Agent N6: Dylan (13 page)

Hope said, “Teague, you have to tell Dylan you love him.”

Straightening, she stared down at Hope, her heart shattering.

Hope grabbed her hand and squeezed. “I don’t know what’s going on with you two, but don’t wait until it’s too late.”

That evening, Teague walked into the downtown Sacramento office, her heart pounding so hard she knew the agents could hear it in the SUV outside. She’d already decided that she would negotiate with Cyrus for Amy and, if necessary, the D.I.R.E. agents’ release. If Cyrus needed her that badly, she had to use her clout to her advantage.

When she thought about it, she had a great opportunity. If she could guarantee their safety and left with Cyrus, she would sabotage his technology from the inside. She could help Dylan get his revenge, and if all worked out, determine how to destroy the clones once and for all.

“Teague.
Thank God…”

Amy sat behind a desk in an office off the reception area. Her face was tear-streaked, Dr. Capri’s stockbroker and another man – clones? – standing behind her, guns in shoulder holsters. Amy’s phone lay on the desktop, a small flat screen on the wall, playing the evening news.

Walking over, Teague glared at the men as she hugged Amy close. “Are you okay?”

Amy frowned, a wadded tissue in her hand. Teague knew her uncharacteristic behavior confused her friend. But, she had no time to explain how much her life had changed since she’d left the lab.

“Yes, I’m fine. What’s going on, Teague?”

“The less you know, the better.” Looking at the men, she said, “I’m here. Let her go.”

Teague knew once Amy walked out that door, the D.I.R.E. agents would know she’d lied to them. However, by that point, she would’ve accomplished her goal of getting Amy to safety. They would take care of her.

Giving a brief nod, the stockbroker said, “Agreed.”

Turning Amy to look at him, he trailed a finger down her cheek, his eyes dark and filled with hunger.

Did he feel something for Amy? Teague assumed he’d used Amy to get to her. Had he fallen in love in the process? Could clones fall in love? A rumble of thunder sounded overhead.

“Be careful,” he said, in a deep voice.

Amy sighed, her eyes going soft. Judging from his muscular physique and suave manner, the clone must’ve been created for seduction. He held Amy spellbound. Teague knew, first hand, Dylan could accomplish the same thing and he’d needed no special enhancements, just his generous, brave, outgoing self.

Lightning flashed outside the window before thunder rumbled again. She heard the front door open. An older, blond man appeared in the office. He looked so much like Riordan St. James, there could be no doubt she stood feet away from Luke Powers.

“I’m looking for Cyrus,” he said.

Now that he’d arrived, she knew Cyrus would be there any moment. She wanted Amy nowhere near him. Pointing toward the front door, Teague watched Luke.

“Amy, go. Now.”

Her friend jumped, before grabbing her phone off the desk and giving Teague a brief hug. “Love you, T.”

The endearment surprised her like a knock on the parietal lobe. They had never shown affection, yet Teague knew she could always count on Amy.

Lowering her voice to a near whisper, Teague said, “Get far away from here.”

Amy ran from the room, brushing past Luke in the process.

Lifting her chin, Teague looked down her nose at Luke. The bastard had just left his daughter guilt-ridden and heartbroken. She would give him no respect.

“If you want to see Cyrus,” Teague said, “get in line.”

Pulling back his head, he gave her an affronted frown. “Who are you?”

“I’m Dr. Teague Hamilton, Mr. Powers.”

Rain rattled the windows, the wind whirling and whipping at the trees. A deafening roar shook the building, causing her to stumble. The clones seemed unaffected, while Luke stared out the window, a succession of lightning strikes flashing in the sky. The building rumbled like a volcano before it ruptured, winds lashing at the structure, rocking it. She braced a hand on the desk, her body trembling.

The skies were clear when they flew into the city. Where had this come from and why was no one concerned? She’d never witnessed a storm so violent.

A blinding light flashed, before a loud whir faded into silence. The smell of burning wood and ash washed over the room.

“Right this way.” Amy’s stockbroker pointed to the doorway where Luke stood.

Luke stepped into the hallway, allowing her to pass with the clones, before taking up the rear.

“Where are we going?” she said, hugging her tote bag against her shoulder.

Pressing a bar across the door, the stockbroker led them into a large warehouse. A huge, bell-shaped machine sat in the room, water dripping from its lighted rim, tiny flames dancing on the floor in a ring of black dust. Luke stood beside her, his spicy cologne subtle yet, distracting.

