by Vicki Hinze
Seth pretended not to see him but made sure his voice was loud enough to carry. “I told Dr. Julia I’d check on you everyday while she’s away.”
“You did?” Jeff’s smile got broader. “Every day?”
Camden’s grimace deepened. “Yeah,” Seth said. “You know how women are. Worrywarts.”
“Yeah.” Jeff’s nod nearly cracked his neck. “Worrywarts.”
Seth bit back a smile. Jeff loved it. Knowing Julia was worrying about him made him feel safe, as if he mattered. And, of course, he did. “So is that okay with you?”
“It’s not okay with me.” Camden came off the porch and walked three steps down the sidewalk, toward the fence.
Seth looked down at the man, debating. He couldn’t hit him; he’d kill him. And though he had left the Special Forces, his hands and feet were still considered lethal weapons. Camden might deserve killing, but if Seth did it, then he’d be in prison. He couldn’t help the boy from prison. He had to give diplomacy a try. It’d set a better example for Jeff and keep Julia off his back.
Seth turned a cool gaze on Camden. “Why would you object?” he asked, letting the implication that Camden had something to hide hang between them.
He went red. “Who the hell are you?”
“Dr. Seth Holt.” Seth didn’t offer to shake the man’s hand, not that Camden had ventured within reach. He’d stopped a good twelve feet away.
“I don’t want you around my son.”
“Last I checked, this was a public sidewalk.” Seth folded his arms across his chest. “Are you saying I’m committing a crime by standing on a public sidewalk?”
“I’m saying I want you to stay away from my kid.”
Seth glanced down and saw that Jeff had paled. Not wanting to upset the boy, he softened his expression and his voice. “Jeff, you’ve got some dirt on your face. I don’t want to have to tell Dr. Julia your face was dirty. How about you go wash it up, so I can tell her you were spit-shine clean?”
He dropped his voice so only Seth could hear. “Are you and Dad gonna . . . talk?”
Seth nodded.
“Don’t hurt him, okay?”
Damn it. “I won’t.”
The little skeptic gave him the once-over. “You look awfully mad.”
“I know, but mad men don’t always hit.”
“Promise?”
Gritting his teeth, Seth staved off a sigh. “Yeah, I promise.”
Jeff ran up the walk, giving his father a wide berth, paused on the porch to look back and double-check Seth, then went on into the house.
When the door slammed shut, Seth turned his attention back to Jeff’s father. “Camden, let me be perfectly clear. Jeff is my friend, and I am going to check on him every day. That isn’t negotiable.”
“The hell you say. You can’t stick your nose in my personal business.”
“I’m using every ounce of restraint I possess to keep from kicking your ass for beating on a kid,” Seth warned him. “Now, I can check on Jeff without you causing any grief, or you can cause grief, I’ll kick your ass, and then check on him anyway.” Seth shrugged. “Your choice. I’m up for either.”
Camden’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “Don’t come on my property. You come on my property, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing.”
Seth stiffened his stance. “You’ll let me see Jeff whenever and wherever, or I’ll have the cops riding your back, nonstop.”
“Don’t threaten me, Holt.”
“No threat.” Seth would report the bruises to the social worker and to the cops, and he’d call them daily for a report. In his experience, cops had a low tolerance level for men who beat up on kids. “It’s a solemn promise. I saw the bruise.”
Camden paused on the first step up to the porch and looked back at Seth. “What?”
“I saw the bruise.” Seth let his anger seep into his voice. “Don’t hurt the boy anymore.”
“He fell playing football.”
“Sure he did.” Seth grimaced. “It’s a little tricky to bruise your inner and outer arm, your armpit, and your ribs by falling down, Camden.”
“He did fall,” Camden insisted.
“Okay, fine. Let’s keep this simple. I don’t give a damn how he gets bruised, if I see another one on him, I’m holding you responsible.”
“What gives you the right—”
“You grab the boy hard enough to leave a bruise that covers half his body, and you want to talk to me about rights?” Losing it. Control slipping. Promised Jeff. Seth took in a deep breath and dropped his voice to just above a whisper. “I’m holding you responsible.”
“Okay. All right. You can see him.”
Typical. Back a little big-man against the wall and he folds, provided you’re big enough to stomp him.
The front door swung open and Jeff ran outside, up to the fence, and then cranked back his neck. “This okay?”
Seth leashed his rage, forced himself to relax, and then looked down at Jeff’s upturned face.
He’d washed it, all right. But only it. A thin rim of mud circled his jaw line. The face was clean, but his throat and neck were dust covered and mud splotched from water droplets. Seth nearly laughed. “Looks good to me.”
Camden slipped into the house.
“Dr. Seth?”
“Yes, Jeff?”
He licked at his lips, then stared up at Seth. “Thank you for checking on me.”
Hell, when a kid looked up at you as awed as if you were Michael Jordan, what was a measly couple hours of driving time and a few phone calls? “No problem, buddy. That’s what friends are for.”
“Yeah, buddy.” Jeff smiled.
The warmth in it captured a corner of Seth’s heart, and he smiled back. “Yeah.”
