Under Pressure

by Zoë Normandie

  “You don’t need military guys, Lily—especially not SEALs.” Kendra let out a short laugh. “Stay away from the lab and stay safe. I’ll call you later.”

  As she ended the call, she realized that it was much later in the day than she’d hoped. Driving anywhere in Southern California takes forever, Kendra scoffed as she glanced at the time, irritated. Guilt crept up as she realized yet again that she was leaving Leo for longer than she’d like. Sienna was as dedicated as a caregiver could be, but Kendra wanted to be with her son every minute of the day.

  “This is the last time,” Kendra grumbled to herself, promising that she just needed to find out that one bit of information—and she’d be done. She owed it to Leo to find it out.

  As she waited, her car idling in front of the gate, she tried to not fidget. Straightening her pencil skirt, she cranked her rear-view mirror down to check her lip balm. Nervous, exasperated, she had no idea how the plan was going to go.

  The gated SEAL base loomed before her, unfriendly and exclusive. She knew what it looked like inside. She’d been there before. That was where she’d met Delta. That helped—because she was about to do something really risky, something she’d only do if she were desperate.

  She was going into the lion’s den.

  After what felt like too long, a guard that looked like he was Naval enlisted walked out of the gate and lazily sidled up to her car—as if they didn’t get many visitors. She rolled down her window as he approached, ready to drop her tin on him.

  “Good evening, ma’am”—the guard leaned in, not removing his sunglasses as he inspected her and the inside of her car—“how can I help?”

  She drew her badge up, catching his gaze. As slick as possible, she kept her story circumspect.

  “I have a meeting. It won’t take long.”

  The guard raised his eyebrow, not convinced. “A meeting—with whom?”

  She opened her mouth, but before she could answer, a man she just barely recognized peered around a doorway in the fence and called off the guard. It was Chief Warren Cameron, one of Delta’s closest friends. His reddish hair was glistening under the hot Southern California sun. She hadn’t seen him since the day she’d met Delta—right here on the compound. He raised his arm, waving at her, instructing her to drive through.

  As the guard stood back, the gate opened slowly, which gave Kendra the necessary time to wipe the distress off her face. Nodding at the guard and trying to remain calm, she drove into the compound, not missing a beat. Something eerie crawled up her spine as she entered, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

  Military guys were still milling about as she parked her car next to the main building—metal and stone, as nondescript as one might expect for an off-the-grid facility. A few guys shot her questioning glances as she stepped out of her car, wondering what the hell she was about to learn.

  Warren marched up to her from the gate. As he got closer, she observed his bright blue eyes that sharpened as his tall form came to stand firmly in front of her.

  “It’s been a while,” he said, his face dead serious, “Kendra.”

  “Thanks for calling me.” Kendra bit her lip, trying not to look as anxious as she fiddled with her bag. “I have to admit that I was surprised to hear from you.”

  “I was surprised that it came to this as well,” Warren said slowly, never taking his eyes off her. His intense, assessing gaze reminded her of one other SEAL she knew.

  “You said you have something to show me?” she asked, trying to understand what Warren was playing at.

  He paused, narrowing his eyes on her.

  “My understanding is that you’ve been seeing Delta again since our last rotation back. Is that accurate?”

  “It’s been a little off and on.” Kendra nodded quickly, shifting in her heels. “More off than on.”

  Warren gave her an understanding look—pensive and reflective. There was obvious concern in his eyes.

  “He trusts you,” he stated, desert wind blowing sandy dirt up into their faces.

  She tilted her head, a little surprised. “Why do you think that is?”

  “He doesn’t fuck around. If he’s been with you, he trusts you,” Warren pressed. “That means I can, too.”

  Her lips parted. She was taken aback. That was antithetic to everything she’d come to believe.

  Warren continued, “Does he seem different to you since he’s been back?”

  “Yes,” she breathed, barely in a whisper.

  He leaned in, lowering his voice, “If you could help him, would you?”

