Retribution (SSU Trilogy Book 3) (The Surgical Strike Unit) (20 page)

Kai nodded. “Makes sense to me. Let’s ask Ryker for the go-ahead.”

Chapter 16

G
abby stared at the data on her computer screen. Data that had been pulled from Dr. Nevsky’s microchip. She didn’t have to check her personal notes to confirm that this was the formula for Agent Styx. She had it memorized.

She sucked in a shocked breath and bit her lip. From what she’d been told about Dr. Nevsky’s program, and what she’d heard about the components of the drugs Kaufmann had stolen from his deceased boss, she’d suspected Nevsky of either being directly involved with the development of Agent Styx or having access to the formula. But still, having the connection confirmed tilted her world sideways.

In addition to containing the formula for Agent Styx, this section of notes detailed the progression of the drug’s development. Proving that Nevsky had been the primary researcher involved in creating Agent Styx.

He was responsible for her father’s rages. And for her father’s death.

She couldn’t prove that her parents had been run off the road, but she knew in her heart that they’d been murdered. Killed to silence her father and stop his investigation into Agent Styx. The notes he’d left with the samples had described his search for other victims of Agent Styx and his attempt to locate the men who’d created the fatal chemical.

Too bad Nevsky was dead. She’d like to give him a dose of Kaufmann’s formula. See how he liked being turned into a beast for the sake of science.

She chewed her lip. Nevsky might be dead, but someone had authorized his research. Gabby wanted that person held accountable. In case something happened to her, she needed to share the Agent Styx connection with someone.

Ryker? Right now, he was the only one she’d trust with the information. If anyone could find out who was responsible for letting Nevsky continue his work with Agent Styx, it was her boss. The SSU staff called Ryker a miracle worker, and had plenty of stories to back it up.

Besides, she’d heard that Ryker had served in Vietnam. He might know of the program.

She chewed her bottom lip. Her father had suspected a group of high-level military and intelligence officials in the initial cover-up of the dangers of Agent Styx. She had a list of suspects he’d put together, but she’d failed to crack the code. Not knowing who to trust in government, she’d decided that investigating the suspects was beyond her ability. So she’d devoted herself to mitigating the lingering side effects experienced by vets exposed to Agent Styx.

She shivered. Of course, at the time she’d also believed Agent Styx was no longer being used. If she’d found someone she trusted back then, someone in power who believed her and had been able to crack the code, would an investigation have been started? Was it possible the program could have been stopped before Nevsky further refined the drug?

Under that scenario, Kaufmann would never have gotten his hands on the samples he’d used to create his formula. Rafe would never have been turned into a beast.

And if she was going to dwell on what-ifs and might-have-beens, she might as well climb back into bed for all the use she’d be.

There was no way to know if she could have changed events. No crystal ball to counteract this pinch of fear inside her heart that said maybe she’d played a part in Rafe’s suffering.

Gabby sucked in air, then let it out slowly. There were more important things to worry about than her potential guilt. She had to deal with facts. The reality of today.

Nevsky had continued to use Agent Styx. Even with all of his modifications over the years, he’d still been unable and unwilling to get rid of the primary side effect—murderous rage. He hadn’t sought a cure for the rage because he’d believed that eventually he’d find a formula to allow him to control the rages in his subjects. Order them to unleash their anger only against chosen targets.

He’d come close. Too close.

And then Kaufmann had played with the formula. Gabby shook her head. Several of Kaufmann’s alterations had wiped out years of Nevsky’s progress, resulting in a quicker mental deterioration than with Nevsky’s subjects.

She had to hope and pray that the counteragent she’d created from Nevsky’s notes would bring Rafe’s mind back before it was too late.
She’d lost her father because of Agent Styx. She would
not
lose Rafe because Kaufmann had continued Nevsky’s work.

Chapter 17

One Week Later

SSU Laboratories

Georgia

R
afe glanced at the chart on the wall, then the clock. Yes, the time matched the symbol next to the woman’s picture. One of the nice doctors had created the chart for him. She had a soft voice and calming eyes. But not as soothing as his woman. Gabby.

A doctor.

