Jagged Edge (The Arsenal Book 1)

by Cara Carnes

  “Settle back, everyone’s okay.” The calm, even order mixed with assurance eased her angst.

  The empty cell thundered through her thoughts, a shock rocking everything she’d survived. She hadn’t been there. No.

  I heard her screams.

  Her pleas.

  Questions listed in her mind. She’d get answers later. An overwhelming floating sensation spread through her.

  “I’ve given you a mild sedative. Nothing too strong, just enough to combat your anxiety, okay?” Logan asked.

  “No drugs, stay awake. See Vi.” Mary forced the fractured thoughts out. Why was talking so hard?

  “She needs rest, Dylan.”

  She couldn’t rest until she saw Vi, knew for sure she was safe. Unharmed.

  “No. See Vi.” She sounded like a belligerent child, but she couldn’t form whole sentences. An itchy, raw sensation crawled along her throat. No matter how much she rubbed, she couldn’t ease the ache.

  “We had to insert a breathing tube during surgery. The discomfort will go away soon. You woke earlier than I expected.” Logan did the whole stethoscope in the ear thing and settled the cool metal circle on her chest. “Do you know where you are?”

  “The Arsenal,” she replied.

  “That’s right. It’s Thursday. Do you remember when you were taken?”

  “Friday.” Almost a week ago. Her gut twisted. Memories flooded her, but she pushed them back. No good came from reliving what they’d done.

  “Do you prefer Edge, or Mary?” Logan asked.

  “Edge keeps me focused,” she responded.

  His lips thinned to an almost imperceptible presence on his face. “Are you okay with Dylan being here while we go over things?”

  “Yes.” The response was immediate, a bit shocking.

  While Mary didn’t know him personally, she trusted him more than anyone else right now, and she needed someone in her corner. This was more than she was trained to handle. He’d shown up, rescued her.

  “Would you like me to go over your injuries?” he asked gently.

  “No,” she gritted through clenched teeth. “I remember what they did.”

  “The ribs will heal on their own. Your arm should take four to six weeks. I operated to inflate your lung.” Logan sat on a stool beside the hospital bed. “Anything else you’d like to know?”

  “Vi?”

  Logan glanced at Dylan. They did the awkward man speak, chin lift, and grunt thing she’d seen too many times with Hive operatives.

  “Mary, you were subjected to a highly concentrated regiment of drugs,” Logan said.

  “I know.”

  “Edge, they were hallucinogenic,” Dylan said. “They showed up in your tests.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “That’s what we need to figure out,” Dylan replied. “We’ll save the full debrief until you’re more rested, but we need to know what you remember about Vi.”

  “You said she wasn’t there. Why would you ask about her?” Mary sat up in the bed. She had to be around somewhere.

  “She wasn’t there, Edge.” Dylan gripped her hand and squeezed. The firm contact drew her gaze, forced her mind to focus. “She was never there.”

  “I heard her screams,” she whispered into the silence. “She had to have been there. I must’ve passed out and they moved her before you came.”

  And cleaned up the cell she was in? Yeah, right. You aren’t that stupid, Mary. Focus.

  “Were you kept together, or separate?” Logan asked.

  “Separate, but I could hear her.” Mary wet her lips and forced her mind back to the cells. “They spent an hour with her, then they played cards and drank, then it was my turn.”

  “An hour each time? An established pattern?” Logan asked. “How did you know how long?”

  “A clock on the wall across from the cells.”

  “Vi’s was next to yours?” Dylan asked.

  Mary nodded mutely.

  “Could you see the questioning area from your cage?”

  “No, it was too far to the right. I could only hear.” She looked between the two men. “Ask Glenn. He was there. And another man with Vi. Glenn knew him. I didn’t get a name.”

  “I’ll talk to him again,” Dylan said. “She wasn’t there, Edge.”

  “I heard her,” she whispered. Phantom screams scraped across her mind.

  Wait. Heard. She’d screamed the entire time they interrogated Vi. Her throat burned at the thought. But Vi...

