Conspiracy Game (45 page)

“Do you really think I’m that stupid?” He slapped her face, hard enough to rock her, following it up by pushing her back against the wall again. “I’m already angry with you, so don’t piss me off.”

“Why?” The slap brought involuntary tears to her eyes. “What did I do besides try to get away? You would have tried too.” She tried to think, to keep from panicking. Jack was on the way. Just stall. There would be a moment, one moment when Luther wasn’t paying close attention, and she’d find a way to get away—or kill him.

He inhaled, pressing his face into her neck. “You stink of him. You slept with that killer. That’s all he is—all he knows. He’s no soldier. He doesn’t understand loyalty to the unit. He’s a killer and you’re carrying his baby. You’re going to a doctor before we get you to the lab, and you’re getting rid of it. You’ll tell them you lost the baby. Understand? If you don’t, your life is going to be hell for a very long time. I’m tempted to cut the thing out of you myself, just like you did the tracking disc.”

Briony couldn’t stop the shudder that ran through her as his hands wandered over her body. He kissed the side of her neck, bit her shoulder hard, a punishment for her sins. “You were always meant to be mine—never his. Why they wanted his child, I’ll never know, but they aren’t going to get it. I’m not going to be able to wait long for you, but I at least want his stench washed off.”

He was pressed up tight against her, so tight she felt him rock solid, his hands exploring her flesh. The sound of gunfire echoed through the night, off in the distance, and she knew Jack was still far away.

She shouldn’t react. If she showed Luther how much she detested his hands on her, he might beat her and force a miscarriage, but his tongue lapped at her neck and his hands crept up her shirt to grab her breasts, and she couldn’t stop herself.

“I know what you’re thinking, and you don’t want to try it, Briony. You’re tough enough, but in a fight, I’d take you every time. You’re not mean enough. I’ve studied you, every training tape they have of you, every move you have.” His lips traveled up to the lobe of her ear and his hand cupped the weight of her breast.

For one small moment she tried to understand what it was like for him, driven by Whitney’s diabolical mind to pursue her,
needing
to pursue her because his body made relentless demands. No other woman was going to satisfy him ever. Why couldn’t Luther see he was every bit a victim as she was—as Jack was—her sister and probably Brett? Whitney moved them all around like pieces on a chessboard.

Luther shoved up her shirt and lowered his mouth to her breast, the urgent needs of his body overcoming all reasoning.

Briony stomped down on his foot as hard as she could, kicking back to drive her heel into his knee. She missed the knee, but hit his shin. He grunted in pain, but his hands tightened to try to hold on to her. Bending forward, she caught him around the neck and threw him, using her back to roll him off of her. Luther hung on to her wrist grimly as he sailed over her head, yanking her arm nearly out of its socket as he somersaulted and hit the ground. She fell facedown and tried to roll at the last moment, instinctively protecting the babies.

The air left her lungs in a rush, and she drew up one leg as Luther lunged to pin her. She tried for his crotch, kicking out hard, but he turned enough to take the numbing blow in his thigh. He swore, doubling his fist and smashing it into her face. Briony saw stars, her left eye swelling so fast she lost vision immediately. Closing off all pain, she pushed up as he sat on her, rising to meet him, trying to get his weight off her stomach. Deliberately he shoved his knee into her hip, grinding down on the stitches she’d put there.

“Damn you, I told you not to try to get rough with me. You can’t win. Do you have any idea how much I could hurt you if I used my full strength? That was just me teaching you a little lesson.”

She shoved at his chest, his leg, doubling her fists and beating at him in an effort to get him off of her.

Stay down! Stay down.

Jack’s voice moved through her head, nearly lost in the adrenaline and fear for her children. She hesitated and then dropped back to the ground. Warned by that small uncertainty, Luther threw himself off of her, rolling away as the bullet tore through his shoulder, where his head had been. He kept rolling away from her, into the mine entrance.

Briony scrambled on all fours toward the thicker cover of the woods. Her eye was swollen, keeping her from seeing properly. Hard hands caught at her and she fought, swinging wildly.

