Deadly Genesis (Boomers Book 2) (4 page)

“What?”

“I see a woman who takes unnecessary risks—who doesn’t rely on her team, but yet uses them as her excuse for every action. Teamwork requires sacrificing your ego for your team’s safety. It means making hard choices and working together, it doesn’t mean rushing into a confrontation guns blazing because you might have intel or you might not get there in time. One way or another, we will get Dark Angel back. Not just for you, but because it is the right thing to do.”

“You realize, by that logic, I would never have scaled the roof that day and come after you when you took that shot?” She dared him to take her to task for that.

“You nearly died twice that day.” He growled.

“Yeah, but you saved me the first time. The second too, come to think of it.” She grinned and nuzzled his jaw. “How about a compromise?”

“Define compromise.”

“Well, in the time we live in currently, it means I give a little and you give a little. Not Michael makes the rules and Rory says ‘yes, sir.’”

He grunted, but a hint of a smile flickered at the edge of his gorgeous mouth. “And what compromise are you proposing?”

“I’ll call. If I head off or get intel or need to be on scene somewhere here or elsewhere, I will notify you first. You can come play my black knight in shining weaponry.”

Brow furrowing, he appeared to consider it. “You won’t wait though?”

“No. If the matter is urgent and can’t wait, then I won’t. But I will do my best to get you that head’s up as soon as possible.”

He exhaled a long ‘grrr’ of noise. It was a lot like Lurch, only a hell of a lot sexier. “That’s not a compromise.”

“Yes, it is. Because I don’t even call my team unless I really think they need to be there. I can blend in most situations. Dark Angel and Corkscrew don’t blend. Josh tries but, if he gets pissed, his temper generates air currents and that leaves Curtis. He’s is more of a stick in the mud than you are. So, when it comes to flying point, that’s my job.”

“That’s the point, Rory.” He growled, and she could almost hear his urge to shake her, but his grip only gentled. “Your job is different now. We’re a different team.”

“Yeah? I’m the hand-to-hand specialist. I still know this turf a whole lot better than the rest of you. You still need to stay below the radar, maybe more so now that we’ve kicked over the hornet’s nest than before. You don’t blend, none of you do. So how has my job changed?”

He opened his mouth, but the phone ringing interrupted his response. Letting her go, he retreated to look at the screen and swore.

“Take it.” She told him, exhaling. It wasn’t like they could solve their differences overnight. If someone told her she would fall in love with a man as stubborn and controlling as her, she would have laughed. “I need to shower anyway, before I stiffen up.”

The arch look he favored her with warmed her blood and she grinned. “And Michael?”

“One moment,” he said into the phone and hit the mute button. “Yes?”

“I love you.”

Sighing, he closed the distance and slid a hand against her cheek before slanting his lips over hers. The sweet kiss electrified her, and she melted against him. He rested his forehead against hers. “I love you, too. More than you know.”

“We’ll make this work.” Dammit, she could compromise.

“We will.” He gave her bottom a light smack. “Go shower. I’ll be back in a few.”

He strode away, phone to his ear, and she stepped under the hot spray, hissing as it hit the cuts and bruises. With him out of sight, she could sag against the wall. Her ribs were one gigantic set of bruises. Bracing her hands on the wall, she forced her way under the full brunt of the spray. The beating with the sack of fruit had spread out the damage, reducing visible bruising—but it also meant she took a hell of a lot more than she let on. Her focus on the downloading thumb drive had been the only thing that kept her cognizant in that long thirty-minute interval between her capture and the arrival of Michael and the Boomers.

A mental knock tapped at her consciousness. She sighed and buried the exasperation and pain. Thank God she could compartmentalize.
Yes, Simon?

I have questions about Amanda. Would you be willing to answer them?

As much as I’m able,
she agreed. She kept her movements limited to avoid inciting pain while Simon touched her mind. Unfortunately, the Boomers’ first loyalty extended to each other. He would tell Michael.

She had no doubt.

In a few days, she would be fine and she could cover until then.

