by Robyn Nyx
Landry furrowed her brow. “You can’t be doing this for someone else, Jackson.”
She put out her hand. “No, no, I’m not. Believe me.”
“You need to keep this to yourself until we jump, though.” Landry still didn’t want to involve Mason until the last possible minute. It wasn’t like she was going to sabotage it, but it was less complicated this way.
Jackson looked puzzled but shrugged. “Whatever you need…Chief.” She smiled widely when she used the title Mason had employed. “That is what I call you now, isn’t it?”
It didn’t have to be, but Landry had to admit she liked it. “Yeah, it is.” Content that little problem was dealt with for the moment, Landry asked, “Is there anything you want to ask before you go?” Jackson’s lack of connection to her current life had surprised Landry, but she expected her to have a host of questions about her new life.
Jackson grinned. “About a thousand. How much time have you got?”
“Until Mason gets back with pizza. No one gets between me and food.” Except Jade, and I can’t wait to get home to devour her.
Chapter Twenty-four
After everyone’s appetite had been sated with copious amounts of pizza, Donovan had taken off to retrieve the time stick, or PRU as she called it. She took Muniz with her, and Brooke figured he was too important for Donovan to leave him just in case anything else happened. As soon as they left, Brooke began to worry about the possibility of Frankie and her gang coming back once Miller and Walker reported on what had gone down. She voiced her concern to Makenzie, who suggested they relocate into the recovery room with Delaney. While she settled down, Makenzie disappeared to set some perimeter monitors.
“You think you’ve got what it takes to be one of us?”
Delaney’s question startled Brooke. No one was supposed to know. Unless this is a final test. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve got designs on joining Pulsus, haven’t you? You think you’re good enough?”
“I guess we’ll never know.” Play it safe. “How are you feeling?”
Delaney laughed and held her chest. “I’ve been better. But my head’s a lot clearer…thanks for rescuing Landry.”
Brooke smiled, relieved Delaney had dropped that line of questioning. “I don’t think she’d like it termed that way.”
“Exactly right. It didn’t take you long to get to know her. Must be that behavioral science army training, huh?”
Brooke ran her hand through her hair, feeling strangely guilty. “I feel like I want to apologize about that, but then again…”
Delaney shook her head. “No apology necessary. If it hadn’t been for you being who you are, I don’t know what I’d be doing now…”
Delaney looked wistful, and Brooke wondered exactly how much guilt she’d be carrying around—at least until they wiped her mind. She’d asked Donovan about that and had been assured it was safe and necessary given the things they had to do on some missions. Delaney’s actions were testament to the effect their work had on them. Brooke hoped she’d be strong enough for…all of it.
“I’m sorry about Simson.” Brooke didn’t care for the woman, but she’d had no designs to kill her. It was clear Delaney and Simson didn’t have the same friendship Delaney shared with Landry, but Brooke was sure she’d be sorry she was dead.
“That was you? I was a little out of it when the second shot went off.”
Brooke nodded. “Kind of. We both had our fingers on the trigger.”
“It was a little reckless, with Landry underneath you both. You could’ve ended up killing yourself or her.”
Brooke hadn’t thought of it that way. She’d tried not to think of it at all. Donovan had talked about the psych team whose job it was to look after the extractors and operatives. She said it’d be the first place they dropped in on once they jumped. Brooke hadn’t said a word about how killing Simson had affected her, but Donovan seemed to simply know. She wondered if Donovan knew instinctively that Brooke had never killed anyone before. Probably.
“It all happened pretty fast.” I’m not even sure it was a conscious decision to pull the trigger.
“You have to make those kinds of split-second decisions all the time, Jackson. Better get used to it.”
Brooke heard Makenzie’s footsteps coming toward them and hoped Delaney would say no more about her going with them.
“We’re all clear. There’s probably no need for any of it, but it’s good to take the precautions.”