  “Yes,” she replied without hesitation.

  “Me too. Come with me,” Warren said, turning on his heel and marching intently toward the compound’s main doors.

  Kendra had no idea what awaited her, but she didn’t want to fall behind. Her heels grinding into the packed dirt underneath her, she stumbled toward the doors. He ushered her into the building, swiping his access card off his utility belt, bypassing any security protocols to get her in. Kendra followed, surprised. He struck her as a man who lived and died by the rules.

  Down a long, shadowy hallway, even darker in the setting sun, he stopped halfway and turned back to her. He closed the distance between them, leaving only a foot of space. Leaning down, in a hushed, nearly inaudible voice, the Special Warfare Operator spoke.

  “You are a scientist?”

  “I don’t know if I deserve that title.” She tilted her head, perplexed. “I’m just a shelved cop who likes to play in the lab. Why?”

  Looking troubled, Warren continued, “There’s something that’s been going on behind my back, something I’ve just been made aware of. He’s not going to like that I’ve brought you here, but I’ve run out of options.”

  “Okay.” She bit her lip, hesitant. “I’m not sure what I can do.”

  “I need a scientist right now—one I can trust.”

  Before she could ask what the fuck he was talking about, the chief had already turned and marched toward a door, which he flung open and ushered her through. As Kendra crested the entrance to the room, she realized she was entering a room filled with…SEALs. They were leaning into a long conference table, watching her as she stepped in. Her heels clicked on the floor, the only sound echoing in the room. The whole thing was almost like an out-of-body experience, and she almost stopped breathing as she avoided the gazes of the intense men.

  He motioned for her to sit at an empty spot near the front.

  “She was never here,” he shot down the table, a clear threat in his tone. “What happens in this room stays in this room. Any questions?”

  No one challenged him, telling Kendra that Warren had the most authority.

  Kendra immediately sat, continuing to look away from the table. The tone in the space was cold. She had been undercover enough times to know how to play on the fly—but this was different. She was sharing a table with fifteen trained killers.

  Heat rose up her neck as the chief began speaking again. He moved to stand at the smartboard near the front, where a presentation was waiting. She sat with her hands in her lap, taking no notes, making no noise. Something about the tension in the room told her there was a big problem.

  “We’ve all worked our asses off to be here,” Warren started, standing firmly at the top of the table. “We’ve all tried every fucking program to make us stronger, fitter…better operators.” He paused, looking around at heads nodding, and continued, “And that’s why I have to share this with you.”

  Warren leaned over to the laptop on the desk, clicked a button and straightened up again to point to the images that had flashed across the presentation screen. She realized that it was a photocopy of a partially shredded lab report, signed by someone styled as a doctor. He flipped through sequences of RNA, getting to the Cas9 protein. Her mouth dropped open when she got what they were talking about.

  “We find ourselves in a new era,” Warren thundered down the table, “one where scientists are trying to enhance ou
r biological abilities. They’re trying to give us heightened advantage at the apex of battle. Power, focus, aggression—a thousand times more potent and a thousand times more dangerous. Yes, it’s the plot to a bad sci-fi movie, but this is really happening.”

  Warren’s line of sight lingered on one or two of the younger-looking SEALs, before turning back to the smartboard.

  Kendra parted her lips, her brain running at a thousand miles per minute. She analyzed the data on the screen. This is the missing piece of the puzzle.

  “They are using the virus to edit genes,” she muttered to herself in disbelief. “I didn’t think we were there yet.”

  Warren spun to her. “This makes sense to you?”

  She stood, nearly trembling, analyzing the RNA sequence. She hadn’t stepped foot in the Harvard lab, but Lily had told her about what they’d accomplished there. They’d figured out how to edit genes, triggering the edits via lab-made viruses, ingested by pill.

  “The doxycycline… I didn’t think it was possible.” She shook her head in complete disbelief. “It wasn’t just for malaria. It was to trigger the edits.”

