Deadly Genesis (Boomers Book 2) (21 page)

I trust her, Simon. You can, too. She won’t do anything to deliberately endanger anyone.
Too many years of working together and she had utter faith in Halo’s abilities—even when no one else understood.

It is not a matter of distrust. For the plan to work, we have to be able to anticipate.

“By the numbers, if I see something or if something triggers a problem, I will tell you as quickly as I am able.” The hardness underscoring the words gave her the voice of a stranger. “Right now, our primary goal is rescue and extract. But we also need information.”

“We’ll get it.” Garrett tapped a pack on his side. “I’m going to pull their data drives. Simon can sweep the minds inside as we clear. If anyone knows anything, we’ll find it.”

Everyone wore gloves. Well, everyone except Amanda. She rubbed her fingers together, sparking some heat to ward off the cold. “How much longer?”

“Shift change in three minutes.” Drake didn’t even look at his watch. His gaze was fixed on the factory. It really didn’t look like any kind of super secure facility. If anything, it looked like a factory, right down to the smoke stacks puffing into the cool sky. But then what did Amanda know about how vodka was made?

During a shift change, guards were less likely to be vigilant. Chaos, delays between postings, and other distractions provided a valuable opportunity. It seemed odd to be waiting in the snow, just watching—dressed like a ninja.

You are not dressed like a ninja. It’s a high-density polymer—it will absorb most impact damage and reduce the likelihood of you getting shot.
Simon’s mental voice carried a trace of amusement.

It’s really black and really tight and it makes my boobs look big.

He turned around to stare at her, his brow knitting.
Your breasts look very nice.

The corner of her mouth twitched up.
I didn’t say it was a bad thing. Besides, you’re supposed to be watching them and not me.
She winked. It was juvenile to appreciate his attention, even at a time like this, but she liked that he noticed.

Really liked it.

Simon turned back to the factory.
I promise I will pay a great deal more attention to your breasts later.

She didn’t laugh.

But damn she wanted to. Biting her lip, she cut a look at Rory. The solemnity in her expression sobered Amanda’s amusement. She caught Rory’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “We will get tall, dark and pissy back. I promise.”

“I know.” Absolute certainty molded the words. “I got you back. I’ll get him.”

Their fingers interlaced and, for a few seconds, they were teens again—ready to face the world and take on all its ills. God, they were a pair, the two of them. Hopeless idealists.

Not hopeless—hopeful.

“It’s time.” Garrett spoke and the three men moved. They walked toward the facility, steady, calm and in control. It was something to behold. They didn’t rush, there was no noise echoing across the cold, crisp day. Three powerful, very masculine men striding across a frozen moment in time.

“That’s hot.” Amanda nodded and bit her lip. “And I am still queen of the inappropriate.”

“Nah. I like that you like him. I like it even more that he likes you. He’s a good guy. You deserve that.” Rory’s soft endorsement startled her.

“Really?”

“Yep. Surprised me that he has it in him to deal with your freaky self. He’s so controlled, but I guess you warm him up.” The teasing note dragged a little, forcing lightness, but Rory gave her hand a squeeze letting her know she meant it.

“He’s got a little freak of his own—”

Ladies, you both have open coms.
Simon’s prim reprimand jerked Amanda’s gaze to Rory’s. Their eyes widened and their giggle-snorts of laughter echoed each other perfectly.

Rory lifted her brows, hands held about four inches apart in question. Amanda adjusted them and made a double fist. They both laughed, but the mirth abandoned them at the first shout from below.

Perimeter penetrated. You’re a go.

Amanda firmed her grip on Rory’s hand and took off. They went airborne and she jetted over to the roof. One guard gaped up at them, but Rory dropped, taking him down in two fast blows. Amanda landed and burned through the door. They followed the stairs down. Rory took the lead. Explosions rocked the sides of the building and they paused outside a door as a dozen feet pounded past.

Glancing out, Amanda grimaced.
Factory, my right ass cheek.
Beyond the grimy metal door they peeked through stood a white walled hospital wing. Her stomach rolled. It was disgustingly familiar. Men and women in white coats worked, oblivious to the storm of battle echoing along the fringes of the building. She saw only two guards.