  “Vi only yelled when they had her, never when I was...” Mary cut off the statement as her mind processed the implication and added in what she’d seen when Dylan carried her to the cell beside hers. The empty cell. “She was never there.”

  “The drugs, an established routine, pain, and sleep deprivation when combined with what they did to you would be enough not to notice if the voice was a recording,” Logan explained calmly.

  “Or someone else,” Dylan muttered. “Did you talk with Vi? During the downtime?”

  “Some.” More than she should have. “She didn’t talk back, but I assumed she was too injured, traumatized.”

  Mary’s gut twisted as her mind attempted a recall of the conversations. Why couldn’t she remember?

  “The drugs may have had some adverse side effects,” Logan commented. “You may never remember what all you spoke about.”

  “She asked about the program, if I had it secured,” Mary whispered.

  “Program?” Dylan prodded.

  “HERA, something she and I created. Hive wanted it, but we refused. Then Peter was murdered and...” Mary swallowed. “Things got worse from there.”

  Peter Rugers had been like a big brother to her and Vi. He’d co-founded Hive along with Martin Driggs. Though they’d both hated the other man, they’d worked alongside Peter happily. His younger sister, Addy, had become a best friend and was one of the best operatives they had in the field.

  When Peter was murdered, she and Vi had activated their HERA platform and started a manhunt for whoever killed him. What they found surprised them both.

  “Martin Driggs was behind this,” Mary said. “I have to talk to Vi.”

  “Cord’s working on it. Driggs has her in some backwater Columbian village on assignment. Getting her attention without drawing anyone else’s is a challenge.”

  “Get me a computer. I can do it.”

  “All you’re doing is resting,” Logan stated. “Typing would do more harm than good right now.”

  Right. The arm.

  The fingernails.

  “I was hoping you wouldn’t talk. I’ve been waiting to put you in your place a long time, Edge. Telling Command I’m not fit for duty? You’ll learn your lesson.”

  Pliers clamped the edge of her nail. A scream ripped from her throat.

  “Mary.”

  The voice startled her. Warm hands cupped her face. Pasture green eyes studied her.

  “Where did you go?” he asked.

  “My nails.”

  Dylan’s jaw twitched as his gaze sliced briefly to her fingers. “You recognize anyone? We captured two alive. Two dead. How many others?”

  “I’m not sure. They all wore masks and kept me blindfolded some of the time. I have clues. Moles. Birthmarks. Speech patterns. Body frame types. They left a trail I can follow.”

  “When you’re up to it, I’ll have Cord come in, sit with you. He’s good on a machine and can help until your hand feels better.”

  The door knocked against the wall. A massive figure loomed in the entryway. Dylan half turned but made no move. Mary relaxed.

  “We’ve got a situation up front,” the man said.

  “Get Marshall or Nolan.”

  “They’re part of the situation,” the man replied. “Someone penetrated our perimeter. They’ve taken hostages in reception.”

  Mary leaned back and laughed. Pain coursed along her side, but she didn’t care. There was only one person who could’ve penetrated Arsenal defenses
without setting off alarms. Well, except for her of course.

  “Vi’s here. She’s okay.” The whispered statement dissolved the last of her unease. Her BFF would sort everything out. For now, Mary could rest.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Dylan entered a war zone, Logan and Mark hot on his heels. Gage Sanderson and all five of his brothers knelt, hands behind their heads with the business end of weapons trained at their heads. It was who held the guns that made him laugh.

  “Jesus, y’all were taken down by GI Jane wannabes.”

  A blonde with red, wire-rimmed glasses glanced up from a laptop. She looked over at the redhead, the only trained one among the four females, and motioned her head toward him, eyes wide and expressive.

  “Bree, point your gun at the new Rambos. Pull the trigger if they twitch,” the redhead ordered.

  Bree was a busty blonde dressed in head-to-toe black with huge lines of face paint beneath expressive blue eyes, which gleamed with excitement. “Seriously? I can shoot?”

  Dylan would be worried, but she was holding a tranquilizer gun of some sort. Drones flitted about in the air. One shot past his head and darted down the hall. He glared at Mark. “Go shoot it down.”

