Rush (Phoenix Rising) (26 page)

For Jessica, hearing Quaid say their names, knowing they knew he was alive all this time yet had hidden him . . . Her fury escalated. If she’d gotten him back sooner, maybe . . .

She shook the thought from her head. Too late for maybes. But the rage still burned.

“Dargan,” Kai confirmed.

“That’s what Cash said. I got all my information through Cash. No one was ever introduced to me. I wasn’t a person, I was a thing. An instrument. A test rat.”

“So, you saw this man”—Jessica pointed to Schaeffer in the video’s still frame—“and this man”—she pointed to Gorin—“together in the last five years at one of the sites where they took you to . . . um . . . test—”

“Experiment.” His eyes came back to hers with a hard, almost glassy quality. “They experimented on me, Jessica. I’ve been living with it for years, there’s no point in softening the words. And the answer is yes. I’ve seen them together in the last
three months
. Why? Is that significant?”

Jessica stared at the image of Schaeffer and Gorin shaking hands. They were both much younger, both wearing suits, only Gorin wore a white lab coat as well.

She darted a look at Kai to find him already looking at her, his green eyes alight with excitement.

“Very.” She redirected her attention to Quaid. “Schaeffer and Gorin own a company together called Millennium Manufacturing. Millennium is a contractor for the Department of Defense. They bid on manufacturing projects for the military. Because Schaeffer has a seat in the senate as well as on the Armed Forces Committee, his ownership of a company that handles military contracts is seen as a potential conflict of interest. As a condition of his positions, Schaeffer has to keep his assets with Millennium in trust for the term of his candidacy. He isn’t supposed to have any dealings with the company—
at all.
Which means meetings with his business partner while a senator and a member of the Armed Forces Committee—”

“Can get him canned from both,” Kai said, vengeful glee in his voice. “Without the power of his positions and contacts within the government agencies, Gil Schaeffer is nothing. He becomes a nonissue for us.”

“It may be difficult to prove he visited the sites,” Quaid said. “I don’t know how you’d get access to their security tapes or logs.”

Kai breathed heavily, shaking his head. “Pessimists, both of you. Play the video.” He lifted his chin to the screen. “Maybe there’s more on it.”

Jessica hit the arrow and they watched the video play. Within the first ten seconds, she remembered what it was from—an attempt to raise public opinion of the senator during an election year. And she instantly recognized the significance for Quaid and the team—different from what she’d first thought. Her hope for the future shot skyward.

She stopped the video and grabbed Quaid’s hand. Clutching the computer to her chest, she looked at Kai and pulled Quaid toward the door. “We have to show this to the others.”

J
essica’s mind lifted in an upward spiral with all the implications of the video of Schaeffer she’d found as she stepped into the main bunker. “I have something.”

They all looked up from their work, Alyssa and Teague in the living room, Mitch and Cash at one of the dining tables. Even Kat and Mateo stopped coloring to peer up at her.

Mitch took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She smiled, her hope rallying for the first time since all this had started. “And it’s really good.”

Mitch and Cash rose from their seats and came into the living area. Cash sat next to Jessica and Mitch stood behind the sofa, sipping his coffee. Kat and Mateo resumed their chatter and their coloring.

“This video is from before the warehouse explosion,” Jessica explained.

She pointed out Schaeffer on the video and then Gorin.

“We can’t use that,” Mitch started. “Schaeffer wasn’t—”

“I’m not finished, Mr. Mouthy.” She gave him a warning look. “This video isn’t about Schaeffer and Gorin associating
before
his term in the Senate, it’s about something else. Quaid recognizes both of them from meetings they’ve had
recently
at off-site test facilities where he’s been.”

Mitch’s eyes sharpened with interest and darted to Quaid, who was standing nearby, arms crossed. “Is there any way to prove that? Video surveillance we can steal? Witnesses we can blackmail? Log books? Anything?”

“Every site has tight security,” Quaid said. “Good luck getting into it.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it,” Mitch said. “I’ll talk to you about that in a minute. Tell us about the video, Jess.”

“This is from Schaeffer’s campaign during his bid for senate just before the warehouse explosion. He participated in a short-lived campaign while he was still with the DoD designed to increase his ratings by dolling up the use of taxes in defense-related research. This was one of the news interview spots. Just watch.”

Jessica started the clip and knelt on the floor to give everyone a good view. A pristine lab filled the screen, complete with expensive-looking equipment decorating the counters in the background and workers in white jackets scurrying past in the distance, intent on their work. Schaeffer began the casual spot by introducing Gorin and discussing some totally bogus but politically acceptable and publically supported form of research to keep their nation safe from enemy forces.

“That’s bullshit,” Mitch said. “They never even planned on putting that project into action.”

“They don’t plan on putting two-thirds of their projects into action,” Jessica said. “Most are just covers for the black projects.”

Schaeffer called to someone off camera and another man stepped into view. Mid-fifties, gray hair, flat, dark eyes, placid smile.

Alyssa gasped. “That’s Rostov. The scientist Keira shot at the ranch in Nevada.”

