“I don’t think they were going after you, specifically.” Drake didn’t sound altogether certain about that, however. “I think… I fear, if they believe you were compromised, they sent the bag and tag team to follow you back to us.”
“Not that I don’t appreciate the save, but if you really think that, why did you rescue me? If you walked away at that exact moment, never contacted me again, they would’ve come up high and dry.”
The strongman gave her a very long look and then glanced down to his wide hands and back up again.
“I don’t leave anyone behind, if I can help it. You didn’t ask for this, Joss. We’re the reason you’re in this kind of trouble. And, from everything I’ve ever learned about our adversaries, they don’t take losing well.”
He cared. It shocked her, because he didn’t know her. She’d been a target, a means to an end, and while he’d taken time to make sure she understood what was going on…he’d also kept her tied to a chair for three days.
He also didn’t use any kind of overt pain to torture me. He asked questions, over and over again. He curtailed my movements. But he also made sure I had food to eat and water to drink. She was pretty certain she’d used the facilities more than once—by herself. Those memories were a little foggy. Yes, he put her in an untenable position, but if he really was fighting a war, and she had been a prisoner of it, he’d at least treated her well. Or I really have just gone off the deep end and fallen for my captor. Yes, I need to start seeing my psychotherapist again. She’s going to love this story.
“Joss.” Drake’s voice sounded solemn and his eyes looked deeply concerned. “You didn’t ask for any of this. If you want me to walk away, I will, but only after I’m certain that you’re safe. I should never have involved you.”
Blowing out a breath, Joss leaned her head against the cool stone. “I’ve been meaning to ask, why did you pick me? I mean, me, specifically. There are more than a hundred of us on the different shifts working at that laboratory facility. Why did you choose me?”
He glanced away for a split-second and she almost thought she glimpsed embarrassment in his expression. Although she wasn’t certain about that. She didn’t know him well enough to read his expressions. Did she?
“I’m a grunt,” she added, in order to put pressure on the situation. “I don’t make the schedules. I don’t have access to the more secure facilities, and I basically walk a patrol circuit around the property. I’m a nobody. Why me?”
“I liked the look of you.” The admission seemed to cost Drake a little. He spread his hands and looked down at his palms as though they might hold the answer that he was looking for. “I thought, perhaps, if you looked honest, seemed honorable, that you would be both of those things.”
While his abashed admission was both charming and adorable, it also worried her a great deal in regard to his strategic skills. “Because I looked honest and honorable? How does one look honest and honorable? Truly, because I’ve seen people with the loveliest faces who turned out to be the biggest jerks.”
Another shrug and he glanced back to the street level. “I spent a lot of years in a crèche.” He didn’t define what that was, but it sounded not fun. “Most of us in the crèche were there because we were orphans, either through circumstance or choice. Either the parents didn’t want the kids or the parents were dead. Sometimes, the kids came in because the town had been wiped out and the kids were all that was left—gathered up like refuse and dropped off to be recycled.” Steel laced pain punctuated every single syllable. “Kids are mostly the same. They choose their friends based on shared circumstances and shared interests. When you are in the crèche, sometimes you pick the kid who looked the most like you. We didn’t have parents to say, hey, these are my people and these are the ones for you to aspire to. Instead, we found like with like. “
She understood that, mostly. She grown up in an ethnically diverse neighborhood and, yeah, sometimes like did gravitate toward like. Not always, and she’d been blessed with friends on of all ethnic persuasions and genders. Still, she wasn’t a fool. People judged based on appearances, skin color, hairstyle, and even small things like whether teeth were whiter, yellow, or crooked. Could you pass? How deep was your skin tone? Yes, she got that. Of her own ethnically diverse genetic heritage, she’d been labeled everything from a really brown spic to really light African-American, too a not-red skinned enough to be Native American. There was always someone with a label.
“I think I understand,” she told him when she realized he seemed to be waiting for her to acknowledge what he’d said. “While I appreciate the insight, maybe we could do this when we’re not hiding out on a rooftop with group of soldiers chasing us, intent on throwing you into some kind of experimental tank and me in a deep, dark hole?”
He gave her shoulder a light squeeze before he pressed two fingers against her pulse point. The warmth of his hand seemed to chase away all the chill in her soul. “We’re safe enough for now right here. The worst thing you can do when you’re running from someone is to actually run. We’re out of sight and…” he gestured upward at toward the tower above them. For the first time, she noticed the wide plain of cell towers, all stretching up toward the sky. Where the hell were they?
“We can scramble electronics. If they try to use satellite imagery to locate us, they’re going to mess up the footprint.”
She had no idea how that would work, but since he sounded so confident, she was going to go with it.
“Okay, so in the crèche, like went with like, so your friends looked like you.”
Drake nodded once. “Except not everyone who looked like me really had my best interests at heart, and there was one guy… His name was Chastain. Chastain knew he was meant for bigger things, better things. While most of us didn’t know where we come from, where we’d been born, or what our genetic history might be… Chastain was convinced he knew what his was. He’d been born a prince, and while his father might’ve died or given them up, that didn’t mean he wasn’t a prince anymore.”
