"Move back, Mari," Sean insisted, raising his gun slightly, the smallest of warnings, but it was there. He kept a safe distance from her, watching her with wary eyes that would never miss so much as a twitch of her body.
Marigold took a step back, deliberately reluctant, never taking her gaze from Sean. He had always been one of the best at everything. There were no mistakes with Sean, none of the small breaches that would allow the possibility of exploiting weakness. Sean never let down his guard, and he was enhanced, every bit as strong and well trained as she was. More important, he was psychically enhanced. She'd tested his mind repeatedly and his shields were strong--impossible to penetrate. Going up against Sean was a losing proposition, but she didn't mind taunting him. Again she stopped, just out of the doorway, daring him to take action.
She was so angry with him for giving in, for allowing Whitney to use him when he saw what it did to the others--and she was certain she was right. Whitney had to be raising the testosterone levels in the men, doing something to make them more aggressive.
Sean shook his head. "You always have to push it, don't you?"
"Would you want to live like a prisoner your entire life?" She waved her hand to encompass the entire compound, watching the way his gaze jumped to the graceful movement. "I'll bet no one tells you when to go to bed at night, or what books you can read. There's not a camera in your room, is there, Sean?"
He stepped closer. "Get in your room. Lockdown's in three minutes." Even as he moved, he inhaled deeply.
Her heart jumped. She saw the flare of heat in his eyes. Adrenaline surged and for a moment she couldn't breathe. "You let them pair us." It was an accusation, her voice strangled, a shimmering fission of fear slidding down her spine. Why hadn't she suspected? It hadn't occurred to her that Sean would ever volunteer for the breeding program--not when he knew all the women objected strenuously and were forced to cooperate.
"You're the best choice, Mari," he said, tone practical even when his eyes moved over her possessively. "You're a strong psychic and so am I. Our children would be extraordinary." He lowered his voice and turned away from the camera so there was no possibility of lipreading. "I've always been attracted to you, ever since I first saw you, and you aren't an anchor and I am. I doubt any of the other men could handle your abilities. I don't think Whitney has a clue what you can or can't do."
Her mouth went dry. She forced her suddenly damp palm to remain still when she wanted to rub it up and down her thigh in agitation. Sean saw too much. He'd always been the guard she'd most feared. They had trained in hand-to-hand, and he could always, always, best her. Few of the guards could, even though she was so much smaller.
"And you don't mind Whitney experimenting on your child?" she challenged.
He studied her face for a long time before answering, his gaze once again shifting toward the camera. "Our child will be born to greatness." He used his chin to indicate the room. "Get inside now."
"I won't accept you, Sean," she warned. "I'm not going to give him another child to torture."
"I know that. I knew it when I made the decision. But I'm not standing by and watching some other man father your child. You'll accept me one way or another."
She stepped back inside the small cell that had been her home for these last few months. "I had so much respect for you, Sean. You were one of the few I did respect, but you're willing to become a monster in order to please the puppet master." She shook her head, sorrow shooting through her. "What about Brett?"
A flash of disgust crossed his face. He stepped forward, one hand sliding down her face, touching the bruises there. "He didn't get the job done, did he?"
Her stomach churned, a violent protest, but she stood her ground. "So you're taking his place? You think you can force me to conceive so Whitney can have another toy to play with?" She leaned forward, lowering her voice. "What happened, Sean? I thought you were one of us."
She knew the moment her breath warmed his skin that she'd made a terrible mistake. Whitney and his experiments with pheromones, along with pushing up the testosterone levels in the males, had created a dangerous, very explosive situation. He wanted aggressive soldiers and if he succeeded, he wanted children from those soldiers.
Sean reacted instantly to her scent, to the close proximity of her body. He wrapped his fingers around the nape of her neck and dragged her the scant inches separating them, his mouth coming down hard on hers. The cold metal of the rifle dug into her flesh as his fingertips dug into her skin.
She twisted her head out of the way, hands catching the rifle and jerking as her knee came up between his legs hard. Sean yanked her backward, off balance, spinning to the side to avoid her knee, whirling her around as he did so, his arm sliding beneath her chin in a choke hold.
Mari kept going, using her weight and momentum to put pressure on his arm, bending it away from her neck to try to get leverage against him. He had been trained in the same school as she had, and he was bigger and stronger. He knew exactly what her reaction would be and he was prepared for it. He wrapped his arm tighter and exerted pressure, succeeding in getting her in a headlock. Mari turned her head and bit him hard in the ribs, at the same time driving her thumb into the pressure point at the back of his knee. His leg buckled and he swore, folding in half quickly to keep from going down, dragging her with him, refusing to let go.
They ended up sprawled on the floor, Mari breathing hard, trying to ignore the pain shooting through her at the awkward position.
"Stop it, Mari," he hissed. "I'm not turning into another Brett." He leaned his weight on her, pinning her down.
She gathered her strength and was preparing to push him off of her, when the hall filled to a choking point with dark malevolence. The floor beneath them rippled and the walls around them undulated. Mari knew that presence and went very still beneath Sean, her heart pounding so hard she was afraid it might shatter. She knew that scent. That aura. The scent of his cunning malevolence. There was only one man that could make her stomach churn with such bile. Brett was coming.
