by Joan Swan
A knock sounded on the door just before Nelson poked his head in, gaze homed on Mitch. “The primary security alarm just sounded. Worst case, they’re here. Best case, the cops will arrive in a couple minutes.”
“I didn’t hear the alarm, either.” Alyssa chucked supplies into the trash.
“It’s a low buzz at the receptionist’s desk,” Nelson said. “The loud one will kick in after about three minutes if the primary isn’t deactivated.”
Luke intercepted Keira and took Mateo. “I’ll carry, you shoot. Mitch, grab the foil. Wrap that chip.”
Keira pulled the gun from her jeans and followed Nelson out the door.
Alyssa was still trashing supplies when Mitch grabbed her arm. “Earth to Doctor Foster. Come in, Doctor Foster.”
“I’m just observing a little professional courtesy. Will you ever grow out of being such a bully?”
“If I was going to, it would have happened by now.”
Alyssa snapped off her gloves and tossed them into the garbage as she passed through the door.
The others climbed into the Jeep. Nelson lifted the hatch and rolled into the back. Mitch handed the foil to Alyssa, who fashioned a rudimentary cap over the back of Mateo’s head and neck. “Sorry, little buddy. Not near as cool as Uncle Luke’s.”
Luke crept through the parking lot with the Jeep’s lights extinguished, pausing in between buildings to cover the area with a quick, sweeping search.
“That’s them.” A dark sedan sat in a shadow between overhead lights at the rear of the building.
“Drop me off,” Nelson said. “I’ll make sure they think twice about following you again.”
The sentiment resonated with Keira. “Let me out with him.” She’d already started to shift Mateo across the seat toward Alyssa. “I haven’t met my quota of kills for the day.”
Mitch scraped out a dark laugh. “It’s official. I’m in love.”
Luke cut a look at Mitch that could have severed a limb, then shot a glare over his shoulder at Keira. “Chill.”
“There’s another exit at the opposite end of the parking lot,” Alyssa said. “Turn around.”
Nelson scowled. “Where’s the fun in that? At least let me slice their tires or something.”
“Too risky,” Luke said. “I’ve had enough fun for one day. Where’s the chip?”
Mitch held it up, wrapped in foil. “Here. They must have tracked us while Lys was taking it out. They’re damned close, man.”
“Or they’re everywhere.” Which Keira thought more likely.
“We’ll just keep it triple-wrapped in foil until I can get it to someone who knows what to do with it.” Mitch turned in his seat, looked at the sleeping boy, and dialed his phone. “Can you wake him up?”
“Why?”
“Because I have someone who can talk to him.”
“Who?” Keira asked.
“Relative of someone I represented a couple years ago. Lives in Greece, but they don’t call it Greece. They call it Hellas. And Greek is Hellene. I’ve been told using the other terms is considered derogatory, so don’t use it and piss him off. He said he’d be happy to help . . . Hey, Panos,” Mitch said into the phone. “It’s Mitch. Yeah, he’s right here. I’m putting you on speaker.”
Keira gave Mateo a gentle shake. “Honey, wake up. Mateo?”
The boy’s eyes dragged open. He rubbed them with little fists and turned back into Keira’s chest.
“Yá soo,” Panos said, “pos se léne, pedí moo?”
Mateo twisted in Keira’s arms and stared at the phone.
“Pió íne t’ónomá soo, kalé moo? Me akoós?” Panos tried again.
“Ne.” Mateo drew out the word, uncertain.
“Ah, ya soo! Ti kánees? Me léne . . .” Panos started off in a streak.
Not until the tension eased from Mateo’s shoulders did Keira relax as well. Then the boy started talking. He and Panos delved into an animated conversation and that old saying, it’s all Greek—or Hellene—to me, took on a whole new meaning.
Keira soaked in Mateo’s voice as she waited for translation, the sweet tone twining around her heart and doing strange things to her stomach. She didn’t have to hear the words to pick up Mateo’s intelligence. His words were well enunciated, his voice filled with inflection.
“His name is Mateo,” Panos said. “He doesn’t know his last name. When I ask him where he lives, he says it’s a big white house with barns but no animals.”