“Baby, it’s me. You’re safe. You’re safe now.” Jack enfolded her in his arms, tight against his chest. She could smell his scent, hear his heartbeat. He pulled back to look down at her. “Fuck! Son of a bitch!” He caught her close again and then pushed her toward Ken, turning his head toward the mine, his eyes glacier-cold.

“No!” Briony caught his arm and tried to pull him back to her. “He knows where she is. I have a sister. He knows where she is, Jack.”

Jack didn’t even turn his head to look back at her as he ran toward the mine.

“Jack! Please!”

You jackass. You’re not thinking.
Ken launched himself at his brother.
You don’t track a wounded bear into his lair, no matter how much he needs killing.
He hit Jack low, at the knees, and brought him down as gunfire erupted from the mine.

Get the fuck off me!

You have a foul mouth. Get your head out of your ass, Jack. Briony’s been through enough, and she doesn’t need to see you die because you’re going off half-cocked. Let’s get the hell out of here. We can track the bastard later.

Did you see what that son of a bitch did to her?

I saw. We’ll get him—just not now. She needs you thinking, Jack.

Jack took a breath—reached for calm. Anything to do with Briony seemed to shatter his composure, but the sight of her swelling face and blood soaking through her jeans and shirt on one side… He shoved Ken off of him and crawled through the brush back toward Briony.

Jack gathered her smaller body up against him. “It’s okay, baby, I just lost my mind for a minute. You’re getting a hell of a shiner there.”

“I have a sister, Jack.” It was humiliating, but she couldn’t stop crying. “They have her. They’re holding her somewhere, and Luther said she was being disciplined because she didn’t want Brett touching her. He said it didn’t matter if the woman was attracted—only the man. What kind of people are they?”

“Bastards, baby,” Jack said, wiping her tears with the pads of his thumbs. Although he was infinitely gentle, she winced, and he dropped his hand. “What happened to your side?” He lifted her shirt to see the gauze pad soaked with blood. “What the hell, Briony! Baby, stop crying, you’re killing me.”

“He sat on me. You saw him sit on me. I don’t know if he could have killed them just by sitting on my stomach, Jack. I don’t know enough about babies.”

The tears streaking down her face broke his heart. “I read that unborn babies were in a very protected environment, Briony. They’re fine. They’re safe.”

“He said he was going to cut them out of me. He planned to take me to a clinic to abort them.” A shudder ran through her body, and a fresh wave of tears began.

Jack wrapped his arms around her and dragged her into the protection of his body, looking a little helplessly at his brother. “Nothing is going to happen to them, Briony.” He lifted her shirt again to reveal the wound on her hip.

“We’ve got to move or we’ll be trapped, Jack,” Ken cautioned, watching their back trail. “We aren’t going to fool them for long. They’ll know we left, and they’ll come running. And Luther or one of the other enhanced soldiers is bound to be telepathic. He’s pinned down in the mine, but the others will be running to cut us off.”

Jack lowered her shirt with a slight frown and tucked her beneath his shoulder. The two men began to jog with her in between them, through the woods away from the house and away from the mine. Briony pressed her hand to her side to try to still the constant throbbing.

“What happened?” Jack repeated.

“The doctor planted a tracking device in my hip. I cut it out so they couldn’t follow us.”

Jack glared at her. “You did what?”

“Jack,” Ken cautioned.

“What would you have done?” she demanded. He couldn’t yell at her, or she was going to be sick all over him. Her eye throbbed with every step she took, shooting pain through her head, and her stomach kept lurching uncomfortably. She was worried about the babies with Luther sitting on them, in spite of the assurances Jack had given her. “Do we know where we’re going?”

“We’re heading for the pass. We’ll take the canyon route. It looks like a dead end and we can draw them in,” Ken explained. “They’ll think we’re trapped, but we have our own way through the pass.”

“The sun’s up and we’ll need a good start on them,” Jack added. “We should stop and fix your hip and eye. There’s a grove just ahead that has a nice slope to it. We’ll be a little safer there. You’ll need to drink water. If you get tired and need to rest, don’t be stupid—say so.”

“They’re going to hit us with everything they’ve got once we’re in the canyon. You know they still have a helicopter, and they’re going to be using it to track us as well. We have to stay in the trees as much as possible.” Ken took the lead as the trail narrowed. “Watch the low branches, Briony.”