What is The Program?

She went completely still. Why the hell would he ask about The Program?
That’s not really about Amanda…

No. It’s about how the two of you
—
and I’m assuming the rest of your team
—
met. So what is “The Program”?

Lying with Simon in her mind wouldn’t be easy. Did she really need to lie?
I will answer, but to both you and Michael. I haven’t discussed it with him, and I’m not comfortable telling you and not him.
She’d just bought herself some time.

Very well. Amanda is sleeping. We can talk when you’re done showering.
Not much time, apparently.

He withdrew from her mind, and she tipped her head back to stare at the ceiling. She trusted them—all of them—with her life. She trusted them with Amanda’s safety. The Boomers were paranoid, and they had damn good reasons to be.

Telling them about The Program could cost her their trust.

Then again, what choice did she have?

Lying would definitely have deeper repercussions.

“Fuck me.” She reached for the shampoo then scrubbed her hair and tried to work out all the possibilities in her mind.

* * * *

“What did you find?” Michael studied the computer screen in front of Rex. The shapeshifter shook his head slowly.

“It’s not what I found, it’s what I didn’t find. Look.” He sat forward and typed into the computer. Blueprints appeared. “This is the layout for a holding facility, but it’s also…” He tapped forward to the next image. “Mobile, I think. The main blueprints detail security, fail-safes, fallback measures, and containment. The secondary set shows only where it fits inside a fortress. It’s like having an inner schematic without the one that tells you where it is.”

Scowling, Michael planted his hands on the desk and studied each image as Rex scrolled through them. “Is this all we’ve gotten from the decryption so far?”

“Yeah, but it’s about fifty gigs of data, so we’ll be a while even with this program. I can run the schematics past Rory. Maybe she’s seen something like this and can give us a frame of reference.”

“No.” Michael straightened and shook his head. He wouldn’t give her another target to fling herself at, not yet. They would do the necessary research first.

“Okay.” The shifter elongated the first syllable and leaned back in the chair to look at him. “I thought we were in full disclosure mode, Captain.”

“We are, but we have nothing to disclose at this point.” She would likely argue with him, if she knew. He saw the mottled marks of bruises up her side and across her back. They were a heavy red, which meant they were very fresh. His heart squeezed painfully every time he recalled hitting the door to that room and seeing the man with a gun pointed at her head. He would have killed him in that instant, if he hadn’t worried about whether or not a death spasm would pull the trigger.

Thankfully, the distraction had made the gun waver, a piece of good fortune. Unfortunately, luck wasn’t a quantifiable commodity they could apply to every situation. His team went in blind, and he’d do it again if he knew Rory needed them, but it was better for everyone if they took the time to plan. She was young, reckless, and too eager to test the boundaries of her own mortality.

“She’s going to ask; do you want me to lie?”

Michael ignored the pointed snark in the Cajun’s drawled question. “Decrypt the rest. We’ll review the material and decide on a course of action before we bring it to Rory’s team.”

“Hey, Captain, not going to tell you your business…” Rex pushed out of the chair and stood.

“Then don’t.” Michael didn’t like it, either. But Rory didn’t appreciate a chain of command. Her feckless behavior could get her killed. He couldn’t live with that. He wouldn’t.

“…yeah, here’s the thing. I had a wife. You can tell yourself all the stories you want about protecting her, but if you start lying to her and keeping secrets, you’re inviting a lot of problems into your relationship. If you think it’s hard now, wait till she doesn’t trust you at all. Then where will you be?” Rex tapped two more keys. “Think about it. I’m going to go check on our guests and then help Drake with repairs.”

The shifter didn’t wait for a response from Michael and left. Curling his fingers into a fist, Michael stared up at the ceiling. He usually hated being away from her, but as angry as he was with her at the moment, it seemed a more prudent course of action to keep his distance. He’d been ten minutes away when she took off for Canada. If he hadn’t planted a tracker in her boots, the team would have been too far away when her call for help came in.

