Dead and Damaged (The Endangered Series Book 2)

by S. L. Eaves

  “So these vampires distrust you because of your involvement with us, but they are working with humans, too.” Abrams leans back in his chair, balancing it on two legs. “Seems hypocritical, doesn’t it?”

  I nod. “Difference is, they believe we’re killing their kind—my kind. And that Brixton wants to join forces. Which she does. Like I mentioned, she tried to get me to turn her. Though she doesn’t strike me as a team player. Changing her approach and working with vampires was clever. She found just the right ally in Marcus; he’s already got it out for me. Though they will probably kill one another before this all ends.”

  “You think?”

  I shrug, light a cigarette, offer him one; he accepts though I can tell by his scent that he doesn’t usually smoke.

  “He is a man who likes power and control. I’m certain he just wants her technology. He’ll dispose of her when the time is right.”

  “And the group of vampires that freed you, they are afraid of this Marcus guy? They believe him?”

  “We don’t oppose our own kind. Not fear so much as respect. And there are only a handful of us left as it is. An internal conflict could mean the end of our kind. You see, Marcus is old, powerful, and respected. I’m basically a newbie. I’m a lot harder to trust and I’ve got very little…street cred, for lack of a better term. Especially with my maker gone.

  “Which is why pinning everything on me would be more…efficient, and prevent an all-out clan war.

  “However, I tend to feel pinning everything on Brixton and her human allies would be the better way to go. Hence, why I’m here asking for help getting out of the mess you threw me into.”

  I smile, exhaling smoke at the ceiling.

  “And no, they don’t all believe Marcus over me. Vega claims Brixton killed some of his comrades through experimentation.”

  I lean forward, hands spread across the table. “And I know I didn’t kill them. So I tend to believe him.”

  “Which is why they were investigating her out in Alaska, same as us?”

  I nod. “So I’m not sure where they stand at this point, but I highly doubt Marcus has convinced all of them to jump on the Trion Group’s bandwagon. Marcus is with her now, which means she’s probably been turned—or will be soon. It would go against our laws, but Marcus only pretends strict adherence to the old laws when it suits him. He is very much a hypocrite, I’ve come to learn.”

  “So we have a dangerous PMC being operated by vampires. This day just keeps getting better.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Abrams rocks in his seat. “I want to bring down Trion. But I’m short on manpower and my funding has been cut pending the investigation into the failed operation. The support I had internally is gone. Tends to happen when you get a bunch of good men killed. I got the wrong sort of attention from people higher up in the pipeline.”

  “Thought you were a director?”

  “I am. But we’ve all got people above us. And as it stands, I’m not sure if I can garner enough backing to launch a new mission.” He scratches the whiskers of his five o’clock shadow. The man looks as if he hasn’t slept in days.

  “I am sorry about that, truly. I was honored to work with your team. They were good guys. You know, with one exception. I might be able to launch an offense of my own, but I’d like to have your support. Extractions like the one your men pulled off last night may come in handy.”

  He nods, “I can probably swing that. Whenever we have an agent in the field call in, we are authorized to send in rescue teams and lend backup. I have you on record as an undercover. You’ve met Agent Sullivan, right? He’s in charge of the west coast operations. He’ll be able to help you out of a jam, as I believe you’ve already discovered first-hand. His team specializes in high-risk extractions. I just can’t supply you with a full-time team to run a proper mission.”

  “I can work with that. I’ll need a new phone. The burner Sullivan gave me got destroyed.”

  “Of course, no problem.”

  “Remember that mission in Atlanta when you first brought me on? When we were stopping her men from capturing scientists?”

  Abrams nods.

  “Any more on that end? Those scientists—the survivors—give you anything to go off of?”

  “They’d been targeted because of their research in genetic engineering. That’s all we know. Those doctors didn’t have any contact with Brixton’s people prior to that night.”

  “Any others go missing since?”

  “Not missing…” Abrams pulls out his smartphone and pages through.

  “But?”

