Retribution (SSU Trilogy Book 3) (The Surgical Strike Unit) (7 page)

But before he could act, she withdrew, crossing her arms over her chest. “Apology accepted,” she said quietly, her eyes drifting over the unconscious men. “I suppose I might do violence, too, if one of my friends suffered in such a program.”

Her eyes sought his. Beneath the sorrow and the remnants of fear, he saw the slow burn of anger. Oh yeah. She might seem the cold scientist, but she had fire within her just waiting to be released.

Another of the men began coughing. Gabby threw off his jacket and beat Jurgenson to the man’s side.

Rafe met O’Ryan’s worried eyes and they both shifted closer to Nate. None of the dead men had shown any external symptoms before dying. Had they come all this way only to watch Nate die?

Chapter 7

SSU Compound

Oregon

G
abby pulled crisp mountain air deep into her lungs as she followed the last stretcher off the plane. They’d lost a total of four men during their escape from Kaufmann’s lab. Three died in the back of the truck. One more died after they’d taken off in the small plane sent to meet them at a nearby airport. At some point after the fourth death, Gabby’s energy had deserted her and she’d dozed just long enough to leave her groggy and emotionally vulnerable.

Uneasy over the strange events of the night, Gabby remained tense and wary, keeping an alert eye on the pine forest ringing the landing strip. Ahead of her, silhouetted by the early morning sun, men in civilian clothes pushed stretchers holding the survivors toward a transport truck. The airfield remained quiet except for the squeak of the stretchers’ wheels over the tarmac and the distant call of what she thought was a hawk.

When she reached the truck Gabby averted her eyes, unable to bear watching the body bags being loaded. She didn’t understand why the men’s bodies had failed, and so dramatically. Throughout the trip she’d asked herself what she could have done to save them. Each time the answer had been the same. Nothing.

She couldn’t fight what she didn’t understand. Unfortunately, she also couldn’t shake the suspicion that her research had contributed to the men’s deaths.

She shook her head. No time to worry about that now. Or to wallow in guilt. She had to make certain the same fate didn’t await the survivors.

Particularly not to Rafe’s friend, Nate.

“These men aren’t sane,” she warned the short, muscular man with a stethoscope around his neck who was examining one of the survivors. The doctor looked up at her with compassionate eyes refreshingly different from the brusque medic onboard the truck. “And their physical strength is above normal. Ordinary restraints won’t hold them. Sedate them like you would an elephant. They need—”

“You can finish giving Dr. Smith instructions later,” Rafe interrupted, grabbing her arm. “The director wants to talk to you.”

“But—”

“Now, doctor.” Rafe pulled her away from the truck.

Gabby scowled at him, then turned her head back toward the medical team.

“It’s okay,” Dr. Smith assured her. “We’ll be careful with the men.”

Gabby searched his face and saw nothing but genuine concern. Maybe these really were good people who’d treat the men with the decency they deserved instead of like disposable lab rats.

She nodded and let Rafe guide her across the tarmac.

“What’s the hurry?” she snapped.

“You’ve got information the director needs,” Rafe replied. Then he grinned at her. “And I want a hot shower.”

“Oh, well then,” she answered drily. “Maybe we should run?”

“Nah, we’re almost there.” The glint of laughter in his eye emphasized the difference between Rafe the deadly soldier w
ho’d terrorized her during his mission to rescue Nate, a
nd Rafe the man who flirted as easily as other men breathed. Still reeling from the night’s events, Gabby let Rafe’s good humor surround her, further soothing her overloaded nerves.

Minutes later, Rafe led her through the stained glass door of a stately Victorian mansion. “This is the administration building.”

Gabby gaped. The exterior might be pure 1800s, but although the interior retained the charming molding and scrollwork on the ceiling, it had been modernized into a high-tech office complex complete with palm readers at the doors and security cameras in the corners.

A sharp-eyed young man with auburn hair stepped out from a room to the right of the foyer.

“McDermott, this is Dr. Montague. Director Ryker is waiting for her.”

“Yes, sir.”

Rafe turned to Gabby. Before she knew what he was about, he took her hand and raised it to his mouth, placing a kiss on the back.

“I’ll catch up with you later, doctor.”