“They’ll be able to see where we go, Jack,” Briony said fearfully.

“We always expected a helicopter,” Jack assured Briony. “We can deal with it. The shrubbery is going to start getting dense. If you need to slow down, we can. The helicopter can’t get in here.”

“We’re leaving tracks,” Briony pointed out.

“We want them coming after us, baby,” Jack said. “No worries. We have an escape route. Ken, did you call in reinforcements?”

Ken shook his head. “Thought about it, but we don’t know, other than our team, who we can trust. If I contact our commander, the admiral, and he’s in on this, we’re screwed.”

Jack glanced down at Briony, assessing the strain on her face. She’d been through quite a bit, and they still had several miles up a steep mountainside to go. She flashed him a wan grin.

“I’m good, Jack. I want to put distance between them and us.”

She didn’t look good to him, and if he took her to a hospital—which he intended to do to check the babies—he was bound to be arrested for domestic violence. She looked as if she’d been in a war. He slowed the pace over several ground-eating strides. Ken glanced sharply at him then looked at Briony’s bent head and kept his mouth shut, but he began to drop back where he could protect his brother and Briony should one of the enhanced soldiers come up on them from behind.

Briony ran for another mile, uphill, her lungs burning and her side cramping. Blood trickled down her hip in a steady stream, and she supported her stomach with one hand. Fear was uppermost in her mind, fear that she would slow Jack and Ken down and they wouldn’t be able to escape the men following them. The helicopter had retreated for a little over an hour to get fuel she presumed, but was back, flying low along the trees in search of them.

Bile rose continually, and she tried desperately to suppress it, but eventually she had no choice. Tears blurring her vision, she halted and bent over, stomach heaving. “Morning sickness. I didn’t eat anything. Sorry.”

Jack’s rifle went to his shoulder and he watched the surrounding trees. Ken kept his back to her, doing the same, their bodies still while their eyes were restless. The next hour passed with a similar pattern. Briony ran as long as she was able before vomiting, the twins running with her and both instantly protecting her while she was sick. She caught the glint of humor in Jack’s mind and glanced suspiciously at his face and then at Ken. Both looked grim, but she wasn’t buying it.

“You’re laughing,” she accused.

“It’s either laugh or cry, baby.” Jack glanced at her. “You have to admit, the situation is different from what we normally do. We should have thought to bring you some crackers.”

“You probably would have thought of it too.” Briony groused, stopping once again to bend over.

Jack knocked into her sideways, sending her flying. She hit the ground hard and lay still while bullets rained down around them. Ken calmly knelt down and sited in on the helicopter, taking his time to locate his target. Jack did the same. There was no wild shooting. It was obvious they believed in making every shot count. Ken fired first, and the man at the machine gun disappeared into the interior of the helicopter, knocked back by the bullet. The second soldier with an automatic crumbled straight to the floor, falling half-in and half-out of the copter.

The pilot veered off quickly, heading out over the canopy of trees to get away from the sharpshooters.

Jack helped Briony to her feet. “Are you all right?”

“I need to rest.”

He glanced at his brother. Ken shook his head.

Jack handed her the canteen. “We can rest in a few minutes, in a place with more cover. Can you make it a few more miles, baby? We’ll slow down and take a few minutes along the way, but we need to get into dense cover. If you don’t think you can, we’ll find a place to make a stand.”

“I’m just worried.” Briony rubbed her hand over her stomach. “I don’t want to lose them.”

Jack placed his hand over hers. “We’re not losing the babies, Briony. They’re tough, just like we are. They’ll hang in there and trust us to get them to safety.”

She touched his face, a light brush of her fingertips, but Jack felt it all the way to his toes. His stomach knotted and his heart did some sort of curious melting thing he didn’t want to identify too closely. He glanced at his brother helplessly.

Damn it, Ken. I’m so fucking in love with her. This isn’t part of Whitney’s experiment; he couldn’t make me feel like this no matter what he planted between us.

I could have told you that. You’ve got it bad, bro. She’s going to wrap you around her little finger, and you’re going to make a bigger jackass of yourself than normal.