“What is that?” She watched a vertical door open from the ground up. A staircase came into view.

“A time machine.”

Teague whipped around to look at him. D.I.R.E. had suspected Cyrus owned the technology. Now, she had proof.

“You knew about it?” Pulling out her phone, she took a picture.

Luke laughed at her. “You don’t think he’ll actually let you keep that, do you?”

The door burst open behind them. Catching her breath, she whipped around. The D.I.R.E. agents held their guns pointed at the clones.

Thank God.

“Hands in the air where we can see them.”

Pandemonium erupted in the cavernous space. The clones rushed the agents, firing shots, the bullets pinging off the metal door and exposed beams. Stooping low, Luke grabbed her arm and ran toward the craft. Teague dug in her heels.

“No, I don’t want to go…” She shouted above the gunfire.

“Do you want to die?” he yelled, his fingers banding around her arm with bruising force.

Gulping for breath, she shoved against him, trying to break away. She couldn’t get inside that time machine. She’d never see Dylan again, never get a chance to apologize.

“I’d prefer dying, over going with Cyrus.”

She looked back at the agents. One went down, a bullet to his chest.

“
No..
.”

Shoving her forward, Luke said, “You may get your wish.”

A blond man appeared on the machine steps, his blue eyes narrow and determined. “Here...” He held out his hand.

She fought the men, kicking and swinging her fists. The blond grabbed her arm and yanked her up the stairs, Luke shoving her from behind. Stumbling on the top step, she stopped inside the small cabin. A clone stood in front of a dashboard, his back to them. The door shut with a resounding
clong
.

The blond sat her in one of four, vacant chairs in the center of the small space. “Dr. Hamilton, I’m Cyrus Matheson. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person.”

She glared up at him. “I never agreed to… time travel, Cyrus.” Straightening in her seat, she willed away the constriction gripping her diaphragm. Why did it have to worsen now?

“What better place to hide you from D.I.R.E. than in the past?” he said, his voice smooth, calm.

Tightening her fist around her phone, Teague preferred death to spending life in another time, without her research, her medication, her… Dylan.

Rather than hiding her MS hug, perhaps she should give into it. Maybe he would see her as useless and let her go.

Luke said, “Is that necessary, Cyrus?”

“She’ll be my bargaining chip for Keegan.” Cyrus turned his back on them to work at the dashboard.

He entered the date June sixth, nineteen eighty-nine on the dash display. She was five years old, her parents dead less than a year.

“Are you sure you have the right time?” Luke crossed the cabin to stand beside him at the display.

Cyrus stared at him, a look of condescending patience in his blue gaze. “You came to me, Powers. I know how to operate my own machine.”

The idea that Cyrus could pinpoint a specific time of day in the past boggled her mind. To think she’d always considered herself knowledgeable in cutting edge technology. The truth was, she was a naïve schoolgirl.

She glanced at her phone. The photo of the time machine sat on the screen. She had to get it to D.I.R.E. while she still had time.

With the men distracted, she pressed the text button. Using Jocelyn and Hope’s numbers would ensure her message reached Mitchell. If she never saw Dylan again, she wanted him to know the truth. That she wasn’t with Cyrus by choice, that she was completely infatuated with him and would do all she could to help him from the inside. Even if it cost her, her life.

The machine revved up, thunder rumbling outside the craft. She didn’t realize she’d typed everything into her phone until she stared down at the screen. She had to get down the rest before they caught her

1989. Luke is here. Capri connected.
Dylan,
meeting u - my luckiest day ever. Teague.

She hit send and watched it process, before deleting the text from history.

The phone was snatched from her hand. She gasped. Glaring at Cyrus standing above her, she wrapped her arms around her middle.

“We’re going to have to do something about your misplaced loyalty, Dr. Hamilton.”

***

Dylan,
meeting u - my luckiest day ever. Teague.

She might as well have ripped open his chest again.

Growling in frustration, Dylan slammed his fists against the wall of nanobots standing in the middle of the stealth jet. Pain shot through his chest and into his head, aggravating him even more. Walking toward Saint and Rose in the open cockpit, he paced the length of the cabin.

“Sorry, McCall,” Tristan Jacobs said, through the armband. “I can’t teleport to a moving target. If you weren’t flying over the Pacific, I could pick you up.” He disconnected.