“You’re right, Jess,” Mitch said. “This is interesting.”

Jessica nodded.

Schaeffer introduced Rostov, spoke of more false projects. Then he called another person into the camera’s view. A woman—young, wearing a white coat, and so stunningly beautiful she dominated the screen. She had an Eastern European look with high cheekbones, full lips, and exotic eyes. They weren’t blue or green, but turquoise and against her pale skin and deep black hair, she was truly striking.

“And this is our youngest new addition to the scientific team—”

Crash
.

Jessica jumped. Kat and Mateo screamed and ran to Alyssa. Teague and Cash jumped from the sofa, Kai at the door with his weapon drawn, all before Jessica had gotten to her feet.

Mitch was the only one who hadn’t moved. His hands still curved in front of him as if he held the cup, but it had long since shattered on the cement floor. He had lost eighty percent of his sexy tan. His eyes were wide, mouth slack. He tilted forward and gripped the sofa with both hands.

“Mitch?” Alyssa extricated herself from the sofa and stood beside her brother, a hand on his arm. “Mitch.”

When he didn’t respond, she followed his gaze to the computer. Jessica did the same. Cash picked up a broom from the kitchen and worked on the glass shards, but his gaze stayed on the video.

“Dr. Dubrovsky,” Schaefer was saying, “is a brilliant rising star in information systems security and will be creating an impenetrable barrier to our most valuable data.”

“Oh, my God,” Alyssa said. “Is that . . . ? I mean, she looks just like . . .” She turned wide, confused eyes back to her brother. “But Halina’s last name wasn’t Dubrovsky. Was it?”

Mitch’s shock twisted into confusion and anger. “No. It was
Sin
trovsky,” he said with clenched teeth. “And she didn’t work for DoD. And she was a biological scientist, not a computer wizard.” His fingers clenched in the soft sofa cushions, his handsome face tight with pain and fury. “What the fuck
is
this?”

“Kids in the room,” Kai said out of the side of his mouth.

Mitch rubbed his face with both hands. “Sorry.”

When he looked back at the now-frozen image of the three scientists where the video had ended, his brow was pulled into a tight V and his bright eyes had darkened to a complex hazel. His expression gave Jessica a completely foreign glimpse into a man she’d thought she’d known. This woman had meant a great deal to him. This woman had hurt him. And he was just discovering this woman had been involved with Schaeffer from the very beginning.

“You’re right, Jess, that is good.” Mitch managed a voice of power and optimism, but Jessica heard the stress beneath. He was as expert at hiding his injuries as she’d once been. “I’m going to take a quick shower and then we can make our call to Schaeffer.”

Mitch walked out and Kai immediately turned to Alyssa. “What in the hell was that about?”

Alyssa’s gaze returned to the last frame in the video, brow furrowed in distress. “The woman . . . she’s Mitch’s ex-girlfriend.”

“So what?” Kai said. “He’s got thousands of exes. For Christ’s sake, the man is bedding three new women every week. I mean she’s hot.” He looked back at the screen. “Okay . . . she’s kinda . . . out of the ballpark gorgeous, but so are all his others. Why is he so twisted over her?”

“She’s the reason he seeks out all the others.” Alyssa’s gaze met Kai’s, her normally bright expression troubled. “She was
the One
. I never understood why he couldn’t get past it.... Then I met Teague.”

“Oh.” Jessica’s soft sound of pain echoed in the silence. She hadn’t meant to verbalize her empathy, but she felt for Mitch. Knew exactly how that lifestyle could look so fun and carefree on the outside, yet could be the loneliest, emptiest existence on the planet. And she ached for him.

Quaid’s big, warm arm slid around her shoulders and drew her to his side. A burst of confusing, complex tears sprung to her eyes. She burrowed close and looked up into his worried gaze. She’d lost her One. Now she had a second chance. She pulled his hand to her mouth and kissed his palm, soaking in the feel of his skin against her lips.

Before she turned back to the others, she gave his hand a squeeze and met his eyes. They were still confused, but stoked with a lot more heat.

“What I wanted to show everyone with the video,” Jessica said, “was how Schaeffer linked himself to Rostov. It proves that Schaeffer and Gorin are linked directly to Rostov and that bullshit of a psychotic religious leader they tried to use to cover the incident in Nevada will be blown to hell. If this gets out, his campaign is dust. He can kiss the Senate good-bye.”

Kai nodded. “That’s powerful, Jess. I’m sure Mitch understands.”

“I’m just going to check on him,” Alyssa said. “I’ll meet you in the supply room.”

Quaid wrapped his other arm around Jessica and turned her into his chest, pulling her close. She was just about to close her eyes and sink into his support when Alyssa came to an abrupt stop, one hand on her belly, the other on the wall leading to the hallway toward the bathroom.

“Alyssa?” Jessica stiffened, pushed back from Quaid. “Teague . . . Alyssa—”

Teague twisted and sprinted toward his wife.

