“I don’t need protecting.”
“And I don’t need to attend another funeral for someone I love. And that is the absolute truth.”
He looked away. She hadn’t said love in the past tense, but the present. All he’d ever wanted was her, loving him while he loved her right back. A part of him wanted to let all the lying go and be done with it. That part didn’t want to dwell on the past or the lost years, but on the future. The other part told him he’d be a total idiot to even fall for any more of her bullshit.
She touched his cheek and tilted her head to meet his gaze. “You’ve got nothing to say?”
A rap at the door had him tensing. He didn’t want to continue this conversation, but he also didn’t want it to end. Once they left this room, their plan would be set in motion and Naomi would be one step closer to a murderer.
“Give us another minute,” he called to whoever was at the door, yet kept his eyes on hers. No matter what she’d done to him in the past, a part of him would always love her—even the fabricated version. He couldn’t regret the time they’d been together, not when they’d been some of the best in his life.
“I don’t know what you want me to say. I loved you, wanted to marry you and you walked.” He shrugged. “Now I know why.”
Her eyes narrowed, just before she punched him in the arm. “You’re such a dick.” She hit him again. “A selfish prick.”
He grabbed her fists and hauled her against his chest. “I sure as hell don’t see it that way. From where I’m standing you’re the one who—”
“Quit pointing fingers at me and open your eyes. I love you, Jake. From the moment I met you, I wanted you in my life. I made mistakes, we all have, only mine were monstrous. I can’t go back and change the past. I can’t go back and right any wrongs, or bring my family back. The only thing I can do is move forward. This past weekend, I believed that could be possible. For the first time in five years, I honestly thought we had a chance. Just remember one thing, Jake. When I was with you, every time we laughed, kissed, touched, made love, that was the real me. My name and past didn’t matter. All that did was loving you. My feelings were and are real. Like it or not, I love you. Even when you’re being a stubborn jerk.”
She struggled to break free, but he hung on tight for fear of losing her. Call him pathetic or a glutton for punishment, he didn’t care. Deep down, he knew she was right. They’d both allowed her past to hold them down and away from each other. Did any of it truly matter? Two days ago when he’d found out why she’d changed her name, he’d been ready to dive right back in and start over again. She’d lied in order to save him, and right now she was ready to give up her life to save countless others.
Looking at her tear-soaked face, into her blue eyes—eyes he’d been dreaming of for years—humbled him. Selfless and sacrificing, he didn’t deserve her love, but he wouldn’t reject it. Instead he’d embrace it and, if there were any consequences in the future, he’d deal with them if and when they came.
“I never stopped loving you,” he said, bringing her closer to him. “As hard as I tried, I could never get you out of my head. You’re right. I am a selfish prick.”
She drew in a shaky breath and gave him a small, hopeful smile. “And I’m a liar.”
He let go of her fists and cupped her cheeks. “No, you’re selfless and generous, and I don’t deserve you.”
Her warm breath fanned across his lips as she inched closer. “I don’t deserve you. Promise me you’ll stay in Chicago,” she said, her imploring eyes on his.
“I can’t.”
“Jake, you have to. I—”
He crushed his mouth against hers. Whatever she had to say wouldn’t change his mind. His resentment and anger still lingered and it would take time to fully trust her again. But he couldn’t deny loving her. Not to her, and not to himself. He’d been calling himself pathetic for wanting a woman who’d lied to him time and again. Holding her in his arms, breathing her in, tasting her—he deepened the kiss. He didn’t care what loving her made him. He cared about keeping her alive and them working together to sort out their future.
Someone pounded on the door. He ignored it and, desperate to cling to the moment, feasted hungrily on her mouth.
“Gotta go,” Dante called from the other side of the office door. “Now, Jake.”
The urgency in Dante’s voice had him tearing his mouth from Naomi’s. He rested his forehead against hers and sifted his hands through her soft, thick hair. “I don’t want to let you go.”
“We have no choice.” She gave him a quick kiss. “Right now, I think I’m more scared about having my tooth pulled. Will you stay with me while Dante does it?”
