Her Rogue Alpha (X-Ops Book 5) (6 page)

“Foley, stop!” she shouted. “That van is full of weapons. You hit something sensitive and you’re going to turn the neighborhood into a combat zone.”

“I know that!” Foley ground out. “But we’re pinned down and those weapons are getting away. If we can’t stop them, you’re going to have to do it.”

Layla expected Clayne to countermand the order as lead agent on the mission, but he didn’t say anything. Maybe he hadn’t heard Foley.

“Clayne, did you copy that?” she called. “Foley and Hightower are pinned down and want me to go after the van full of weapons. Do you copy?”

“Layla, you gotta go now!” Hightower shouted. “We’re okay here. You can’t let those weapons get away.”

She was up and out of the operations truck before Hightower even finished. Clayne would probably make sure she never went on another mission as long as she lived, but if this was the only one she ever got on, she was going to do it right.

She thanked God that whoever was driving the van had decided to escape out the west side of the building. If he’d gone the other way, she would have had to run all the way around the building. She would never have caught up to them, shifter or not. As it was, the white van was already out of the alley and pulling onto Ingram Street. Fortunately, the van couldn’t accelerate very quickly with all those weapons in the back.

Layla ignored the people on the street staring at her and ran faster. It wasn’t until then that she realized she didn’t have a plan for what she was going to do when she caught up to them. Stopping a moving van while on foot hadn’t been part of her field training.

She had her 9mm SIG Sauer, but she’d just berated Foley for shooting at a vehicle full of weapons. Besides, she wasn’t sure she could aim very straight while running flat-out like she was.

Heart pounding, she sprinted around to the driver’s side door. As she gripped the handle and wrenched it open, she realized her claws were out. Crap, she hadn’t even felt them extend.

It was hard to keep pace with the van, but she managed it as she grabbed the surprised driver by the scruff of the neck and yanked hard, tossing him out of his seat and onto the road.

The van immediately swerved into oncoming traffic. Layla quickly hopped in and got control of the wheel just as the guy in the passenger seat finally figured out what the hell was going on. She stomped on the brakes as he pulled his gun, making him fly forward. His head bounced off the windshield, then he slammed back into the seat, leaving him unconscious.

Pulse racing, Layla pulled the van over to the side of the road. Okay, that had been way more intense than any training scenario.

She was just climbing out as the sound of sirens reached her ears. She glanced at the guy in the passenger seat to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere for a while, then looked around for the one she’d tossed out. From the way several people two blocks down Ingram Street were looking underneath a pricey-looking four-door BMW, she guessed that guy wasn’t going anywhere either.

Layla bit her lip, not sure what to do. The sirens were getting closer. Did she stay at the scene or not? Unfortunately, this situation hadn’t exactly come up in her training, and they sure as heck hadn’t talked about it during the mission briefing Clayne had conducted.

The pounding of running footsteps interrupted her musings, and she spun around to find Danica coming her way. Relief coursed through her. She’d never been so happy to see anyone in her life.

“I know I was supposed to stay in the truck, but they were getting away with the missiles,” Layla said quickly.

Danica waved her off as she caught her breath. “Don’t worry about it. The situation changed and you did the right thing. Outstanding job catching these guys.”

Layla smiled, relieved. “Thanks.”

She was about to ask Danica if she and Clayne had apprehended the arms dealer, but right then, three police cars weaved their way through the crush of vehicles crowding the street and stopped in front of them.

Crap
.

“What do we do?” Layla asked.

Danica reached into her pocket and pulled out her Department of Homeland Security badge. “Follow my lead. And try to lie as convincingly as you can.”

“You can’t just go barging in there. I need to announce you!”

Jayson ignored Dick’s secretary, walking past her and pushing open the deputy director’s big oak door. He hated to blow her off like that, but he wasn’t feeling very polite right now.

“Were you serious about what you said?” he demanded as he came to a stop in front of Dick’s desk.

