by Black, Regan
Jameson watched Mira as her hands hovered over the coroner's ugly Y-incision. Her hair was damp with sweat at her temples. He had to wonder if the effort was worth it.
"Take it easy, this was just an option. We can come at Montalbano from another angle."
"No. It's here. I'm close." She closed her eyes, shutting him out along with the rest of the world.
Feeling offended was stupid. He knew focus was key to her success. They'd asked her to do something completely different from her previous experience. He put a muzzle on his frustration and tried to pin down just what was making him edgy.
"We've got a contact."
Jameson frowned at Cleveland. "The guard's early?"
"Not the guard. Headed this way," Cleveland whispered.
"How many?" Jameson nodded to Cali. She moved to the door as he shifted to cover Mira.
"Just one."
"Is there another visitor in the system down here? Employee maybe?"
Cleveland's fingers were flying over the keyboard, but his head shake signaled 'no'.
Jameson didn't like it. "Feels wrong."
Obviously, Cali agreed with him as she braced for the likely interruption.
He didn't believe in coincidence. Not one thing had gone easy since this damned operation started. Clearly it was too much to expect this particular field trip to break the pattern.
Three sets of eyes watched the door, waiting for the light on the lock to change. Only Mira kept working. He could feel her moving behind him, doing her thing. He hoped to God she was making notes, or memorizing the information, or something. Anything that would justify what he might have to do to get them out of here.
His contact showed the person stopping on the other side of the door. His mind registered the change in the status light before his ears could absorb the click of the electronic lock.
Cali let the door swing open, let the man step over the threshold. When he hesitated, Cali reached around and jerked him all the way in, holding him in another of those moves Jameson wasn't quite sure he could mimic. She kicked the door shut and pushed her prisoner to his knees.
Chapter 11
"Conrad," Jameson growled, recognizing the enforcer as Mira let out a gasp behind him. He stuck an arm out, preventing her from moving closer to the threat.
"Mira, thank God you're alive."
"Luke, what –"
"Where's Dr. Luther?" Jameson interrupted.
"Safe. He's safe, I promise." Conrad twisted around to plead with Cali. "I mean you no harm, Guardian."
Cali wasn't buying it. "Why are you here?"
"To help. Dr. Luther almost has an antidote, but even so." He gulped as his gaze traveled over the bodies surrounding Mira. "There was a-a-"
"Stop order," Mira finished. "Yes. I found it."
Jameson wanted to cheer when she moved just enough to stand by his side and link her hand with his.
"But it didn't kick in in time."
"Quantity probably. Too much of the bleed-out serum too fast."
"I'll tell him."
Cali gave Conrad a hard shake. "Why don't we all tell him together?"
Jameson didn't have time to agree with her before a flash blinded him. The whole room lit up as if the sun itself had joined the party. Instinctively he spun to shelter Mira, but she wasn't there. He shouted for her, but silence filled his ears like cotton.
His vision snapped clear again in an instant, just in time to see Conrad escaping with Mira. He shouted, and she glanced back, surprise taking over the worry on her face. But she didn't stop.
He paused just long enough to confirm Cleveland and Cali were still breathing and tore out into the hallway after her.
Conrad had surely promised her access to her father. Jameson checked his watch, gave it a shake. If Conrad had promised her anything it would've been of the telepathic variety. Jameson hadn't been blind and deaf for more than a minute. He used his contacts, but according to the display, he was absolutely alone.
So now she could disappear into thin air? No. He didn't buy it for a second. That blue shell she'd cast over herself in the explosion changed her, but not that much. She must have done something to the biometrics of his recon gear. He turned back to the morgue and confirmed it when neither Cali nor Cleveland showed up on the display. Pulling out his infrared scanner, he found them just fine.
He applied the infrared to the empty hall. Nothing. Well moving quickly, it was possible they were already out of range, but he wasn't out of options.
He walked slowly down the hall, away from the elevators, assuming Conrad had Dr. Luther stashed somewhere deeper in the warren of sub levels and sparsely populated facilities down here.
He pulled the Trident II tracker from its place on his belt. After a moment waiting for it to come online, he found the signal that could only be Mira. She was the only thing he'd tagged, her tag the only thing he'd programmed.
"Gotcha."
Smiling, he returned to the morgue, roused Cleveland and Cali, and explained the change of plans.
* * *
"Let me go," Mira demanded when they skidded to a stop around the second corner. Luke's grip was turning her hand to jelly. She could give it a pulse and make it better, but she wasn't ready to reveal the range of her new abilities just yet.
"I'm so glad you survived."
"Me too," she snapped. "I'm not sure you'll survive if Jameson catches up with us. He was already mad, now he'll be furious."
"Then maybe you shouldn't have fried his senses like that."
Mira didn't bother to disabuse him of the notion that she'd harmed Jameson. To be honest, the more time they spent together the more she wondered if anything could harm him now. Again, not a detail she intended to share with an enforcer who might very well be working both sides to trap her father in the middle.
"Where is my father?"