Gabby shivered at the warm press of his lips. She sincerely hoped she
didn’t
meet this sexy, deadly man again. Her equilibrium was unsettled enough as it was. “Good-
bye
, Mr. Andros.”

Rafe shot her a devil’s grin, then slowly released her hand, letting his fingers stroke her palm as he pulled free.

She had to grit her teeth against the urge to keep her skin touching his, to absorb his warmth and strength. She refused to give him the advantage by showing him how he affected her. At least he’d never know that even when he’d threatened her back at the cabin she’d been aroused by his touch. Just thinking about her reaction made her cheeks heat. Luckily, Rafe took her blush as a positive reaction to his kiss on her hand.

With a wink, Rafe turned to her escort. “Be nice to her, McDermott. She’s had a hard night.”

Then he was gone.

“Right this way, doctor,” the young man said. He led her through a secure door and down a long corridor toward the back of the house.

As she walked, she realized she’d made a mistake in trying to brush Rafe off. An alpha male bent on flirtation would only take it as a challenge.

Tough. She had no idea where she was, or even if Rafe and his men really were the good guys. She wasn’t going to waste her energy flirting with him when he might have orders to kill her the next time they met.

McDermott stopped before a closed door of heavy, carved mahogany. He knocked, and at some signal she didn’t catch, opened the door.

The man behind the desk rose and came around to greet her. He was in his early fifties with short, nutmeg brown hair silvered at the temple with a few gray strands. Standing around six feet tall, he had the trim, athletic build of a long-distance runner. His sharp, gray eyes gave nothing away as he met her gaze.

“Dr. Montague, welcome to the Surgical Strike Unit. I’m Director Ryker.” He shook her hand with pressure that was firm enough to be authoritative, but not so hard as to be aggressive or painful. “Please,” he gestured to an old-fashioned wingback chair. “Sit down.”

As she lowered herself onto the seat, he moved back around his desk. “I understand you have information on what our man Nate Ngoro has been put through.” The steel underneath his friendly tone reminded her of Rafe.

Nate. Rafe’s friend. Her memory was a bit foggy from exhaustion, but she thought the picture they’d showed her had been of a big black man. “I’m sorry, sir, but I never saw Nate at the compound. Kaufmann kept the work groups isolated, probably so we wouldn’t understand the full scope and purpose of his program. So I can’t say for certain what was done to him.”

Gabby suspected that Kaufmann’s research was far more complex than she understood. But with Laurel’s death, the notes she’d stolen from the other sectors were gone. Gabby had hoped those notes would give a fuller picture of the scope of Kaufmann’s work.

Ryker nodded slowly. “Please, give me your best overview of what we’re dealing with. We can get into specifics later. For now, I need to know which resources to assign to caring for Ngoro and the other men rescued.”

Gabby nodded and launched into an explanation of what she knew. At the end, Ryker’s expression was grim. “Since you have the best knowledge of Kaufmann’s program, I’d like to offer you a job working with our doctors on reversing the damage done to Ngoro and the other men.”

“You trust me enough to work with them?” she asked.

Ryker’s eyes bored into her. “Yes, for now. We’ll be monitoring you, of course, but you impressed Rafe with the way you cared for the men on the trip here. He’s got good instincts and he says to trust you.”

Gabby felt her cheeks heat with pleasure. Odd to think that Rafe’s opinion mattered after the way he’d terrified her back at her cabin, but the way he’d interacted with his men and his willingness to reconsider his initial judgment of her had given her a degree of respect for him.

Ryker tapped the tips of his steepled fingers against his chin. “I also want you to work with Rafe on creating a map of the interior section of the lower lab, so we can return and remove the remaining subjects.”

Gabby froze. Go back to the lab? Was he nuts?

Her face must have given away her emotion, because the corner of Ryker’s mouth twitched. “My people excel at this type of rescue operation,” he said.

“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to insult them. It’s just—”

“We understand the risks,” he said with surprising gentleness. “That’s why we need you to tell us every detail about the lab you remember, no matter how insignificant it seems. The more complete a picture we have of the facility, the safer our team will be.”

Gabby nodded. She didn’t want to think back on her time in the labs. But she’d do it in order to save the men left behind.

And if her heart beat faster at the thought of working with Rafe, she ignored it.