That had scared him, at first. But not now. He’d learned that the doctors here didn’t yell at him to kill. They didn’t punish him with pain. They poked and prodded and took their samples, but then the discomfort was over.

And Gabby said each sample helped her. Rafe wanted to help Gabby. Partly because he wanted to get better. To get his mind back. But mostly because making Gabby happy made him feel warm inside.

He picked up the little stuffed bear with the bright red heart on it. He didn’t remember much of Before. Mostly just bright fragments of color and sound, gone before they made sense. He’d seen flashes of the bear in those brief images. The bear, and Gabby. Always Gabby.

He bent his head and pressed his forehead to the bear’s soft fur. The presence of Before was a constant pressure against the barrier in his mind. The barrier created by the bad doctors. Sometimes the pressure to remember Before built up until it became so strong, he thought he’d burst.

That was when he lost control and broke things until the pressure eased and he could breathe again.

Tonight, though, the pressure was small. Holding the bear helped. Knowing it belonged to Gabby soothed him and kept him from getting too angry when she had to leave him alone. But nothing made him feel safe like seeing her for himself.

He checked the clock again and paced restlessly around the room, impatient for the chime to signal that she was on the other side of the glass. Waited for the sweet smell that would announce her arrival, even though the glass prevented him from smelling her skin.

The room was silent except for the sound of his breathing and the scrape of his feet on the carpet. The people who watched him had brought him music and shown him how to work the player, but the sounds only increased the pressure in his head. Made him angrier because he couldn’t remember what he had been or what had been important to him.

The white coats with their instruments of pain had destroyed him.

Rafe fought to keep the rage from growing. It would scare Gabby if he lost control and he wouldn’t be able to stand it if he hurt her again.

The sweet scent he didn’t know the name of tickled his nose. He inhaled and looked toward the drapes. The chime sounded and the heavy fabric opened, revealing Gabby on the other side.

Rafe’s anger and frustration melted away. He couldn’t name what he felt when he saw her. All he knew was that the promise of seeing Gabby eased him through his days.

“Hi Rafe.” Her voice came through the speaker, filling him with warmth. “How are you tonight?”

“I. Am. O-kay, Gab-by.” He’d worked hard to learn this response to her question. Speaking the words in his head was a struggle. They never came out of his mouth the way he wanted. Yet Gabby rewarded him with a smile.

He moved up to the glass and pressed his hand against it, as he always did. She matched her hand to his.

Rafe frowned. He usually liked this moment. Liked the way it made him feel connected to her. But tonight it wasn’t enough. He felt some of the frustration sneak back.

For a long time he stared at their hands, then he lifted his eyes to search her face. She didn’t look happy and it stirred some strong emotion he didn’t recognize.

“Gab-by sad?”

Her smile wasn’t as bright as usual. She hesitated and he sensed a lie coming, but then she shook her head. “I’m just tired, and frustrated that I haven’t been able to make better progress at curing you.”

Her words made her sadness sound simple, but there were tears in her eyes.

He wanted to wipe her tears away, but when he tried to reach out, the window stopped him. Frustrated, he banged against the glass.

She stepped back.

No. He didn’t want her to go! He made a sound of protest. “No sad, Gab-by. Rafe help.” His name sounded strange coming out of his mouth.

He looked toward his door, then back to the window. Door. Window. “Gab-by come.” He stabbed his thumb against his chest. “Rafe help Gab-by no sad.” He pulled the bear from his pocket. “Bear help Gab-by no sad.”

He waited. Not knowing if he’d said the words right. Only knowing that he wanted to touch her. To wipe her tears away and put his arms around her. The instinct to soothe was so powerful, he nearly shook with it.

If only he could touch her, all would be right. But first she had to trust him.

She glanced over to the door. “Rafe, if I come inside, will I be safe?”

He wanted to tell her he would never hurt her. Never.

But he
had
hurt her. Because the voices had been in his head. “No voices,” he insisted, tapping his forehead. He didn’t know how to explain that the voices ordering him to kill, the voices that caused pain inside his head, those voices now turned silent whenever she was near.

“Gab-by safe.”

