Acceptable Risks

by Natalie J. Damschroder

  After a frustrating half hour searching, she found a set of keys she hoped would start the bike and a shoulder holster that wouldn’t fit no matter how much she adjusted it. Damn, she’d have to leave the weapon behind. She felt vulnerable, but she’d be no good to anyone with a hole in her butt.

  The wind would be cold during the ride, so she shrugged on a zip-up sweatshirt from the front hall closet. The sleeves needed rolling six times, and the hem came halfway to her knees, but it would be warm and add protection on the ride. After double-checking the route to Nils’ house on a map and committing all the side roads to memory, she went out to the garage to uncover the bike.

  The Suzuki sport bike was different from the little Ducati her ex owned, but the principle would be the same. She hoped. It was a big machine. She was surprised to find the tank full. Her father must have had it gassed and everything when he knew Jason was going to be released.

  She swung her leg over. Her toes just touched the ground, but the bike had exquisite balance and wasn’t hard to keep up. One of the storage compartments had a garage door opener in it. She hit the button and watched it slowly reveal the driveway and dark, empty street outside. Taking a deep breath, she started the bike, maneuvered out of the garage, and roared off to save Jason.

  Or something.

  * * *

  Gabby huddled against the dirt wall, her legs drawn up on the rough blankets on the floor, and tried to hide her shivering from Matthew. He hadn’t said much over the last hour—it was hard to know how much time was passing, sitting here with nothing to do in the dark—and he was probably trying to come up with a plan. She didn’t want him to see her as weak and therefore a liability. Getting herself captured had certainly caused him problems.

  “Are you cold?” he asked.

  “No.” She hugged her knees tighter to stop the shuddering, but realized the move just proved her lie. She forced herself to relax and added, “I’m fine.”

  But then he was beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, and Gabby no longer cared if he thought her weak as long as he kept touching her.

  “I messed things up for you, didn’t I?”

  “No. Isaac did that.” Matthew’s tone was light and easy, and it relaxed Gabby even though she knew he was lying.

  “I’ll do anything you want me to,” she told him.

  His arm tightened briefly around her shoulders. “Anything?”

  She smiled, wishing he meant the double entendre but knowing he couldn’t possibly.

  “Anything. Well—please don’t ask me to shoot someone.”

  He chuckled. “I won’t.”

  “But I’ll play sick, or whack someone over the head with a hammer, or whatever.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind.”

  He went silent again. They sat that way for a few minutes. His warmth seeped into her, stopping the shivers and then filling her with a level of comfort she shouldn’t be feeling, given the circumstances. Gabby wanted to ask Matthew how he’d gotten himself abducted and what he thought Isaac’s plan was, but realized there were things she knew that he didn’t. Maybe telling him would get him talking and bypass the old-fashioned chivalrous streak that drove him to protect her. The reason was less that she was a woman and more that she wasn’t an agent—but it was still misplaced.

  “I talked to Jason today. At least,” she amended, “I think it was today. When did you disappear?”

  “Today.” She could hear the smile in his voice.

  “Okay, good. Anyway, I saw Lark and Jason this morning after they found out you were captured.”

  The hand rubbing her arm went still. “What do you mean, after they found out I was captured?”

  Gabby opened her mouth, then closed it. She realized they hadn’t actually said Matthew was abducted. She’d inferred it and they never corrected her. Maybe she didn’t have as much information as she thought she did.

  “Someone claiming to be you left me a message to compile all my data on Jason and his treatment and give him the flash drive when he came to see me,” she explained. “I couldn’t reach you, and then Jason called me and told me to meet him and Lark in town.” She described the meeting. “Jason said the call hadn’t come from you, or if it had, you’d been coerced. So I guess I assumed you’d been…” How to say it without insulting him? “Taken. I went back to the lab and erased the flash drive, protected all the data, and you know the rest.”

  Matthew’s chest expanded under her as he took a slow, deep inhale. “When did you last talk to them? Is Lark okay?”

  “This afternoon. She’s fine. Tough.”

  He let out the breath, just as slowly. “Tell me again what happened this morning.”

  She repeated everything, adding as much detail as she could. “Was it you who called? Were you drugged?”

  “I didn’t call. But it’s not that hard to fake my voice. It’s not distinctive. No accent or special tone.”

  It was distinctive to her. But then again, maybe not, since she’d been fooled.