Brooke was again struck by Makenzie’s accent. “Do you mind if I ask you where you’re from? I’m usually good with accents, but I can’t pin yours down. Or is it a thing you’ve cultivated for the missions?”
Makenzie laughed and took a seat before answering. “Which question would you like me to answer first?”
Brooke felt the soft prickle of heat creep up from the base of her spine to her hairline. “Umm, sorry. Do you mind—”
“Relax. I’m originally from England, but I’ve been native to the States since I was fifteen. So my accent is natural. Naturally hybrid.”
And naturally sexy. “What brought you to America?”
“Pulsus. The woman in charge headhunted my father and made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”
Brooke didn’t know why, but her first thoughts ran to Makenzie’s mom. “And your mom was okay with relocating you?” She regretted the words as soon as she witnessed Makenzie’s reaction to them. Her jaw clenched and she looked away, but not before Brooke had seen the veil of pain cloak over them.
“That’s all very Disney.”
Delaney’s interjection was unwelcome. Brooke didn’t get it, and from the look on Makenzie’s face, neither did she. “What?”
“One parent dead. Now she’s a hero. It’s Disney’s playbook.”
Makenzie laughed, and Brooke could see that whatever memory she’d accidentally stabbed at, Makenzie had pushed it away as swiftly as Brooke had said it.
“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a Disney fan.”
Delaney shrugged. “Appearances can be deceptive. I’ve seen all two hundred and ninety of them. Every single release since 1937 and little Snow White.”
Brooke narrowed her eyes and tried to figure out if Delaney was being serious or not. She was too hard to read, and her poker face was laudable. “You’re messing with us.” Delaney didn’t respond. Brooke turned her attention back to Makenzie. “Did you leave a lot behind in the UK?” There were some parallels with their stories, and Brooke wondered if Makenzie regretted being dragged to a new country or whether she was simply prepared for the challenge.
“I left everything behind…but most of it was bad memories anyway. I’d always loved America. I’d grown up with their movies. I was gutted when Elodie Fontaine died in the early sixties. I adored her movies, and she really blazed a trail for lesbians in Hollywood. She almost made me want to be an actress. Instead I got pulled into a family business of sorts.”
“Jesus, why don’t you just go in the other room and fuck already?”
“Delaney!” Mason looked affronted but also like she’d been caught out.
Delaney tried to push up on her elbows. “There are other people in the room who wouldn’t mind being part of the conversation, Mason.”
Mackenzie kicked the legs of Delaney’s gurney. “Yeah, and I’ve still got some sedatives I could use on those other people.”
“Steady, Mason. Have some respect for your superiors. I’m not ex-Pulsus yet.”
Makenzie saluted and averted her eyes while still smiling. Delaney’s tone was lighthearted, but Brooke saw the desolation in her expression. The paradox between the two of them couldn’t be greater. Brooke was barely able to contain her excitement in starting her journey with Pulsus, whereas Delaney knew hers was coming to an end. It was self-inflicted, from what Brooke could see, but the way Donovan and Makenzie were around Delaney surely meant that there was more to this story than she understood.
“What do you want to talk abo
ut, Delaney?” Makenzie moved beside the gurney and checked her bandages. “Time to change this.”
Delaney sat up gingerly and Makenzie began to unwrap the dressing. Brooke looked away when Delaney’s breasts were exposed.
Delaney laughed. “What’s the matter? You shy or are you a straight girl disguised as a cute little butch?”
Brooke did a double-take and looked at herself. “You think I’m butch?” And cute?
“Ah, you’re one of those. Do you prefer the term androgynous? Or gender fluid?”
Brooke shrugged. “I don’t care what people call me. I like to consider myself boxless when it comes to labels.”
Delaney nodded. “Stupid people need labels. It gives their life order, or they’d run around totally confused and not know what to do with themselves.”
Makenzie laughed. “God, we’re going to miss your politically incorrect humor around the place.”
Her words deadened the genial atmosphere.
“Uh, sorry. That was tactless.”
