Covert Craving (9 page)

Chloe leaned over Lucky’s shoulder and studied the
screens. “Wow, you’ve come a long way from just hacking for free porn.”

Lucky peered down her top. Jealous irritation
overtook Greiff’s good sense, and after he lit the cigarette, he pelted the
smaller man in the head with the lighter. “Look down her shirt again, and I’ll
make your balls useless for a week.”

“Shit, possessive much, man?”

A snarl ripped free of his chest and Lucky ducked
his head. The sound concerned him, along with the crest of emotion behind it,
but he couldn’t control the urge to protect Chloe and warn the other man away
from his territory. “Just stay on target and we won’t have a problem.”

“Right. So they found you two through Spetrino,
but not before Damien completed his mission for the Professor.”

He resisted the urge to smoke the cigarette,
despite the clamor of his body for the nicotine, and instead, held it at head
height, grateful for the smell it gave off. If he stayed in this box of an
apartment much longer, he’d barf for sure.

“Who’s Damien? Daisy Mae?” Chloe tapped the screen
with her dossier on it with her forefinger. “Wow. I’m a completely gullible
idiot.”

The building shook once more, and stacks of paper
piled along the walls cascaded over and spilled across the floor.

“Lucky, you sure this is supposed to be happening?
Are you positive that this location is secure?”

Lucky held his finger in front of his mouth and
crept toward the door with his head cocked to the side. Grieff dropped the
cigarette into a half empty beer bottle, readied his gun, and ushered Chloe
into the bedroom area. The windows had been painted black, so no one could see
in. But that also meant no one could see out.

For once, she didn’t fight him about his bossing
her around and slid under the bed on her belly. He crept back toward the living
room and took a cover in the kitchen just inside the door. It allowed him to
see anyone who came into the apartment while providing a small amount of
protection from gun fire.

Four sharp raps vibrated the door slab. Lucky went
on tip toe to use the peep hole, and relaxed back to his feet.

“It’s Dyson. We’re good man.” He flipped the locks
with pale fingers and opened the door.

Dyson entered as the building shuddered violently.
The crack of stressed beams and breaking glass filled the air. A thick coat of
ash and dirt coated the reptilian man’s form and turned his dark skin grey.

Greiff lowered his gun and wished for a shoulder
holster. He tucked the gun into his waistband with the other he’d picked up
earlier, the metal hard and uncomfortable on his back. “Chloe, it’s clear. You
can come out.”

Dyson hurried to the bank of computer equipment
where Lucky was busy changing out another jump drive. “How much longer?”

Lucky whistled under his breath and closed some of
the open windows on his screens. “Maybe five minutes.”

“Okay. If you can make it faster, do it.” Dyson’s
long, claw tipped fingers dug into the back rest cushion on Lucky’s chair. “I’m
sorry, Detective; I thought you’d have more time to gather your wits. But Major
Rebane is proving more resilient and tactically gifted than I had presumed. It
would have been prudent to kill him at the apartment. You and Chloe will have
to depart as soon as possible.”

Chloe ran into the room and skidded to a stop.
“But Dyson, where are we supposed to go? Lucky was finally giving us some
answers, and I don’t see how we’re going to survive on the run if we don’t know
exactly what we’re up against.”

God, what a woman—smart and keeping it together
despite the fear pouring from her. He strode across the room and stood at her
right side. “Chloe’s right. We have to know what we’re up against, and why, or
we’re dead or captured in hours. And I want to know how you know it was Major
Rebane who visited us.”

The warehouse pulsated and a squealing shriek
followed by thunderous crashes reverberated around them. Lucky yanked one last
flash drive from the computers and rolled backward. “Hit it, Dyson.”

The tall lanky humanoid spat gobs of green mucus
on the equipment. Smoke rose from the disintegrating plastic. “Your questions
about my associations with the major and Del Bosque will have to be put on
hold. This is not the time.”

“Look,” Lucky ran around the room tossing items in
a duffle bag, “I think you know that whatever Del Bosque was doing in his
little experiments messed with our DNA. Changed us at a chromosomal level. So
far, I’ve tracked down information on at least thirteen different summer camps
he ran. All in the same year. Most of the kids who went to those camps died.
They developed diseases from fatal gene flaws. But some of us lived.”

“Yeah, okay fine. But if the government was
involved in all this, a long term experiment that has taken years and a huge
cover up and millions of dollars to run, why would they be trying to kill us
now? It doesn’t make any sense.”

Dyson turned to them. “I’m afraid they’re after your
child. They didn’t make a move until they had evidence that you’d consummated
your relationship, correct?”

Chloe made a strangled sound. “We used protection,
not that it’s anyone’s business.”

