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

Rafe paced along the bank of a small stream, wishing he had his boxing gloves. The thought of Nate going through such a program made him want to hit something. The fact that Rafe felt attracted to one of the scientists involved in such horrific experiments made him sick.

Between the reports of men from this facility going on murderous rampages and Willits’s description of the state of the dead men in the back of the truck, Rafe suspected Ryker’s conclusion about Kaufmann was correct, and this lab was based on Nevsky’s research.

“Could Kaufmann have found Nevsky’s microchip?” Rafe asked.

Kai had been undercover at the lab when Dr. Nevsky killed himself by triggering the self-destruct feature. All of Nevsky’s work had been destroyed, except for the notes he’d encoded on a microchip and hidden away in an undisclosed location.

“No,” Ryker said. “Kai said Nevsky was too paranoid. He didn’t even trust Kaufmann with the chip. Kaufmann must have smuggled out his own copy of the notes.”

“Shit.” Kai had been searching for Nevsky’s microchip for over two years now, racing to make sure it wasn’t found by a terrorist or criminal organization. Once Kai recovered from the malaria, he was heading out to follow a strong lead regarding the chip’s location.

But if the news got out that another superhuman program was up and running, the key players would shift their attention from the chip to the live data. The SSU needed to shut down this facility before word got out about its existence. “Whether this is really Kaufmann or not, they’re using the missing service personnel in their experiments,” Rafe informed his boss. “I believe they’re holding Nate in the underground section of the lab.”

Rafe paused. “I’m not leaving without him.”

There was a long moment of silence. Rafe knew the situation had escalated far beyond just a simple locate and rescue, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t risking Nate becoming another cremated body.

“I assume you have a plan on how to get inside,” Ryker said.

Rafe glanced at his watch, then ran through his options. He still had several hours of darkness left. “Yeah. Here’s what we’re going to do…”

Chapter 3

“W
ake up.”

The command in the unfamiliar male voice jerked Gabby out of a sound sleep. Her eyes flew open and her lips parted, but cotton cloth clogged her mouth, blocking her scream. The faint light from the clock radio outlined the shape of a man’s head and gave the whites of his eyes a greenish cast.

Terror shot through her. Oh, God. Her heart thundered in her chest until she thought it must be loud enough to wake the entire state. She attempted to sit up, to strike out, but her hands were tied in front of her. She tried to yank them apart, but the tight rope didn’t give.

Why had she even allowed herself to sleep? The plan was for her to sneak out at one thirty in the morning and hide in the woods. At that time the chemicals she’d mixed earlier would reach their peak potency and explode in her lab. Laurel and her guard buddy would free the subjects in the lower lab, load them into the back of one of the cargo trucks, then swing by to pick Gabby up.

After turning out the light at her usual bedtime, Gabby had stretched out on her bed to wait until it was time to meet Laurel. B
ut sleep had snuck up on her.

Had Dr. Kaufmann discovered their plan? Was this man one of the guards come to take her back to the lab, where Kaufmann would fulfill his threat to turn Gabby over to his subjects?

A fresh burst of terror broke through her paralysis. She bent her knees and pushed with her feet, trying to make like an inchworm and move closer to the opposite end of the bed.

The man put his hand on her shoulder and held her in place.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” he said, his voice little more than a hoarse whisper.

We’re?
oh, God, there was more than one man in the room with her?

She twisted away from the man. With one more shove of her feet, she toppled off the other side of the bed. She’d no sooner landed on the floor, though, than large hands reached down and picked her up, setting her back on the bed.

“Like the boss said,” whispered a new voice. “We aren’t gonna hurt you, lady. Just calm down and listen.”

Calm down? She didn’t—

The first man put his hand on her throat, using just enough pressure to let her know he could crush her windpipe if he chose. She couldn’t stop herself from swallowing nervously, wincing as the muscles of her throat tried to move beneath the constriction of his hand.

The bed coverings moved as the man shifted closer. Her breath hitched.

“Easy,” he whispered. “Just relax.” His thumb and index finger began a slow, soothing massage under her jaw and to her utter shock and disgust, she felt her muscles ease.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “As long as you cooperate, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Meaning he’d hurt her if she didn’t cooperate? Her heart rate spiked again.

