Rex shook his head. Michael didn’t like it either, but they were prepared for this.

“We have Curtis, and I’ll be ranging point. You’ll be inside with him. We don’t need to let them get started. We just need a location, and then we blow it to hell and move on.” It was a dirty plan, but their options were limited. Not with so many key resources down. He could have used Rory on the op, but her desire to play target would have muddied the waters. Better to give Josh the option. He could at least fly, if necessary, and bring a tornado down on his assailants’ heads.

Given his preference, he’d take Drake, but he wanted someone he trusted protecting Rory. If they’d been at the Hamptons, he could have left her with Garrett—he stopped second guessing himself. The plan needed massaging, but it was the best they had to work with at this point. If Amanda continued to compromise Simon, it was better to get the answers they needed now rather than later.

“All right.” Drake nodded. “Let’s get everyone outfitted with coms. Josh, you need to start the adrenaline shots now.”

“Shots?” Curtis’ brows climbed.

“If we start pumping his adrenaline out, whatever they use to knock him out will wear off faster. Garrett had some suggestions for that, too. Let’s go.” Rex led the pair out but, instead of following Drake he blocked the doorway.

“This is a bad plan, Captain. You’re down three Boomers and we don’t work that way.”

“I know.” And he did. If anything, he knew their greatest asset was their ability to function without commands or orders. “But it’s also a fail-safe, Drake. If it goes to hell, I expect the three of you to get their asses out of the fire.”

“Their asses? What about yours?” The big man’s suspicions couldn’t be avoided.

“They won’t take me. They’d have to kill me first, and you don’t need to waste resources on a corpse. Get the coms together.”

Drake clearly wanted to argue, but he did as Michael asked. A monitor on the counter showed Rory’s slumbering form. He had a lot to live for, even if she did exactly as Josh speculated and kicked his ass when she woke. At least she would be alive to do it.

If they had the answers they needed and a solution for Amanda, though. That would smooth the troubled waters. He had to believe it.

“Where are we?” Amanda leaned forward and looked out the window.

“Connecticut. I have a farm on some acreage here. It’s quiet and secluded.” Simon turned down another long stretch of road. The buildings became sparser and sparser the further he drove. He knew the area well. It was the first place they’d arrived in when they tumbled back through time. Their arrival created an impact crater they’d disguised with the construction of a barn. It had taken him some time to track down the land’s owners and persuade them to part with it.

He doubted the Boomers realized he’d held onto it after all this time. They never returned to it in the years since their arrival, but he did now and again. Miles from any other population, the mental solitude soothed.

“We call that the sticks.” Amanda grinned. “It’s pretty, though.”

He glanced over at her. “Yes, it’s lovely.”

The peaceful retreat was the perfect place for a deep scan with no distractions. And if they went boom—he sighed and turned his gaze back to the road. No one else would be hurt.

Simon stacked wood into the fireplace and added kindling beneath. She would never have pictured him in the rustic little farmhouse with its hardwood floors and handcrafted fixtures. He carried their one duffle inside and lit two kerosene lamps. It was cool outside—cooler than in the in city—and he’d changed into a button down flannel over relaxed jeans. With the exception of his close cropped blond hair, he looked the part of farmer.