The deputy director looked up from whatever he was writing on the notepad in front of him as if just realizing Jayson was there.
Right
. Like he hadn’t heard the fuss his secretary had made.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Coleman. He just blazed right past me.” The plump, blond woman gave him a disdainful glare. “I tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“That’s okay, Phyllis.” Dick gave her a nod. “I’ll take it from here. Close the door as you leave, please.”

Phyllis gave Jayson another scathing look, then turned and walked out, closing the door behind her.

“Was I serious about what?” Dick asked, a trace of irritation in his voice.

“Were you serious when you said that if I take your new drug, and it works, you’ll pair me up with Layla?”

Dick sat back in his chair, his expression changing to something between curious and appraising. “Once we’re able to verify the drug has worked—in some kind of field test—then yes, I’d be open to pairing you and Layla up as a team.”

“Then I want to take the drug,” Jayson said. “Now.”

He expected Dick to ask why the sudden rush, but the deputy only regarded him thoughtfully. “Are you sure, Jayson? This isn’t exactly a situation you can back out of once you’ve started.”

Jayson nodded. “I’m sure.”

Dick considered that for a moment, then nodded. “Let’s go, then.”

Getting up from his chair, the deputy director headed for the door. Jayson took a deep breath and followed. He had to move a little faster than he liked to keep up with Dick, which made his back twinge and tighten up, but the deputy director didn’t seem to notice, and Jayson refused to show any weakness.

As they left the operations building and walked down the sidewalk to the facility where the DCO conducted their shifter and hybrid research, Jayson’s heart beat faster. He knew this was rash, stupid, and probably insane, but after everything that had happened last night, he didn’t have a choice. No matter what, something had to change. And taking Dick’s hybrid serum would definitely change things, one way or the other.

Last night had been a complete and total disaster. Not only had he been a grade A asshole, but he was also pretty sure he might have destroyed whatever was left of his relationship with Layla.

He should never have brought up Dick and that damn hybrid serum. He’d known Layla wouldn’t be thrilled with him taking a drug that hadn’t been tested on humans, but when she immediately assumed that Dick was
manipulating
him into taking it, something inside him had snapped.

He’d wanted to tell her that he was frightened too, but for different reasons. He was more scared of being a cripple for the rest of his life than he was of Dick’s hybrid serum. He was terrified of her going after dangerous international arms dealers without him and scared of her spending more time with another man—even if it was her DCO partner—than she did with him. Most of all, he was afraid of sitting in a chair, watching his life—and the woman he loved—drift away from him.

But he hadn’t said any of that. Instead, only anger and frustration had come out of his mouth, and before he knew it, Layla was gone, slamming the door on him and their relationship. He’d immediately gone after her, but by the time he’d gotten to the door, her phone had rung. He couldn’t hear everything she said, but he’d heard enough to know her mission was a go.

He’d spent the whole night sitting in his living room berating the hell out of himself and waiting for the phone to ring. It hadn’t.

It wasn’t until the sun peeked through the windows that morning that everything became crystal clear to him. One miserable night was all it took to illuminate very clearly that he was never going to be the kind of man who could sit at home and wait patiently for his significant other to come back safely. One night of not knowing and he was ready to explode.

Now he finally realized why none of the relationships he’d tried to have while he was in Special Forces had survived a single deployment. Some people simply couldn’t deal with the stress of knowing the person they cared about was in danger on the other side of the world. Last night, he’d figured out he was one of those people. If Layla was going to be out there, he had to find a way to be with her. If that meant taking Dick’s serum, then so be it. Because living like this wasn’t even an option.

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t realize they’d reached the lab until the familiar medicinal stench smacked him back into awareness. That’s when he saw the DCO’s resident hybrid expert, Dr. Zarina Sokolov, standing there with a guarded expression on her face.

“Is there something I can help you with?” Zarina asked Dick in a Russian accent that could be icy cold when she wanted—like now.

Dick didn’t seem to notice that the temperature in the room had dropped a few degrees. “I need you to get Jayson ready for the hybrid serum protocol.”