Brooke felt for Makenzie. Delaney was easy to be around. Hell, she knew she’d miss her and she’d only known her a couple of days.
Delaney put her hand on Makenzie’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it.”
Brooke watched as Makenzie discarded the bloody bandages, cleaned Delaney’s wound, and refreshed the gauze and binding. She worked efficiently and quickly, but her touch was tender and gentle.
“Were you a doctor or a nurse?” Brooke couldn’t help but continue to ask Makenzie questions. She told herself she wanted to know everything about all the people who were going to be her colleagues, but there was a know-it-all glitch in her head that called her out for a different motive.
“Neither. I was halfway through med school at Pulsus when Jenkin offered me the opportunity to train as an operative.”
Brooke wondered why Jenkin would want to derail Makenzie’s medical career, but then maybe the right people for operatives and extractors were hard to come by. Which means Donovan sees something special in me. Brooke chastised herself and pushed the thought to the back of her mind. It was egotistical, and that was a part of her personality she tried to keep under control.
The small unit Makenzie had been carrying bleeped and interrupted Brooke’s internal berating.
“Let’s hope that’s the chief.” She picked up her gun and motioned for Brooke to follow her. “Come on then, slick.”
Brooke stood immediately and did as instructed. There was something about the way Makenzie spoke to her that had her bouncing around like a puppy. God, I’m such a sucker for a pretty girl. The fact that she could probably kick Brooke’s ass seemed to make her even more appealing.
Chapter Twenty-five
Delaney settled back against the gurney and tried to relax. They’d left her without a weapon, so she hoped it was Landry who’d tripped the sensor. Then again, maybe if it was Frankie Calvin and her goons, they could finish her off and save Pulsus the expensive trouble of relocating her. At least she’d die with her memories intact.
She closed her eyes and rested her head against the cold gurney thinly covered with a basic hospital issue cover. Mason was right. Delaney had set this room up to look after Landry in between bouts of interrogation. She couldn’t decide if it was ironic or karma that it was her who’d ended up on the table instead of Landry. Fuck it. How did it turn out like this? It had been so good to talk to Landry again, just like old times. And their emotional exchange had served to get things straight in Delaney’s head. A year ago, she could never have imagined she and Landry could have a conversation so deep and honest, but she wasn’t kidding herself. If she wasn’t having a mind wipe, she’d have a fuck ton of shit to work on with a shrink. But at least, for these last few hours, she knew she wasn’t in love with Landry, not the way she was with Ilsa.
I failed you, Ilsa. The only saving grace was that Ilsa wasn’t expecting to be rescued. She’d died—been murdered—oblivious to the possibility of a life together. As far as Ilsa had known, Sieglinde Thalberg had been beaten to death. She’d had no idea it had been Delaney’s plan all along to come back for her. That doesn’t make it okay. Now, Delaney was facing her own death sentence of sorts. Sure, she’d still be the same person fundamentally, but she wouldn’t have the memories of Ilsa or Landry, and both of them had made a huge impact on her life. They’d changed her for the better and she was losing that forever.
Her thoughts moved to Simson, and in wondering about where they’d put her body, she remembered how Simson had dumped Perry’s body like a bag of beer cans after a frat party. She had such little respect for human life, but she’d been loyal to Delaney’s plans. Simson’s death was another thing she was responsible for. They’d had sex, in a way that wasn’t dissimilar to the physicality she and Landry had shared, but that was all there was to it for Delaney. Simson’s yearning for more had mirrored Delaney’s desire for Landry. But beyond that, Simson had stood at Delaney’s side, ready to die for her if necessary. And I let her die for me. She’d seen Jackson approach, and she could have warned Simson, but her loyalty was with Landry. In that moment, her overwhelming concern had been to preserve Landry’s life. And for that, she sacrificed Simson. The mind wipe would mean it wasn’t something she’d have to live with, but in the here and now, Delaney’s guilt scratched away at her sanity like a dog checking for snakes in its basket.