“You’ll be pregnant within the week. It takes some
time for the swimmers to make it up your love tunnel, but once they do, you’ll
be
whoop
.” Lucky used his hands to gesticulate an enormous distended
stomach.

“What part of we used protection don’t you
understand?”

He wanted to console her, reassure her pregnancy was
off the table, but the thought of having a baby floated into his head and
became lodged there. Instead of fear or depression, the idea appealed. “I think
they’re right sweetheart. That squad could have caught up to us in the building
or the sewer. They held back. Even when they shot at us it was more like they
were herding us in the direction they wanted us to go than trying to actually
shoot us.”

“Jake, don’t tell me you’re buying this whole
thing. I am not having a baby. We are not having a baby. We used a rubber,
remember?”

Suspicion crept in as he sorted through all the facts
they’d been presented with. He started to see a larger picture more clearly.
“Daisy Mae gave you those condoms, didn’t she?”

Chloe’s face paled and her hands shook.

“This Professor Del Bosque wants us to have a kid.
And Spetrino led the government to us because he was playing both sides. The
little bit of information I got through on the screen there suggests Project
Genesis is some kind of super human baby factory experiment. And they probably
used our escape to find Dyson’s warehouse here.” Grudging admiration for the
strategist who’d orchestrated the moves formed.

He led her to the doorway between the kitchen and
living room area to give her space from the other men and the illusion of
privacy. It was also a strategic location to try and shield her from falling
debris. An enormous explosion resonated and the floor canted to the left. Poor
Chloe had a shell-shocked expression on her face and he hated knowing there
wasn’t anything he could do to alleviate her confusion and alarm.

“It goes deeper than that. I made you a copy of
the information I’ve gathered so far.” Lucky tossed a flash drive to him. “I
haven’t figured out why the government broke off the project, but Del Bosque is
on the run. He’s locked down the facility in North Dakota, and I think the only
reason you haven’t run into his security forces yet are because they’re tangled
with the boys from the government.”

Ceiling tiles fell to the floor.

“Actually, I believe Del Bosque’s force hung back
and allowed me to do their dirty work for them. Rather smart, considering. No
risk of losing their own men and no battle fatigue.” Dyson smiled, his sharp,
pointy teeth gleamed, and Greiff fought a bone deep revulsion and fear. “They’re
in the sewers below us right now exploding charges in an attempt to escape the
cave-in I set.”

“We have to get out of here, right now. If I am
pregnant or will be or whatever, my kid is not ending up in the hands of these
people.” She clenched her hands into fists and fought the tears pooled in her
lower eyelids.

He reached back and withdrew a weapon with each
hand. The blade he’d taken off the soldier from the apartment had gotten
dropped in the sewers somewhere. “You know how to shoot?”

“Yep. My dad used to take me to the range. He was
real big on self-defense with extreme prejudice.” She accepted the 9mm and
checked the safety. “I never understood why he made such a big deal out of me
learning how to shoot. Now, I feel like I owe him an apology for being such a
pain in the ass.”

“If you could shoot, why the hell were you taking
risks running around unarmed and taking out petty thieves?” Disbelief and
exasperation caught up to him, and he wanted to shake her. Hard.

“I can’t go invisible with a gun. The gun would be
floating around in the air and give me away. Plus I didn’t want to kill anyone.
Just make them sorry for being a douche bag.”

Lucky and Dyson laughed, but Greiff was ready to
lose his shit. She was nuts, and he’d spend some time making sure she
understood there wouldn’t be any more vigilante nonsense where she put herself
in harm’s way.

He tried to convince himself it was for her own
good, but deep down he knew it was because the thought of losing her petrified him.

Damien Childs waited in the airport terminal for
his flight to board. A late night flight to Missouri for his next assignment. Grit
stung his eyes from left over make-up caked to his eyelashes and lids. Daisy
Mae had been one of his more flamboyant characters. He acknowledged he’d
genuinely miss Chloe, but the wardrobe and grooming upkeep issues he was glad
to be rid of. He’d glued on individual fake hairs into his eyebrows to thicken
them up to an average man’s appearance in the bathroom. A complete pain in the
ass, but necessary to help his newest persona be convincing. Not shaving his
face twice a day and having his legs waxed would be wonderful.

Travelers and airport staff wandered past him in a
flow that slowed to a trickle or clogged the terminal to almost a standstill.
Couples held hands or bickered as they strode to connecting flights or their
cars. Toddlers wandered by, their sleepy eyes half lidded, or were carried
along with other baggage. The scenes brought a familiar ache to his chest.

He opened the camera gallery on his phone and
flipped through each picture within for an hour. The Professor had promised him
one last job, and then he would be free to leave the compound with his wife,
Jasmine, and their daughter, Eva.

