Elite Metal-ARE-epub (90 page)

She realized the girl in the picture was Copper.

Hazel could tell just by looking that the kids hadn’t had any meaningful childhood.

She knew that the other woman probably wouldn’t appreciate her line of thought, but she still wanted to take that girl in the picture and tuck her under her wing and tell her that everything would be okay.

Yeah, that wasn’t something she’d ever say out loud, but that didn’t stop her from feeling it.

When she came to a leatherbound journal, Hazel opened it briefly and seeing John’s handwriting, she realized it was just that. A journal. She didn’t want to trespass, so she closed the book and put it back where she’d found it.

Instead, she picked up the notebook on Serum 17 and started reading again, doing her best to follow his notes and keep pace with his almost mad genius.

Maybe she was insane herself, because she had an idea for something that might counteract the effects of 17. It wasn’t anything as good as a vax, but it could help in the field, if she was right.

Chapter Seven

Mercury wasn’t going to ask her what they’d talked about. He couldn’t think about that right now. All he could think about was Andrew Wakemore.

There was a part of him that wanted to ask him why, but another part of him that didn’t care why. If he gave him an opportunity to speak that was an opportunity to escape, to take action.

So he’d just have to make himself right with not knowing.

“You know—” Copper said as they mounted their bikes, he on his Ducati and her on her Triumph “—we could always bring him in for
questioning
.”

She seemed to know exactly where his mind was at.

“He probably has a GPS implant. Fucker.”

“It could be fun trying to figure out where.”

“Do we have that kind of time?”

She seemed disappointed. “Probably not.”

“You sure you want to do this?” This could easily go south. He didn’t want her in the line of fire if she didn’t have to be. He knew she could handle herself, but this wasn’t the job. This wasn’t the mission. It was his personal revenge.

He could wax poetic about how it was for the greater good, and the greater good would definitely be served, but Merc didn’t care about that at the moment.

“That’s a stupid question.”

“Still had to ask it.”

He waited until the black sedan carrying his pretty little doctor was well on the way before he revved his bike and they hit the road.

Wakemore’s estate, or the Lakos Estate, was in an exclusive gated community that consisted of only Lakos employees. Like that wasn’t sketchy as fuck. The estate sat upon a hill overlooking a manmade lake. It was a modern eyesore, stark and sharp against the landscape. Ostentatious without being useful.

They ditched their bikes outside the gates and hid them under brush. As they crossed the landscaped space, keeping to the shadows, Merc left his version of little love notes in strategic places. Each set of explosives was keyed to a different frequency so when they made their escape, it would be a ballet of fire. Too bad he’d be too busy making his exit. He liked it when he could watch his handiwork in action. Gave him satisfaction of a job well done.

Wakemore must’ve been expecting him. The guards patrolled in threes. That seemed excessive for day to day activity, but who knew how many people he’d fucked over? Maybe this
was
standard for him. Especially if he was planning to double cross the Gallegos Cartel.

The CIA wouldn’t look too kindly on him if he didn’t.

The man had to be between a rock and a hard place, as the saying went. But Merc was about to make it easy on him. He wouldn’t have to worry about it if he was dead.

The first patrol, Copper took out two of the three with well-aimed blades in the backs of their heads and Merc snapped the other’s neck with a silent efficiency.

He owed her a whiskey for that kill though. It was a thing of sheer beauty.

She picked up the radio and keyed it to her blu-tooth, and motioned for them to go to the east to avoid another patrol. It was surprisingly easy to avoid the other patrols and it made him wonder if it was all a set up. Wakemore wasn’t stupid. Maybe the heavy security was only to lull his instincts.

Merc knew that when they found one of the rear entrances unsecured and unmanned that Wakemore was definitely expecting him, wanted him there. Of course, it had to be some kind of trap.

Copper motioned for him to hurry when he paused at the door. She knew just as well as he did that this was a setup, but she’d go into hell with him anyway.