She knew they’d have to leave both bodies behind. It was undignified and not a becoming end to their life as career soldiers, but there was no other choice. You had to be conscious and in good shape to survive the time circle. Maybe they could make time to properly bury them both.
She pressed her fingers over her bullet wound. Mason had done a damn fine job of stitching her up, but the painkillers were wearing off fast. The aftereffects of a dull ache were cranking up to a hot fire across her chest. She’d be up to traveling soon enough. Should she be counting down the hours of the life she knew, the one she wanted to keep but had thrown away? She assumed they’d regen her body, but then would she be debriefed? Would she have to sign something to consent to the mind wipe, or had she already done that when she signed her contract of employment? Delaney had been so enthused to join Pulsus, she hadn’t actually read it and simply assumed all would be well. Now she was wishing she hadn’t been so trusting.
God, to be back there again starting out like Jackson.
“Hey, buddy, how are you doing?”
“In need of meds. Can you hook me up?”
Landry called for Mason before sitting by the gurney and offering up a Baby Ruth. “How about this while you wait? Almost as good as morphine.”
Delaney smiled and gratefully accepted the candy bar, her all-time favorite. She tore open the packet and devoured it in three bites.
“Hungry much?”
“They have to be enjoyed quick, before you start reading the side info and decide against it when you see what they’re really made of.” Aside from her current vice of alcohol, she tried to avoid anything quite this bad for her body.
“Hey, Chief, what can I do for you?”
Landry motioned to Delaney and winked. “Your patient is in desperate need of relief.”
Delaney smirked but didn’t verbally respond to Landry’s suggestive innuendo. A wave of melancholy hit her like a sucker punch. She rubbed at her face as she tried to pull it back down and get it under control. She was losing all of this, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.
“There’s only one shot left. Are you sure you don’t want to keep it until we’re ready to go back?” Mason tilted her head. “The journey’s going to be rough on you. You don’t want to let your string go and fall through into the blackness.”
Delaney shrugged. “Would that be your advice?”
She nodded. “If you can handle the pain without wanting to gnaw through your own hand, yeah, that’s what I’d recommend.”
Jackson coughed. “Exactly how painful is the traveling through time thing?”
&
nbsp; Mason looked at her quizzically. “Why? It’s not like you’ve got to endure it.”
“Sure, I was just wondering.”
Jackson didn’t miss a beat nor did she make any eye contact with Landry that might have raised Mason’s suspicions. Delaney was impressed but had a feeling that Mason would be welcoming Jackson into Pulsus with open arms and a warm bed.
“It’s intense. Some people never get used to it. It’s like there’s a bubble of pressure around you, and the longer you travel, the closer it gets and the harder it presses. The time circle is only as big as it has to be for the largest traveler, so it affects them the most. Of the three of us,” Mason nodded toward Delaney and Landry, “Delaney is the biggest and I’m the smallest, so I’ll be less affected.”
Jackson furrowed her brow and look horrified. “It presses on you?”
“Yeah. We’re creating something that shouldn’t be there, and the universe struggles against it like it’s squeezing teenage acne.”
“Did you basically call us the pus inside a zit?”
Landry grinned. “I did. You have a problem with that?”
Delaney shifted farther up the bed, and the movement smarted like a son of a bitch. “I guess I’ve been called worse.”
“Can the universe push you out into…nothingness?”
“It’s not happened yet, but there’s a first time for everything,” Delaney answered and enjoyed Jackson’s almost imperceptible discomfort. Want to change your mind?
Landry narrowed her eyes at Delaney, knowing she was messing with Jackson. She ignored her. She was having too much fun, and toying with Jackson meant she was thinking less about the colossal change in circumstances she was facing.
“When’s the earliest date you’ve traveled back to?”
“A World War Two mission in 1942, but the vast majority of them have been in the twenty-first century.”
Mason touched Landry’s shoulder. “Are you mind wiping her before we leave so she doesn’t tell anyone any of this?” Her tone was serious, but the smirk on her face was telling.