Delusional, but Joss kept the thought to herself. On the other hand, she’d had friends in the foster care system. Sounded like this Chastain was a lot like that. “Go on,” she encouraged him.
“There’s not much else to tell. Chastain thought he was better than everyone else. We were all his friends because we were supposed to be. Only we weren’t friends. He might be a friend to us, but we would never be friends to him. He learned everything about everyone in the crèche. He would use that information to trade with the corporations, if he found out something worth knowing. Something that might benefit them. He did it without regard to what effect it had on the people around him.”
Understanding kindled within Joss. “He discovered your abilities.”
He answered with a single nod.
“What did they do to you?” Joss feared she already knew the answer, based on everything else they’d told her. Still, she wanted to hear it. No, wanted was the wrong word. She needed to hear it. She needed to understand.
She needed to understand Drake.
“That’s a story for another day,” Drake said, denying her the knowledge. “Just understand that I learned Chastain had a beautiful face, a handsome exterior. But his soul was twisted with evil. Because it was selfish. I watched you in your interactions. Every time you met fellow guards, or when you came and went to the main gates, you always had a kind word for the person you were talking to. You always met their gaze. You always offered a smile. You always seem to remember their names. You looked honest.” Drake stood suddenly and extended his hand to her once more. “And honorable. Which you proved today.”
She accepted the hand up and, though her muscles were still weak, she felt stronger. “I really hope I can say thank you someday.”
Drake grinned and her heart squeezed. “Me too.”
Okay, enough soppy stuff. Survival first, lust later. “Now what, big man?”
Chapter 10
Drake gave them an ho
ur, holding his position on the roof, away from the traffic cameras. Neither he nor Joss said much during that time as they both listened and kept watch. When he saw no sign of her pursuers, he carried her over the buildings another ten blocks before they descended onto the street.
She handled the second ride with far more equanimity than the first. At street level, they blended into a heavier crowd and then undertook a long walk toward the waterfront. Twice, he caught Joss studying him with a question in her eyes, but she held her tongue.
The winding, indirect route took them to the waterfront. Drake didn’t relax his vigilance until they passed through the security gates then down to the warehouses. Once inside, he checked the access panel. After he was certain they hadn’t breeched the location, Drake engaged the protocols then led her deeper into the building, through the façade of decay and debris to the safe house he’d constructed more than twenty years before.
Shock rippled through Joss’s doubtful expression when he released an air pressure lock then slid open the door to admit her.
“I’m going to do my best to stop being surprised by you,” she muttered then strode inside. Drake tried not to smile, but couldn’t deny the spark of pleasure her comment elicited. After securing the door behind him, he engaged the lights. The power draw on the city grid wouldn’t earn any attention, and he’d installed three power generators, each powering the next so that the loop would allow them power, even in the event of a blackout.
“It’s very…austere.” She dropped her backpack on the wooden table and glanced from the pair of chairs, a single lamp and a television screen to the utilitarian kitchen stretching along the far wall.
“It’s not meant for long-term comfort.” He sent a message to Simon and the others. They needed to know he was safe but it would be some time before he reached out. An acknowledgement arrived immediately, and Simon must have believed him, because he didn’t extend a mental tap.
“What now?” The echo of her previous question wasn’t lost on him but, before he could answer, she raised a hand. “I get that we’re hiding, though to what end, I haven’t figured out. Are we waiting on the others? Will they try to come for us?”
“No,” he said with a quiet shake of his head. “We’re on our own. It is easier to hide two than it is four or six.” More boots on the ground wouldn’t help them, anyway. “The question, of course, is what was their goal in pursuing you.”
“I don’t know.” A consternated frown tightened her brow. “They didn’t give me any clues, other than they advised me strongly to take my vacation time and that they might make a place for me elsewhere in the company.”
If they suspected her after only a handful of days’ absence, then perhaps they’d had their doubts previously. Or maybe they were simply paranoid. More likely the latter than the former.
Drake studied her. She appeared normal, having gone to work in clothes he’d seen any number of pedestrians wearing in the street. Black jeans, pale blue t-shirt, covered by an unbuttoned, short-sleeved, dark blouse. Her shoes were standard work boots, sensible and supportive. Yet, she appeared more beautiful. He couldn’t put his finger on the change. Perhaps the lens through which he viewed her had added to her attractiveness.
She grew ever more fascinating to him the longer she remained. In all, he hadn’t realized how sorry he was he’d involved her in what had become a very personal battle. “When I had the idea to take you in for questioning, I never thought there would be trauma. I thought I would be able to snag you while you slept, get the answers we needed, then return you…And you would never know.” At her somewhat skeptical expression, he gave her a small smile and shrugged. “I was going to anesthetize you, remove you from the apartment, and take you back to Simon. He would have been able to extract the info then let me return you with you none the wiser.”
He shook his head. “It sounded a lot better inside my head, and I admit I was wrong about all of the above. I don’t think I could ever apologize for even having the idea. All I can say is I was desperate.”