  “A prominent research facility in Minnesota was acquired by a lab in San Francisco. Most of the staff, particularly in R&D, were relocated.”

  “I’m no expert, but I’m guessing mergers and acquisitions of this nature happen all the time, right? Why is this one on your radar?”

  “The facility in San Francisco receives funding from terrorists…indirectly. Venture capital firms we suspect to have terrorist ties.”

  “No kidding.”

  “Sends up red flags…I saw your expression when I mentioned San Francisco. And you just came from there, right? What aren’t you telling me?”

  “My…friends, they know about a facility there they believe has ties to Brixton. She was seen there prior to relocating to Alaska. Any intel on your end you could provide? I’d be happy to look into it further,” I grin.

  He thinks for a moment. “Yeah, okay, but you have to agree to full disclosure on everything you discover as a result of your investigation.”

  I shrug, “Why not?”

  He leaves and returns a few minutes later with a packet.

  “I printed this from a file we have on a research facility near UCSF. Name EVO mean anything to you?”

  I shake my head.

  “Well, like I said, we monitor transactions from companies with known ties to terrorist organizations, and for some reason EVO Genetics got a big investment a couple years ago from an overseas investor with red flags all our it. Can’t say it’s been high on our respective radars, these sorts of exchanges happen all too frequently, but it appears they used the new funds to acquire the Minnesota lab a few months ago. The lab does the same sort of research the group in Atlanta was working on. This file contains everything we know about EVO. And it goes without saying this material is highly classified.”

  “Thanks.” I take the file.

  “It seems flimsy, but if your friends have evidence linking Brixton to that lab, it’s not as much of a stretch as I thought. It’s at least worth investigating.”

  “I agree. Seems like there’s a connection to be made.” I stub out the cigarette. “Speaking of connections, Brixton knows a lot about your agency. Be on high alert. She may try to hit one of your bases. Should probably take a closer look at your agents, too. Owen may not be the only one.”

  “Fair point. He’s still alive, right?”

  “I suspect. Can’t confirm.”

  “Alright. And I’m going to reach out to Interpol and MI5. They have to know the rabid dog wasn’t a rabid dog, right? Maybe they’ll lend us a hand.”

  “Best idea I’ve heard in a while. But good luck convincing anyone; talk like that could get you labeled a conspiracy theorist.”

  He laughs, “Yeah. I’ve been immersed in it so long it seems natural to discuss. Anyone outside this agency would probably place me on psych eval.”

  “Try living it,” I sigh.

  “You want a ride back to San Francisco?”

  “Please, after sundown. You got a car I can use?

  “I was thinking flight. It’s quite a long drive.”

  “Oh, right. You spoil me, Abrams.”

  “I’ll make the arrangements. Three hours till sunset, you good to hang here?”

  “No problem, boss man.” I recline on the cot, thumbing through the file.

  “And Lori, I’m sorry about getting you involved in all this.”

  “I made the choic
e to take up the cause. Don’t blame yourself.”

  Abrams looks unconvinced. “I’ll drop off a bag of equipment. Not sure if it’s of any use to you, but it’s the least I can do.”

  “Hey Abrams,” I say as he’s halfway out the door, “there a bunch of files like these? Companies doing shady stuff with dirty money?”

  “Tons. Sadly. Why?”

  I light another cigarette and take a drag.

  “No reason, just wondering.”

  ***

  Xan and Crina arrive at a gate several miles from the compound. Three flashlights dot the snow-dusted road as the guards approach the SUV, guns drawn.

  “We’re here to meet with Brixton. She’s expecting us; we’re with Marcus,” Crina explains, putting on her warmest smile as one of the guards comes to the window. The guard pulls out a phone and makes a gesture. The two other guards remove devices and begin to scan the car.

  “Pop your trunk,” one yells.

  After moment of rummaging through their gear: “Got a bag full of weapons,” a guard calls from the back of the vehicle.

  “Scanner identified two trackers.”

  The one holding the phone looks up from the screen.

