“Just protecting my property,” Asa Stone said. “The brainwaves should work just fine right through the glass. That’s all we need her to do. Then she disappears. Happy now? She’s real and she’s here. Just like I promised.”
Rage made Mark’s combat program surge. He almost smashed the instrument panel. “I’m on my way. With my security.”
Mark waited, teeth grinding, as Brenner mechanically relayed the message.
“Two for you and two for me, as we agreed,” Stone said. “If he stays here to monitor her, you come in with one more.”
Caroline was disappearing from Mark’s field of vision as Brenner followed Stone with his eyes. “Turn so I can see the girl!” he snarled into the comm. “Don’t look away from her for one single fucking second until I’m in the room with her!”
Brenner spun obediently back to face Caroline again, and Mark feasted his eyes on her. He was burning with eagerness to see her, smell her. Touch her.
Maybe he shouldn’t have brought the safe. He had every intention of taking Caroline back for himself, but shit happened. It would be better to get the safe opened and take possession of its contents now. They could discuss who got to fuck the girl after the other issue was settled. He was a practical man, not a slave to his impulses.
Three clueless unmods and a helpless girl against himself, five slave soldiers, and a truck full of space-age killing toys that he could not wait to play with. Yeah.
Finally, this was starting to be fun.
*
“Hey. Spotted three surveillance drones circling up there.” It was Hannah’s voice in his earpiece. “Flying low, probably armed. Do I block the frequencies now?”
“No,” Noah said. “Let him get closer. I’ll signal when it’s time.”
Noah peered through the screen of his thermal shield helmet. He hated having to look through mechanical eyes, particularly in a combat situation, but the drones were sure to have good imaging tech, and their team had to stay hidden.
Mark’s truck sped closer. Two distinct heat signatures were visible in the cab.
“No one in the woods?” Hannah asked.
“Haven’t seen anyone yet,” Noah said. “Doesn’t mean they’re not there.”
“My brother, the optimist,” Hannah murmured.
“You’re ready to pull Caro out the second I tell you?”
Hannah made an exasperated sound. “As promised. Relax.”
Right. Sure. He watched as Mark’s truck rumbled past the marker.
“Now,” he said. “Jam all frequencies except for this one.”
“Done,” Hannah said, with satisfaction.
He recognized Mark as he got out of the truck. Tall, dirty blond hair, hawk nose, ice blue eyes. Dead heart.
Mark stood, arms folded, while some musclebound dude in a helmet and body armor hoisted a huge silver box out of the back of the vehicle. The GodsEye safe. Asa came out, as he had done before, and exchanged words Noah could not hear.
The three men went inside. Their heat signatures were soon lost to sight.
Noah risked lifting the faceplate on the shield, and peered bare-eyed at Zade and Sisko’s positions. “He’s in,” he said into the comm. “Get into position.” He scanned one last time for heat or energy sigs—
And saw a ripple of movement in the leaves. Not wind. He searched again. Close to Zade, too close. There. Animal?
No. The fucking tree wasn’t swaying back and forth, it was moving forward. Zade couldn’t hear it because of the protective headphones he’d wired into his helmet to block his stun and kill codes. Shit.
“Zade! Behind you!” he shouted into the comm, as the attacker sprang.
Zade spun around and went down in a flurry of thrashing foliage.
“Hannah!” he shouted. “We’re under attack! Get Caro out! Now!”
Trees bent and branches cracked. Zade was still fighting. Which meant that the attacker hadn’t used the code. And Zade could fight like a demon straight out of hell.
Noah sprinted toward Caro.
*
Caro shivered. That beam of bright, blood-tinged light made her feel like a witch doll on display in a glass case. But she was still alive, and Noah’s final, searing kiss still tingled and burned on her lips.
Asa had left. So strange, to just stand there and wait, offering herself up. She stared down at the man Mark had sent to monitor her. Big and strong, weapons slung all over him, but his eyes looked dull. Lost.
Familiar, too. She studied his face as recognition dawned. The TV interview she’d seen online. This was Brenner Jameson, father of two-year-old Callie.
The door into the box behind her crashed open. Hannah beckoned. “Come on!”
She whipped her head around. “What happened?”
“We’re under attack!” Hannah grabbed her hand. “Noah said to pull you now!”
Caro sprinted after her, and even so Hannah practically yanked her arm from its socket, dragging her faster. Hannah dragged a camo tarp off a massive motorcycle, and straddled it, revving the engine. “Get on!”
Caro obeyed, clutching Hannah’s body as the bike took off, banging and thudding over the rough terrain.