What good was his new enhancement now? Teague was freaking God knows where in the space/time continuum - with Cyrus. The idea of never seeing her again scared the shit out of him. D.I.R.E. had time travel technology, but how did he find her in nineteen eighty-nine – if that’s where they remained? The longer it took to reach her, the more time Cyrus had to hide her anywhere in time.

He could hear his father now.
I tried to tell you. You aren’t cut out for this.

“If they went back to nineteen eighty-nine,” Riordan said, “we’ll find them in Sacramento. That’s where everything went down with my father.”

“Why take Teague?” Creating a baseball in his hand, Dylan threw it at the wall. It shattered to the floor. The nanobots trailed up his legs to enter his armbands.

“It’s her destiny, right?” Rose said, turning in his seat. “If Capri’s connected and she worked for him, he’s been a part of Cyrus’s plans for decades.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Dylan paced again. “She says she doesn’t work for him.” He stopped to stare at them. “Hell, why did she show up on the beach with that contract if she worked for him all along?”

Riordan’s low voice rang with logic, reminding him of Teague. “Unless they did it to get her inside D.I.R.E.?”

Dylan spat the curse word, refusing to believe the evidence. Teague worked for Capri, who worked for Cyrus. She infiltrated the agency, gained access to the confiscated genetic research through Clint’s friendship, earned Dylan’s trust, and had now returned to the fold with whatever samples she had in her possession.

No
.

He couldn’t believe it.
Wouldn’t
believe it. Teague had saved his life and sent them information on this time travel op. Why would she do that if she worked for Cyrus?

Shaking his head, Dylan said, “Maybe she did work for Capri but wasn’t aware of his tie to Cyrus. Hell, she started working for him as a kid. How would she know?” He shoved his fingers through his hair. “Maybe they planted her in Capri’s lab because she was freaking brilliant.” Stilling, he stared at them, the pieces assembling into place like his nanobots.

“Shit. Capri used her to create Cyrus’s technology.”

Good God
.

Teague’s mind whirled as she stared at Dr. Capri’s lab near UC Davis Medical Center in nineteen eighty-nine Sacramento. It all made sense now.

Dr. Capri had used her to create the genetic technology for Cyrus and Clay Matheson’s program. They’d planted her in the lab as a child. She’d worked for Cyrus for years and never knew it. His job offer was just a front to move her from Capri’s lab to his island facility.

Destiny’s Child
.

“Let’s go.”

Cyrus had her by the arm, Luke on her other side, wringing his hands. Headlights from a passing car washed over them as they stood on the curb, waiting to cross the street. Under the cloak of dusk, they left the clone with the time machine in William Land Park. The taxi ride over to Stockton Boulevard had been paid in cash, Luke’s nervous breathing the only sound in the cab.

“I understand Cyrus’s place in all of this,” she said, as they crossed the street. “Why are you here, Powers?”

They stopped outside the lab’s side door. The building appeared much smaller than in twenty fifteen, the exterior more nineteen sixties retro than modern contemporary. The interior lights were illuminated, indicating Dr. Capri ran an evening crew, just as he did in the future.

“That is none of your concern, Doctor.” Cyrus opened the door. “Do not talk to anyone, understand?”

Or, what? He’d kill her? Not likely.

She had to play this smart. If she died in nineteen eighty-nine, where would that leave his technology? Did it leave his plans for a perfect world in chaos?

Would it prevent Dylan from ever going through his imprisonment?

If she could save him the heartache, the pain and the anger, she would sacrifice herself. She had no family; he had a big family that would miss him. Her work had created great danger for the world. His job revolved around keeping it safe.

No question about it. If she couldn’t get away from Cyrus, she would find a way to die.

Walking into a narrow hallway, they found it empty. Voices could be heard in the distance, a radio playing George Strait somewhere nearby. A tall, slender woman in white scrubs rushed around the corner. Spotting Teague, she stopped short and caught her breath. “Holy Mother of God… Dr.
Hamilton
?”

Teague pulled back her head. Luke whipped around the stare at her. How did she recognize her?

Cyrus’s clutch on her arm tightened as he rushed forward.

“I… I thought you were dead,” she said, backing against the wall to let them pass.

Dead? Teague stared back at her as Cyrus dragged her around the corner. None of this made sense. How could she know her? Did Capri have a picture of her somewhere? Had she been here before and had no memory of it?