  “Well?” she prodded.

  “Well what?”

  She pursed her lips in frustration. That hadn’t worked as she’d hoped. “Well, do you have, you know, anything to say about that?”

  “It helps fill in some blanks, thank you.”

  “Matthew!”

  He sat, still, his hard chest barely moving under her shoulder. “What are you getting at, Gabby?”

  Her breath caught at the sound of her first name in his voice. “I want to know what you know,” she managed.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  She sighed. “You think Isaac will torture it out of me or something.”

  “There are other reasons.”

  But he didn’t deny that he thought she was weak. Blinking back stupid tears of hurt feelings, she pulled away and stood, walking to the center of the room and squinting upward, trying to see between the cracks.

  “I’m sure I ruined whatever plans you had. Have you come up with a new one yet?”

  “I’m working on it.” His voice came from the spot where they’d sat. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t followed.

  “I can help.” Her voice broke on the final word, and now she sensed him approach. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, laying them on her own crossed over her stomach. She sighed and twisted her hands to hold on.

  “Gabby, I’m sorry,” he murmured next to her ear. She gasped at the spear of need that went through her, his body so close, his voice so intimate. It took her a second to refocus and hear his next words.

  “They’re probably listening,” he whispered. He turned her to see the intercom set into the dirt wall. “Cry.”

  Again, it was several heartbeats before she understood. He wanted her to cover his words with fake weeping. She sniffled and pressed the back of her hand against her mouth to stifle a sob.

  “Good. Keep going.”

  She let out a few whimpers and sniffled again, letting the tears that had welled a moment ago spill over.

  “My sister-in-law came to see me after ten years of silence,” he breathed. “I knew Isaac had sent her, knew she was going to try something. I let her so I could get close to Isaac.”

  It didn’t seem to have worked, Gabby thought even as she nursed her longing and sense of rejection to feed her crying. And Jason would kill him when he found out. But she only nodded and sobbed a little louder.

  “I was going to escape if he didn’t show up soon, but now he’s got you, and that won’t be easy.”

  So she had messed up his plans. Crap. Still, he’d come up with something, she knew he would.

  “Why don’t you try to sleep,” he said louder, lifting his hands to rub her upper arms. Then he whispered, “I need to think.”

  “Okay. I’ll try.” She went to the pallet and lay down, but spent the next long, immeasurable stretch of time watching Matthew pace, and letting her mind worry over the problem.

  Then she had an idea.

  * * * />
  The pain was horrendous.

  Jason had never felt anything like it, not before the accident or since, not even with the unexpected, counter-intuitive results of the nerve regeneration therapy.

  Every one of those regrown nerves, plus all the new ones, seemed to be vibrating at once. He couldn’t move, couldn’t see, couldn’t even hear. It was amazing he had any capacity to think.

  Slowly, the pain faded from a blaze to a burn to prickles and tingles, and he concentrated on not moving or groaning or giving Nils any idea that he was recovering. He was vulnerable to an enemy in a way he had never been before, and it seriously pissed him off. Why hadn’t he thought of a Taser? It was the perfect weapon for someone like Nils, someone without much skill or body mass, facing a bigger, better opponent.

  Awareness slowly faded in. He was lying on the floor, probably the wood floor in the hallway, or maybe half in, half out of the room. Moisture on his cheek told him he’d drooled, though he didn’t seem to have released any other body fluids, thank God. Nils paced near his feet, talking to someone on the phone.

  “He’s totally incapacitated. I can handle him.”

  Jason’s right leg spasmed, and his boot thudded on the floor. He squinted in time to see Nils’ eyes widen as he stood frozen, staring at Jason’s leg.

  “Just tell me what you want me to say. Or ask. Or do—do I bring him there, to put in with Matt and the doctor?”

  Jason stifled a groan as random zings shot through his extremities and his fingers shook. They’d taken Gabby to wherever they held Matt. That was good, in some ways. It was easier to rescue two people if they were together. Saved time and research. On the other hand, getting two people out of a secure area unnoticed was three times harder than one.

  “Okay,” Nils said, sounding a little less nervous. “I can do that. No, you don’t have to—I can—yes. Yes. I said I can. Okay.” Nerves had turned to irritation.

  Footsteps signaled Nils’ approach, and Jason kept his eyes closed, trying to hold on to any advantage he could. Controlled movement was still beyond his capability. Where was his gun?