  “Stay where you are, or I shoot,” the redhead threatened. “I’m coming off a seriously messed up op with no rack time. Try me.”

  Yep, she was definitely the only threat in the room. Dylan studied his brothers, noted their drooping eyes and barely upright stances.

  “They’re drugged,” Logan growled. “What’d you use?”

  The blonde looked up. Eyes wider than saucers stared at them a moment. “Logan? What are you doing here? Don’t tell me you’re a part of this.”

  “Is this the hot doc who Mary helped rescue, the one you said was trying to get in her pants?” The brunette at the end looked back and forth between Logan and the blonde. “Wow, he’s hot.”

  “Rhea, not now,” gritted the redhead.

  “Oh, Addy, you’re never any fun. Seriously. Vi has this under control.”

  “Quillery didn’t just go ten rounds with six black ops soldiers before that shit in the drones kicked in.” Addy motioned at Dylan with her gun. “Come closer, hands behind your back. This’ll be over quick as long as you all cooperate.”

  “Huh.” Vi tapped at the keyboard with one hand. “That’s odd.”

  “What? Are there more men in the back?” Addy asked as she looked over at the busty blonde. “Bree, refill the drones with the knockout juice.”

  “On it.” Bree looked pointedly at Dylan. “But I can still shoot fast, so don’t get any ideas.”

  Quillery set the laptop on the reception desk and charged toward his brothers. Dylan tensed, ready to strike, but she bonked Cord aside the head before anyone could react.

  Dallas snickered.

  Nolan outright laughed.

  “What the hell was that for?” Cord demanded with an expression he’d used many times with their little sister when she got violent—which was fairly often since she had six overprotective big brothers.

  “Where the hell did you get your hacker training? From a Cracker Jack box?” Quillery’s voice rose, shrill and shaky with anger. “You could’ve gotten everyone killed!”

  “What the hell?” Cord repeated.

  “What was the message you buried in my feed?” Quillery’s voice softened, a velvety seduction more like the tone she used with operatives.

  “We have Edge. Come to Texas.”

  Dylan cursed. Marshall growled. Nolan and Dallas laughed. Jesse knocked Cord aside the head.

  “What the hell?” he sputtered. “You got the message.”

  “Oh, yeah. We got the message, idiot,” Addy retorted. “Take a look around. Do you have any idea what Quillery could’ve put in those drones? They’ve only been used on two ops before this, and both times everyone was carried out in body bags.”

  “Never, ever, ever, ever send vague codes through a hack. Brevity is good, but only if it has detail.” Quillery got closer, leaning in until her face was up against Cord’s. “Edge secured in Texas. That was what you should’ve said.”

  “Shorter, assures safety and our position in the situation,” Dylan explained.

  “Shit,” Cord groaned.

  “Does this mean I can’t shoot the thingie?” Bree asked.

  “Well, this is all shades of awkward,” Addy commented as she secured her weapon and looked around. “Addy Rugers. Nice to meet you all.”

  “Mark, check the perimeter. Verify everyone’s okay,” Dylan ordered.

  “We didn’t hurt anyone,” Quillery commented. “Much.”

  Addy unshouldered a backpack and handed it to Mark. “Their weapons and coms.”

  The man grunted and headed out, a glower on his face. No one liked to be bested, especially by a kick ass female soldier. Addy Rugers was as trained as her legendary older brother had been, or so he’d heard. Marshall approached the woman.

  “Sorry about Peter. He was a great soldier.”

  “I told Vi there wasn’t any way you all were in on whatever this was. Peter always said the only last name more trustworthy than Rugers in the field was Mason.” Addy looked around. “What happened?”

  “We’re still piecing it together. Edge was taken, interrogated.” Dylan settled his gaze on Quillery. There was no easy way to finish. “She thought you were there.”

  “What?” The blonde paled and headed to her laptop. “Where? How long ago?”

  “Vi, let’s tend Mary first, then go from there.” Addy settled a hand on her friend’s shoulder.

  The other two women paled, huddled close to the redhead like she was their lifeline. Dylan cocked a brow at Marshall. What was up with all the women being here, and should they ask?

