Sanctuary Breached WITSEC Town Series Book 3

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Sanctuary Breached WITSEC Town Series Book 3 Page 23

by Lisa Phillips


  **

  Genevieve struggled against his grip, her teeth clenched. Grant had discarded the needle to the floor across the room. Perched on the desk, he held her in front of him with his legs around hers and her wrist in his hand. The phone was in the other.

  “I understand that, General. However—”

  “I get you’re close to this, Grant. I know how I’d feel if my family were in that situation. But I can’t send a drone, or an F15, or even a pigeon without breaking protocol. They’re cut off for a reason, and I don’t much like it either, but it is what it is. You want me to start a war on American soil. We are going to follow emergency protocols in this. Not chuck them out at the first spark of doubt when we don’t know anything is wrong.”

  “Of course something is wrong. They’ve been infiltrated by mercenaries.”

  “There is more than enough skill in that town to take care of four guys.”

  “They have no doctor.”

  “They have what they need.” The general sighed. “I might be able to drop a payload of supplies. Just in case.”

  John still wouldn’t be able to call for help until the satellite allowed them to reconnect. Until then, there was no signal, and no way to call for help. Which stopped the mercenaries from using GPS, or calling out. But if anyone in Sanctuary needed emergency medical attention they were out of luck.

  Grant couldn’t shake the mental image of Pat on the ground bleeding out, with no one to help him. “Anything you can do, I’d appreciate it.”

  “I have another call to take. Check back, Director.”

  “Of course, General.” Grant hung up.

  Genevieve squirmed, but he didn’t let go. By now her wrist had to be smarting, but Grant needed to know why she’d tried to stick him.

  “What’s in the needle?”

  She didn’t meet his gaze.

  “Gen.”

  “It’s supposed to make you sleepy.” Her voice was small, full of remorse.

  “Because I tried to call the air base in Idaho and get help for John? And for Pat?”

  She winced. “I couldn’t let you call out. I had to stop you doing anything that might tip the scales.”

  “You mean anything that would help John?”

  Tears spilled down her cheeks, but he steeled himself against babying her. Her breath hitched. “I love your brother and Pat. Andra. I would never do anything to hurt them. They’re not the targets. That doctor and Beth Myerson are. But they’re not in danger, not if they just tell the men where the thing is.”

  “It’s a missile, Genevieve. They want to kill thousands if not millions of people.”

  She gasped.

  “And you’re helping them?”

  “I had to. I had no choice.”

  “There’s always a choice, Genevieve.” The syndicate had dug up something that she was keeping from him. Something big enough she would betray him and hurt their family just to keep a secret.

  She shook her head. “I had to do it.”

  Grant moved her to a chair and set her in it. He stood over her, dared her to make a run for it. He was beyond the place where he could have any compassion for his wife. Did she really think they would ever get past something like this?

  “Tell me all of it from the beginning.”

  Genevieve hugged herself and sucked in choppy breaths. “A few months ago I was approached at lunch by this man. Older. Expensive suit, well-spoken. Lunch went long. We talked business and then politics. Everything. It was nice, and I didn’t think anything of it. A week after that he showed up at a different restaurant I was at. Serendipity, he called it. He explained his interest in an endeavor, and there was so much passion I was sucked up in it. He told me they were trying to find a doctor who had been helping them. I felt for him, for the troubles he was having finding her and getting back what she stole.”

  He could see where this was going. It was a classic approach. Befriend the asset and then slowly bring them around until they were completely on board.

  “I didn’t think anything of it. I wanted to help.”

  “I know you did.”

  “But when I asked what I could do, he said he only needed one thing when the time was right. I said I would help if I could.” She sniffed. “I didn’t know it would be this.”

  “I know that, too.” He knew she wouldn’t have done something like this without being pushed into it. “So how did you get from there to drugging me?”

  She winced. “When he told me it had to do with you and with Sanctuary—he knew all about the town—I knew it wasn’t right. I was about to call you when he showed me pictures of the girls. Out at the mall. Driving. He said he’d have hated to see them get in an accident, if they weren’t being careful enough.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I told him I would tell Ben everything.”

  Not Grant, his brother. It wasn’t a bad idea, given all Ben could do when he didn’t have to adhere to bureaucratic rules. That didn’t mean Grant had to like it. “What did the man say?”

  “He had a picture of me, from when I was in college. You know some of the things I did, and I’m not proud of them. But if it got out now it would undermine my position with certain companies and some of the more conservative non-profit organizations that I assist.”

  Grant nodded.

  “You understand?”

  “No, Gen. I don’t. Not at all.”

  “But—”

  “You lied to me, kept secrets. You betrayed my trust, tried to harm me. And you put this family in danger to save face.”

  “They were going to hurt the girls!”

  “You should have told Ben anyway.”

  “He can’t fix everything. Even he told me that.”

  Grant slumped back onto the edge of the desk. “You and I have a serious problem, Gen.” He strode across the room and lifted the needle with two fingers. In the kitchen, he found a zip-closure plastic baggie and deposited it inside.

  “That’s it?”