She didn’t understand the risks she took. Insisting on maintaining her patrols in the city, she went out regularly and dealt with everything from random muggings to researching disappearances.
It’s what heroes are supposed to do, Michael. We fight the fights that need fighting.

Heroes.

The word held very little meaning for him and maybe, just maybe, that was the problem. The Boomers kept themselves isolated on purpose. They didn’t want to change too much in the past or reveal themselves to anyone who might stop them—like Rory and her team of heroes. The blind streak of idealism flowing through her was remarkable and quaint. But there was no time for it, the Boomers’ mission parameters were clear. Stop, at all costs, the rise of Hans Geiger to power, the outlawing of heroes and the incarceration of anyone with mutations.

Her actions flaunted her abilities to the world. If she wanted a good look at the consequences, she needed to spend more time with her rescued friend.
What if they take her next time?
The very thought filled him with rage, matched only by the fury he experienced when her friend Josh had swept her away from the warehouse in a swirling cloud of air. He still didn’t particularly care for Josh and the feeling remained mutual.

Without a doubt, he would bring Rory home—as long as there was a Rory still alive for him to find. A headache inched around his skull, a constricting pressure that threatened to crack the bone.
Simon?

I can look into her mind, but that violates her privacy, Captain.
The gentle rebuke killed the question before he could even ask it.

She doesn’t understand.
But then how could she? Michael didn’t understand it, the visceral, gut-churning need to be with her and the almost homicidal urge to keep her safe at all costs. The doctor had discovered elements of Rory’s DNA encoded in the bioware chip in Michael’s brain. She theorized the genetic compatibility linked him and Rory together, but this went beyond science or human chemistry. He’d never felt this way about anyone, not even his team and they were owed his first loyalty.

No, she questions our certainty with reason. She lives with the hope for the future every day, the promise of possibility. Weren’t you trying to embrace that philosophy?

He wanted to. By all that was holy, he wanted to feel that way.
I try, and then I remember the cells we found Garrett in the mass graves, the burnt out buildings, and the empty silence where life used to be. I can’t have a promise for the future until I know Geiger is eradicated.
Geiger destroyed his world, turned it into a cesspit where corporations fed like leeches on the wasting body of the populace. The eradication of the superhero was but a step in the domino apocalypse threatening to consume them all.

We have found no evidence of Hans Geiger in Rory’s life and we looked. She was raised by Jonathon and Mary Graystone.
Simon didn’t tell him anything he didn’t know. But she bore no physical resemblance to her parents at all. The wealthy couple may be providing all the funding behind the Infinity Corporation and lavishing their only child with everything she could desire, but they weren’t her biological parents.

He would bet his life on it.

Michael…
Simon’s mental sigh echoed audibly in Michael’s ears.
Without evidence, you can’t confront her with that. She may have secrets, but her lineage isn’t one of them. If she is adopted, she doesn’t know.

I know. Leave it alone for now. We’ll continue to investigate. But if she’s Geiger’s daughter, she is the key.
Their information told them she was the child of Hans Geiger. Although he didn’t doubt her belief that she wasn’t, if she didn’t know, then it might be better to keep it that way.

Unfortunately, I cannot leave it alone. Something Amanda thought about when she wanted to talk to Rory has been bothering me. Rory’s response to my inquiry says it is as serious as I think it is.

Resisting the urge to punch his fist at the table, Michael left the private office and sealed the locks. They hadn’t invited Rory or Ilsa into the watch station, and he doubted either realized it was even there. He headed for the stairs.
What inquiry?

It seems Amanda met Rory while they were both in “The Program.” Do you know what that is?

A cold chill gripped his spine.
No. The only program I know of is the one that turned us into Boomers.

Exactly. She wouldn’t explain until she could tell us both.

Son of a bitch. He took the stairs three at a time. The hunt for answers seemed to be a blessing and a curse, particularly when every question they answered uncovered more mysteries. He found Rory padding out of the bathroom, wrapped in one towel while she dried her hair with another. Her small smile hit him like a sledgehammer. She really was perfect in every way.