Zarina lifted a brow. “I wasn’t aware the DCO’s hybrid serum protocol was ready yet.”

Dick smiled. “I guess no one told you, then. There have been a few breakthroughs in the past couple weeks. I’d appreciate it if you got Jayson ready. I’d like to start as soon as the doctors arrive with the serum.”

Zarina’s blue eyes darted to Jayson, then back to Dick. “And the serum is safe?”

“I’d never let any of our people take a drug that wasn’t completely safe,” Dick said. “Now, if that’s all, I need to make a phone call.”

Dick gave Jayson a nod, then walked out of the lab, leaving him alone with the Russian doctor.

“Jayson, this is insane. You shouldn’t be agreeing to this. You’ve seen what this serum can do to people.” she said.

Jayson had to admit, he was a little concerned that the one person who probably knew more about hybrids than anyone in the world wasn’t involved in the development of this latest serum—concerned, but not enough to make him reconsider his decision.

“I know what the risks are,” he said. “I’m willing to accept them.”

She regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, then gestured to one of the examination tables. “Let’s get you ready then. I’ll need you to take off your shirt and climb up there.”

He hesitated, not liking the idea of Zarina—or anyone—seeing his scars. “I thought I was just going to get an injection?”

“You will be getting an injection, probably more than one. I need your shirt off so I can attach the EKG and use the defibrillator on you if your heart stops beating. It will also make it easier to get adrenaline or epinephrine into you quickly if necessary.”

None of that sounded very good, but then again, neither did living his life as a cripple. So he pushed those thoughts out of his head and shrugged out of his shirt as Zarina walked over to the built-in cabinets along the wall. He tossed the garment on the back of a nearby chair and climbed onto the exam table, flinching as his injured muscles quivered in complaint when he lay back on the cold paper.

Zarina closed the drawer she’d been rustling around in, then turned toward him, a big syringe in one hand and a vial in the other. Without a word, she shoved the needle in the top of the bottle and pulled out the plunger, filling the syringe with the thick, yellowish liquid. When she was done, she set down the empty vial, then picked up a gauze pad from the counter and walked over to him.

“What is that?” he asked.

She swabbed his left bicep with the alcohol wipe. “Gamma globulin. It’s to boost your immune system and help your body handle the stress of taking the serum.”

She shoved the needle in his arm and pushed in the plunger. He inhaled sharply. Damn, it felt like she was injecting him with a Jell-O shot made out of battery acid.

“That kind of burns, Doc,” he said with a laugh.

Zarina pinned him with a look as she pulled out the needle and massaged the area with her fingers. “The hybrid serum will be much worse.”

She walked back over to the counter without waiting for a reply. Jayson snorted. She must have been absent from medical school the day they taught bedside manner.

It turned out that Zarina had a better bedside manner than Jayson had given her credit for, at least compared to the two doctors who came in with Dick thirty minutes later. They ignored Jayson as if he weren’t there, instead asking Zarina a few medical questions that he really didn’t understand before finally nodding at Dick.

“Are you ready?” Dick asked.

Was that excitement in Dick’s voice? Jayson had to admit, right then, there was a part of him that wondered if Layla was right about the deputy director using him. But as Dick leaned over the table, his gray eyes full of concern, it was hard not thinking the man genuinely cared about him.

“I’m ready,” Jayson told him.

Standing behind Dick, Zarina looked uneasy. Knowing she was worried only made Jayson worry too, so instead he focused his gaze on the high ceiling. The two doctors approached the table, one on either side. A moment later, he felt each of them shove a needle deep into the muscles of his biceps.

At first, he didn’t feel anything besides the pain that came with getting stuck by syringes. Maybe Zarina had been messing with him about the serum being worse than the yellow goo she’d pumped into him.

That’s when the burning started—first in his arms, then all over. Within seconds, the fire spread through his entire body. He gripped the edges of the table.
Shit
. Maybe this was going to kill him.