He thought about her then, his Witch Hazel. What would happen to her if he didn’t come back from this, and he was sure she’d be okay. The team would look out for her and she’d get on with the life she was meant to have before he’d cocked it all up.

Not that he wanted to die, but he’d been fooling himself thinking that she needed him.

He pushed the thoughts of her to the back of his head and focused only on the task at hand.

Merc slid through the door, Copper behind him.

And there he was, that smug bastard, reclined on the couch wearing nothing but a robe and a blond on each arm.

“You’re a little earlier than I expected, John.”

“Get out,” Merc said to the blonds.

“That’s a hell of a greeting to the man who saved your life.”

He pulled his Ruger. “Only because you need me to develop a vax against 17.”

Wakemore took a long pull off his tumbler. “Figured it out, did you? Took you long enough. For a genius, you’re rather dull in the head on occasion.”

Something tugged at his awareness. Something…not right. Itching and burning began underneath his scars.

“What sort of treats do you have rigged for us, Andrew?”

The man grinned, sly and reptilian. “There it is, that gold nose of yours. Why, Serum 17 in all of its pure glory.” He tapped his heart. “The second this stops, this whole place will be nothing but a cloud of 17. Keeps my business partners honest, if you know what I mean.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Did you like my gift?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“The doctor. Made her all hot for your ugly face, didn’t it?”

Mercury roared and descended on him, grabbing his throat, but he didn’t move, didn’t even flinch.

“Merc,” Copper said, low.

“You’re a motherfucker.”

“I am at that, boy.”

“What are you talking about?”

He patted the blonds on their hips and they got up and left the room. Copper stood frozen, an anchor.

“Why did you think you were recruited right out of MIT?”

“Because I’m good at what I do.”

“Because you’re the best. Why are you the best?”

“Sell your snake oil somewhere else.” Wakemore was just trying to fuck with his head. He needed a way to kill him and still protect them both from the 17. He wasn’t leaving without the prize he came for.

“Why do you think the Marines snapped you up after the accident?”

“Because you made me a killer. And I’m good at what I do.”

“I did make you a killer. I made you.”

“Fuck you, Wakemore.”

“No, I did. You were the product of years of genetic modifications to achieve that IQ. Then I followed the recipe:
How To Make A Sociopath
.” He laughed. “It was really rather easy. I just dumped you in the system. You weren’t held, you weren’t nurtured, you were raised by people who were paid to house and clothe you. And you are my best creation. My most deadly. Until 17.”

“
I
designed 17.”

“But you didn’t give it wings. That was the
coup de grace
, making it fly.”

“You bastard,” Copper murmured.

“The best is there’s nothing you can do about it, is there?” He tapped his chest. “If you want to keep your little doctor alive, you’re just going to have to let this and what I’m doing on the street slide.”

“Or, I could just kill you. See, making me a sociopath? Why would I give a fuck what you do to anyone?”

Wakemore cocked his head to the side. “Self-preservation. You have it.”

“Not so much.” He grabbed the man by his throat and looked up at Copper. “Run.”

Copper didn’t question him, didn’t tell him not to do it, or anything else. She just took off running.

“How far will the cloud go, I wonder?” He kept checking to see how far she’d gone.

“It will kill you, Thrace.” Wakemore growled, finally taking him seriously.

“Maybe. Maybe not. But you’ll be dead and that’s enough for me.”

Andrew clawed at his wrist where Merc’s hand was locked around his throat and Mercury used his great strength to lift him high into the air. The man kicked and fought, but he was like a fly buzzing against a mountain.

John squeezed.

“I’m your father…” He clawed.

“You are my engineer. And your time is over.”

“Protected…CIA.”

John said nothing, but squeezed harder. Watching the eyes bulge out of his head while the light inside them died.

The body emptied, his legs kicked and twitched until finally, his tongue lagged out of his mouth and life-functions ceased.

There was no grand explosion, no fireball from hell like he’d intimated. Only a small puff of air through the vents that carried with it the scent of death.

Roses and burning paper.

He launched himself toward the door that had sealed closed, but it hadn’t been installed to withstand the fury of a beast like Mercury.

