by Loye, Trish
He put his weapon away and clenched his jaw. The man brought the syringe to his neck. A prick of pain. Blackness shot through with red tunneled his vision. His limbs went heavy and his eyelids weighed down. He tried to step toward Charlie. To be near her.
He stumbled and went to his knees. A hand on the cold grass.
Darkness swallowed him.
17
Her head pounded and she closed her eyes against the bright light. Her stomach roiled and threatened to revolt. What the hell happened? Where was she?
Charlie lay on a lumpy surface that scratched her face. Something warmed her back and she wanted to snuggle back against it. She squinted. A man’s arm was on her waist.
Adrenaline surged. She jerked upright, rolling away and falling off a cot onto a cold cement floor. Nausea and pain overcame her. She stopped on her hands and knees, her chest heaving as she fought to not throw up.
“Easy, Sherlock.” Jack’s gruff voice. He laid a hand on her shoulder.
Jack.
Relief made her slump and place her forehead against the cool cement floor. “Holy crap, I have the mother of all hangovers.”
“It was the drugs they gave us.”
She sat, pulled her knees to her chest, and curled her arms around them. Opening her eyes took a huge effort, but she managed a squint. He crouched beside her for a moment more, assessing her before he moved back to the cot.
He sat, stretching his long legs in front of him. Casual and confident. Not at all as though he’d been drugged by an insane kidnapper. “How come you look like they didn’t drug you?”
“I’m a lot bigger than you. You’ve been out for a while. I was afraid they’d given you too much.”
He’d been worried. She could tell by the tightness around his eyes.
A thought struck her and she sucked in an unsteady breath. “My aunt. Do you think she’s…” She couldn’t say it. She couldn’t even think it.
Jack shook his head. “She was alive when we left. She’ll be found at first light. I’m sure she’s in a hospital recovering right now.”
Charlie wasn’t so sure. Panic still gnawed at her insides and her mind kept replaying the image of her aunt’s still form.
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. There was nothing she could do at the moment. For now, she had to trust that Jack was right.
“Where are we?” she asked, looking around.
The room looked like a serial killer’s haven. Cement floors, cement walls, and a ceiling with a single bare bulb for a light. A cot with a gray wool blanket where Jack sat. The only door was a steel fire door with no interior latch or handle. There was a drain in the center of the room. Brown stained the cement around it.
That wasn’t ominous or anything.
“The bad guy’s lair?” Jack answered.
That brought a quick smile to her face. “I assume you’ve tried the door.”
“Locked,” he said. “We’re stuck until they come for us.”
She swore, then looked at Jack. “I’m sorry for getting you into this.”
“I’m a big boy,” he said. “I make my own decisions.”
She crawled back to the cot and sat beside him. Her stomach rolled and shivers racked her, but the pounding in her head had lessened. “I don’t think my body likes whatever they gave us.”
He lifted his arm, an invitation to come closer. “You’re freezing.”
She was, but still she hesitated. She was coming to depend too much on Jack. Then she mentally shook her head. He only offered to share his warmth. She shouldn’t overanalyze it.
Another shiver. Her body won the battle with her mind and she scooted close and leaned against him. His warmth soaked into her and she sighed. Her hands went to his hard chest, and the heat of him even through his shirt made her eyelids drop in bliss.
But this was Jack. She pulled back her hands as if they’d been burned. He was not her personal duvet.
He regretted kissing her. She had to remember to keep it professional. He was letting her get close so she could share body heat. That was all.
His arm closed around her shoulders and snugged her closer; she barely refrained from burrowing her face in his neck. The shivers gradually left her and her body sank into a stupor.
“Sleep,” he said. “I’ll keep watch.”
She let go.
The next time she woke, her head rested on Jack’s lap, his hand on her shoulder. The light no longer pierced her eye like a knife and her stomach had settled. She sat up and leaned back against the wall, wishing she had a glass of water.
“How long have we been here?” she asked.
Jack shrugged. “I think it’s about mid-day.”
She nodded. “What do you think will happen now?” She was proud of how she’d kept her voice steady.
Jack didn’t answer at first. “They need you for something,” he said carefully. “As soon as they get it we’re both dead.”
She knew what he was telling her. That if she gave in, Spider would kill them.
“Don’t worry about me,” he said. “Just focus on getting yourself out. If you see an opportunity, take it.”
“I won’t leave you.”
“This isn’t a game. They will kill us. If you can get out, then do it.” He paused for a moment. “If I get a chance to escape then I’m going to take it, whether you’re with me or not.”
His words slashed across her and she sucked in a breath. He held himself still, not looking at her. His words corroborated everything Dante had said about him: that he was only out for himself; that he’d gotten his men killed and then tried to blame it on someone else. His words were the words of a selfish coward.
She frowned. But that wasn’t who he was. He’d come with her to get her aunt. He’d told her to run more than once. He’d protected her. She studied his profile. “I know what you’re doing,” she said finally.
He raised an eyebrow. “Really?” His voice was cold. “And what’s that?”