But he kept up the slow kneading of his fingers and her body responded to his warm, calloused touch. Not just relaxing, but stirring slightly with arousal.

What the
hell
was wrong with her?

“We’re going to remove your gag. If you scream…” He tightened his fingers until she gasped for breath. “Do you understand?”

She nodded.

“Good.” He relaxed his grip and it took every ounce of control for her not to gulp in air. But she’d be damned if she’d give him that satisfaction.

The other man’s fingers swiftly found the knot on her gag and loosened it. She spat out the cotton and inhaled deeply.

“We cool?” the man asked, tightening his grip on her throat in warning.

Her mouth was too dry to talk, so Gabby merely nodded again.

“I want you to tell me where in the lab this man is being held.” A penlight turned on. She winced, turning her head away until her eyes adjusted to the brightness. Then she glanced at the photo in front of her.

It showed a tall, muscular man with ebony skin, wearing military fatigues and a troublemaker’s grin. She worked some moisture into her mouth. “I’ve never seen him before.”

The fingers pressed down on her throat. “Wrong answer.”

“I swear! I’ve never seen him before.”

“Don’t lie to me.” There was a hint of violence in the voice now, along with greater pressure on her throat. “We tracked him here. We know he’s inside the compound. He’s not in the upper level, so he must be downstairs, where you work.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But even to her own ears, her protest sounded false.

D
r. Montague was hiding something. Rafe pressed a little harder on the fragile throat beneath his hand. He hadn’t missed the way her pulse had kicked just now. Or the extra layer of wariness in her eyes.

Damn, but he wished they had full light. He wanted to see the color of her eyes. He thought they were hazel, but he couldn’t be sure. What he could say for certain was that she was much more fragile in person than she’d appeared tonight when she’d stumbled leaving the compound. Her body shook continuously with tiny shudders he didn’t think she was even aware of, and her wrists when he’d bound them had been little more than taut skin over bone. Part of him wanted to gather her in his arms and comfort her. To take away her fear.

Thinking back to the photos of the dead men in the truck, Rafe reminded himself that she didn’t deserve his compassion. Her weakness just meant she’d be easy to break. And if his conscience cringed at the thought, he ignored it. He’d do whatever necessary to find Nate.

“Inside where?” Dr. Montague asked. “The compound houses our labs and a few other rooms, none of which are occupied.” She nodded at the picture of Nate. “I’ve certainly never seen him around the property. Is he one of the guards? Are you?”

Her pulse leapt again under his hands. Interesting. So, she didn’t like the idea of him being part of the security team? He leaned in closer, so close he could smell her warm, womanly scent underneath the institutional soap and shampoo. “What are you hiding that you don’t want the guards to know?” he demanded. “That had you lying on top of the covers, fully dressed, with your shoes on?”

Her pulse went wild, and he knew he had her.

She didn’t give in, though. Either she was unaware that his hand on her throat gave him a guideline to the pulse of her emotions, or she had more courage than he’d given her credit for. She kept her mouth shut, her eyes watching him like a mouse waiting for the snake to strike.

“What are you hiding?” he repeated, tightening his grip on her throat.

She shook her head. “Nothing.” But her pulse gave her away.

“Depaoli,” Rafe called softly. “Do a more thorough search of these rooms.” The cabin was more sparse than a military barracks. The living room held a couch, a coffee table and a small television on a stand. No bookcases. No extra chairs. Bare walls.

The bedroom was just large enough to hold the twin bed and dresser. Not many hiding places, but his gut still insisted she had something here she didn’t want found. “You must have missed something the last time,” Rafe told Depaoli.

Her breath hitched and her eyelids slammed shut. Her upper teeth captured her lower lip and started gnawing on it.

“Oh, no you don’t, sweetheart. Keep those eyes open. I want you to look at this photo again.” He put enough pressure on her throat to have her gaze flying to meet his. He saw resentment vying equally with fear and had to admire her backbone.

She flicked a glance at the photo. “I’ve still never seen him.”

