Ky (In the Company of Snipers Book 13)

by Irish Winters

  “Grab the kid,” Bick ordered Matt as he waved his pistol from Eden to the fake tank. “You first. Cassie, make sure she doesn’t try anything on the way down. Zaroyin, I ought to kill you right now, but I hate leaving loose ends that could lead back to me.”

  “But my son,” Abraham ground out. “He shouldn’t be moved. He’s hurt.”

  “Don’t worry, Pops.” Matt wrapped the fur coat around Isaiah before he jerked him over his shoulder. “Just to prove how nice I can be, I’ll keep your son warm. He’s too valuable to kill anyway.”

  What could Eden do? She had no choice but to drop down the stairs behind Matt, and into the eerie silence ahead of Mrs. Bick. Abraham closed in behind Eden. The portly senator brought up the rear. By the time he reached the bottom step and the secret panel slid into place, he was breathing hard.

  Bright lights flickered on overhead. Cassandra shoved Eden forward through another doorway into another room—Eden’s worst nightmare. Two autopsy tables. Solid concrete floors, walls, and ceiling. Shiny medical instruments in rows on the side counter. She gulped past a dry throat. So this was where her journey would end—murdered in a fireproof vault where no one could hear her scream.

  Cassandra shoved Eden onto one table and strapped her in while Matt dropped Isaiah like a side of beef onto the other. Senator Bick tied Dr. Zaroyin to a metal chair at the foot of his son’s table. All hope was lost.

  “How about you, Pops?” Matt asked Abraham as he fastened a belt around Isaiah’s forehead. “You want to watch while we finish what you started? This was your idea, after all.”

  “The concept of a level-ten psychic controlling intelligent, thinking drones was my idea,” Abraham corrected sadly. “This is nothing but cold-blooded brutality.”

  “You could call it that,” Matt agreed. He tugged Eden’s fur coat under Isaiah’s chin. “Your boy’s been real helpful, though. I don’t mind keeping him warm until it’s his turn. Between him and me, we’ve located all twenty-one of the known level-tens in the world. He might not have wanted to, but with a little persuasion, he got the job done. You should be proud.”

  “You tortured him to get that intel,” Eden hissed. “That’s why you’ve been bleeding him.”

  “Of course. I’m also going to milk a million swimmers out of him every day as long as he can produce. You’re the one we don’t need.”

  “You’re so smart,” Cassandra purred, now standing over Eden with surgical gloves on her grasping fingers and a long hypodermic needle in her right hand. She’d cleaned the blood from her face, but she’d need a good plastic surgeon for that mashed nose. She skimmed her fingernails over Eden’s head. “You do have beautifully long hair. I like it. Such a pity none of your babies will get to meet their pretty, brave, heroic mother. Life is like that for many of the world’s children, isn’t it? At least you’ll die knowing I’ll be a good mother to the ones I let live.”

  “You’re a fucking bitch,” Isaiah murmured hoarsely from where he lay in restraints.

  Cassandra’s eyes narrowed. Her painted on brows slanted in a severe V. She pursed her ruby red lips. “Wait here,” she whispered, her eyes bright. “I need to cut that boy’s tongue out. I’ll be right back.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “Where is she?” Ky hissed.

  They’d entered what appeared to be a laboratory from the loading bay through a utility door behind the tanks. Eden’s scream had to have come from this room, but the place was empty. Except for the angry FBI rhetoric outside, it was damned quiet, too.

  “Where is she, damn it?” he asked again, his weapon still poised to murder that rat bastard Zaroyin. The sterile-looking room wasn’t large. How could she have gotten out of it so quickly?

  Mark peered out the door opposite the nitro tanks, his short-stock rifle aimed to the ceiling. “The hall’s clear, but someone was just here.” He nodded to the blood splatter on the floor.

  Ky reverted to the alpha hunter he was. Fresh blood on the floor. Blood on the gurney. All six senses kicked into high gear. His nose twitched. Eden was still close. The smell of menthol and eucalyptus was strong.

  Hitching his weapon over his shoulder, he resorted to tactile, hands-on intel. Skimming over the walls, he searched for a pressure-sensitive panel or a pressure plate. A wall that moved. Anything. That deviant Nizari had delighted in using secret hiding places for his victims. Maybe Zaroyin did, too.