  He turned to her. “What am I supposed to say? Aside from the fact I’m packing my bags and letting you know that I’ll tell the girls the trial period of reconciliation didn’t work.”

  Grant walked out.

  **

  “I cannot believe he did that!”

  Remy rolled her eyes. “We know. You’ve told us a million times already.”

  Beth paced to the rhythm of Sam Tura chuckling. The big man’s chest shook with it. “What does he think he’s—”

  Remy started to argue. “Can you—”

  “Enough.” Sonny stood up. His tailored shirt and slacks fit his toned frame. Only his face and hair bespoke his age. “Everyone sit.”

  Beth collapsed onto the couch beside Tura. She wanted to mumble some more. After all, her husband had locked her in and then left her here. And for what? So he could finish this himself of course. He was a SEAL taking care of his own business. Business that involved his team. But that didn’t mean she had to like it.

  “Man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do, darlin’.”

  “I know that, Sam. But a woman has to complain about it. Repeatedly. Usually to her girlfriends over a glass of wine and after the ritual viewing of a chick flick and liberal application of Ben and Jerry’s. But I’m pregnant, and I don’t have any of that, anyway! There aren’t even any muffins down here.”

  Tura’s chest shook.

  “You don’t have to laugh at me.”

  He slung his tree-trunk arm around her shoulders. “Want me to dig you up a snack?”

  There was a kitchenette, but the supplies were more like powdered beef stew. Beth’s stomach turned over. “No thanks.”

  “Tea, then.” Remy slapped her hands on her legs and stood.

  Louis, another of the Italian old men, eyed her as she walked to the kitchenette. “If you’d just told the sheriff where this thing is, we wouldn’t have to hide down here.”

  Michael snorted. “You should be grateful you’re here with us and no
t under the Meeting House with your wife nagging in your ear every second.”

  “Why do you think I volunteered for this?” Louis cracked a smile, but no one laughed.

  Sam shifted down more into the couch. “Is what it is.” He seemed close to napping, but she’d learned not to be fooled. These people were capable of more than she could process, and in Sam and Louis’s case, also lethal.

  She was glad they were here with her. Even if it was excruciatingly boring. “So we just sit here? Is that it?”

  Hal turned from the bank of computers that gave them a view of Main Street, some of the forest, and a half-dozen other strategic places around town. He still didn’t look fully recovered from his run-in with Abigail.

  Hal said, “I can show you updates. Or do you just want to know where Sam is and what he’s doing, so you can yell at him when he gets back?”

  Did she want to know?

  For years Beth had understood he operated in dangerous situations, and he’d taken the time to show her some of his skills. He could do his job and protect himself and his men. But now? She could see him at work.

  “Think on it.” Hal turned back to the screens, scrolling through. The images were a grainy black and white, but it was enough to make out the terrain. A few of the places she knew, like the hot spring.

  Beth spied something at the corner of the screen, got up, and strode over. “Go back.”

  Hal glanced at her for a second and then at the screen. He flicked back to a static image of a path. Trees. “What do you see?”

  She pointed to the corner of the screen. “There.”

  It was a black spot on the corner, but she knew it. The end of Sam’s leg and, “That’s Sam’s boot.” She should know. She’d picked them up from the floor where he’d discarded them plenty of times.

  The boot didn’t move. The leg never shifted.

  “Why is he lying on the ground?”

  **

  John disengaged the lock and admitted Matthias. The younger man’s face was a knot of worry. “What is it?”

  “Shots fired.” Matthias had his rifle with him and his radio.

  “I should—”

  “Go.” Matthias nodded. “I got this.” He motioned with a nod of his head to the room at large. Frannie came over and stepped into his arm as he pulled her to his side.

  “Andra will brief you on Andy.” John’s gaze swept over his boy, playing video games with the other kids, and his wife, who sent him a nervous smile.

  “They need you out there.” Matthias held out his hand, and they grasped each other’s forearm.

  In the hall, John waited until Matthias shut the door behind him and he heard it close properly. No one could get in unless someone let them in. Unless they knew the code.

  He took the stairs two-at-a-time, emerging onto the roof at a run. “What’s happening?”

  Bolton shook his head. “You’re not going to like this.” He explained then said, “Tommy is loose. Daire went after him. The other two are dead.”

  “And Sam?”

  Bolton shrugged. “He’s down.”

  “I’m going to head out after him. Keep on Daire and Tommy; try and figure out where they’re going. We only have twelve hours until the next stage of protocols is enacted. I’d like to have this cleared up before the military assumes we’ve been taken over.”

  Bolton gave him a short nod. “Me too.”

  The next stage, assuming the town had been overtaken by some type of insurgent, meant the military sent in F15s to “test” fire, like they were on a routine exercise. The damage would cut off their power and water supplies.

  John blew out a breath. “Stay in touch.”

  “Yeah, boss.”

  He turned away, shaking his head. The Jeep would be too noisy, and he wouldn’t see an attack coming if Tommy went for him, so John grabbed Frannie’s bike from behind the bakery and cycled up the path behind the park to where Bolton directed him. Sure enough, Sam was lying in the grass, eyes closed.