He took her hand and led her toward the door. “Of course,” he promised, but wasn’t sure if he could stomach it or refrain from knocking Dante on his ass. This plan they’d concocted was bad enough. Watching Dante rip a molar from Naomi’s head was fucked up.
The former SEAL met them in the hall, his impatience apparent in his narrowed eyes. “We don’t have a lot of time.” He led them into the evidence and evaluation room, where Ian and Owen were waiting. “And I’m not going to lie, this is going to hurt like a bitch.”
“No it’s not,” Rachel said, breezing through the door. She held up a small brown paper bag. “My contact over at DecaLab came through.”
Dante visibly relaxed, Jake did, too. The man might be badass, but Jake had no doubt Dante wanted nothing to do with playing dentist today.
“Thank God.” Naomi blew out a breath and sank into a chair. “I have a high tolerance for pain, but I’ll be honest. I wasn’t sure if I could’ve handled having a tooth pulled without anesthetic. So what’s the alternative?”
“Wait.” Owen held up a hand. “I thought DecaLab was who we used for forensic DNA testing.”
“It is, but they do a bunch of other stuff, too.” Rachel set the bag on the table, then walked to the corner of the room and opened a file cabinet drawer. “Six months ago, Chihiro Kimura, my contact at DecaLab, along with several of their geneticists, began working on a prototype for a private company.” She moved back to Naomi’s side and touched her shoulder. “I need you to remove your shirt.”
Naomi glanced at him just before pulling her long sleeved shirt over her head. Thankfully she’d worn one of those strappy tank tops underneath. They might be under the wire, but he sure as hell didn’t want Ian, Dante and Owen seeing Naomi in just her bra.
“And,” Dante prompted.
“They’ve created a small chip, the size of a piece of long grain rice, that can be implanted under the skin,” Rachel explained. “This chip will not only be used as a GPS device, but eventually it will be able to monitor the chip-wearer’s heart rate and body temperature. DecaLab is going to take it a step further and work on ways to encode the chip with a person’s unique genetic sequence.” The instrument Rachel pulled from the bag reminded him of a digital thermometer he’d seen one of his sister-in-laws use on her kids. “If they’re successful, the chip would perfectly ID the carrier.”
“Which would prove helpful in medical or criminal matters,” Ian added.
“Sounds a little too Big Brother for my taste,” Owen said, watching his wife slip on a pair of latex gloves.
Ian cocked a dark brow. “I requested the prototype. But I’m sure the government is working on similar chips. I’m also sure the government’s reasons for their version greatly differs from mine.”
Ian’s pulse on not only the latest innovations used to help prevent crimes or capture criminals, but also his knowledge of high tech gadgets never ceased to amaze Jake. Whatever the case, he agreed with Owen and thought the genetic chips sounded like something out of a shitty, sci-fi cyborg movie. “Do we have a monitor we can use to track Naomi’s movements?” he asked, refocusing the attention to the task at hand. “Once we land in Norfolk and Hunnicutt’s driver has Naomi, we’ll be blind without one.”
“Absolutely.” Rachel tore open a package of sanitiz
ing wipes. “Along with the prototype, Chihiro gave me the GPS tracking program we can use to locate Naomi. I’ll not only have it here on my computer, but I can upload the program onto your cell phone and, in theory, it should work like any app.”
“In theory,” he echoed. Naomi’s life was on the line. He didn’t want theories, only hardcore certainties.
“No worries, Jake.” Rachel took out a two inch plastic bag. “I’m the one who’s been working with DecaLab to design the monitoring program. If we run into a glitch, I should be able to solve it.”
“Is that the chip?” Naomi asked.
“Yep, and I’m going to insert it just above your armpit. The mark it will leave is small. If, for some reason, Hunnicutt sees it he could attribute it to a shaving malfunction,” she said with a smile.