Joss folded her arms. “Desperation I get, but becoming a monster? I’ve shot people for less.”
“If you’ll recall, you did shoot me.”
“I shot you with a Taser, and it didn’t take you down.”
“No... But, for what it’s worth, I felt it for the next three days.” The chagrin didn’t end there.
“Yeah, not feeling bad for you there.”
Drake shook his head. “I don’t feel that bad for me, either, so while I know what I did, and I know I shouldn’t have done it, and that even being desperate doesn’t justify what I did, I still hope you can find a way to accept my apology.”
“Apology accepted. Now, what the hell do we do to fix all of this?”
She continued to surprise him.
“I have some ideas.” He walked over to the fridge and retrieved two bottles of water. He tossed her one then unscrewed his before taking a long drink. “I don’t know how much more you want to be involved.”
“Involved.” She snorted. “Not sure how much more involved you’re worried about. I’ve already lost my job and gone on the run. I’m currently hiding somewhere in…Queens, I think. Chances are, I can’t go home now, if ever. So, skip the worried about my involvement argument. My involvement isn’t important.”
Information was. He and the others had penetrated her heart with the patients, enough so that she’d been willing to give up her position working for the security company. A position he thought, based on what little he knew about her, was the only thing she had in her life. Was that merely wishful thinking on his part? What did he really know about Joss Archer?
“What we do may have long-term ramifications, not just for us, but also for you to be involved. There’s a chance, albeit a small one, that they have no idea you are involved with us.” Not likely, but he needed to make the attempt to protect her.
“It doesn’t matter how small or great the chances are. They tried to snatch me off the street. Maybe they think I know more than I let on. Maybe I do know more. Whatever their reasons are, I’d rather not wait until they are interrogating me at some black sight to figure out I was better off staying here.”
Drake ran a hand over his face. It was moments like these that made him a better follower than leader. He didn’t like having to make snap decisions without assurance of a solid landing. The flaw separated him from others. Garrett responded emotionally to challenges. No matter how much Drake liked Simon, the telepath preferred rationalizing his way through. Rex kept his own council, but seemed to walk a fine line, willing to make the hardest of choices. Michael? Somehow Michael saw the big picture, with all the elements forming separate, yet essential pieces, and then he could make a call. Drake was just good at getting the job done.
“Drake?” Joss’s voice penetrated the haze wrapping itself around Drake’s brain. He looked over to find her studying him. “It’s going to be okay. I’m just giving you a hard time. Whoever these people are, whatever their reasons are… I don’t care if they’re ‘just following orders.’ I cannot and will not countenance human experimentation. That means even enhanced human experimentation. I’ve seen what torture can do, and I know there are people who will argue that there is always a time and a place for it. Like if you’re dealing with a terrorist, in a life-and-death situation, when a choice has to be made in that moment, and if you don’t get the information from this person who has it, more lives could be lost.” She shook her head. “When you cross that line, it becomes the problem. I fought in that war to protect American freedoms and American lives, and to protect this idea. It’s more than just an idea though. It has to be more than an idea.”
He couldn’t imagine a world were those freedoms existed so perfectly, so intrinsically, tied within the identity of oneself. Couldn’t imagine believing with every fiber of his being in the rightness of the cause because of when and how he was raised.
“What?” she demanded when he simply stared at her.
“I just can’t believe you summed up everything driving us to go back in time so cleanly, and so perfectly.”
She unscrewed the bottle cap on the water and took a very long drink before lowering it. Still not saying anything, Joss ran a hand through her hair. “Yeah, I’m still not dealing with time travel. I just can’t wrap my head around it. Maybe I don’t want to wrap my head around the concept, but I do believe in heroes, and I do believe in fighting for the right thing. We’re on the same page here, at least mostly. What’s your plan?”
What was his plan? He knew what the original idea had been, but they’d strayed so far afield from where he’d been going with it the first place that he wasn’t even sure it was a viable plan anymore. “I need to know if Michael and Rex are in that facility. Step one.”
With half-grin, Joss raised her eyebrows “Let me guess. Step two is getting them out of there, right?”
* * *
Joss took the next several hours to try and remember every single thing she could about the installation. From the patrols that they manned to what facilities each building housed. When she began going over security clearance levels, however, Drake honed in on the building she never had the clearance to enter. He asked her a dozen questions about those buildings in particular. Unfortunately, she couldn’t give him more information, because she’d never been allowed to go into them. When she brought up the bag and tag team, however, Drake’s expression went from open and curious to closed off and fierce. If she were a gambling woman, which she wasn’t, she would bet he was furious.
“Bag and tag team?” No emotion colored his voice and, if not for the way the light played across the muscle ticking beneath his gold-tattooed jaw, she might’ve thought him a statue.
“I know how it sounds, particularly based on everything I’ve learned. But I promise you, I thought what we were doing was grabbing sleeper agents who happened to be bio-enhanced soldiers working for enemy governments.”
Unstoppable Page 11