He closed his eyes and forced himself to take slow, deep breaths. That helped for a little while. At least until the muscle spasms started. The pain was excruciating then. But it was nothing compared to how much it hurt thinking he might not ever see Layla again or have the chance to be her partner—they would have been awesome together.

He felt someone grab his left hand and squeeze tightly. He opened his eyes to see Zarina standing beside the exam table, concern on her face. On his right, Dick grabbed his other hand.

Jayson wasn’t sure how long the pain lasted, but at some point, it began to recede—slowly at first, then faster as the minutes—or was it hours?—ticked by.

Through the fog surrounding him, he heard the doctors talking to each other about the readings displayed on the various pieces of medical equipment hooked up to him and comparing notes about his reaction to the serum.

As the pain finally disappeared completely, he looked over to see Zarina still holding his hand. Dick was on the far side of the room, a cell phone up to his ear. Jayson heard him saying something about the first phase of the test being very successful.

Jayson was so focused on what Dick was saying that he didn’t realize Zarina had released his hand until one of the doctors who’d administered the serum came up and began poking and prodding him like he was a piece of pizza dough.

“It’s been two hours and the results seem nominal so far,” the man said to Dick as the deputy director hung up the phone. “We need to move on to phase two and get him into a field environment as soon as possible. It’s the only way we’ll know for sure whether the serum worked.”

The doctor didn’t even look at Jayson as he spoke. Why should he? To them, he was just a two-legged lab rat. A rat they anxiously wanted to get into the field in order to evaluate the success of their experiment. Normally, that kind of dismissive, condescending bullshit would have pissed Jayson off. But right then, he’d have liked nothing better than to go into the field. And he knew exactly where he should go—to meet up with Layla.

* * *

“I never thought we’d get in here so easily,” Ivy whispered to Landon as a member of Thomas Thorn’s security staff led them up the marble stairs to the third floor of the former senator’s home.

“No kidding,” Landon muttered. “Though I have to admit, coming in through the front door almost seems like cheating.”

On the way up the steps, she and Landon passed several plain clothes detectives, two uniformed police officers, and three crime scene techs. None of them looked happy to be there. From what John said when he’d called, Thomas Thorn was royally pissed that someone had waltzed into his heavily secured home while he’d been there and made off with a family heirloom.

When they reached the third floor, the guard led them to a room at the end of the hallway. Thorn and his head of security, Douglas Frasier, were over by the far wall near a big picture frame that had been swung back on a hinge to reveal an open safe. A tall, dark-haired man in jeans and a leather jacket who exuded pure cop stood near the big window, and from the way he was clenching his jaw, he was obviously angry about something. He wasn’t the only one. Ivy could practically hear Thorn’s teeth grind together as he took in the empty safe. As for his paid muscle, Frasier looked like he was waiting for a live chicken to walk by so he could bite off its head.

The detective frowned when he saw her and Landon. “This is a crime scene. I’m going to need you to step outside.”

“That’s not necessary, Detective. I asked them to join us,” Thorn said. “These are Agents Donovan and Halliwell from the Department of Homeland Security. They’re here to help with the investigation.”

Detective Hayes looked like someone had just handed him a lemon to suck. “DHS is working home break-ins these days?”

“This is Detective Braden Hayes,” Thorn said, interrupting before either she or Landon could respond. Probably a good thing, since Landon would have almost certainly said something snarky in response to the sarcastic tone in the detective’s voice. “He handles major robbery for the Washington Metropolitan Police Department. You three will be working together.”

Hayes’s eyes narrowed. “Burglary is a police matter. DHS has no jurisdiction here. Unless you’re trying to tell me that this case has terrorism implications that I don’t see.”

“This isn’t an issue of jurisdiction or terrorism,” Thorn snapped. “This is about someone breaking into my home and stealing something that’s extremely valuable to me. You
will
work together, you
will
find the thief who took my property, and you
will
get back what they took. If you can’t do that, Detective, I can call the MPD brass and have someone else assigned to this case. Is that clear?”