"Sean." She whispered the name in despair. Sean had been a good friend and now he had betrayed her. Brett was coming, and if he touched her, she would never be able to stop from silently screaming, from spilling out waves of energy at the revulsion she felt at his touch, and Ken would know, and he would come, and the escape she had so carefully planned with the other women would be impossible.
Sean moved fast, faster than she imagined possible, leaping to his feet, yanking her up, and thrusting her into her cell with one hand, while he slammed his palm against the lock with the other. The heavy metal door slid closed with a terrible clang, leaving her in shock, helpless to do anything but watch as the two men circled each other.
CHAPTER 14
Ken moved back into deeper shadow, his gaze steady on the guard. The man was certainly engrossed in his book, and that told Ken a lot about the situation at the compound. Working at a secret laboratory was slow, tedious work. No one really considered that they come under attack or that anyone might try to break in. Most of the compound was underground, so any lost or stray hunter would find the fence, a small airstrip, and a few outbuildings. No one had come near the place for years, and Whitney had some pretty sophisticated warning systems. Apparently, the guards had been too long without incident. They had grown lazy and bored. He watched as the guard put his book down, but not once did he do more than give a cursory look around before walking along the fence line.
Ken waited until he was gone before consulting with his brother. "I'm not going to be able to hold off much longer before going in after Mari, Jack. We have to get this done and fast."
"You know we need better intel," Jack said. "I've asked for satellite views of the entire compound as well as infrared camera images to time the movement of the men. We have to have exact schematics of the entire compound--the layout, the height of the fence, and Lily will need to find someone who put the underground buildings together, so we know what we're fa
cing before we expose the team to danger. This base is very deceptive."
"It's layers. The top layer is what the outside world sees."
"Yes, a guarded facility with a few outbuildings and a landing strip. You've got to get Mari to tell you what's belowground."
"I already gave you what she told me. Four levels, Jack. It's made of concrete, so we know there are going to be a few hollow places like we've found in the military bases. It isn't as impregnable as Whitney would like."
"Look, Ken, we can't just storm in guns blazing. Clearly there are civilians working here, and Whitney has regular military soldiers mixed with his own personal army. I'd like to get the women and get out without anyone spotting us. The last thing we need to do is hit or get hit by a friendly."
"As far as I'm concerned, anyone working at this place is fair game."
"They're soldiers obeying orders. They don't have a clue Whitney is a madman. My guess is most of them have never seen him, talked to him, or even know he's here. Their assignment is top secret, the location is, and they do their rotation and get the hell out when the opportunity presents itself."
"You know, Jack, I really don't give a damn. You know as well as I do that when you've spent time somewhere, you know what's going on--and if you don't, you hear the rumors and you guess. That guard didn't give a damn if innocent women were being used for experimentation. And where the hell is the loyalty of the team Mari and the others trained with?"
Ken's voice was turning to ice. His gray eyes were glacier cold. Jack chose his words carefully. "I agree these are all questions we need to answer, Ken, but not here. Our primary mission is a rescue. That's why we're here."
"Someone has to take out Whitney. You know it's got to be done, Jack."
"Yeah, I know. I don't want to be the one explaining it to Lily, though." Jack took a slow swig of water and let it trickle down his throat, giving his brother a little more time. Jack had always been the one pushing for a quick answer, and the role reversal wasn't comfortable. "We have a lot of work to do before we bring in the team. They're standing by, Ken, so if we want to pull her out, we have to get to work. It'll be completely dark in another half hour or so."
"I can feel her. She's very upset. I've tried to reach out to her mind, but she isn't answering me. Whatever is happening, she doesn't want me to know about it." Ken's voice was strained. "And if she doesn't want me to know about it, something bad is going on."
Jack automatically touched his mind, as he'd been doing since they were toddlers, just as Ken knew he would. Ken was prepared and kept his shields high. It wasn't easy keeping Jack at bay; they'd been shadows in each other's mind for as long as either could remember, but both had worked hard to build shields once they became aware others had psychic power as well--and the practice paid off.
Jack didn't need to know just how close to cracking he was. In that moment, Ken didn't care about the other women, or even any innocents working as techs, researchers, or guards. If Mari didn't let him know she was all right very soon, he was going in after her, and God help anyone who got in his way. He felt murderous, not cold and unemotional. Discipline was going out the window fast.
"Ken, you think I don't know how you're feeling with her locked up with madmen?" Jack crawled into a better position, his gaze sweeping the route the guard had taken.
"Whitney went after Briony because she was pregnant; he wasn't stripping her naked and laying her out on an exam table for some perverted doctor to photograph. Damn it, Jack, I could feel him touching Mari. He wasn't acting like any doctor I've ever met. And Whitney has men in there willing to rape a woman if she isn't cooperative." The knots in his belly tightened into hard lumps that threatened to climb higher and choke him.
"You have to step back, bro," Jack said, keeping his voice steady. "We'll get the intel and get the women out as soon as possible." Ken didn't answer, and Jack sighed and glanced over at him. "You know I'll go in with you and pull her out if anything goes wrong. Tell her that, give her something to hang on to."