  “Welcome to Trion. Upon entering, you will be relieved of your belongings and all tracking chips deactivated. When you leave, your bags will be returned to you. If these terms are unacceptable, I cannot permit you to enter the grounds.”

  Xan and Crina exchange a shrug.

  “Works for us.”

  The guard steps back and the other two open the gate. They follow snow-packed tire tracks the rest of the way.

  “I trust my guards didn’t give you any trouble?” Brixton enters the lobby as Crina hands over the last of her ammo.

  “You run a tight operation here.” Xan shakes her hand. “I’m impressed.”

  “You haven’t seen anything yet,” Brixton smiles. “I’m Brixton.”

  “Xan.” He points over his shoulder, “I think you’ve met Crina?”

  “Yes, welcome. Thanks for making the trip out.”

  Crina looks around. “Where’s Marcus?”

  “He’s around; come, I’ll give you a tour. We’ll likely run into him in one of the labs. He’s been reading up on the research since he arrived. An inquisitive mind, that one.”

  Brixton’s stiletto heels clink against the linoleum as she leads them down the hall.

  “Traveling light, I see. I was hoping you’d bring me a present.”

  “What can I say, Lori has friends in high places.” Crina stops to look through a window into a lab.

  Xan throws Crina a confused look.

  “Wait, what did you want with her? No offense, but we deal with our own,” Xan questions.

  “She killed members of my team, vampire and human, so to put it bluntly I’d like to see her pay. And Marcus told me you’d be bringing her in. Alive, or, you know what I mean…whole.”

  “We are sorry for your loss. I’m sure it was a big blow to your progress here. But to that effect, evaluating the terms of your proposal is our current priority. Forgive us for being skeptical, but we don’t tend to trust humans. And Lori, well, she will be handled in due time,” Crina says, watching the scientists assemble a crane-like device.

  “And if you feel the need to retaliate, perhaps you should focus you efforts on the government agency that launched the attack in the first place,” Xan adds.

  “Understood, but let me make myself clear: there is no deal without Lori.”

  Crina turns from the window.

  “That isn’t part of our arrangement.”

  “Marcus approved the exchange, Crina.” Brixton gives a half smile. “She’s a clairvoyant, no? Frankly from what I’ve seen I am not impressed, but I think I might be able to elevate her unique gift. Maybe even harness it in a way that can be passed along to others. We’re making scientific breakthroughs on a daily basis here. If anyone can do it, it’s us.”

  Brixton swipes a keycard and a door slides back to reveal another hallway.

  “At the very least, I want her to turn me before you kill her.” She says it casually, as if commenting on the weather. “This way.”

  Xan twirls his finger around his ear and whispers, “Loco.”

  “I need to speak with Marcus,” Crina demands as they follow her down a corridor identical to the one they just left.

  Chapter 18

  The chopper drops me off on a helipad in downtown San Francisco. The pilot had been kind enough to give me a map when I asked him if he was familiar with the city. I remembered the name of Vega’s street and, after some searching, managed to find it. It was only a few miles from where he dropped me off and I covered the distance easily on foot.

  After wandering around aimlessly in the neighborhood for a while looking for familiar sights, I finally spot his house. I stand out front wondering if I can just go up and knock as if nothing happened.

  I don’t have to wait long. The door opens and Vega steps out.

  “When you’re done admiring the architecture, you are welcome to join us inside.”

  Laughing, I take him up on his offer.

  “The fuck took you so long?” Quinn greets me with folded arms.

  “Took a detour to LA,” I smile, entering the foyer. Dade appears behind Quinn and I stop.

  “We cool?” I say, looking him in the eyes. Remembering what Crina and Xan said.

  He nods, “Quinn and these guys here, they insist you haven’t been taking out vampires. So we’re good. Unless Marcus and ‘em can show me proof otherwise. Innocent till proven guilty.”

  “Thanks. I can’t say I’m not the enemy, but I’m not your enemy.”

  Vega looks at the emblem on the bag I’ve got strapped over my shoulder.