He crashed through the glass as his face burned, the acid air gnawing at pink flesh like a smorgasbord.

John felt this like he’d felt nothing else. The memory of Shadowfain paled in comparison to the absolute agony that gripped him now. But it didn’t matter. He was dead.

The pain reminded him of fire, of the fire that destroyed the lab after 17 had gone airborne the first time. Fucker must’ve used it to destroy what was left of the weapon hanging in the air.

He pulled one of his devices from his trench and activated it before throwing it through the hole of broken glass and the encroaching cloud. It blew and the cloud of death burst into flame, crawling up the side of the building—fleeing toward the sky.

“You dumb fuck,” Chrome’s voice startled him. “I’m the one who blows shit up.”

“The whole team could’ve gotten in on this action. Always the lone wolf, Merc. This is some bullshit,” Steele grabbed his other shoulder.

They sprayed him in the face with something that smelled like sugar and it instantly neutralized the burn. They hauled him to his feet and dragged him through the masses of scurrying guards who paid them no attention at all.

Fuck, but his face and fingers hurt. It hurt to breathe. His throat felt like he’d swallowed acid.

He swore and stumbled, Chrome and Steele holding him up, but his guts twisted and he coughed blood, a crimson spray bubbled out of his mouth.

“Goddamn you, John,” Copper hissed as his world faded to black.

Chapter Eight

“You said you can do things. Prove it. Fix him,” Copper demanded when they brought in the bloodied, newly burned, and barely breathing body that was once John Thrace.

Panic seized her, terror at the idea that his life was in her hands. But this was what she did, what she’d trained for. Emergency medicine was her specialty.

She looked up at the two men who’d approached her in the lab—Chrome and Steele. “Did you spray him with the alkalizing solution?”

“Yeah. That’s when he went tits up,” Steele growled.

“Did it burn your hands when you touched him? No? Then it worked.” She tried not to snap. She knew that they were all on the same team. Hazel looked up at Chrome. “What do you have in the way of emergency supplies?”

“Anything you need, I can get.”

“Right now, I need a bag of saline, some serious antibiotics to keep his burns from getting infected, gauze, and morphine. If he wakes up, he’s going to be in a lot of pain.”

“He can’t feel anything,” Steele corrected her.

“This is my domain, Marine. As far as anyone is concerned, when it comes to my patient, I am God. Don’t fuck with me. Either get me what I need, or get the hell out of my lab.”

To her surprise Steele laughed. “Yes, ma’am. Should be interesting discussion you two have when he wakes up about whose lab this is.”

The guys went and secured the requested supplies and Copper stood, waiting for direction.

“Tell me what to do.”

“Help me get his shirt and trench off so I can see just how bad his wounds are.”

The pair lifted him and stripped the garments off, both wet from the alkalizing solution.

His fingertips were bloody and oozing, the smooth skin on his neck had begun to pucker and seep and the unscarred side of his face was now a slashed mess.

“It’s not too bad.” For all that it was awful, it still could’ve been worse.

“What are you talking about? He looks like churned shit,” Copper spat.

“So he has a few more scars. These will heal. I need to see what’s going on inside. A blood panel should help.”

“This is crap, do you hear me, John?
Crap
. If you don’t wake up…”

Somehow, hearing Copper
not
swear at him was more poignant. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. Remember, this is what I do.” Hazel squeezed her arm with gentle reassurance.

She took his vitals and his respiration wasn’t good. His heartbeat was strong and steady.

“I need oxygen. Can you get that?” she asked Copper.

She returned a few moments later with everything Hazel required to get him the oxygen he needed.

Upon further examination, she realized that his throat had been burned, but hopefully the 17 had been neutralized before it could do any serious damage to his lungs.

It would be a game of wait and see.

The guys returned with the rest of the items on her shopping list and she got him started on an IV drip and bandaged the wounds on his face.

When she was done working on him, she spoke. “I need to do a few more tests. He may need more care than what we can give him here. The night will tell.”