Jeff tapped the tip of his shoe against the metal fence, and his smile faded. “Dr. Seth?”
“What is it, Jeff?”
“Buddies don’t lie to buddies, right?”
“Buddies don’t lie period.”
“I didn’t have my listening ears on, but I heard Dad when he yelled at you.” Jeff rubbed at his bruise. “I didn’t fall playing football.”
Admitting that took guts. And of all the people in the world he could have chosen to trust, Jeff had picked him. The kid had courage—and he’d snagged another corner of Seth’s heart.
Honored and humbled, Seth squatted down. He curled his fingers through the wire fencing and around Jeff’s tiny ones, and then looked the boy straight in the eye. “I know, son.”
Jeff’s eyes stretched wide. “He told you?”
“No.” Hard to admit even to Jeff, even after all these years. But necessary. “My dad used to get mad and hit, too.”
“Did you have to live with him?”
“No. I lived with strangers.” Twenty-three foster homes in twelve years.
“You didn’t have nobody to love you, neither?”
“Just myself,” Seth said, then winked at Jeff. “But now I’ve got a buddy.”
“Yeah, two buddies. Me and Dr. Julia.”
Seth smiled, wishing that were true.
Julia stared through the windshield at the four-story beige brick building. Deep down, she felt the stir, the old surge of excitement and enthusiasm she had always felt on entering a lab. But this return was temporary, and this lab was unlike any she had worked in before—it had windows.
Someone rapped on her car window.
Startled, she darted her gaze, saw Seth, and chided herself for being so jumpy. Her living on an adrenaline rush, being ready at all times for fight or flight, once had been normal, but she couldn’t afford the costs of stressing her nerves anymore.
She grabbed her keys out of the ignition, her purse from the passenger’s seat, and then got out of the blue Camry she had bought before moving to Grace—and had reregistered three times since in three different states, creating a paper trail away from her true location.
A lot of good that did.
“’Morning.” Seth
closed her door behind her. “Did you have any trouble finding the place?”
“None at all.” Julia shifted around him and moved to the sidewalk. “The maps you faxed over were great.”
Seth stepped to her side. “Is the apartment okay?”
It was beautiful. Lots of pastels and cushy furniture. Definitely feminine, welcoming, and it had great locks on the knobs and keyed dead bolts that slid a full inch into the metal door’s frame. “It’s perfect.” The best thing about it was that Seth had leased it and put all the utilities—including the phone—in his name. She really would get a break from Karl and his threats.
At least until some uninformed, well-intentioned soul made the connection between her and Seth and passed it along.
She gave Seth a broad smile. “Thanks for stocking the pantry and fridge.” What a nice surprise to arrive thirsty and tired and find something to drink and no need for immediate shopping. Julia hated immediate shopping. She had just finished doing some the night she had been attacked and nearly had died. Too many bad memories there. “How did you know my favorite brands?”
“We worked together for over two years, Julia. You brought your lunch every day. It didn’t take a genius.”
She supposed not, though for the life of her she couldn’t recall even which kind of soda Seth preferred. God, but she had been unconscious in those days.
No. Not unconscious. Preoccupied with staying healthy and sane, and then with staying alive.
“You look stressed.” Seth steered her toward the lab’s entrance. “Is everything okay?”
She forced herself to smile. “I’m just a little nervous about being back in this environment. A lot changes in three years.”
“You’ll be up to speed in a couple of days.” He passed her a name badge. “Clip this to your collar on the left.”
That, she hadn’t forgotten. She took it and attached the clasp to her jacket lapel. Thin laminated plastic, but it felt strange. “Why is it so heavy?”
“There’s a chip inside. It allows security to track you anywhere in the building.”
They knew who was where at all times. Considering the nature of the work, that was clever and, in a sense, comforting, but it also felt damned invasive. “Why are there windows in the lab?”
“There aren’t. Just in the outer-rim offices. They’re bulletproof,” he assured her. “Not a security threat.”
Seth seemed displeased about the lack of windows away from the outer-rim offices, which made no sense. After all his years of working in secure labs, he should be used to it. Though many did suffer physical and emotional challenges due to the lack of natural sunlight and fresh air. It was a hazard of the job that a couple weeks’ rest and relaxation typically cured. Those not cured transferred out to jobs that required less secure environments.
They stopped at the back of a line of four people waiting to get through security’s entrance checkpoint.
When they stepped up to the desk, a brash young lieutenant greeted them. “’Morning.”
“Lieutenant Dean,” Seth said. “This is Dr. Hy—”
“Warner,” Julia interrupted. “Dr. Julia Warner.” She smiled and offered him her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Lieutenant.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
Seth looked at her strangely, but said nothing about her dropping Karl’s name. “I’ll show her the ropes.”
The lieutenant nodded, Seth swiped his ID card in the system’s slot, and when the light turned green, he crossed the threshold of a metal archway.
Julia followed suit, clipped the badge back to the lapel of her navy suit jacket, and then followed Seth, her heels clicking softly on the gray tile.