“You’re trying to make me feel all right about leaving you here. You don’t actually think you’ll get a chance to escape. And even if you did, you wouldn’t leave me behind.”
He made a sound of protest, but she kept talking. “It won’t work. I won’t leave without you. We got into this together and we’ll get out together.”
“Fuck, you’re stubborn.” He ran a hand through his hair.
She smiled. “Why do you let everyone think that you’re…” She didn’t want to say it. He didn’t deserve the words from her.
“A selfish coward?” he supplied for her, his lips twisted in self-derision.
“You’re not,” she said softly.
“You don’t know that,” he said.
“I do. Everything you’ve done tells me you’re a brave, honorable man. I don’t understand why the SAS doesn’t know that.”
“They needed to blame someone.”
“But surely your superiors—”
“It doesn’t matter now, Sherlock.”
“It does to me. And I think it does to you, too.”
“Your teammates would tell you you’re naive.”
She shrugged. “They’ve already told me that.”
“But you’re not naive,” he said, defending her. “Just a little inexperienced. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad partner.”
She couldn’t stop her grin. “Aha. You like me,” she said in a singsong voice.
He choked. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Sherlock.”
She laughed, and opened her mouth to respond when the lock clicked and the door opened.
Logan walked into the room. He wore a dress shirt and pants. No tie. His hair swept back perfectly with not a strand out of place.
“Logan!” She jumped up and only wobbled a little, muscles protesting the abuse of the past few days. Jack stood and moved up beside her. “What are you…?” She finally registered his expression. Not one of shock or horror at finding them in a cell, or even of relief of finding them alive
.
No, his expression was smug.
She frowned. “Logan?”
“Hello, Charlotte. I’m glad you decided to work for me. I really hated the idea of killing your aunt.” Then he laughed. “Okay, not really. I don’t actually care if you or your aunt lives or dies.”
Jack stiffened. “You!” He stepped forward. “I recognize your voice now, you bastard. You’re the officer on the radio. The one who sent my team into that trap. I’ve been hunting you for two years.”
A man stepped from around Logan and raised his automatic rifle, aiming it solidly at Jack. Jack stopped moving forward, but his hands clenched and unclenched as if he were breaking bones.
Logan cocked his head as he studied Jack. “Yes, you’ve been a bit of a pain in my side. You were always two or three steps behind, but I figured it was time we finally met, Trooper Sinclair.” He smiled. “By the way, do you know how hard I laughed when I heard you’d been dishonorably discharged? And all because I’d bribed a sergeant to look the other way when I took over the radio that night.” He looked Jack up and down. “And now you work as what? A bodyguard? Your mother must be so proud.”
“Why?” Jack’s voice held agony wrapped in bitter rage. “Why kill them?”
Logan sighed. “You got too close. I couldn’t have anyone finding out I’d sold weapons to the enemy, now could I?”
“Fucking bastard,” Jack said.
“Yes, yes. And you’ll kill me if it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.” He waved a hand. “A bit of overkill, isn’t it? I mean, it’s been two years.”
Charlie still couldn’t wrap her head around what was happening. Logan had been the one to set up Jack? Anger sparked. He’d kidnapped her aunt. “You’re Spider?”
“I’m really not fond of that name. Too…melodramatic.”
“But why do you want the EMP?”
He looked disappointed. “Apparently you’re not as smart as people say.” He shook his head. “Money, Charlotte. I’m going to sell the EMP technology to the highest bidder. Along with the other weapons I’ve gathered in the last two years…well, they’re going to give me a nice bonus this year. My government pension doesn’t pay very well, you know.”
“Fucking bastard.”
“Yes. I’ve heard. Now I have no more time to chat. Come with me.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then I kill your friend here.”
She forced herself to shrug. “Like you said, he’s a bodyguard. One life isn’t worth the thousands that bomb will kill.”
Logan pulled out a gun and pointed it at Jack’s head. “I saw you kiss him after the dance. Don’t try to bluff me, Charlotte. I will kill him. And then I’ll kill your friend Cat before I hunt down your aunt again.”
She clenched her teeth. “Fine. I’ll come with you. Don’t hurt anyone.”
“Oh, I can’t promise that,” Logan said with a smile. He stepped back into the doorway. Four more men waited in the hall beyond wearing dark jeans, black shirts, and boots. They all held automatic rifles.
“Follow me, Charlotte,” Logan said. “My men will take care of Trooper, excuse me, I mean Mr. Sinclair.”
Jack sprang and took Logan to the floor. He got in one good punch, splitting Logan’s lip before the men with guns dragged him off. Two guards kept hold of Jack while the other two struck him again and again in the stomach.
“Stop, please!” Charlie said.
Logan’s eyes radiated rage. He wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. “Stop,” he said.
Jack staggered when released, clutching his stomach, but he didn’t fall. He raised his head and stared hard at Logan. “I’m going to kill you.” It was a quiet and cold promise.
“Every time you strike back,” Logan said, “Charlotte will pay the price.”