  Nils came around his right shoulder and hauled on his collar with a grunt. Jason was dead weight, but Nils managed to lift his upper body a little and drag him across the wood. Jason’s arms dangled, and his boot heels caught on the grooves between floor planks.

  Nope. Not capable of controlled movement yet.

  He let his head loll as Nils, panting and grunting, got him into a chair. As soon as he let go, Jason slid to the floor in a heap. He tested his fingers as he went. They wiggled.

  “Fucking shitting Goddamned frackle.” Nils didn’t try the chair again. Instead, he shoved Jason into a sitting position against a ratty old couch, as Jason could see between his slitted eyelids.

  “Can you hear me?” Nils yelled next to Jason’s ear. Jason scowled and punched Nils in the side of the head. Or he tried to—his arm jerked, but didn’t lift more than an inch off the floor.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” Still huffing and muttering under his breath, Nils tied something around Jason’s right wrist, then lifted it into his lap and reached for his left wrist. Jason let his right hand fall back to the floor.

  “Goddammit!”

  Jason smirked. Nils didn’t notice.

  Eventually, Nils managed to get Jason’s two hands together and looped a clothesline-type rope around them. Jason was gradually regaining full feeling, and as he did he could sense his level of muscular control, but he let Nils think he was still incapacitated. He might get more information out of the guy if Nils believed he had the advantage.

  “All right.” Wiping sweat off his forehead with his sleeve, Nils collapsed into the chair he’d tried to put Jason in. “Let’s talk.”

  “Okay.” Jason wasn’t happy with the slurred sound of his voice. He flexed his arms and shifted his legs, but only a little. If he moved too much, Nils might tie his ankles, too. Or shock him again.

  “Man, that was fun.” Nils’ face practically split with a pleased grin. “Big bad agent man, ready to take me down, falling on the floor like a rag doll.” He jolted, arms and legs flopping in mockery of Jason. “How did it feel?”

  “Joyous. Great fun.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought. With all those extra nerves, we figured it would hit you hard.”

  The confirmation that they knew so much about his treatment didn’t sit well. “You knew I was coming here?” That sounded better. Less drunk, anyway.

  Nils heaved a sigh. “It wasn’t hard to guess. Dr. Berwell talked to you. Then she disappeared. I told Isaac we were better off leaving her alone, with all that protective instinct you guys wallow in, but he wanted her expertise.”

  “Expertise for what?” Jason’s temper rose, fed by frustration that nothing made sense. “What the hell is Isaac trying to do?”

  Nils looked cagey. “You think I’m going to spill the story, like some B-movie villain? I’m smarter than that, Templeton.”

  Keep thinking that. “Then I guess the plan isn’t to kill me.”

  “Hell, no, you’d be no good to us then.”

  “That’s encouraging.” A spasm went through Jason’s back, followed by a smaller one in his left thigh. He gritted his teeth and hissed a breath, worried that the cramping would start again, and kind of surprised it hadn’t already. He was in deep shit if it did.

  Neither of them spoke for a few minutes. Jason waited for Nils to get tired of the silence and start bragging or something, but he either had more stamina than Jason had calculated, or more fear. He jerked his arms up a few inches and Nils jumped. More fear, then. So Jason would start.

  “Where’s Gabby, Nils?”

  “Not tellin’.”

  “You have someone you need put back together?”

  Nils frowned. “No. Why would you ask that?”

  “Because you said you need Gabby’s expertise. She’s a doctor.”

  “Oh. Yeah. Well.” He shifted in his seat and fluttered the fingers of one hand. “Expertise with—well, with you.”

  “Because she put me back together.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you want to know how she did that.”

  Nils pressed his lips together. Jason could probably get more by offering more. “Matt thinks Isaac wants to sell the technology.”

  Nothing.

  “Just the RT-24, though?”

  Nils’ eyes flicked to one side.

  “That’s what I thought. Not the orthopedic glue or the muscle-tissue compound. Why not?”

  Nils stuck the side of his thumb in his mouth and gnawed.

  “Not cutting-edge enough? Other people out there are working on it, right?”

  Nils’ free arm went around his waist and tightened. He gnawed harder on the thumb.

  “The RT-24 is brand new,” he pressed, cataloging Nils’ continued non-verbal responses. “Revolutionary, even. But who would want to buy technology designed to help people?”