“How does she recognize me, Cyrus?”

The sounds of arguing drifted toward them. Behind a closed door, a woman cried
no
, before the scrape of a chair on tile.

Luke stopped short and cocked his head. “Annie?”

***

Hurrying down the hall, Luke stopped in front of the closed door and stared at it, waiting for his heart to slow. He heard Annie on the other side. He was sure of it. She always spoke in a soft, almost squeaky tone, ending her sentences on a raspy note.

Whoever stood on the other side would pay for upsetting her.

Taking a deep breath, he shoved open the door – and stopped cold. His sweet Annie whipped around, her tanned face streaked with tears, her green eyes wide.

Behind her stood his father, Seth.

Rage exploded inside him like a mushroom cloud. There was no end to the turmoil his father had caused in his life. All of the secrets, the deception and adultery came rushing to the forefront, infecting his body.

“You
bastard
.”

Gritting his teeth, Luke stormed across the workroom and shoved Seth away from her. He fell against a metal bookcase, sending books tumbling to the floor.

Breathing hard, he stared down at Seth, twenty-five years younger than the last time he’d seen him. He’d dreamed of this opportunity for revenge, to get the best of his father - for once in his life. To squash the sonovabitch beneath his shoe and grind the knowledge into his face.

He looked back at Annie. Her round eyes were wide with terror, her hands braced back against the counter.

“Are you okay, Annie?”

Nodding, she blinked at him, her brows furrowed in confusion. “Do I… know you?”

He started. Of course, she didn’t know him. He was thirty-three years older than the last time she saw him. She, on the other hand, was just as young and beautiful as he remembered.

“Seth.” Cyrus’s voice broke through the tension like a light saber, calm yet deadly.

Seth’s wide, horrified gaze went to Cyrus. “Cyrus?” He looked at Luke, but no recognition dawned in his eyes.

His father knew Cyrus
. Matheson had been there enough for Seth to
recognize
him. Cyrus had manipulated time like players in a video game. What time period did he actually belong in?

“Come with me, Seth.” Cyrus’s gaze went to Luke. “Release him.”

No
. The chance to confront his father about everything lay right in his hands. This was what he’d wanted - to punish him, to hurt
him
, for a change.

Annie cleared her throat, her flushed, solemn face pinched in a frown. She was worth it, worth more than the revenge or its satisfaction.

He’d come to the past to find happiness. It stood a few feet away.

Stepping back, Luke watched his father fumble to his feet. Glaring at Luke, Seth brushed off his blazer and straightened his cuffs. With a lingering glance at Annie, Seth walked out of the room and shut the door.

She released a breath. “Thank you.” Wrapping an uneaten salami sandwich in a paper towel, she tossed it in the trash.

“I thought you hated salami?”

Whipping around, Annie’s eyes bugged out, her mouth falling open. When she was a kid, her mother had always made her salami sandwiches for school lunch. She grew to hate them.

She backed against the counter again, her gaze cautious. “Clearly, you have me at a loss. You seem to know me, but I don’t remember you.” Studying him, she narrowed her eyes before they brightened in dawning awareness. “Were you on the second grade field trip to the zoo? Are you the grandfather of one of Riordan’s friends?”

Grandfather.

Luke’s eyes dropped shut, a deep, massaging pain teasing his chest. Here he stood, a fifty-three year old man trying to renew his relationship with a twenty-eight year old woman. What the hell was wrong with him? Seth had done the same thing with Kimberly – and he’d laughed at the absurdity.

Yet, here he stood, in nineteen eighty-nine, trying to do the same thing.

Had he lost his mind?

She’d never go back with him – even if he could convince her of his true identity.

Giving her a small smile, he thought about the photo of Riordan on the cell phone in his pocket. “How is Riordan?”

She gave him a genuine smile, the first since he’d walked into the room. Her eyes sparkled as she walked over to a bulletin board under a wall of cabinets. Pulling down a picture, she handed it to him.

It was the first time he’d ever seen his son as a child. He looked more like Annie at that age than he did now. Luke would give anything to keep it. And her.

“He’s great. His teachers tell me he’s exceptionally smart.” Her smile vanished, her tone turning melancholy. “He got that from his father.”

