Jordan Summers - [Dead World 01] (26 page)

I furrow my brow. "How odd. Who would do such a
thing?"

"I know. It's crazy." She shook her head
unable to comprehend the larger picture.

I pull her close and hug her in a faux attempt to
comfort her. "I'm sure there'll be a rational explanation for it in the
end. I doubt very much that a lunatic is on the loose in the emergency care
center."

She nodded in agreement, then stepped out of my
embrace. "You're probably right, but I won't feel better until I find out
what it is."

"Me either. I daresay I
probably won't sleep a wink
after what
I've witnessed this evening."

"Are you sure about the sheriff?" she asked,
glancing at Jesse. Concern marred her expression.

"Positive." My gaze trails from her head
down to her toes and back again. "It'll wait until morning."

I gently brush the hair away from Jesse's face. The
nurse beside me smiles at the display of tenderness. I decide to make a show of
it. I blink rapidly as if trying to fight back the tears. "How could
someone do this to a woman so beloved?" I ask.

She grasps my arm, her eyes filling with unshed
moisture. "She'll be okay. I know she will."

I squeeze her hand, then lean down until my nose
touches Jesse's ear. The move is intimate. "Can you give us a
moment?" I ask in order to ensure our privacy.

"Yes, of course." The nurse walks over to
the door
and steps into the hall. I wait
for her to close it behind
her. A soft snick pierces the silence and joy
fills my heart.

"Next time," I whisper, so Jesse can hear
me.

A lone tear slides down her cheek. I reach out and
catch it with the tip of my finger before it hits the pillow and bring it to my
lips. It's salty, much like her personality. Too bad she's become a liability.

I pull away and call out to the nurse.

She enters the room expectantly. "Is there anything
else I can do?"

So obedient, so enthusiastic, she will make a per
fect addition to my pack. It's unfortunate she's
already
marked. Luckily, there are ways around such things. "Make
sure Jesse's not disturbed. We wouldn't want anything to happen to our only
witness."

chapter
fifteen

Mike Travers stared at the synth-document in
his hands and blinked,
unable to believe what
he'd just read. The cooling system hummed ' in the
background as it attempted to pump air into the antiquated building. It failed.

He loosened his tie. Mike glanced around the room to
ensure his privacy, then reread it, his eyes greedy for the information stored
on the forbidden pages.

Shock spread through him once again. It wasn't the
news that the IPTT agent in Nuria was Gina
Santiago,
or that her grandfather was the commander, Robert Santiago,
that held him spellbound. No, it was what he'd found when he hacked into the
sealed records at IPTT itself.

For years rumors existed that an Other and a
pure-blood human had successfully bred, producing a hybrid offspring. He'd
dismissed the information like everyone else after the government warned of
potential health hazards accompanying such unions.

Back then, when you showed too much interest in the
Others, it was grounds for imprisonment. The governing body could hold you for
as long as they liked and no one could do a thing about it.

Luckily, those barbaric days had ended, but the hate
still remained, hidden stealthily out of the way in wait of the unsuspecting.

He read the report again, his fingers shaking with the
effort to remain calm. Her father, Marcus, had been killed in a car accident.
He'd died of a broken neck, according to the public report, when she was young.

After further digging, Mike
found evidence that in
vestigators
suspected homicide, but no one had been
willing
to put his career on the line to prove it. An all
too common practice
after the war.

Gina's sister and mother hadn't been so fortunate.
Whoever murdered them hadn't bothered to hide it. The scene resembled a
slaughterhouse. The women had been killed and dismembered like chattel. The
people behind the hit probably thought they'd eliminated the threat. Little
did they know.

Robert Santiago and his granddaughter, Gina, had
discovered the scene. He'd taken her away shortly thereafter and changed her
last name to match his
own. Mike shook his
head in amazement. The old man
had
managed to protect her all these years without a
single soul catching
on.

Elation filled him until he glanced at the screen's
blinking cursor. Deflated, Mike sat back. Roark Montgomery was expecting a full
report from him. If
he presented too little
information, the bastard would
become suspicious. If he gave him a full
report, then he wouldn't have any ammunition for later. That just wouldn't do.

Mike knew all about government
secrets firsthand. Secrets had changed his life, had his entire family an
nihilated, cost him everything he held dear. Yes, he
knew all about the secrets that men kept, but
this one
would be his and his alone. He'd add it to his personal list
and pray that in the end it didn't cost him his life.

Damn, he needed a drink. Bad.

He glanced around his small
office at digital filing Cabinets and the bare walls until he spotted his can
teen. Mike sighed with relief. At least he wasn't
going
have to
slip
out of the building to his car for a
quick
fix.

He bobbed back in his chair and stared across the room.
He didn't feel like getting up from behind his
desk in order to retrieve it, so instead, he raised a fin
ger
and concentrated on bringing the object to him.

The canteen rose, floating
through the air on invisib
le hands, or in
this case, his thoughts. A simple
enough
task that even a child could perform. He should
know, he'd been doing it since he was five. His psychic
ability
was
the main reason he'd been recruited during the war. The canteen dropped onto
the desk in front of
him with a small thud.

"That's better," he said, opening it to take
a swig.
The aroma stung his nostrils,
causing his eyes to wa
ter. This was going to be a very good year. He
could tell without even tasting it.