  Mark opened and closed the doors on the metal cabinets opposite the bloody gurney. Nothing but medical supplies. Test tubes and more supplies lined the refrigerator shelves. Hypos. Vials of drugs. But nothing that indicated where Eden could’ve gone.

  Ky stared at the nitrogen tank in the corner. Cylindrical, yes. Ceiling-high, bright and shiny, yes. But a few inches wider than the others. Why? The FBI would barge in soon and he’d be forced to leave. But first...

  He placed both palms to the cylinder, feeling for a seam in the metal. A crack. Anything.

  Mark joined him. “This tank’s warmer than the others. You find the spring mechanism yet?”

  “Not yet,” Ky growled. But wait. He pounded his fist along the right side of the tank. The hidden panel slipped noiselessly to the left. “Found it,” he whispered as he slung his short-stock back into his hands. Down he went with Mark into a well-lighted but empty room. Empty but for that hint of Vicks.

  Mark clapped Ky lightly on the right shoulder, signaling him to take the lead and enter the opposing door. Ky never hesitated. Bracing for hell, he kicked the door open and pure animal rage took over. Zaroyin had strapped Eden to a stainless-steel table with belts on her ankles, arms, and head.

  Only he was strapped to a chair at the end of one of the tables. It didn’t make sense, but Ky didn’t think twice. The fat bastard with the gun fell first, a double tap to his skull. No one raised a gun to Ky and lived to talk about it, not even an almighty senator. Mark shot the only other armed man dumb enough to offer resistance, and the fight was over as quickly as it had begun.

  All except for Cassandra Bick. The witch had a hypo in the guy’s neck on the other stainless-steel table. Had to be Isaiah Zaroyin, if the doctor’s scream of alarm meant anything. “Stop! Don’t kill him! He’s all I’ve got.”

  “Put it down,” Ky ordered, his rifle trained on Mrs. Bick’s chest and ready to do the deed.

  The woman trembled, her wide eyes popping from her dead husband to Eden and back to Ky. “You killed him,” she whined. “He’s all I had!”

  “But I don’t have to kill you.” Ky mustered as much restraint as he could. If not for that needle pressed to Isaiah’s neck, he’d take the shot and waste this psycho.

  Mark positioned himself at Eden’s side, loosening her restraints. That helped Ky settle his nerves.

  “You? You’re the man she loves?” Mrs. Bick sneered. “You’re Ky Winchester?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I sure as hell am.” Now how the hell did she know that?

  “Isaiah told me everything,” she hissed, as if in answer to Ky’s unvoiced question. “We gave him no choice. His father, either. They had to cooperate if they wanted to see each other again, but now... you’ve spoiled everything! I’ll never have my precious babies!”

  Ky lifted his rifle. Keep talking, bitch. You don’t deserve children.

  “Dr. Zaroyin saved my life, Ky. He couldn’t go through with what the Bicks had planned,” Eden called to Ky. “He saved me from Bick’s assassin, from McCluskey. He killed for me, Ky.”

  That should’ve mattered, and it did, but right then and there, Ky only had eyes for the crazy woman in a blood-spattered lab coat. Mrs. Cassandra Bick. The lady with a death wish.

  “Put it down,” he commanded her. “There’s no way you come out of this alive if you kill Zaroyin’s son.”

  She snorted, her eyes dilated and her brows raised. “You think I want to live without my husband? Without Doug? Are you stupid enough to—”

  A sizzling crackle filled the room. Pop. Pop. Snap!

  Cassand
ra lifted to the tips of her toes. Her neck stretched. Her lips twisted frightfully wide open. The hypo dropped from her outstretched fingers to the floor. She screeched in what sounded like Morse code. She gasped. Growled. Drooled.

  Ky pushed her away from Isaiah, intent on keeping him safe. “I’ve got you, buddy. You’re going home now.”

  He whispered something back, but Ky couldn’t catch what he said with all the grunting Mrs. Bick was doing. Finally, she dropped stiff as a board to the floor and just as silent.

  “Say again?” Ky asked.

  The words eked out of Isaiah. “Ta... ser.”