  “You met with the DIA?”

  “I did, yes. And I come bearing gifts.”

  “Souvenirs, oh joy,” Quinn says dryly, eyeing the bag suspiciously.

  I hand it to Vega.

  “Rex around? He may want to check some of this gear out.”

  “He’s out with Malik. They are doing reconnaissance on a couple facilities.”

  “Oh yeah? That mean we’re still going after Trion?”

  “Not sure.” Vega picks up the bag, carries it up the steps. “The dynamic has shifted considerably. But it would be nice to get some proof of Trion’s transgressions to bring to Marcus and the others. I’m also starting to suspect that if we don’t go after them, it may just be a matter of time before they come after us.”

  “I got some information from the DIA that might help with that.”

  He just nods. I follow him to the second floor.

  “Sorry about your window. Again. Though technically I didn’t break the ones in Fairbanks. Don’t suppose the UV coating is something you can just pick up at Home Depot.”

  His coal-black eyes meet mine. He is not amused. I opt to change the subject.

  “So…about what happened before I broke the window… are you telepathic?”

  “No. I can’t read minds. Much like you, I can read energies, I’m just a little more practiced. And,” he adds nonchalantly, “Purebloods can communicate nonverbally.”

  “I see. Xan and Crina been back?”

  “Xan, yes. But just to retrieve his belongings. He informed us you got away. Expressed little interest in further pursuit, said he was heading to Alaska.” Vega looks over his shoulder. “He wasn’t lying; in fact he seemed relieved you got away.”

  “Well that takes some heat off for the moment, at least. We going to relocate again? Given that they know where to find us.”

  “You may want to find other accommodations, but I won’t hide from Marcus.”

  He stops. “You still have the DIA tracker in you, don’t you?”

  “Yeah. I’ll get a hotel room.”

  “That might be best.”

  ***

  “Ah, Marcus; there you are. Like what you see?” Brixton asks.

  She enters her office without
breaking stride as the glass door retracts. Xan and Crina follow her into the room. Marcus looks over and smiles excitedly.

  “Xan! Crina! So glad you made it.”

  “Marcus, can we talk in private for a moment?” Crina asks.

  “In a bit, Crina; whatever it is can wait till after this meeting. I trust you had no trouble with Lori?”

  “Umm…well, she didn’t make the trip,” Xan starts to explain.

  “That’s a shame. She has always been a handful. You did what you had to.” Marcus doesn’t hide his satisfaction.

  “That’s not what he means.” Crina shakes her head. “DIA showed up and rescued her.”

  “Well, that’s disappointing indeed.” Marcus furrows his brow.

  “It does prove I’m right about her ties to the humans hunting your kind, though.” Brixton crosses the room, fiddling with a handheld device. “Now that you have a better idea what you’re up against, I’m sure you won’t fail again. And you will have all my resources at your disposal.”

  Crina frowns at the word “fail.” “That’s very generous of you,” she responds dryly.

  Brixton directs their attention to the monitors lining the walls.

  “Allow me to demonstrate.” She clicks the device and all the screens lining the walls go blank except for the largest one in the center.

  On the screen they watch as a cargo truck, rumbling along a sandy dessert road, is suddenly lit up by an unknown assailant. Several shots from an airborne attacker reduce the truck to flaming debris in a matter of seconds.

  “Invisible drones,” Brixton explains, rewinding the footage and replaying.

  “They aren’t perfected yet, certain devices can pick them up, but you have to know where to look. Stealth drones are our current best seller. Even more popular than these.”

  She presses a button and a new video pops up.

  The display shows a rural city setting at night. The night vision imagery appears to be from a helmet cam. Two figures run past: dark, blurry and on the move. The helmet’s owner readies a small handgun with an advanced scope. The moving targets appear in the scope’s crosshairs as he focuses his aim and fires. Bullets with tracers shoot from the gun and disappear in the direction of the figures. The shooter chases in pursuit and seconds later he finds two dead bodies lying in a street around the corner.