"The last place you'd expect." Luke grinned down at her and for just a moment, she remembered why he'd been her first hard crush. He'd been kind to her, had actually noticed her, despite his obvious dedication to whatever her dad had been working on at the time.
Then she remembered this was the one place she'd expected Luke to hide him. Though she'd meant to plead her case to the team and only go searching alone if they argued with her.
"Why haven't you aged?"
"I learned how to control my cell restoration."
"Right."
"When did you get so cynical?"
"Asking questions isn't cynical, it's the sign of a –"
"Curious mind." They finished one of her dad's favorite quotes together. "He's fine, Mira, but he could use your help."
"Which side are you on?"
"I'm dedicated to Dr. Luther."
She studied him, decided that was as honest an answer as she'd get at the moment. "Then you'd better lead on."
Luke hesitated. "Will you help? I won't take you to him if you plan to turn him over to your pals."
"They want to help him too."
"Not after he created a weapon."
"When did you get so cynical?" She realized her error when pain flashed in his eyes. What had he seen, what had he been pushed to do as an enforcer? "Okay, okay. Baby steps here since neither of us is big on trust at the moment. I went to the old college lab to heal his leg."
"I blew up the lab because he can't heal his own leg."
"Why not?" She thought about her dad's history, the shunning Cali found, and wondered that he might have been stripped of his inherent gift.
"He took a hit of his own bleed-out formula. Sort of," he added when Mira gasped. "Montalbano shot him and then poured an early version of the formula into the wound."
"Bastard." Mira gritted her teeth, wishing for just a few minutes alone with the mobster. Not that she could harm him per se. Maybe a few minutes alone after Jameson took a little sparring practice. "Take me to him. I think I can help."
She would figure out how to get word to the others later. Right now, her father was her p
rimary concern. He had the answers she needed. Answers about his formula, Montalbano, and she hoped answers about what had happened to her.
"Your implant is gone?"
She nodded. "I'd be back in the inquiry room, or worse, if it wasn't."
"True." He led her deeper into the labyrinth of hallways. "When we were sent out, I didn't know you were the pick up until we got there. I was the newbie on that team."
Mira waved it off. "Water. Bridge. I get it. You had a job to do."
"Thanks for not saying anything."
"That wouldn't have helped either of us." She'd been resigned to her situation then, she wasn't feeling nearly so passive now.
They made the rest of the trek in silence until he stopped at the end of one hallway. She looked right and left, noting only windows, no doors in either direction. A lab most likely. Which meant fire exits.
To her surprise, Luke used an employee badge to gain access. She really needed to learn who he worked for and get that information back to Callahan.
All those questions faded away when the door swung open and she saw her father bent over a microscope. There was a cane balanced on the table near his left hand. So Luke cared enough to help this much. It was a start, she supposed, to confirming his dedication.
"Daddy?" Her voice wasn't more than a whisper with her heart lodged in her throat.
But he'd heard her. He made a careful notation first, but when he met her gaze, his eyes were shining with love. He opened his arms and she rushed into them as if she were eight years old again.
"Ah, sweetheart," he said, holding her tight. "I've missed you so."
Frustration, choices, disappointment, all of it fell away. She clung, and the fear she'd been carrying evaporated as she allowed herself be his daughter for the first time in too many years.
Easing back, she blotted her damp cheeks. "Are you still working on the antidote?"
"Vaccine, really. Though I hope it's not necessary."
The burden of what he'd created for Montalbano was clear in the dark circles under his eyes, the deep furrows across his brow, and the hard set of his shoulders.
"Let me take care of your leg. The pain isn't making your job any easier." She held up a hand, stalling his protest. "At least let me look."
He sighed and gazed longingly at the microscope.
"You'll waste time if you argue."
Behind her, she heard a little snort of what was surely laughter from Luke.
"Just pull off a bit of the pain. That was a big help at the lab."
She shook her head. "Do you need information from your wound?"
"No." His shoulders slumped another inch.
"Great. Then let me at it."
He gave in, rolling up his pant leg. She recoiled at the blood stained bandage covering the hole just above his knee. "What was the goal of this version of the formula?" She noted the lack of infection, but something clearly impeded the healing process. The wound looked almost fresh, aside from the lack of blood flow. "No granulation," she muttered, examining the torn tissue that showed no signs of healing progress.
"That was the point," her father admitted. "But it wasn't flashy enough for Montalbano."
"Why didn't you do something about it?" She paused her study of his leg to search his face.
"I'm no longer allowed to heal. Myself or anyone else." She didn't like the way he glanced at Luke when he said it. "Long story. But treating myself would be like sending up a flare. The order would have a team on me in no time. The government's not big on security breaches like that."
"So they didn't strip your gift?"
"They tried." He jerked when she pulsed a little of what she considered her 'normal' light at the wound.
"The bullet's still in there!"
He shrugged. "I was too busy to get it out the old fashioned way. Montalbano would've just shot me again and I was getting good information out of the process for awhile. Giving it a bit of a hit to keep it from festering worked in my favor." He jerked his chin toward Luke. "Even so, they sent enforcers to see what I was up to."