  A swarm of federal agents stormed the underground cryo-lab and took over the scene. Eden answered a few questions. Ky a few more. He gave up his weapons and every last piece of his tactical gear. The big guy with him did the same, but after a glowing commendation from Eden, both Ky and Mark Houston were released. Funny thing, though. Not once did Ky take those amber eyes off of her until he was told to vacate the premises. It seemed the FBI needed to secure it now that Ky and Mark had rendered it safe. The TEAM might mess up the evidence. Go figure.

  Eden watched him watching her while he walked away with Mark. He wouldn’t go far. Dr. Zaroyin was cuffed and directed into an FBI van. Cassandra Bick had already been transported to the nearest emergency room. Two medics attended to and rendered Isaiah emergency medical aid while the FBI medical examiner transferred Senator Bick and Hartigen into body bags.

  I’d like to see you come back to life this time, Matt, you snake.

  The universe seemed balanced again.

  Until the FBI Director Zachary Strong showed up. Eden could feel him coming. The silver-haired man was a mighty force to be dealt with. A tidal wave of power pushed time and space out of his way as he strode into the underground den, his bright eyes taking in everything. “Agent Stark,” he said crisply. “Status report.”

  “I’m still alive, sir,” she answered meekly. That seemed important. She figured he already knew everything else.

  “Out!” he barked to the room. The few FBI agents lingering left with the medics, Isaiah, and the ME.

  “Director,” Eden said calmly. She stood at the end of the autopsy table where she would’ve met her death.

  “Agent Stark,” he replied from his position at the door, his spine ramrod straight and his shoulders wide. “You are never, I mean never, to do that again, do you hear me, young lady?”

  Young lady? So not what she’d expected. “W-what?”

  “Why the hell didn’t you tell me you suspected Zaroyin? Why did you run? I could’ve protected you, damn it. I could’ve prevented all this!”

  “But I... I didn’t know who to trust, and I couldn’t risk—”

  In two quick steps he was in her face. “Why the hell do you think you work for the FBI? Why do you think they’ve guarded you with their lives?”

  “They, umm, didn’t do a very good job this time,” she reminded him.

  “I know, God, I know, but damn it, Stark. You’re worth a hundred agents. Don’t run again.”

  “Yes, sir.” Snap. He sounded like he thought he was her father.

  “I mean it. I’ll give you all my numbers. You will contact me at the first hint of trouble from now on, understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” she repeated, not sure why he didn’t just put an official reprimand in her file and call it good. Eden reached one hand to his wrist and clamped on tight. It might work this time.

  The vision came easily. Drake and Casey Franklin. A tow-headed girl swinging between their clasped hands, calling out, “Higher, Daddy! Higher, Mama!” Her parents in love, and lost little Eden the happiest baby girl ever.

  She dropped Director Strong’s wrist. “Who are you? Did you know my dad? My mom?”

  He huffed through his nose, but told her, “I’m your uncle, Eden. Your father’s brother.”

  “But why? How? His name’s Franklin, isn’t it?”

  “Only in the witness protection program. Your mother witnessed a mob hit the year after you were born. Psychically. Not really, but when every detail panned out, and the press got hold of it, the mob went after her, and I got involved. I thought I had you safe and sound until your parents split.”

  “But she died,” Eden whimpered. “Why didn’t you, umm, come get me?”

  Director Strong rubbed a hand across his forehead. “Because she left the program after Drake left her, and we couldn’t track you. Honest, I had no idea Casey died until you tested at the top SAT scores in your high school. The Bureau’s always looking for the best and the brightest, so I sent Matt to recruit you. Even then, I didn’t realize you were Drake’s daughter until I signed off on your top-secret clearance.”

  “Where is he? My dad?”

  “He’s working for General Dynamics in Crystal City. You’d be proud of him. He stopped drinking and cleaned up his act. He’d love to meet you.”

  “He drank?” Eden had no recollection of her father drinking, just that he’d loved her, but not enough to stay.

  “He drank himself nearly to death after he left Idaho, but damn it, Eden. Your mother drove him away the same way she drove everyone else. She had this amazing gift, but she thought it made her better than everyone else. She thought it made her special, but not once did she develop it like you have.”