  Everyone shook their head. Fine. It’d wait. For now. He didn’t like so many unknowns hanging around, especially with Mary at risk. These were her friends though. They’d stormed The Arsenal and won.

  “We need to overhaul our security if four GI Jane wannabes kicked our asses,” Dylan replied.

  “Don’t feel bad. I actually worked up a sweat. That’s not normal for most penetrations,” Addy commented.

  “All penetrations should make you sweat,” Dallas replied with a smug grin.

  Bree and Rhea chuckled. Heat rose in the redhead’s face as her words took on a new meaning. She gaped like a fish out of water at Dylan’s brother, then muttered something about men and apes and headed down the hall.

  Dylan hung back with his brothers, letting Logan lead Quillery and the other females to their friend. Addy limped slightly, but otherwise wasn’t injured as far as he could tell.

  “How did she get the jump on all of you?”

  “Those drones,” Nolan muttered. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “No shit. I’d take flash bangs all day compared to what just happened.”

  “What did happen?” Marshall asked. “Addy knocked me out before I realized we had a breach.”

  “Two drones whizzed through the door. One shot out a gas compound, the other emitted a sonic pulse. My ears still aren’t working right,” Jesse commented.

  Everyone halted in the hallway outside Mary’s room. Dylan settled into a lean against the nearest wall, within striking range if needed. Vi had crawled onto the bed on Mary’s good side. Tears fell from both their faces. Addy hovered behind Vi, leaned in to join the conversation. The other two women huddled close, crying hard enough for their shoulders to shake. Logan stood near them, glowering. No one liked women crying.

  The whispered conversation went on longer than he wanted. Mary needed rest, not a rehash of what had happened. The tone quickly shifted. Vi sat upright, her gaze narrowed, her voice too low to hear, but her body tightened the longer they spoke.

  Dylan watched, fascinated as Edge’s did as well. The two friends fed one another, fueled each other’s emotional processes. He’d seen the symbiotic-like dynamic in the field enough to recognize it.

  “Can sh
e be moved?” Vi asked.

  “She’s not going anywhere,” Dylan growled.

  “We need to read you in, but not in this room. We need a secured area,” Addy replied. “We’ve all walked right into the trap, just like they wanted. Let’s go.”

  “THIS IS RIDICULOUS,” Mary complained.

  “Get over it. I agree with Dylan. You shouldn’t be out of bed at all,” Rhea spat. “But she does have a point. This is a bit too cloak and dagger, don’t you think?”

  “You’re only here because you’re in as much danger as Bree, Mary, and I are. So shush,” Vi ordered as she headed over to the operational center’s console like she owned the place.

  Cord stood beside her, hands crossed, eyebrows in a permanent glower. Vi ignored him and everyone else as she crawled beneath the counter and established contact between the laptop and The Arsenal’s system.

  She flashed Mary an uncomfortable smile. This was all Mary’s stuff. Vi was the voice. The one who everyone knew as Quillery. Mary was the how, when, and where. The Edge.

  “Why don’t you start the explanation, if you’re up to it,” Vi suggested.

  The men gathered in a semi-circle. Everyone ignored the plush leather seating along the back walls of the massive room. Mary faced the computer monitors and willed her pulse to slow.

  Everyone was safe. Secure.

  “Peter’s murder six months ago left Hive firmly in Martin Driggs’s incapable hands, at first. He’s the money man, the face behind the business side. He can’t run an operation as massive as what he now controls.” Mary looked at Addy sympathetically. “Peter was Hive.”

  “Driggs brought in an outside ‘partner,’ someone he said would remain silent. I only found out because he insisted on buying out my share of Hive, which turned over to me when Peter died.” Addy’s voice broke at the end. “That’s when things started going wrong for Driggs.”

  “He assumed he would gain full control of Hive,” Vi added from beneath the console. “Bastard didn’t bother reading the paperwork.”

  “Needless to say, I tossed the new partner out on his ass and maintained ownership. That’s when things started getting shaky,” Addy said. “Peter added a clause to the will stating that while I owned half the company, Driggs would maintain field control until I’d had fifteen years of experience, collectively. That’s in four months.”