Naomi would have to be undressed and in a precarious position for Hunnicutt to notice the mark. And that didn’t settle well with Jake. At all. Especially when he remembered Naomi telling him about the night Hunnicutt and one of his men had attacked her. He clenched his fist wishing the piece of shit was in the room with them right now. He’d love nothing more than to beat him to death for ever laying a hand on Naomi.
“You’ll be monitoring me and can jump in and stop Christian if anything bad starts happening,” Naomi said, as if reading his mind.
Her reminder did little to lessen his concerns, but take the emotion away and his logical side knew she was right.
Rachel inserted the chip into the instrument. “Ready?”
Naomi raised her left arm, but quickly grabbed Rachel’s wrist with her free hand. “When this is over, I want the chip removed. I’m tired of feeling like I’m being watched.”
“Not a problem,” Rachel said, her tone soft and understanding.
Naomi let go of Rachel’s wrist, closed her eyes and turned her head away. “Do it.”
Rachel pressed the tip of the instrument against Naomi’s skin and pushed a button. “All done.”
Naomi craned her neck to where Rachel had injected the chip. “That’s it?”
“Yep. And a heck of a lot less painful than what Dante was going to do to you.”
“In my defense, I didn’t want to pull your tooth.” Dante moved to Naomi’s side and inspected the small mark. “Ingenious. If only—” He turned away and headed for the door. “We have to leave. Jake, are you armed?”
“Yeah.” He nodded, but didn’t meet the other man’s eyes. He didn’t want to see the pain in them. When he’d first joined CORE, Rachel had told him about Dante and everything he’d lost. If the chip Naomi now carried had been available six years ago, Dante would still have a family.
“Give me five minutes to sync the chip to the GPS monitoring system on my computer.” Rachel sat in front of her computer. “I also need to add the program to Jake’s phone. For back up, Dante’s too.”
Dante handed Rachel his cell phone. “I’ll be in my car,” he said and left the room.
Jake caught a tear trickling down Rachel’s cheek as she typed. He couldn’t wait for her to have the baby. Since becoming pregnant her emotional highs and lows were unpredictable.
“Don’t beat yourself up,” Owen said and rested a hand on her shoulder.
“I know, it’s just…chips like this do scream Big Brother, but on the flip side, to be able to find your child?” She rubbed a hand across her cheek, wiping the tear away. “Jake, let me have your phone.” She attached a USB cord to his phone and then her computer. In less than a minute, she removed the cord and handed it back to him. “You’re good to go.”
Jake took his and Dante’s phones. “Thanks.”
Owen offered his hand. “Kick some ass.”
“That’s the plan.”
“No.” Ian stood and leveled Jake with a hard stare. “The plan is to gain the necessary evidence to bring in the FBI. We can’t go rogue with this case. Not with it being high profile and the government agencies involved, understood?”
“Understood. But if Hunnicutt so much as lays a hand on Naomi, I don’t give a shit how high profile this case is or who’s involved. Hunnicutt is a dead man.”
*
Bloomington, Indiana
11:48 a.m. Central Daylight Saving Time
Vince’s stomach grumbled as he pulled into the parking lot of a three story office building. He’d have lunch on his way to the next delivery. He wasn’t a fan of eating while driving, and it was against company policy, but it would be the only way to stay on schedule and be near the hospital by three.
He checked his tablet, searched for the eight packages he would deliver to four different offices and pulled out the dolly. After the boxes were loaded, he entered the building and headed for the elevator. He delivered the first two packages to an accounting firm, and then headed down the hall to the law office also expecting a delivery. Once finished there, he took the elevator to the third floor, found the dental practice that was next on his list and dropped off another three boxes. With only two packages left, he pushed the dolly down the hall in search of the last company on his list. When he caught the suite number, but no company sign, he rapped on the door.
A young guy, dressed in jeans and a button down shirt answered. He adjusted his black framed glasses and looked from the boxes on the dolly to the BH-Xpress logo on Vince’s black jacket. “I’m not accepting those,” the guy said and nodded to the packages.
What kind of bullshit was this about? “Come again?” Vince asked and looked at his tablet, then to the suite’s number plate next to the door jamb. “Nexus, right?”