  Warren nodded at her, continuing to explain to the group, “A few of my men were approached under false pretenses, pretending this experimentation was approved and good to go. These scientists are desperate for test dummies—in the form of living, breathing operators. They want you.”

  All the guys at the table grew quiet, and the air became heavy.

  A guy sitting across from Kendra looked around in disbelief and questioned, “Is the Navy behind these tests?”

  “Not a fucking chance,” Warren replied, firm. “The Navy has no idea that this…this is what they are doing behind their back.”

  “Who are they?” Another fierce SEAL chimed in, spinning a bullet in his scarred fingers.

  Warren put his hands down on the table, looking down at the guy then at his men.

  “The scientists. Research and Development Group. But don’t bother looking them up because you won’t find anything. They are ghosts. They work in secret, to create and sell products to the military. Their latest product is trying to edit us, trying to build the best of the best.”

  “How did you get this?” The same SEAL nodded to the signed report on screen, detailing the tests.

  “Delta,” Warren replied. “He’s put himself at great risk to stop this insanity.”

  Kendra remained still, trying to absorb it all. Her fears rose, proving that she’d been right all along. The victims’ blood had all had traces of this, but she’d never have believed that this was what it was. It was too outlandish. But she had to believe it because she’d seen it with her own eyes. She’d seen those enhanced abilities just as described—potent and dangerous—in one man.

  “Can you help?” Warren turned to her.

  “What do you want from me?”

  “An antidote. A reversal.”

  She stood firm and stared Warren down before looking at the kilodalton protein structure again. Genetic editing. She doubted even Lily or the Harvard lab knew how to reverse it.

  “What did they do to him?”

  “You’ll have to ask him.” He let out a low breath, averting his gaze.

  With a curt nod, he rapped his knuckles on the table, indicating the meeting was concluded. He huddled over the table, flipping through papers and answering questions one-on-one. As the others stood from the table, pushing back their chairs, Kendra turned on her heel and moved out. She needed to process. She needed space.

  Walking down the hall, back toward the entrance, she kept looking over her shoulder. She was absolutely incensed that Delta had never told her the truth—a truth that big. They’d clearly changed him in ways she’d never imagined. If this all held true for him, it meant that he’d literally edited his genome, his very being. The vision of his menacing frame, aggressive and powerful—and the scars on his body, the mask he wore at night—flushed into her mind. He had been changed, permanently. And now he couldn’t control it.

  As every man in the hall slowly drifted away, she was left alone with her fury. The hall grew quiet, and the setting sun cast a startling tone to the already-worrying atmosphere. Her heels clicked as she fell a few steps backward, sucking in air. Kendra took a deep breath, her mind spinning. She had to get out of there.

  Stepping out of the front entrance, the last rays of the setting sun fell on her, the only light left in the facility. The high walls surrounding the compound cast long, dark shadows everywhere else. Not far away, her car was slowly becoming consumed by a darkness that unnerved her. That same eerie feeling she’d felt coming in was with her as she started moving to her car. She needed to get the hell out.

  Her heels once again dug into the packed dirt as she moved to find her car, questioning everything she’d just learned. A familiar wave of anger hit her harder this time, and she bit her lip, feeling tears springing. It was all too much. Finally, as she found herself in the shadows beside her car, she looked back one final time at the building.

  What the fucking hell am I going to do?

  Then, she saw it—

  Or him, to be specific.

  Delta’s unmistakable muscular form exited the side of the building, slipping off in the opposite direction—toward the motor pool, well in the shadows. He strode across the motor pool toward a desert-sand-colored HMMWV—or Humvee—parked off to the side.

  He’s here?

  She grew hot, enraged, as she stared at a man she recognized but barely knew. Whatever was screaming in the back of her mind faded into the distance. All she felt was pure, unadulterated anger.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  He was losing control. He could feel it, Delta admitted it to himself as he walked through the shadows of the motor pool toward the HMMWV. His arms surged with aggression, ready to fight, ready to rip heads off. The constant need to escalate and the need for violence rose within him, and it was unescapable.