The inner building was a maze of long and winding corridors that all looked alike: bare white walls, gray tile floors, and closed doors. “It would take six months to stop getting lost in here.” Julia stepped around two colonels who had paused to talk in the hallway. A map of the place would help tremendously, but Security would veto one being drafted, much less one being distributed for use.
“It’s not bad, really.” Seth chuckled. “Just visualize the layout. The center of the building is the inner lab. The vault surrounds it. There’s only one corridor leading to it, no windows, and one door. Security is far more extensive and sophisticated here than the lab in New Orleans.”
“How extensive and sophisticated?” Already, her every move was being monitored by a chip in her ID badge. And she would have to be blind not to see the cameras at every intersecting corridor and door.
“Very.” Seth led on. “The offices out here are for the general lab. Lots of dual technologies being developed. Secure, but not—”
“I understand.” Dual-technology programs had civilian and military applications. The projects in the outer lab weren’t Black Box projects developed solely for military use. Black Box projects were developed in the inner lab, and unless you headed the program or you were the sole-source contractor’s project representative, you knew only the portion of the project you worked on. You might have a general understanding of the overall mission, but more than likely, you knew only your own specific personal mission. In the general lab, you were more apt to know not only both the civilian and military applications of your entire project, but those of the others being developed around you.
Seth stopped at a junction in the corridor. A studious security guard stood sentry at a small podium-type desk. “’Morning, Dr. Holt.”
“Good morning, Sergeant Grimm.” Seth smiled. “This is Dr. Warner. She’ll be working with me in the vault for a while.”
The sergeant skimmed Seth with a handheld scanner, then moved to scan Julia. “Welcome to the Zone, ma’am.”
Julia smiled at the reminder. People often referred to the vault as the Twilight Zone because, in it, strange and bizarre ideas were considered the norm. “Thank you.”
He finished scanning and then nodded toward the card-system machine attached to the wall near his shoulder.
Seth inserted his ID card, then walked through.
Julia followed.
They moved on, down yet another seemingly endless, winding corridor. “We’ve walked at least a mile.” And she had the screaming arches to prove it. “How much farther?”
“We’ve walked just under half a mile, actually.” They stopped again. “I’ll explain more once we’re inside.”
She nodded, staring at the two glass cylinders behind Seth. Bordered by solid walls, the cylinders ran from ceiling to floor. You either went through them, or turned around.
“They’re not glass,” Seth said. “They’re sound-and bulletproof, and strong enough to sustain the force of a reasonable explosion.” He shrugged. “Perfectly safe.”
Julia gave him a sidelong look. “Define reasonable.”
Seth laughed and motioned for her to follow his lead.
She stepped to the side of the cylinder and inserted her card into the appropriate slot. With a little high-pitched whir, it sucked the card inside. The cylinder’s door opened. When she’d moved inside, the door sealed shut. Locked in, she noted the absence of airflow: a necessary precaution against biological or chemical invasion, if not exactly comfortable. A moment passed, and another, and then the door in front of her glided open. She stepped out and dragged in a deep breath of crisp air.
“Don’t forget your card.” Seth motioned toward the machine.
He looked a little green around the gills. Wondering why, she stepped aside, and then pulled her card from the tray. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” He grabbed his card. “I just hate this damn thing.”
Evidently, being locked inside the cylinder unnerved him. Funny, how differently people react to things. To her, it was a rare place. One where she felt safe.
Seth smiled sheepishly. “Almost there.”
“Good. People have children in less time than it takes to get into this place.”
“It’s not that bad, Julia.”
“No, it’s that good.�
� It was time-consuming and irritating, but the precautions were definitely warranted.
They walked down yet another deserted gray corridor to the next checkpoint. This one was unmanned, though cameras littered the wall, covering every possible angle.
Passing through, they took the first right, and then stopped at a set of double doors. Two machines hung side by side on the wall next to them. Seth stepped up to the first machine and centered his forehead against a plate glass, as if he were peeking inside. Given a green light, he moved to the second machine and placed his palm flat against a pad that resembled a small computer screen.
Julia mimicked him. Iris and palm print scanners. “Biometrics?”
“Enhanced biometrics,” he corrected. “Including facial-structure scans.”
Something in his tone alerted her: “And what else?”
“That’s classified.” The double doors opened. “We’re here.”
Julia looked at the doors, then above them. “After all that, just one camera at the entrance to the vault?”
Seth laughed. “We’ve been in the vault since we went through the transporter—the glass cylinder.”
“Oh.” Julia wanted to cringe but refused to do it. She should have realized that. Transporter was an apt slang name for the cylinder. Working in the vault’s inner lab was like working in another world. “Just how thick are the walls in this place?”
“Well over eighteen feet.”
Not an exact response, which meant he had no intention of stating specifics, but the footage cited was thick enough to sustain a direct hit from any missile known to man, except for the Rogue, without concerns of penetration compromising the vault’s integrity.
The double doors closed behind them. Julia looked around. Offices on the outer perimeter, the inner lab in the center of the complex. A handful of men and women sat at their workstations. Same gray tile floors and white walls as everywhere else, but the lab didn’t feel abandoned. Pulsating energy, it felt alive.