Oh yeah, there was no mistaking the aggravation behind that almost snarl. He had to clamp his teeth together to stop himself from grinning at her spunk.

Unfortunately, he believed her. She hadn’t seen Nate. “Okay. If you don’t know where he is, then tell me how to get access to the lower level of the lab. The place where the trucks come and go.”

He felt her stiffen.

“Wha-what do you mean? Our labs take up only one level.”

“Wrong answer and you know it. We saw you with your friend on her cigarette break. You definitely came out of a door underneath the upper labs.” Rafe motioned to Willits. “Show her the photos you took.”

The slight hesitation before Willits pulled out his phone was a sure sign he disapproved of Rafe’s order. Tough. They were running out of night. He needed Dr. Montague’s cooperation so they had enough time to break into the other part of the lab before daylight.

The first photo came up on the phone’s screen. The back of the truck had been dark, so the only illumination came from Willits’s phone, but the image of the dead man’s face clearly showed dried blood at the eyes, nose, and mouth.

“Maybe you recognize this man instead?”

G
abby gasped. Du Braise. Dead, with dried blood at his nose, mouth, and ears. She’d seen him alive this afternoon being escorted back to his cell. Du Braise had been maddened to the point of insanity, but otherwise healthy. What had happened in the few hours since she’d seen him?

“Where did you get this?” Her voice trembled and she hoped they thought it was anger, not fear. She hated the idea of showing fear.

“You know this man.” The voice was hard. Uncompromising.

Damn it. Maybe she should have hidden her reaction. Too late now. “Who are you? What’s going on? You’re not part of the lab’s security team, are you?”

The man let the silence stretch on. Gabby was acutely aware of the heavy pressure of his hand against her throat. She wondered if he was aware that his fingers were stroking her throat again, sending tiny little currents of arousal through her. Dammit. This was wrong. He could kill her in an instant, yet she found his touch erotic?

If she didn’t know better, she’d think she’d been drugged.

“No,” the man finally admitted. “We’re not security.” He cocked his head toward the other man. “Show her the rest of the photos.”

By the last photo, Gabby couldn’t hold back a whimper. Seven dead men. Two others besides du Braise had been part of the subject pool Dr. Kaufmann had provided to her and the other scientists in the upper labs. Of the seven, she’d only seen du Braise in the lower level, but she had no doubt that’s where they’d all died.

Bile climbed up the back of her throat. She’d… She’d… Had her work contributed to their deaths? She swallowed heavily then shook her head. This wasn’t the time for guilt or recriminations. She had to focus on getting away from these men.

“Where did these photos come from?” she demanded.

The man holding her studied her for several agonizing heartbeats. In the faint light he appeared cut from stone. Cruel. Totally without mercy.

Yet the tips of his fingers caressed her throat so tenderly. The contrast made her dizzy.

“He,” the man nodded to his colleague holding the phone, “took these in the back of a truck that left the underground portion of your lab tonight.”

“Tonight?” Her voice cracked. She needed to know what time it was. God, please don’t let her have slept through the rescue. Gabby craned her neck, but the man’s head blocked the clock’s display.

Or had something gone terribly wrong with their escape plan and this was the result? She looked at the man with the phone. “Explain.”

Phone Man cocked an eyebrow at her command, but obeyed. When he was finished, she lay in stunned silence. She’d known Kaufmann’s program had nasty side effects. But this was far worse. And these men…

“You think I had something to do with that?” Outraged, she tried to sit up. But the man’s hand didn’t release her throat. With a grunt of annoyance, she glared at her captor. “Let me up, damn you. I refuse to let you accuse me while I’m flat on my back.”

The man’s mouth twitched and for an instant his fingers tightened, but to her surprise he released her. He even helped her sit up, then cut the ropes binding her.

Narrowing her eyes at her captor as she rubbed feeling back into her wrists, she tried to ignore the chill at her throat now that his warm hand wasn’t touching her.

“You’re afraid the man in that picture is going to end up like the men in the truck. And you think I know what’s going on,” she said. Her hands moved of their own will, shoving the man in the chest hard enough to make him grunt in annoyance.