She held up two fingers and then eight. Two guards, eight doctors. Rory nodded. Another explosion and the whole building trembled.

Simon?

We found the fuel tanks. They’re about to lose power—
The lights cut off. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the dark, but Rory was already through the door. She gave her a few seconds, hard hits and grunts drifted back to her. Lighting up her hands, she wasn’t surprised to see everyone unconscious.

“Looks like holding cells back there.” Rory pointed to the far wall and they moved across the room.

Each door featured a one-foot square pane of reinforced observation glass. The first four rooms were empty. The fifth housed—something. Amanda stared at the dark blob writhing on the floor. Rory tapped the side of her head. Ask Simon.

Look through my eyes.
She told him. Her lover brushed through her like a warm breeze, his mental touch so familiar and welcome. Consternation colored his thoughts.

No idea. Leave it be.

Amanda flicked a hand across her throat and Rory nodded. They moved on to the next cell. Empty.

Empty.

Empty.

The last door however showed a man tethered to a wall. His wrists were strung up and his legs were similarly shackled to the floor. Blood stained the wall behind him. His haggard appearance and unkempt hair were dirty and a scraggly beard clung to his cheeks. The door was sealed.

“Back off,” Amanda warned Rory and she cut her way through the door, shearing off the bolts securing it and the hinges. The door fell with a thump and Rory entered ahead of her. She made it all the way to the man and lifted his face.

Ronan.

He stared at them, disbelieving. “Get out of here.” His voice was a ragged whisper. “It’s a trap for you two.”

The building shook and the walls trembled. At the rate the Boomers advanced, nothing would be left of this building.

“You first, sweetie.” Amanda burned through his chains and he collapsed, nearly taking Rory down with him. As he bent over, sickness boiled up through Amanda. His back bore two ragged, bloody stumps where his wings should have been.

Emphasis on
should have
.

“They cut them off, to see them re-grow.” He made it sound benign, as though they were discussing the weather. Rory shifted his weight and draped one of his arms over her shoulder. Amanda mirrored her, taking the other. Ronan wasn’t light.

We have Ronan, Simon. We’re going to have to come down. He can’t fly.

Drake is almost to you.
As if on cue, the strongman tore open a pair of hydraulic doors on the opposite end of the lab. Ronan’s legs dragged, but he tried to walk—leaning heavily on both of them. At least he wasn’t insane.

Or maybe they all were.

“Ronan, were Josh and Curtis here?” Rory demanded.

“Yes—the fuckers. They talked to the lab techs and to Fizz and then left again. Fizz showed me the video. He wanted me to know none of you were coming. I’m the last holdout.” He laughed a little and his arms tightened around Amanda’s neck, squeezing. “Sorry I was such a fucking bore for you two.”

Pain seized her and he slammed Amanda right into Rory. Their heads collided and agony blossomed across her vision. She brought up a hand, but found herself flying backwards until she slammed into a wall. Rory ducked his swing and came up with an uppercut and a slam of her foot into his torso. The dark angel reacted with a battle cry. Drake picked up his pace and rushed him. The two came together in a crash.

Blood slicked Ronan’s back, but the powerful muscles in his arms and chest flexed. He blocked Drake’s first strike and took the second to his jaw, staggering him. His jaw clenched and he pushed himself forward, but Rory cut between them, sweeping his legs and he went down. She didn’t slow, landing on his back and wrapping her legs around his middle, arms going rigid around his throat in a choke hold.

Shoving up with his legs, Ronan leapt for the ceiling—crashing Rory into it. A light fixture shattered, showering them with glass. He hit the ground and jumped again, driving her into the hard metal fixtures and she lost her grip. Catching her around the waist, he twisted and threw her toward the wall. Drake caught her, slowing her momentum.

Howling, Ronan raced at them and Amanda caught him full in the chest with a blast that blew him backwards. He slammed into a research table, cracking it. Her eyes flamed to life and power hummed around her. She planted herself in his path.

“We came to rescue you, prick. Knock it off.”

