“I didn’t say anything.”
“You don’t have to.” Reid’s eyes narrowed. “Your face says exactly what I’m thinking. This should have been a simple phase-and-go with some fireworks left behind to blow up the boat.” He shook his head. “It would have been easier to prevent this from happening in the first place. If Dalir really wanted us to handle shit—.”
“We’d have the power to go back in time and not just forward.” The thought had crossed Thane’s mind often, but there wasn’t a damn thing they could do about it. “I hear you, but keep your head in the game. Take a look around and make sure we don’t have unexpected visitors.” He cued up his throat mic. “Casper One, what’s your sit rep?”
“We’re at rally point with the package.”
“Rally point. Roger.” Mace and Colby had made it back to the ship.
One of the many knots in Thane’s gut eased. Once Fineway destroyed the samples, they’d reunite him with his daughter. Then they’d turn over all the information about Red Path Anarchy to the proper authorities.
This time tomorrow, instead of an MP5, he’d have his guitar and a shot of whiskey in his hands.
Alarms sounded from the cleanroom, and hairs rose on Thane’s nape. He ran to the observation window and switched on the intercom. “Dr. Fineway, what’s happening?”
“Don’t come in. I’ve flooded the cleanroom with a contaminant. I’ve also destroyed the antidote along with my samples.” Fineway took off his protective headgear. He gestured to a bin with burning papers and the lab oven on the counter. “My notes are gone, and I’ve fried my laptop. The work they made me do isn’t finished, but what I’ve done can never get out. The only place it exists now is in my mind.”
Thane’s blood ran like an icy river through his veins. “Doctor Fineway, don’t. We’ll protect you.”
“I won’t take the chance of having people I care about used against me. This is the only way I can keep them safe.” The scientist lifted a syringe and tears filled his eyes. “Please tell my wife and daughter I love them. And I’m sorry.”
Chapter 2
Celine struggled in the middle of a best-friends-forever sandwich. “This is harassment. You can’t barge into my apartment and order me around.”
“No, this is an intervention.” Ari shoved her mammoth-sized purse against Celine’s butt, and they stumbled into the bedroom. “You’re not spending another depressing Friday night snoozing in front of the television.
“I have plans.” Thai-fusion takeout, a bottle of wine, and lusting over hot actors in her favorite crime drama. It wasn’t exciting, but it was the perfect plan. Or at least it had been until Ari dropped an earring in the trash and discovered the tickets.
“You’re going out. Deal with it.” Lauren looped her blond hair into a haphazard twist. “Ready, Ari?”
Ari’s brown eyes narrowed as she twirled a pair of crystal-studded handcuffs. “Yep.”
“Hold on a minute.”
Instead, they pounced, stripped off Celine’s sleep shirt, and secured her to the bedpost.
They’ve lost their minds. Why else would two grown women raid her closet as if hunting down the last Prada on Earth? Celine pulled on the cuffs. “If you don’t let me go, you’re back on my shit list.”
“Didn’t know we were off it.” Lauren, carrying a red, strapless mini dress, stepped over a mound of clothes. “Let’s do this.”
Ignoring Celine’s protests, they uncuffed her and dragged her into the bathroom where the two painted, curled, sprayed, and spritzed her into submission. Grinning, they put her in the dress and slipped a pair of stilettos on her feet. Done. They high-fived the result.
“You both suck.” Celine snatched her clutch from the dresser and stomped out.
A half hour later, they shuffled through the crowd at the hottest new martini club in town, The Song.
“Table on the right, near the stage.” Ari raised her voice over lively conversations, clinking glasses, and one of the hottest pop music tracks playing over the house speakers.
“Got it.” Lauren, stunning as usual in a white dress and gladiator-style sandals, turned her hellified get-out-of-my-way attitude up a notch. The crowd rolled back like the parting of the Red Sea.
Dodging elbows and drink servers, Celine made her way to the table. She sank into her seat, silently cursing the shoes, the dress, and the two master intimidators who’d made her squeeze into them.