His heart twisted, the need to hold her clenching his fists. How could he still love her like this? Standing in the same room with her, he felt young again. He didn’t feel fifty-three, but twenty-eight. He felt lighter, freer, a sense of purpose shoving its way into the jumbled mess residing in his mind.

Handing back the photo, Luke said, “If he let you go, he must not be too smart.”

Barking out a half-hearted laugh, she crossed her arms over her chest and relaxed into a smile. “I’m afraid I’m the one that messed that up. I made…” She swallowed hard. “I made some bad decisions.”

Her fingers fumbled with the tortoise shell necklace he’d bought her the summer they conceived Riordan. She still wore it.

“I’d give anything to do it over again,” she said.

He looked away, what’s left of his heart, shattering. She wanted him and he wanted her, but she didn’t even know she stood in the same room with him.

Then again, he wasn’t the same man she remembered.

A part of him hated himself for aging, for living when she’d died. He’d thought that by coming to the past, he could have a life with her and change the course of history. That she wouldn’t
have
to die. He could take her away from here now and let fate have its way with them, together.

He stepped closer, hands in his trouser pockets. At least they’d have this time, a few minutes, an hour, a day more than they’d had before. The foolish hope for more remained, but reality proved he was no better than the bastard that’d walked out of there earlier.

She said, “He used to tell me not to look back. What’s important is what I did with today.”

Memories assaulted him, like rain coming down sideways, pelting his face. He used to tell her that when she’d get down about her father’s drug use. His promise to marry her when he graduated from college had kept her brave.

What kept her brave now?

“How is your father?”

Her round-eyed gaze went to his face. “I must’ve really talked your ear off on that field trip.” With a self-conscious laugh, she said, “How… awkward.”

“You were always easy to talk to, Annie. You just never had anyone to reciprocate.”

Wrinkling her brow, she studied him. “There you go again, talking like we know each other.”

Why didn’t he just tell her who he was?

She’d think he was a crazy old man and have him hauled off. Besides, what good would it do to tell her? So, she could live with more regrets, knowing he’d believed his father’s lies to keep her away, knowing her son had been tortured for three years by the men that’d walked out of there minutes ago?

How could he even be here with Cyrus, knowing what he’d done?

Holding the heels of his hands against his forehead, he turned away. He felt on the brink of madness, a man alone in turbulent waters, the sharks circling, with no land in sight.

She pressed a small hand against his back. He flinched, her touch eliciting pure joy and soul wrenching despair at the same time.

Snatching away her hand, she said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-“

Whipping around, he pulled her into his embrace and held her tight.

Oh… God
…

Tears threatened his eyes, the regret sharp, toxic as it clogged his lungs, choking him. Holding her, he realized he’d never love like this again. Any hope for future happiness was… hopeless. Despite time and space, his love for her would always remain. There was no room for another inside of him.

Inhaling deep, she backed away within the circle of his arms. Her beautiful green eyes turned down at the corners, staring at him in wonder, confusion and pain.

“Who-“

He crushed his mouth to hers, selfish need spurring him to take what he’d yearned for, for decades. She tasted like home, smelled like strawberries in spring sunshine. She was his heaven, the only taste of it he’d probably ever get.

Pushing against his shoulders, she broke the kiss. Backing away from him, she stared with wide, terror-filled eyes, her lips trembling.

Shaking his head, he held out his hands to calm her. “I’m sorry, Sweet. I didn’t mean-“

“He used to call me that…” Giving him a quick onceover, she backed around the room, toward the door. “
Who are you
?” she cried, in near hysterics.

Dammit, why’d he kiss her? He had to get out of there. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.

“I’m leaving. I won’t bother you again. I promise.”

Walking to the door, he grabbed the knob and looked back. “No matter who you’re with, where you go or when, I’ll always love you, Annie.”

Luke yanked open the door and ran down the hall, never stopping until he reached the curb across the street. For a man that loved her, he’d done nothing to prove it. He’d hurt her, confused her, kept her tied to his memories instead of encouraging her to move on.

At this point, the only thing he could hope for was that he’d altered the past enough that she’d live a longer life.

“
Luke?
”

He whipped around. Annie stood under a light in the lab parking lot, staring at him, her voice full of anguish and wonder. Cars passed between them on the street, their lights dancing off her and floating past, like memories they could’ve had and lost.

“Is it you?” she yelled, her voice heavy with torment, the disbelief carrying over the distance like the chill of a coming snowstorm.