“Bullshit,” he spit. “I’ve been here for six fucking months while they ripped my wings off again and again, and now you just happen to show up…”

Rory cough and spat blood to the side. “She was a prisoner at a facility in New York. You wanna be pissed at someone, be pissed at me. I’ve been looking for both of you.”

Cold fury filled Ronan’s face. He lunged and the full force of a table swung by Drake caught him across the face and chest. Ronan dropped and didn’t get up. He dragged the angel up and threw him over a shoulder. “Time to go, ladies.”

“What about them?” Rory pointed to the unconscious scientists.

“We don’t have time for them. Reinforcements are on the way. We have your teammate and the computer files. Now we go.” He strode toward the door and Rory looked back.

“Roar, we’ll find them, but we have to go now,” Amanda wheezed. She could have gone her whole life without hitting the wall. Rory bled from a dozen cuts along her scalp and one ugly gash that followed her eyebrow line.

“Everything falls apart, the center cannot hold. Fucking Chinua Achebe.” Rory spit and pivoted on her heel. They hurried after Drake. They weren’t totally clear and a dozen security guards had to be dealt with before they made it back out into the icy snow. But they were deep into the woods when the helicopters buzzed over the area.

An explosion rocked the earth and, behind them, the vodka factory went up in a plume of smoke and fiery debris. Amanda stared at the thick cloud of smoke rising toward the sky in horror. “We didn’t?”

Simon caught her hand. “No, that was a missile. They cleaned up their mess.”

“But there were still people in there…”

We can’t do anything about it now…

She hated admitting he was right. Hated the sense of helplessness it left her with, but they didn’t have time for sorrow now. Maybe they never would. She allowed herself one look back and then let him draw her away. They had a long hike to where they’d left the small plane. They had Ronan back. She was back.

Her gaze fell on Rory.

But at what cost? She told her they would get them back, but what the hell did she know?

Don’t give up hope, sweetheart. Never give it up. She hasn’t. She hurts and she’s angry, but she hasn’t lost hope. I promise you.

The words helped.

But only a little.

Three days later…

Simon studied the data they’d reconstructed from the factory files. Much of it documented experiments, similar data to the files they rescued from R.E.X.. More shadowy funding and a greater still ambiguous purpose—in fact the most pertinent data they found included two facilities in South America and a third one located somewhere in South Korea. Like a Russian puzzle box, each layer they peeled back revealed another.

And still no sign of Michael or Rex. Simon’s scans came up empty, time and again. He genuinely feared for their lives. But searching populations in the billions meant he just had to keep looking. A pair of warm feminine arms wrapped around his neck. “You know they could be keeping them on the move.”

“What?” He glanced to the side.

“I was thinking about it earlier, while I was trying to get through Ronan’s thick skull. They moved me…a lot. I can’t be sure of all the places they took me, because they all kind of looked alike. But if Josh is working with them, he knows what all of you can do. He has to know you might be able to do a mental track. If you don’t know where to look, you do a grid search. All they have to do is keep them on the move—kind of makes it suck for you.” The simple observation was hardly comforting and yet, it offered a far better alternative to death.

He nudged the chair back and pulled her around to sit in his lap. She gave him a small smile. Her mind was far from fully healed and the physical damage still remained an issue, but Ilsa continued to work on it. Simon could hold her together, her mind synced to his so beautifully now it was more of an effort to separate himself from her.

The results of the DNA test were inconclusive. Ilsa lost most of the data to the house detonation, and she’d still been running test models. She promised to repeat it as soon as she had the right equipment and they all had time.

Right now, he didn’t care if his chip matched her or not. The absurd idea that they needed that compatibility to make it work was very far afield.

“You’re very far away,” she murmured against his ear. She curled into him, tucking her legs over the arm of the chair and resting her head against his shoulder.

“How is Rory?” She’d spent a lot of time with her best friend when they weren’t taking turns talking Ronan down. Ilsa medicated him to take away his pain, and he still wasn’t completely convinced of their loyalty, but he wasn’t attacking anymore. So, small steps. Oddly enough, Drake took a shine to the man and they spoke at regular intervals.