“Can you ask him if he knows where his family is?” Keira said.
She waited as Panos and Mateo spoke again. When she heard the word Thia, Keira’s stomach knotted.
“He says his mother is in heaven, his father is somewhere at a place called the Castle, and he’s sitting in his aunt’s lap.”
The scar on Keira’s back lit up like a firecracker. Heat skimmed her flanks, her ribs, and wrapped around her heart. She’d never felt this type of intense connection with a child. Yes, she loved Kat. Already loved Alyssa and Teague’s unborn son. But nothing like the overwhelming unconditional feeling she’d developed for Mateo literally overnight. Still, she was not his family. She had no family.
“He was probably taught to call the women who cared for him at the ranch aunts,” she said.
“According to him,” Panos went on, “he knew you would come for him someday. He’s been waiting. He says he’s watched you search for him for a long time, and that his father is working hard to get free and return to him.”
Keira’s chest tightened. “To get free?”
“Do you have siblings, Keira?” Alyssa asked.
“No.” Thoughts of her brother caused a fresh stab of pain. “I mean, I did. An older brother. He died in a house fire when I was five.”
Luke’s attention veered from the road. “You have a brother? You never told me that.”
“I had a brother. He’s been dead for twenty-five years.”
“Ask him how long he’s been at the ranch,” Mitch said. “Ask him what they did there.”
Panos had a short discussion with Mateo, then said, “He doesn’t know how long. He doesn’t remember living anywhere else. They did schoolwork. But what he’s calling schoolwork sounds more like testing. Looking into other spaces, talking without words, guessing games with cards, matching games . . .”
Anger burned through Keira’s body. Mateo leaned into her, pressed his face into her chest as if to hide.
“Mitch,” she whispered, not wanting to offend Panos. “Enough for now.”
Mitch disconnected after a hearty thank-you to Panos and a promise they would contact him again when things calmed down.
A phenomenon that Keira could barely imagine.
Luke frowned at Mitch. “Fill us in on the rest of the information you’ve got.”
Mitch opened a folder in his lap. “What do you want first? Rostov? The Ranch? The research?”
Dark desert zoomed by the Jeep windows. Keira let her eyes glaze and focused on the feel of Mateo’s warm body in her lap. “Start with Rostov.”
“Born in Russia when it was still the USSR,” Mitch said. “Noted scientist. Spent seven years as the director of Russian research on cultivating paranormal abilities in soldiers for use in military warfare—specifically telepathy and remote viewing.”
“Remote viewing,” Keira murmured.
Between different members of their team, they encompassed many paranormal abilities. Luke was fireproof, Keira clairaudient, Jessica specialized in scrying, Teague was a thermokinetic healer, Kai had powerful and various empathic abilities, Seth was psychokinetic, and Quaid . . . Quaid was just dead.
When she couldn’t define the term, her frustration resurfaced. “What is remote viewing?”
“When someone psychically travels to another location and can see and hear everything going on in real time, in the moment,” Luke said. “Whether it be in another room, another city, or even another country.”
“That’s it. That’s his ability.” She focuse
d on the bundle in her lap. “That’s how he knew Tony was bad before he showed up. And how he knew the attack was going to happen at the safe house.”
“Then that has to also be how he knew you’d been searching for him,” Luke said.
“If that’s true, then he’s got a screwed-up sense of relationships, because I can’t possibly be his aunt. My brother is dead.”
Her bark bit a chunk from the conversation, leaving silence.
“That’s not a touchy subject,” Luke finally muttered.
Mitch darted glances around the car from beneath his brows, then cleared his throat. “About eight months after Soviet research efforts were canned, Rostov immigrated to the United States and—surprise, surprise—was employed by the Department of Defense from the day he set foot on U.S. soil to the day he bought that property in the Nevada desert.”
“What about the ranch?” Luke asked. “The chemicals?”
“The ranch was classified as a religious organization,” Mitch said, “at least according to IRS records. But shipping companies have been delivering all sorts of chemicals to that address since its inception.”