He met her eyes. He was desperate to touch her, to make her sadness go away, but he was afraid she was too frightened of him. “No scared, Gab-by. No hurt.”

She searched his eyes, then gave a strange half smile. “In for a penny, in for a pound,” she said. “Let’s do it.”

She walked over to the door.

Rafe’s heart started a wild beat. She trusted him!

Trusted. Him.

The door slid open. She stepped inside.

“Rafe.” Her voice wobbled and her smile trembled. A tear tracked down her cheek. “I miss you so much,” she murmured.

Rafe took a step forward. His vision swam. Another step and he was in front of her. Close enough to smell her sweet scent. To reach out with shaking fingers to brush her tears away.

And Gabby let him touch her. Without flinching. Accepting his comfort.

He handed her the bear and was rewarded with a watery smile. Memories flooded through him. Gabby stroking the bear’s fur and looking as sad as she did right now. Gabby crying against his chest. Gabby yelling at him. Gabby with her mouth against his.

Rafe swayed as emotion followed the pictures in his head. Gabby reached out to steady him but his weight was too much for her and he ended up on his knees, his face pressed against the softness of her belly, his arms around her hips.

“Gab—” His vocal chords strained to form the word against a clot of emotion in his throat. “Gab-by. Re-mem-ber. You.”

He cried like a little boy, his whole body shaking with his sobs. His arms tightened, pulling her close. Gabby. His lifeline.

But it wasn’t long before happy memories of Gabby were replaced by painful visions of captivity. Of
things the white coats had made him do despite his fighting them with every ounce of willpower he possessed. There, on his knees, Rafe nearly drowned in remembered shame, fear and pain.

“Shh. Rafe, it’s okay.” Gabby’s hands stroked his hair, the soothing motion quieting some of the chaos brought by the memories. “You’re safe. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. We’re going to help you. You’re going to get better.”

For the first time since he woke up in this room, Rafe felt soul-draining relief. Finally, he truly accepted that he was safe. Gabby was real. Her promises were real. This wasn’t another trick to force him to bow to the will of the white coats. This was safety and comfort that wouldn’t be yanked away.

Gradually his tears stopped. He continued to hold her, pressing his cheek tightly to her belly, even as his mind shut down, going into a sort of stupor.

“Hey, Rafe. Don’t fall asleep on me. Let’s get you to bed, okay?”

Gabby’s hands nudged him up, so he stood. But he didn’t want to let go of her. He kept hold of her hand, and with his other he smoothed her hair back from her face. He stared into hazel eyes damp with tears, but holding such love, he felt warmed to his core.

He traced his finger over her face. Her eyebrows. Nose. Mouth. Cheeks. Brushed away the tears that continued to fall.

Then gave in to an overwhelming instinct. He leaned forward and touched his lips to hers.

Her softness fascinated him. He pressed harder. She made a startled sound deep in her throat and he pulled back. Her eyes shone through new tears. He searched her face for some acknowledgement instinct insisted would be there.

She stepped back. When he reached for her, wanting more of her lips, or at least to hold her, she put up her hand.

“No, Rafe.”

Rafe froze. What had he done wrong? “Rafe bad?”

Gabby shook her head. “It’s not that.” She hugged her arms across her chest. “Rafe, I’m a doctor and right now you’re my patient first, my…friend…second. No kissing, okay? Not until you’re all better. No hugging, either. We need to keep a professional distance. Do you understand?”

He was supposed to agree with her. It was how they’d trained him. Listen and obey.

But his soul protested. And this time he was free to express what he wanted. “No. Want kiss Gab-by. Want hold Gab-by. Want make Gab-by smile.” He nodded his head for emphasis and drilled into her with his eyes. Tried to force her to agree to his demand, like the doctors used to do with him.

The corner of Gabby’s mouth quirked up and he felt a spurt of satisfaction. But then she spoke and her words made him angry.

“Rafe, we can’t break the rules. I need to have the respect of my team members when I make decisions regarding your treatment. They won’t give me that respect if they think my heart is leading me.”

Rafe didn’t fully understand what she was saying. But he knew for certain she was trying to deny him. He took a step forward and touched his fingers to her lips. “Gab-by wrong. Rafe right.”