He traced the line of Jasmine’s jaw in his
favorite photo. She’d turned toward the river in the background and had a
flower nestled into her hair behind her ear. It’d been a magic day, and he went
back to it often in his memories. The soft swell of her pregnant belly added to
her allure. All her long, straight black hair hung down her back in a silken
curtain and her eyes shone.

Her natural beauty astounded everyone around her.
The first time he’d seen her, he’d been dumbstruck.

The day captured in the photo seemed like ages
ago, but it’d only been four months. The brief video chats they’d had since
then hadn’t been enough, but it was all they were allowed.

He’d wanted out of working for the program as an
active reconnaissance agent. The skills he’d developed as a result of his
tenure in one of the summer camps gave him attributes suited to corporate
espionage or spying in an information gathering role. And he’d spent the first
ten years doing that without complaint. No friends or family to fall back on, he
floated from one assignment to the next, anchorless and alone.

Over time, the demands on his intelligence
gathering became more invasive and manipulative. He balked and argued with his
handlers. Even tried to escape his life via suicide. He’d believed nothing
existed that could hold him to the Earth. He had nothing and no one. Even
Chloe, who he’d lived with for years, didn’t know who he truly was. Depression
swept him into its tide and he let it drown him.

Until her. Until Jasmine. Everything changed when
he met Jasmine. He realized now the fatal mistake of falling in love. Before
Jasmine, he’d had nothing and no one of real value in his life.

Now, the Professor had something to hold onto and
use to control him. If he did not deliver on the assignments given him, Jasmine
and their daughter would be gone forever.

Eva, the baby he’d never seen in person. Deep down,
he knew that each assignment would blend into another, peppered with short
visits to see his wife and maybe his child.

Until he got killed.

The flight attendants announced that business class
could begin boarding, and he slid his phone into his pocket. The briefcase he’d
acquired added to the new persona of a young, eager lawyer. Along with his
tailored business suit and a fresh hair cut, he slid into the role with such
ease no one would know it for a ruse.

The walkway to the plane bounced under his
measured steps. He tucked the briefcase into the overhead compartment and folded
his tall frame into the window seat. Twilight was falling outside and he let
his mind wander through the information he’d been given for his next
assignment.

A tall, muscular man in a dark suit slid into the
seat next to him. Damien took in the short, tight hair cut and mirrored
sunglasses the passenger wore and unease trickled through him.

“Mr. Childs, I have a proposition for you.” The
man held out a plain white business card and he took it automatically. “Log on
to this website URL using the password on the card. All the instructions you
need will be there. Once you long on, you will have thirty minutes to examine
the contents of the website.”

The man stood up, his large silver wristwatch
gleamed with a dull glow in the low airplane lighting. Damien didn’t say a
word.

“We can help you get your wife and daughter back.”
He strode back to the doorway of the plane and slipped past the stewardess into
the retractable walkway.

The white card had two lines of text printed on the
front side in black ink. He pushed the button overhead to indicate he needed
assistance and requested a bottle of water and cup of ice.

When the items arrived, he filled the cup, tore
the card into bits, and dunked them beneath the surface of the liquid.

By the time the plane taxied in Missouri, the card
would be nothing but pulp.

Thoughts tangled themselves out in his head in an
unending mess without beginning or end. At last they were airborne. He closed
his eyes and pretended to sleep, the plastic cup clutched in both hands on his
lap.

***

“Run, Chloe. Faster.” Greiff careened into the
wall as the building shuddered and the floor canted to the left.

Her shoulder ached, and sharp pieces of debris
embedded in her feet as they flew down the hall. With his longer legs, Greiff
outpaced her. Adrenaline kicked in to overdrive as a section of the ceiling
gave way.

Lucky sprinted in front of them all, fast as a,
well, rabbit with a hungry predator on its heels.

Dyson caught her around the waist and threw her
over his shoulder and she screamed. Shock contorted Greiff’s face, but he
recovered and sprinted in step with their ally.

“Follow Lucky down those steps. Take them to the
second floor. We’re going to have to jump for it.” Dyson shouted at him and
didn’t even sound winded.

Explosions ripped a hole in the floor behind them.
They slammed through a door at the end of the hall, and as her head cleared the
frame, she glimpsed three people in black commando gear scaling the hole in the
floor.

“Faster, Dyson. Move faster.” Her heart raced and
terror engulfed her. Greiff was a few steps behind, and dread he’d be captured
or shot speared her. “Damn it Greiff get the lead out.”

He cleared the door moments after them, his focus
concentrated on the stairs, and she felt like she could breathe again.

Their shoes made dull thuds on the cement steps as
they raced to lower floors.

“Hang on Chloe.”