He lifted the container. The second his lips parted,
the hot blood rushed down his throat, bringing
all his
senses crackling to life. His heart sped and his skin flushed
under the onslaught.

Mike didn't realize how thirsty he'd become. His
ability to go days without feeding had saved his life on more than one
occasion. So had being able to face the sun, a feat almost unheard of in lab
vamps.

Almost...

Today was different though. Mike was thirsty.

He was sitting upon a gold mine of information and he
knew it. The crinkled document in his hand could change the face of the world,
if it leaked to the right sources. It would also in equal measure fuel and
destroy Roark Montgomery's campaign.

Mike grinned, tipping the canteen again, filling his
mouth. He held the coppery substance on his tongue,
savoring the peppery flavor a second before swallow
ing with a
smack of his lips.

"Ahh . .."

He sealed the canteen, then
turned back to the comp-
unit on his desk
and began to type at a furious pace. The tap, tap, tap of the keys effectively
broke the silence. The doctored report he presented to Roark would be detailed
and thorough, but would not include Gina Santiago's little secret.

For now, her secret was safe with him.

Roark Montgomery sat behind his desk,
staring out at the great expanse that made up the
Republic of  Missouri. The woods were all gone, along with the   rivers and
lakes. The only thing left were the vast fields that used to grow crops.

If all went well, he'd soon be
sitting in a luxurious
office on the East
Coast executing his plan to unite what used to be the United States, Canada,
Asia, Africa, South America, and Europe. He swung away from the window and
stared at the documents before him. All of them could wait.

Right now he was only interested
in one document.
His brows drew down.
What was taking Travers so
long? He should've
been able to dig up information on
the IPTT agent in Nuria by now.

Roark hit a button on his desk. 'Travers, I'm still
waiting for that report."

There was a pause. "I have
it now, sir.
I'll
be right
in."

Roark pressed the button again and disconnected the
call. He glanced at the map on the wall, which held all the republics around
the globe. A smile formed on his lips as he leaned back and steepled his
fingers under his chin.

Soon they will all be mine.

It had been Roark's lifelong dream to rebuild the
world in its former image. He'd grown up hearing stories about patriots and
heroes from his father and grandfather. They'd both served in what used to be
the military.

That was why when he was old enough Roark
joined
the
IPTT. He'd excelled in the rigorous envi
ronment. It had made a man out
of him, which was why it goaded Roark to no end that Commander Robert Santiago
refused to back his campaign. With IPTT backing, he'd win by a landslide.

Stubborn old bastard.

The door opened a moment later and Mike Travers
entered with a fist full of documents. "Here are the reports you asked
for, sir," he said, handing them to Roark, then glancing away.

Roark's eyes narrowed. What was he up to? First
insubordination, now evasion. He didn't like this
sud
den turnaround in his assistant.
Roark let it go for now
and looked down at the reports in his hands.

He scanned the documents quickly. His gaze shot
to Travers when it reached the name of the agent
in
Nuria.

"Is this correct?" he asked, excitement
filling his voice. "Is it really Robert Santiago's granddaughter down
there poking around?"
Could he be that lucky?

"Yes, sir."

"Is it an IPTT-sanctioned visit?"

Travers shook his head. "No, sir. From what I
could ascertain, she is there in an unofficial
capacity."

"Is she checking out the boundary fence?"

Travers frowned. "No, she seems to be following
up on an animal attack."

Roark smiled to himself. This
was perfect. Exactly
what he needed to
gain the IPTT's support.

"How long is she planning to stay?" he
asked. watching Travers' expression closely.

"That's the odd part. According to the documents
I was able to uncover, she should've been back by now."

Roark did grin then. "I wonder what's keeping
her." Had his man gotten to her already? If so, that
was quick. Not that he cared. She simply was a
pawn
to be used and discarded. He needed to get in touch with his
contact in Nuria to find out what was going on. His patience was wearing thin.
Roark no longer wanted her managed. That would've been fine for a lone female
team member, but not Robert Santiago's granddaughter. No, Gina Santiago
deserved special treatment.

Her death would bring the IPTT into line faster than
anything else Roark could come up with. She was young enough to cause outrage.
He could blame
her demise on the Others and
kill
two birds with one
stone as the ancient
saying went. His election would be a foregone conclusion.

Roark glanced up from his
thoughts and spied Tra
vel's. He'd
completely forgotten about the man's presence. He supposed he should compliment
him for a job well done, but he didn't want to give Mike any misguided hope
that he had a future with him.

"That will be all, Travers. Next time don't take
so long."

Mike gave a slight bow.
"Yes, sir. It won't happen
again." He turned on his heel and exited, leaving
Roark
with his thoughts.

He glanced at the private comdevice. His contact had
been furious the last time he'd called, but it had
been an emergency, much like now. He'd have to risk
his wrath,
not that Roark was concerned since he planned on having Travers execute the man
once the election was ensured.

He had to call. Roark needed to
give the man new orders. Only then, would he breathe easier. He picked
up the comlink and slipped it onto his ear and began
to enter a sequence of numbers.

The line crackled, then slowly cleared. Roark waited,
his heart pounding in his ears. His stomach twisted as he realized what he was
about to do. The connection snapped into place with a pop.