The facts confirmed Keira’s leap to a conclusion she’d made in the car with Tony—that Rostov had gone off the reservation, was using the chemicals in unauthorized ways, made progress with Mateo, and DARPA wanted the kid now.
Fingers curled into a fist, she slammed the Jeep’s armrest, wishing she’d gotten a chance at some hand-to-hand with Tony. “They used me . . . as an assassin.”
Mitch released a long, heavy breath. Still sitting sideways in the seat directly in front of her, he wiped a hand over his face and rested his fingers against closed eyes. “This has turned into an epic nightmare.”
Keira laid her head against the window. “It’s going to get a lot worse before it gets any better.”
TEN
Luke shifted in the front passenger’s seat of Alyssa’s Audi Q5, but even the padded leather, luxury SUV bucket seat couldn’t provide him with any relief. Previously ignored or unknown injuries had come alive. Including that bullet to the temple, leaving him with an almost ear-bleedingly painful headache. He was wishing he hadn’t bolted from that ER before getting drugs.
Twenty-four hours hadn’t yet passed from the time he’d set foot at the siege, yet more had happened in his life in those hours than in the last three years. With the short flight and minimal drive, they’d reached the hospital in those barely morning dead zone hours. The familiar exterior of Tahoe Basin Community Hospital came into view. Lights washed the river rock and cedar entrance, illuminating the dark night.
“You think you can hook me up with some pain meds while we’re here, Lys?”
His question penetrated the car’s heavy silence. With just Alyssa, Keira, Mateo, and himself in the car, it was quiet. Everyone was tired, stressed, freaked out, and silent.
Mitch had gone to Alyssa and Teague’s house to brief Teague, while Alyssa drove the rest of them to the hospital so she could utilize the equipment there to get more information on the . . . things . . . in Mateo’s head.
Alyssa turned a suspicious look his way as she parked in the hospital’s side lot. “Why do you need pain meds?”
“He got shot,” Keira offered in a dark tone from the backseat.
“What?” Alyssa asked. “Nobody said anything about getting shot.”
“Twice,” Keira added, like a freaking six-year-old tattling to Mom.
“Keira.” Luke twisted in his seat, which slashed another dose of pain across his ribs and stole his breath. Shut up.
Keira had closed him out of her thoughts in the plane and hadn’t opened up again since, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t hear him.
“Why didn’t you tell me so I could examine you?” Alyssa’s gaze swept over his torso. “Must not have been bad.”
“No, I’m just banged up. Have a few cracked ribs. And after all the climbing and lifting I’ve done today, they’re killing me. Something other than Vicodin. It makes me—”
“Puke.” Alyssa shut down the engine. Her distracted hazel eyes searched the darkened lot as if she expected a stalker to pop out of the bushes. “I remember. I’ve got some Oxycodone at home.”
Luke followed her gaze, his unease returning. “You said this was kosher.”
Alyssa pulled on the door handle. The crisp, fall mountain air swept in and grabbed them in a brisk hug. “It is.”
“Then why are you uncomfortable?”
Alyssa grabbed her ID badge from the center console with a look that translated to you-are-so-damn-stupid-sometimes. “We’re being chased by powerful people who want this boy bad enough to kill. Forgive me if I’m a little nervous. Let’s get in, get out, and get home.”
With Keira carrying a limp, barefooted, foil-capped kid, Luke followed the women toward the side entrance with his weapon held close to his thigh. But nothing about get in and get out felt or sounded right.
At the glass door Alyssa peered down the empty hallway before swiping her badge, then held the door open.
But crossing that threshold brought to Luke’s mind all Alyssa had to lose by breaching hospital protocol. “You shouldn’t be risking this. We could have brought him in through the emergency room and gotten a doctor’s order.”
“I’d like to have heard that story,” Alyssa said. “Why doesn’t he speak English? How did he get that cut? He’s got what in his head? The cops would have shown up twenty minutes after the ER doc reported an abducted or abused child with psychotic parents.”
When they reached the office door, Alyssa slid her badge again. “No security guard, no night technologist, no housekeeping. We’re on a roll.”