“Of course, sir. I’d be happy to help.”

T
he scrabble of claws against the floor inside his cabin let Rafe know he had a visitor even before he opened the door. He barely had time to close the door and brace his back against the wall before his sister-in-law’s golden retriever leapt at his chest, aiming an exuberant doggie kiss at his chin.

“Whoa, Monroe. Down boy.”

“C’mon, goofball, leave my brother alone.” Rafe’s older brother, Niko, pulled Monroe down by the collar and dragged him into the living room, where Monroe was promptly distracted by his favorite chew toy.

“Welcome home, bro,” Niko said in Greek. He bent down and snatched up a squat glass before Monroe’s tail knocked it off the coffee table.

Rafe’s throat tightened at the familiar language. Their father had been dead less than four months, and using the tongue of his birthplace still made Rafe choke up at his weaker moments.

To hide his reaction, he thumped his brother on the back, then headed toward the open bottle of Ouzo that sat on his kitchen pass-through. It was too early in the morning for drinking, but what the hell. He needed something to dull the horror of watching Kaufmann’s subjects die.

“Where’s Jenna?” Rafe asked after the first fiery shot cleared his throat of any lingering emotion.

“With the hawks.”

Rafe shot his brother a glance. “Kai okay?” Kai was Jenna’s older brother. If he’d taken a turn for the worse, that could explain why Jenna needed time alone with the birds of prey.
When the SSU had first moved into this compound, it restored the section that had originally been a wildlife rehabilitation center.
Working with the various birds and animals had become part of the SSU’s therapy program for agents recovering from both psychological and physical wounds.

“Yeah. They’ve got him stabilized, but he came damn close to dying. At least this time they’ve found some new drugs to help battle the malaria.”

The mutant malaria parasite Kai had picked up in a warlord’s prison in Indonesia had resisted even the latest experimental drugs, leaving their friend suffering from attacks every few weeks. And no one could predict how debilitating the attacks would be.

“Nearly losing Kai again has been rough on her,” Niko admitted. “She just needs some time to herself.”

Rafe heard the worry in his brother’s voice. “You okay with that?” he asked.

Niko shrugged and tilted his head for another shot of Ouzo. “She’s getting better. When she’s upset, Jenna turns to me more often than before.”

Over two years ago, Jenna had barely survived an attack that killed her parents and her fourteen-year-old twin brother and sister. She’d come out of that ordeal believing Kai was responsible. Determined to kill her brother in revenge, she’d trained with the SSU, trying to turn herself into an emotionless killing machine.

Jenna had discovered Kai was innocent only to almost lose him first to a vicious crime lord’s torture, and now to his latest malaria attack.

Rafe and Kai had bonded during shared physical therapy sessions after a mission that finally took down Mexican crime lord Jaime Alverez. He hated seeing his friend suffer from the malaria, but at least Kai was among friends who cared about him.

For a moment Rafe thought about Gabby Montague and wondered how she was settling in. Was there anyone back at Kaufmann’s compound who worried about her absence? Her background report had shown no living relatives. Since her obituary had run in her local newspaper, her friends surely believed her to be dead.

Monroe whined and butted his head against Rafe’s knee. Rafe leaned down and rubbed the dog’s head. Maybe he should check up on the pretty doctor. To reassure her that she was safe here. That he cared if she was frightened or lonely. The irony made his lips curl in a rueful smile. But it was true. He wanted her to start thinking of him as a friend. Hell, as more than a friend. He hadn’t been attracted to a woman this strongly in years.

Shit. How’d the woman get under his skin so fast?

Rafe distracted himself from digging too deeply on that question by rubbing Monroe’s ears and grinning down at the happy dog before straightening and reaching for his glass of Ouzo.

He probably needed to give the sexy doctor some space. After all, he’d nearly frightened her to death, then dragged her across the country to a place where she knew no one. So he doubted he’d be welcome at her door.

For some reason, though, that only made the urge to see her stronger. Cursing this inexplicable connection he felt to the doctor, he glanced over at Niko. “So, what brings you here, bro?”

“Heard you found Nate,” Niko replied. “And brought back a sexy scientist.” He tilted his glass toward Rafe. “Way to go.”