He’d just reached her when she turned to the group. “I’m fine. His son is just trying to give me kidney failure.”

 

“Ryder, can you talk?” Kai’s boss’s voice was deep and commanding. Q would have pinned Waterbury as military or law enforcement, even without any information.

“I’ve got the team here,” Kai said. “Can we stay on speaker?”

“Why the hell not? They already know enough to breach national security ten ways to Sunday. Your boy is Reginald Baker Alsadani,” he said without pause. “An American-born Libyan. Semper Fi for twelve years, MARSOC for eight of those.”

Kai turned his gaze on Alsadani, who was peering at the group from beneath a swollen left eyelid.

“What’s MARSOC?” Jessica whispered over her shoulder to Q, who stood behind her.

He slid his hands around her waist and leaned close, breathing in her scent. She put her hands over his, the small gesture creating a warm spot in the middle of his chest. “Marine Corps Special Operations Command. Military special forces like Delta Force, SEALs or Rangers.”

“How do you know that?”

“I don’t know how I know half the shit in my brain.”

“He’s been out of the military for three years,” Waterbury said. “Dishonorable discharge, but I can’t see deep enough into the file to know why. The security clearance is too high.”

“What the hell?” Kai muttered.

“We’re not even at the fun part yet, Ryder. Shit, boy, you do know how to find trouble, don’t you?”

Kai dropped into a chair, braced his elbows on his knees and scraped his fingers through his hair. “What do we have here, boss? A military contractor?”

“Nope, he washed out of that, too.”

Kai’s forehead creased in a frown. “How do you wash out of black ops after eight years in MARSOC?”

“How do you get dishonorably discharged from MARSOC in the first place?” Waterbury asked, adding weight to the growing suspicion.

Kai rubbed his temple. “If he’s not active duty and he’s not a legit contractor . . .”

“He’s got to be working rogue,” Waterbury said. “Unless, that is, one of you know him personally and this is all moot.”

Kai’s head came up. His gaze darted around the group. Paused on Cash. On Q. On Jessica. Cash and Jessica shook their heads. Kai’s gaze darted back to Q.

All the strange visions Q’d had of the mysterious Trent and the Middle Eastern desert flooded his mind. The sick thought that he’d brought this guy to the team made him release Jessica and step over to Alsadani. He bent and gripped the man’s face in one hand. Q studied his bruised features, thought back to what the man had looked like when Q had first spotted him scaling the ravine. But his memory was as blank as always.

Frustrated, angry with himself, with Gorin, with . . . so many unnamed assholes he didn’t even know, Q pushed Alsadani’s face aside as he let go. He turned to Kai, shook his head and lifted his hands as he shrugged. “He looks as familiar as all of you did yesterday.”

“No,” Kai said, his eyes sliding away from Q. “No one here knows him.”

Q crossed his arms and paced, head down. A bad feeling grew in his gut.

“Then I’d say he was hired by an individual,” Waterbury said, “not a government institution. We all know they use these guys for black ops. We all know they assassinate people. But anyone who sanctioned a burned asset as a contractor on a legitimate op is looking to end up in the unemployment line. That’s serious business to eighty percent of us who are going for pensions.”

“Why would someone hire a burned asset when they could hire a legit one?” Jessica asked.

“Generally for one of three reasons, my anonymous friend,” Waterbury said with a hint of humor in his voice. “One, the job is too dirty for a legit contractor to take on—which would have to be a pretty damn dark job, something along the lines of kidnapping, torturing and mutilating a kindergarten class.”

Q cringed as Jessica flinched and covered her eyes. He wished he could protect her from all this. Hoped like hell he hadn’t brought even more pain and suffering to her life.

“Two,” Waterbury continued, “the job had to be kept absolutely confidential. Burned assets are at the end of their rope. If they talk, they’re SOL in the States. The only people who’ll hire them after that would be Colombian drug cartels. That ensures their utter silence.”

There was that Colombian drug cartel mention again. Q would have to look into that.

“Or three,” Waterbury said, “the person hiring such a contractor is not lawfully employed by a legit government agency and therefore can’t access or obtain acceptance from legit contractors.”

Silence lingered in the room. Kai finally cleared his throat. “So, sir, if I told you that Reggie was hired by the DoD—”

“The
DoD
?” Waterbury said before Kai had even finished his sentence. “I’d tell you not to fly my damn plane again until you’d had a full psych eval. My insurance doesn’t cover stupidity.”

Q needed air. He turned out the supply room door and walked. And walked. And walked. He found himself on the edge of a ravine and stopped to look out over the hills on the other side. They rolled in gorgeous shades of golds, oranges and greens, but he couldn’t appreciate the beauty, his mind too filled with turmoil.

He knew Jessica was behind him. Had heard her footsteps following him shortly after he’d left the bunker.

“Hey.” Her soft voice floated over him and he closed his eyes to absorb the sound. “I’ll leave you alone if you need time. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“If it turns out I brought this on, that all of you have suffered because of me, that all of you are in danger because of me . . .” He shook his head. “No, I won’t be okay.”