  “She never told me any of this.”

  “Why would she? She spent half her life trying to get lost.”

  “But she taught me everything I know.” Eden needed to defend Casey. She’d protected her up until the accident, and she’d been the best mother ever. At least she hadn’t left like Drake had.

  “Why do you think the Bureau offered you the job they did when they did?” Director Strong asked, a definite tenderness to his tone. “It was the only way I could keep you close to me once I found you. I couldn’t leave you in Idaho, could I? God, you would’ve married a potato farmer and had a dozen kids by now.”

  She nearly giggled. “Does anyone else know we’re related?”

  He shook his head. “Not until you want them to. Would you rather keep this to yourself for now?”

  “No, I, umm...” God no. This was her boss—not just her boss but the director of the entire Federal Bureau of Investigation. But he was also her only living relative beside her father. Her uncle. Wow. I have an uncle. And a dad. “I’d like to meet him again.”

  Director Strong’s eyes teared up. “Trust me, he’d really like that.”

  “Me, too,” Eden said quietly. Director Strong did look like her father now that she had time to notice. He had the same brows. The same earlobes. “Are there more like me?” Maybe her whole family was psychic, if she and her mom were. Maybe it was a genetic thing like Zaroyin and Bick thought it was. Okay, it didn’t make sense, not if she got her second sight from her mother, but at that moment, anything seemed possible.

  Director Strong shook his head slowly. “I’m afraid not. Your mother had no living relatives and the rest of us Strongs are just regular Joes.”

  They stood there facing each other for a long minute.

  “Snap. I don’t know what else to say,” he murmured, raking one hand through those silver spikes, kind of exasperated. “I know this is a lot to take in, but let’s get out of here. You’ve got a young man waiting for you, and I’ve got work to do. Let me talk to Drake, and we’ll go from there.”

  “You said snap.”

  He paused, his hand on the door and a crooked smile on his face. “Your grandmother used to say it all the time, young lady.”

  “I have a grandmother?”

  He nodded. “Yes. You’ve got cousins, other uncles and aunts, too.”

  That did it. Eden rushed her Uncle Zachary, and he caught her. A quiet groan lifted up from his throat as he tucked her under his chin. He sniffed and growled, “Vicks? Drake had you using it, too? That stuff doesn’t work.”

  Eden squeezed her uncle as tight as she could, her eyes filled with tears. She could barely speak, her heart was so full.
“It worked for me.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “It took you long enough,” Ky kidded from the warehouse door where he and Mark stood waiting.

  Tucked under FBI Director Strong’s arm like she was, Eden had a lively spring to her step and a glow on her face. She looked genuinely happy. “Ky Winchester, I’d like to introduce you to my uncle, Zachary,” she said with a big smile. “Uncle Zachary, this is—”

  “Yeah, I know who these guys are.” Director Strong grabbed Ky’s outstretched hand. “Hell, I’ve got their boss on speed dial. Ky. Mark. Thanks for taking care of my girl.”

  “Your girl?” Ky asked.

  Mark slapped his back while he reached for the FBI director’s hand. “Uncle, huh?”

  The guy nodded. “It’s a long story, one I’m sure Eden will be eager to share before the day is done. Looks like we’ve got this mess wrapped up. Feel free to take off. You too, Eden. I trust these guys. You couldn’t be in safer hands.”

  Smart girl. She swapped Director Strong’s arms for Ky’s. He couldn’t wait to get her alone, but back in his arms? Damned near heaven. He kissed the top of her head.

  “Feel free to reach out to us anytime, Director,” Mark quipped. “You know The TEAM. We’re always here to help the good guys.”

  Director Strong waved them off. “Don’t I know it. Tell Alex hey next time you see him. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Will do. I’m on my way to brief him right now.”

  Ky and Eden walked Mark back to his TEAM SUV where Rory and Taylor stood waiting.

  “I’ll tell Alex you’ll be in the office tomorrow,” Mark said. “Where can he reach you?”

  “We’ll be at Ky’s place,” Eden replied quickly, then turned to him. “Won’t we?”

  He could’ve kissed her right then and there. “We will. You wouldn’t mind giving Rory and Taylor a lift back to the office, would you, Mark? I need the rental.”