"If I told her that, she'd freak on me. She's willing to sacrifice herself for the other women. She considers them family and she's not going to willing come without them."
"Then we make it work," Jack said. "I wouldn't leave you behind. We can't ask her to do something we wouldn't be willing to do ourselves. She wouldn't be able to live with herself."
Ken bit back a retort. He hated it, but he knew Jack was right. He wanted to go in and haul Mari out over his shoulder and lock her somewhere safe, but he couldn't do that to her--at least not right now. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if something happened to the other women, so that meant getting them all out before he went off the deep end and took her out without her consent--which would make him nearly as bad as everyone else who had taken her life away from her. He had to give her time and the opportunity to get those she considered family safely away.
Mari was a woman who wanted control of her life--deserved control of her life. He was a man whose entire being demanded that he be the one in utter and complete control of those around him. He knew it appeared to people that Jack seemed the dominant twin, always in the lead, but Ken had realized early on that Jack needed to feel in control, in much the same way Mari did, and he had stepped back, watching over his brother carefully, always protecting him, providing the environment Jack needed.
Ken tried to remember when he'd first made the decision to be Jack's front man in social situations--it had to be right after their father had been killed. He had cultivated a smooth smile and quick intervention. Jack, like Ken, was a dead-on accurate shot. It was a gift both had been born with. They worked well as a team, each looking out for the other, Ken allowing Jack whatever he needed to be able to survive. But to do the same for Mari was impossible. He needed her to be safe. He needed that.
"We came in using the river to avoid detection, but our team will need to use high altitude, low opening parachutists," Ken said. "You know they aren't going to look up unless they hear something, and they won't hear a thing if our boys come in using HALO. Our team is trained, and I'd rather use them then people we're not as familiar working with. We can pull a few strings and cancel a commercial flight at the last moment. There's enough regular air traffic over the area that no one's going to perceive a threat if we take the commercial flight path and altitude. Whoever is doing the monitoring will never suspect a thing."
Jack nodded. "Definitely the best plan. The guards are not alert. Nothing's shaken them up in the last couple of years."
"Ryland's men can back us up, but call in Logan and tell him we want our unit for this one."
Jack nodded in agreement. "That's a given, Ken, and already done. The men know it's personal to you, and they're already assembled and waiting for the intel. They're not going to let you down."
Ken knew Jack was right, but it didn't unravel the knots in his belly. "I'm checking the doctor's house. He just went in." He indicated the small bluff overlooking the cottages. "I'll work my way down to that point and go in from there. You cover me."
"Checking the doctor's house for what?" Jack asked. "You can't just go in there and blow this for us."
"He took pictures of her."
"That's his job. He had to have left them in the laboratory."
"I'm making certain. And I'm going to find out where in the laboratory he left them."
"Damn it, Ken. You can't take a chance on tipping anyone off to the fact that we're here. Just stay put."
"He's got pictures and he knows where the other pictures are. He touched her, Jack--when she was helpless and he was supposed to be examining her impersonally--he touched her."
Mari had toned her emotions down, had even pulled away from him, but not before he'd caught the distaste, the feeling of utter helplessness, the mixture of sorrow, despair, and impotent rage that he knew intimately. He couldn't get Mari out of there and away to somewhere safe in that moment, but he sure as hell could pay the doctor a little visit. He might never be
able to give Mari all the things she deserved--like a stable, easygoing partner--but he could hand the pictures--and her dignity--back to her.
Jack rubbed his mouth to keep from protesting. Nothing was going to stop Ken and Jack couldn't blame him. If it was Briony, the man would already be dead. For the first time in his life, Jack feared for his brother's sanity. Mari was an unknown, but she was his wife's twin sister and his brother's chosen woman and that made her both important and a threat to his family's well-being.
Ken was, and always had been, a dangerous man. He was, by turns, controlled and deliberate, cold and efficient, and always capable of swift and brutal violence if the situation called for it. Where Jack was easy for those around him to read, Ken appeared easygoing and affable. The men in their unit found him much more approachable. Jack had always known on some level that Ken had forced himself to be the "front" man in an effort to protect his twin. He hadn't realized, until now, how foreign that behavior had been to Ken's nature.
Ken had the same hidden demons--the same nightmares and fears--and he had an even stronger dose of their father's legacy--the dark jealousies and need for swift and violent retribution. Ken had worn a mask all those years, hiding--even from his twin--the rage seething just below the surface. Between the trauma of his recent capture and torture and meeting Mari, Ken's way of life had been turned upside down. The smooth, easygoing facade was gone.
Jack sighed and glanced at his watch. "Don't get caught. I'd hate to have to kill anyone before we even get started."
Ken reached out to tap his brother's knuckles with his own in their familiar silent ritual. He scooted back into the foliage, careful to keep the thin branches from swaying as he passed through. Moving at a snail's pace, Ken inched his way down the hillside until he was within a few yards of the cottage he was fairly certain was the doctor's. The small house was set just a little apart from the other houses, and security was tighter. The guards walked the perimeter every ten minutes, two of them, switching their routine continually. The doctor had something to hide.
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