The guy scratched his short beard and rested his hand along the door frame. “Right place, wrong time for a delivery.” He flipped his wrist and looked at his watch. His eyes widened. “You need to get out of here,” he said, then started to close the door.
Vince stopped him. “Look, just sign this and I’ll leave the boxes in the hall.”
“And get blown to frickin’ pieces?” The guy shook his head. “No way, dude. Take them with you. Now, or I’ll call the police.”
The police? Serious bullshit. “Okay, sir,” Vince said, when he wanted to tell the guy he was a paranoid fool. This was the second time today he’d been turned away and had packages left undelivered. The first time he’d considered just leaving the packages at the door, but if the customer called into the BH-Xpress offices and demanded they were picked up, he’d have to backtrack and lose valuable time. As it stood, this guy was wasting even more of his time. “You’ll be able to pick up your packages at our main—”
“You won’t catch me within a mile of your company until the bombings stop.”
“Fair enough.”
“What’s not fair is that this country is contaminated with a disease called terrorism and your company is the carrier doing the infecting.”
On that note… “Well, when you’re ready for your packages, you can pick them up at our main office.”
“You’re being brainwashed, man.” He checked his watch again. “The terrorists are coming for us and hitting us where we least expect it. That delivery truck of yours could be a moving bomb. Do yourself a favor. Park it in a field far away from people and run.”
Vince grabbed the dolly and backed away toward the elevator. “Have a good day, sir.”
“You could be next,” the guy called after him and stepped into the hall. “Any one of us could be next. I know the truth. I’ve been watching reports and I know what’s going on out there.”
Vince stepped into the elevator and quickly pressed the button that would take him to the ground floor.
“There’s a connection,” the guy shouted. “The government knows it but isn’t telling the public. Another bomb is going to go off in—”
The elevator door slid shut. “Conspiracy freak,” Vince mumbled. When the elevator stopped on the ground floor, he wheeled the dolly back to the truck. After stowing the dolly and packages inside, he climbed into the cab and started the truck. He thought back to the concern in his wife’s voice whe
n she’d called him after the BH-Xpress plane had exploded, then remembered the lady at the pet shop and how she’d talked about the country being crippled by fear. People had a right to be scared. What was happening was serious and devastating. But paranoia wasn’t going to get anyone anywhere.
He pulled out of the parking lot and stopped at a red light. Since he had a ten minute drive to his next delivery, he reached for his lunch box. Still waiting for the light to change, he took a bite of the ham sandwich he’d made that morning and turned on the radio.
“I’m stunned…just stunned,” Manny, one of the hosts of his favorite radio show, said.
“Supposedly the President is going to give a press conference about the bombings,” the show’s co-host announced. “It’s about time. How many more bombings will it take before the government steps in and does something?”
The light turned green and Vince stepped on the gas.
“They are doing something,” Manny countered. “The Feds are involved, along with FEMA, the Department of Defense, the—”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. We know all of this, but what are they doing?” the co-host asked. “I’ll tell you what they’re doing. Not a damn thing. Airlines are still allowing their planes to fly, schools are still open…hell, the National Guard should be in every major city across the country. In airports, train stations, bus depots, hospitals, universities. People should be sent home and told not to leave until whatever is happening stops.”
“Are you crazy?” Manny asked. “If the streets are left empty, imagine all the scum that would take advantage. I’m picturing looting and vandalizing and—”
“What we need is martial law,” the co-host said.
“You really are crazy,” Manny said. “You’re talking curfews, suspension of civil law and civil rights. And that’s not something I’m ready for.”
As Vince polished off his sandwich, he couldn’t help agreeing. He was no expert when it came to martial law, but didn’t like what he was hearing. This kind of talk wouldn’t ease people’s fears, but intensify them. He, for one, enjoyed his civil rights and didn’t want them taken away because the government and their agencies couldn’t find who was behind the bombings.
Ultimate Kill (Book 1 Ultimate CORE Trilogy) (CORE Series) Page 20