  Because he’d been triggered.

  He’d seen Kendra enter that boardroom. He had been down the hall—in the shadows, prepping for his next steps.

  Now she knows.

  Warren had overstepped. That wasn’t what the plan had been. They’d agreed he’d warn the guys, but Warren had left out the last little detail—that he’d called in Kendra, too. Delta had made it clear that it was something he was going to handle in his own way. Betrayal ran up his throat, his walls closing in. There was no turning back now.

  She’d never look at him the same.

  Reaching behind into his waistband, he pulled out the nine-mil pistol he kept there, ready to cock it. Tonight was the night. Delta was going to deal with his problems once and for all. The scientists were getting a wakeup call. No one was going to have the same fate as him. He was going to do it his way—no cops, no records, just fucking pain.

  Something snapped in his brain, a changing chemistry he could feel, accompanied by a deep, burning anger he couldn’t get rid of. He felt a tangible loss. The price he’d paid was too high for anyone else. No more soldiers were going to die, not on his watch.

  Grinding his teeth together, he whipped down the rear hatch of the HMMWV, exposing the long bed. He placed the pistol on the empty bed. It was time to kit up for the night, in the darkness, silently and alone. He had no one left. Throwing on a tactical belt, and plated armor across his chest, he adjusted the Velcro straps.

  Then he heard it—or felt it, would be more precise. Kendra’s presence. An icy heat pumped through his muscles, engorging them. His fighter instinct heightened, and he was in full switch mode—ready to go.

  Spinning quietly in the long shadow of the lowering sun, he observed her slinking into the motor pool, her eyes locked on him. He should have known she would come find him. She was persistent. Her stealthy form struck him, challenged him, and he clenched his jaw. Watching her, he leaned against the HMMWV, crossing his arms. He had to get rid of her before he did something he didn’t want to do.

  It was the wrong fucki
ng time.

  “Get the fuck out of here,” he thundered as she approached, closing the distance between them. Only one thing flashed across his mind.

  Silently, she kept walking toward him, stopping only feet away. He sensed the burning anger. The hatred. It was real that time, and it was exactly what he feared. She had learned his secret. She knew what he was. She hated him for it.

  “Leave,” he rejected her, and spun to march around the HMMWV, sending a clear message.

  It was all he could do, he realized, as he tightened his arms over his chest. She darted behind him, her own gait much smaller than his large cadence, breaching the distance he needed.

  “You should have told me!” she barked.

  “And you shouldn’t have fucking come here…behind my goddamn back.”

  Halting at the driver’s door of the HMMWV, he twisted, fuming, realizing she was right fucking there—a foot behind him, within arm’s reach.

  Goddamn, she was furiously sexy. His cock twitched and his mind raced, screaming at him to stop. He took in her clever, angry eyes. She’d finally put it all together—and that put her in jeopardy.

  Breathing down hot fire on her, he seethed, “You betrayed me.”

  “What choice did I have?” Her voice cracked as she lit into him. “Hell, you don’t even know how fucked up you even are, do you?”

  “I’m fucked up. That’s all that matters.” His body formed a hard wall—unmovable, untouchable.

  That familiar impulse hit him, and his ability to resist was slipping. He needed to fuck her. He needed her to get the fuck away.

  She broke, outraged. “Why did you do it? Why did you let them test it on you?”

  “Why?” He snapped and his muscles flexed. He was already livid. “Because I wanted to be better.”

  “And are you…? Are you really better now?” she cried out, obviously needing no answer. “Look what has happened to you. Look what you’ve become!”

  As her voice crept higher, more enraged with each word, he tensed. The muscles in his arms contracted, like their own beast, and he found himself gripping the mirror on the side of HMMWV, grasping harder at whatever humanity he had left.