  John found the bullet hole in his shirt, just above his heart. But there was no blood. “Get up, brother.” He shook the SEAL and then pulled at his shirt where the hole was. The bullet was a mangled piece of metal lodged in his vest. “Ouch.”

  Those hurt a lot; he knew from experience. Sam had to be winded, and he’d be sporting a bruise for a couple of weeks.

  “Time to get up.”

  Sam didn’t move.

  “You’re going to let Gun defeat you like this? Winded. Out for the count. So sad. Such potential and you’ve wasted it lying here like a dishrag.”

  Sam coughed. Groaned. His eyes fluttered open. “You were saying?”

  John sat back on his heels. “I had to come all this way to save your sorry butt, didn’t I?”

  “I was just resting my eyes.”

  “Tommy is on the loose. Daire is in pursuit. You want Ben’s man to steal your thunder?”

  Sam grabbed John’s hand and let him pull him up. “No, I do not.” Sam winced, but John let him think he hadn’t seen it. “I’m good to go.”

  John shook his head. SEALs. They were all alike.

  Sam was already walking away. “Are you coming, Grandma?”

  John grinned to his back. “Now you want my help? You seem to be doing okay on your own. Two for one, and now there’s only Tommy to worry about.”

  “That’s the problem,” Sam called back over his shoulder. “Tommy thinks he beat me. He thinks he’s going to win.”

  Sam was going to do everything in his power to make sure that didn’t happen. But there would always be the possibility he might fail, an idea that sat like lead in his stomach.

  God, is Tommy going to win?

  Chapter 21

  “Why didn’t you simply destroy it?”

  Remy didn’t want to talk about this, but Louis kept asking question after question. “The compound is unstable. It has to be neutralized, but I would have to figure out how to safely do that. I’d need a lab and time. Neither of which I had when the president decided to send me here.”

  “And if those men get their hands on it?”

  She glanced around the bland walls then back to where the men and Beth sat around on the couches. Remy folded her arms as she leaned back against the wall. She couldn’t sit, not now. “They’ll give it to the syndicate, who will release the compound into the atmosphere so it attacks anyone who breathes it in.”

  “What does it do?” Michael’s voice was softer than Louis’, but she’d rather face straightforward questions than compassion. What good would that do?

  “The compound attacks the immune system. I was asked to design something to show researchers which subjects had poorer immunities in order for them to study ways to protect them.” When she got more than one horrified look, she added, “Like with rats or mice.

  “But later I discovered they were going to use it as a weapon that would attack the immune system. Anyone sick already or a person who is immunocompromised would get sick and likely die from any number of diseases. It’s a cocktail of viruses, essentially—one which would be fatal to someone not vaccinated or not able to fight it off. Hospitals and doctors would be overwhelmed, sicknesses would spread, and medical supplies would be stretched thin. Without enough to treat every illness in every person, the death toll would be considerable.”

  “And you made this?” Louis’s eyes were dark.

  What was one more person in the world who hated her?

  “It was for research purposes. Plenty of lethal substances are used under strict measures to help discover new ways to shore up people’s health. It’s about science.”

  She was used to people not understanding it. Many she’d met had been baffled by her thought processes, theories, and applications ever since she’d started having independent ideas. This was nothing new. She just didn’t usually bother trying to justify herself. At least not to people who would never understand. Beth had tried, but their relationship wasn’t based on Beth understanding Remy’s la
test project—and neither was it dependent on Remy’s ability to discern a plié from a pirouette.

  “Tell us where it is.” Louis’ voice was measured, a steady authority that cautioned against defiance. “We can bury it hundreds of feet underground where no one will ever find it.” He motioned to the screens. “Can you honestly tell me there’s no way these men aren’t going to find it?”

  Remy looked away. “You would need a container you can be sure would never corrode. It would also have to withstand metric tons of earth sitting on top of it for years.”

  She preferred the military’s secret base idea. There had to be other things they were hiding. What was one more? So long as they could guarantee her that it would be safeguarded and not used.

  “I didn’t say it would be easy.” Louis studied her. “So you haven’t buried it, or at least, not far down?”

  Did he think she was going to tell him? One suitcase contained the warhead and the other the compound. Both were dangerous in their own right, but together they would give the syndicate the ability to destroy countless lives.

  “It’s safe.” And so were they. “If you hide it somewhere else, you’ll never be able to guarantee it will be secure. I know where it is. I’m the only one, and that’s the way it’s going to stay.”

  She hadn’t even told Shadrach, and Remy trusted him more than she’d ever trusted anyone in her life. More even than her family. Beth wouldn’t be able to be objective about this the way Remy was—she was too close to it. Sam’s involvement meant that right about now Beth hated Remy. Beth might have come here to get the location of the warhead and the compound, but she didn’t really want to be involved in securing it. She would leave that to Sam, John, and Grant.

  That was way too many people involved. It was better to keep the number of people who knew its exact whereabouts down to the minimum. Remy needed to do this herself, if it was going to be done properly.

  “Incoming.” Hal’s declaration made her push off the wall and walk over. Louis did the same, even as he eyed her like she was a disappointment.

 

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