She pushed the door open.
“It’s about damn time.” The deep voice vibrated from inside the room.
Luke’s fingers tightened around the grip of his gun. Then the voice registered. Teague. Air whooshed out of Luke’s lungs.
“Jesus, Teague.” Alyssa put a hand over her heart and stood aside so Keira and Luke could enter. “You scared me. How’d you beat us here? How’d you get in? Who’s with Kat?”
“Mitch called on the way from the airport. I didn’t stay to talk.” Teague stepped into the light cast by six different computer screens, holding up an identification badge just like the one Alyssa had, his expression stern. “You know those badges you can never keep track of? And it’s better I scared you, considering the options, don’t you think? Mitch is at the house with Kat, and she’s asleep. This isn’t smart, Alyssa.”
“It’s got to be done.”
Teague wrapped his wife in his arms. “I know what you’re trying to do, Lys, but think about what you’re risking.”
Teague was right. In Luke’s need to get answers for Keira, he’d overlooked the toll this could take on Alyssa’s career—one she’d worked so hard and sacrificed so much for.
“Let’s just bail,” Luke said.
Keira didn’t say anything. She stood immobile just inside the door, her light eyes jumping from face to face with pained indecision as she stroked Mateo’s curls.
“We can’t,” Alyssa said. “There’s no better time. This place is deserted; Mateo’s asleep.”
Teague let her go with a sigh and stepped forward with an extended hand for Luke. When he took it, Teague pulled him into a quick hug. “I see you’re still too damn stubborn to die.”
“You know it. But I almost shot you, dumb shit.”
Teague smirked and put both hands on Keira’s arms, his eyes scouring her face. “Those cuts are going to scar. Better let me work on them.”
“Tomorrow.” Keira offered a weak smile. “I promise.”
“No, later. I can’t do anything with tissue that’s already healed . . . or died.” He kissed her forehead, then dropped his gaze to Mateo. “This is the little waif causing all the trouble? Hard to believe. He’s barely bigger than a string bean.”
“Luke,” Alyssa directed, “lock that door behind you. Keira, bring him in here.”
“It’s good he’s asleep.” Alyssa pulled a lead apron off hooks on the wall. “I won’t have to sedate him for the test if he stays still on his own. Put this on and you can stay in here with him. It’ll only take a few minutes.”
Alyssa took the sleeping boy from Keira’s arms. He shifted, coming awake slowly. His eyes weren’t even open when he reached in Keira’s direction as if he could sense her. “Thia.”
“Right here, baby.” Keira fastened the Velcro and took Mateo again.
“Okay.” Alyssa patted the bed of the scanner. “Lay him on his back.”
Keira took one step toward the scanner before Mateo’s eyes opened. “Mee!” He struggled in Keira’s arms as she tried to keep the boy from twisting right out of her grasp. “Stamata, Thia . . .”
He screamed in a language no one understood and clawed at Keira’s clothes, climbing her body like a kitten cornered by a Doberman.
Luke darted into the room and caught the boy just before he pitched himself to the floor. “Shhhhh, buddy,” he murmured, rubbing his back as he rocked. Mateo’s heart knocked so hard on Luke’s ribs he could feel it in his own chest. “Shhhhh, it’s okay.”
“Bring him in here.” Alyssa returned to the first room with the CT controls and approached the medication dispenser. “Looks like I’ll have to sedate him after all.”
“I say we call the whole thing off,” Luke said.
Keira stood nearby, arms crossed, fingers squeezing her biceps so hard she drained the blood of the indented flesh. She was torn. He didn’t have to read her mind to know. He could still read her expressions.
“Lys, he’s right.” Teague put a hand on Alyssa’s arm. “It’s one thing to sneak into the hospital, use resources without authorization, and expose a child to radiation. It’s another to medicate a patient you know nothing about. You’re risking everything here. Your position, your reputation, even your license. Not to mention his health.”
“Screw that,” Luke said as Mateo continued to whimper against his shoulder. “We’re all in enough trouble. We’re not dragging you down, Lys.”