Logan snapped a backhand out, catching her jaw. It caught her off guard and she spun as pain flared in her face. She hit the cement wall and her breath whooshed out of her.
“Charlie!” Jack said.
She whirled back to face Spider, her hands up in a defensive position. He wouldn’t catch her off guard again. “I’m okay,” she told Jack, though her jaw throbbed with pain.
“But she won’t be if you keep fighting,” Logan said. “Follow me, Charlotte. I have no more time to waste.”
Charlie had no choice. She moved to follow Logan when Jack snagged her hand.
“Remember what I said,” he said, his voice low and intense.
She shook her head. He was asking her to leave him behind if she had the chance. “I won’t.”
“Stubborn.” He squeezed her hand. “Do what you have to, Sherlock.”
He was telling her to survive. She smiled, though it hurt like a bitch. “I’ll be back.” When she turned to follow Logan, her insides froze. He had such a look of hatred on his face that it made her step falter.
“You hope,” he said calmly.
She followed him out of the room. They left the four guards inside. A thud and a grunt followed. Logan didn’t pause. She hesitated. What was happening?
“If you stop, his beating will be worse,” he said.
She didn’t say anything and started walking, a single guard behind her. She bit her lip, hoping they wouldn’t hurt Jack too badly. She focused on the back of Logan’s head, wanting to hurt him. Her fingers curved into claws. She could wrap her hands around his head and press her thumbs into his eyes. She might not be strong, but she could fight. But she’d have to take care of the guard first. Maybe he’d underestimate her and she could get the weapon away from him.
They turned a corner and her plans fizzled. Two more men waited outside the door of a room. Both wore black shirts and jeans and had rifles slung over their shoulders.
“Was there a sale on bad-guy uniforms at the mall?” she asked. “It’s nice how all your men match.”
“I didn’t realize how much I detested you until this moment,” Logan said. “I almost hope you fail so I can kill you.” He nodded at the guards and one of them opened the door.
A small, sterile lab awaited them. White cupboards and stainless steel countertops surrounded a long worktable. On it sat Peter’s laptop.
Logan turned to her. “This is an electromagnetically secure room. You won’t have any access to the outside world. Build me the EMP weapon. You have two days.”
“And then you’re going to sell it?”
“No. I’m going to send London back to the Dark Ages with it. Literally.” He smiled, his eyes lit with malice. “And the next day, after my demonstration has been felt, I’ll sell the plans to build more bombs.”
She sucked in a breath. London would be destroyed.
Thousands of people would die within the first seconds from plane and car crashes, electrical failures at the hospitals. Then thousands more would die over the coming days and weeks with little access to fresh water and food as they were exposed to dehydration, starvation, and exposure. Chaos would reign while the rest of the country struggled to help those in the dead zone.
She couldn’t imagine the effects when combined with a single nuke. The United States could be wiped off the map.
She couldn’t let him sell this technology.
“Why me?” she asked suddenly. “It’s not my technology. Why put me through this? Why not take Dr. Anderson?”
“Two reasons. One, you demonstrated an understanding of EMPs. And two, more importantly, you’re a nobody from a nothing company in Canada. No one will miss you until it’s too late, while Peter works for the military.”
Her mouth dropped open at his reasoning. If she hadn’t told him about understanding the EMP tech when she’d first met him, she wouldn’t be in this situation. “Bastard. You’re wrong, you know.”
He laughed. “No, I’m not. No one besides your aunt cares about you.”
She flinched at his words. The fact that they were true was what made them hit so hard. She lifted her chin. “The people I work with will look for me.”
“My man at the hotel reported that your assistant has already checked out. I guess you pissed her off enough that she’s decided to go home without you. You’re on your own, Charlotte. Don’t fuck with me, and I might let you live.” He strode to the door. “You’ll be fed at the end of the day. If I don’t think you’re progressing fast enough, I’ll take my anger out on Sinclair. I want this project completed in two days.” He left. The door locked behind him.
She slumped onto a stool at the worktable and put her head in her hands.
What the hell was she going to do? She couldn’t build a bomb for this lunatic. He planned to use it. Thousands would die.
And on top of that, she had to deal with this on her own. She had Jack, but at the moment they were both at Logan’s mercy. Had Cat really left? Had she really believed that Charlie would care so little about EDGE and the op that she would let herself be seduced away? Did she or Dante not know her at all? In her heart, Charlie had been hoping that Cat suspected what was going on. That she and Dante actually had her back.
Her eyes closed.
She was alone. She dropped her head into her hands.
A city of innocent people depended on her. Whether or not her team believed in her, she was still part of EDGE and she needed to act like it. She opened her eyes and lifted her chin.
At the moment, Jack’s life depended on her at least pretending to create the device. She would have to figure out a way to stop Logan from setting off the bomb. And she had two days to come up with a plan.
She pulled Peter’s laptop to her.
18
The cell door opened and Jack stood, tensed and ready for those bastard guards to come back. His ribs blazed with pain and he suspected at least one was cracked from their earlier visit. They’d only beat on him for a bit, just enough to make him wince when he moved.