"Uh-huh." Callahan's theory rattled around in the back of her mind. She'd have to ask him more about that later.
"Can you handle it, Mira?" Luke was peering over her shoulder.
"Yeah. But why didn't you?"
"Not my thing anymore."
"Great. Two healers who can't heal."
"Had to make a choice when I turned to the enforcer detail." He shrugged.
"Enforcers are allowed to heal themselves, which helps," her dad said.
"Hooray." Mira didn't miss the pride in her dad's voice, but she was a bit wrapped up in the task under her hands.
"Do not move." She amped up the energy and slowly dragged the bullet to the surface. "Luke, grab something to keep this in."
He handed her a small plastic specimen jar. "A souvenir?"
"Evidence."
"I'll knit this back together and then we're going to have a long talk." She let her hands warm up and rolled a bit of her blue energy between her thumb and fingertips.
"Wait!" Her father manacled her wrist and held it wide of his leg. "What is that?"
She gaped at him. "A bit of healing energy. I can set it inside and let it do the work while we talk."
"No. Absolutely not." He nodded to Luke, who caught her around the waist and dragged her away.
Her father started to shake and despite the distance of several work stations between them, she saw the tears and pain welling in his eyes. "When...when did you..." He swiped at his face. "When did you change?"
His lip curled with disgust on the last word and her heart shattered into a million little pieces.
"The lab," she choked out. Tossing her head, she put the blame on Luke. "When he blew it up. I didn't get to make a choice like he did. This just happened to me. Survival instinct or something."
"Get her out of here."
"You can't do this! I-I can h-help you!"
Her father turned back to his microscope. "I don't need your kind of help."
"I can help him." She pleaded with Luke now, struggling as he hauled her to the door. "You wanted me to help him."
"That was before." She felt Luke's shoulders hitch in a careless shrug. "His word is final. His mission is mine. Go find your friends and get out of here."
He shoved her into the hallway.
She stumbled, tripped over her feet and shock and dropped to the floor. The cold tile was a stark contrast against the hot tears streaking down her face, pooling on the unforgiving floor.
Logic crept in. She had to move. Couldn't be here without a badge when the guard walked his rounds. How long did she have? Where could she hide?
Somehow she dragged herself up and crawled around the nearest corner. She would not let them watch her wallow in heartbreak and misery. Not that they would. They clearly had better things to do now that she had changed.
The grief was as vicious as a knife in her side, and she promised herself a proper cry once she found her way back to safety.
A little sputter of laughter bubbled up as she thought of how wrong Cali had been about her father. He couldn't, or didn't want to, help her. Hell, he might even be the powerful enemy of the line of blue-bubble healers she'd mentioned.
A small voice in her head, possibly related to her heart, protested her conclusions, but she was too hurt to bother with a better assessment. Using the wall for support, willing herself to put it all aside until she was safe, she plodded back in the direction of the morgue.
At least she hoped it was the right direction. Every intersection in this place looked just like all the others. There were numbers at each door. She thought the morgue had been a single digit and the numbers were decreasing, so she kept moving forward.
Each step took a little less effort than the last and she counted herself lucky security hadn't found her yet. Knowing it was only a matter of time, she started testing door handles, but all of them were locked. She swore. She was so bad at this ki
nd of thing.
Pushing forward, she paused at the next intersection. Looking one way, then the other, she realized there were miles of unrelenting hallways and she wasn't any closer to the morgue.
At least she didn't feel any closer.
She jerked back around the corner when she heard the squeak of a rubber shoe on the polished floor. The guard on his walk through. Frantic, she rushed back, hoping to find an unlocked restroom or closet.
Instead, after just a few paces, she bounced off an immovable, invisible wall.
She gasped as a familiar touch steadied her. "Jameson!"
"This way."
His hand was warm over hers and she saw a faint blue shimmer where they touched.
"Do me a favor and think cold thoughts." He'd pitched his voice low. "There may be infrared sensors and being together, we'll set them off all the faster."
She knew how to reduce a fever, so she applied the same concept now, tried to even pulse a little of that energy into Jameson.
"You're not wearing the contacts."
"Sorry. Not sure what happened to them after the..." She couldn't say it.
He tugged her around another identical corner and she tried not to giggle at the absurdity. She surely looked like an idiot running through the halls holding hands with an imaginary friend.
He swiped a badge through a card reader and they ducked into a dark room. "We'll rest here for a minute."
She nodded, realized he couldn't see her in the dark and murmured her agreement. To her complete embarrassment, her voice broke and more tears streamed down her cheeks.
"What did Conrad do to you?"
"N-nothing. Not him."
Jameson's arms came around her and she felt his hand in her hair, soothing her as he tucked her head to his shoulder. The odd fabric of his stealth suit was cool against her cheek and she was grateful for the dark. It would be too weird if she saw herself leaning on the invisible man.
"Where are the others?"
"Change of plans. Cali managed to duplicate the card. We'll catch up with them."
"Did Luke hurt them?"
"No. Not like I imagine he could have."