Dyson leapt from the landing to the next one down
and her light grip slipped off his belt. He impacted the floor and pain spread
in a starburst from her abdomen. Twice more he used the same action. Greiff ran
down after them, skipping three and four steps at a time as he came. They
followed Lucky through an exit door and met up with him at an open window.
Lucky slung his bag over his shoulder and peeked out the window from the cover
of the wall.

“It’s clear for now.” He climbed onto the sill and
prepared to jump.

Greiff caught up and stopped him. He set the
safety on his gun. “Let me go first. Chloe, set your safety.”

She’d set it before they started running, but
didn’t say anything. If it made Greiff feel better to boss her around and take
care of her, she didn’t care. Eventually she’d have to set him straight if he
got too domineering, but armed, dangerous men were in pursuit of them. Arguing
might get them captured or killed.

Dyson put her on the floor in time for her to
witness Greiff launch himself out the window. She tucked the weapon into the
front of her pants and hoped like hell the safety didn’t release when she
landed.

“Holy shit.” The utterance escaped her mouth in a
shocked whisper.

The cold, strangely smooth skin of Dyson’s hands
in hers surprised her. Scales coated his palms, and she’d thought they’d be
rough, but they weren’t.

Lucky snorted. “See you at the bottom, Chloe.”

He leapt from the window sill. The unmistakable
resonance of gun shots pierced the building’s groans and shrieks as it
continued to crumble.

Dyson jerked and hissed through clenched jaws.
“Miss Saunders, I apologize in advance. This may be frightening and painful,
but you will survive it.”

“What?”

Translucent vertical membranes closed over his
eyes and he kissed the back of her right hand. In a lightning fast move, he
grabbed her up and dangled her outside the window. “Be brave, Chloe. This is
the hardest part and then you’re free.”

Air swirled around her legs and whipped her hair
into her eyes. Empty space opened up below her and she kicked her legs ineffectually.
Cold, absolute, primal dread gripped her. “No. Dyson. No. Please. It’s too
high. The movies lie about this stuff. A human can’t fall from this high up
without getting hurt really bad. Greiff and Lucky are crazy. They’re probably
de—”

“You’re smart and capable. I’m sorry for this, but
it’s the safest way out. I’d throw you free if I could, but it seems one of our
pursuers is a rather good shot. Greiff is waiting for you at the bottom.”

And he let go.

She didn’t have time to scream. Fright and surprise
froze her lungs, and then pain washed over her in a black tar undertow from her
feet and legs on impact. Large chunks of concrete and rocks surrounded her. She
tried to move her legs to stand, and fought to stay conscious. Agony spread
from her lower extremities. A glance revealed shredded pant legs, and the white
of bone popped through her flesh into the air.

Greiff scooped her up and scrambled away from the
building. Inhuman roars she recognized from the sewer pierced her ears and then
the chugging of a boat engine registered. She kept her gaze focused on Greiff’s
face—his stubble and strong jaw, the dark blue eyes and the straight lines of
his eyebrows. The world swayed back and forth before he released her into a
cold vinyl seat.

Tears streamed down her face and her teeth
chattered. The hot stickiness of her blood flowed over her legs.

Greiff and Lucky argued somewhere to her left, but
she couldn’t concentrate on their words. The engine noise drowned out most of
what they said. Or perhaps that was the whoosh of blood in her ears. She was
dimly aware they raced into the open water of a river.

Greiff came to her with a blanket and a huge first
aid kit, white lines etched in his face around his eyes and mouth. She reached
up to smooth them out and he kissed her palm. The chattering got worse and her
heart fluttered.

“Honey, I’m so sorry. But your legs are broken,
and I have to set them. They’ll heal up, but if I straighten the bones now,
it’ll make sure that they heal right.”

She attempted to nod but couldn’t. The grim line
of his mouth flattened down until his lips almost disappeared. He wrapped her
in the soft, clean blanket and she clamped her fingers around the edges.

The blade of his pocket knife sliced through the
remnants of her pant legs. Colorful swear words peppered his language as he
verbally castrated everyone they jointly knew. Dark blue eyes caught her stare
and held it as he gripped both sides of her right calf.

“This one’s worse. So I’m doing it first.”

He moved one hand to her thigh above her knee, and
the over cradled the muscle of her lower leg. He pulled down, and bones popped
and ground together. She clamped her lips tight and tried not to screech or cry,
but failed.

“It’s okay baby. You scream if you need to. One
more time.” He flexed her foot into a normal position, and the world went fuzzy
around the edges.

Vomit raced up her throat and she turned her head
to the side so it didn’t end up all over her chest. Tight bands of gauze
constricted her leg. He finished wrapping the wounds, and the appendage felt
better. Pressure and splinters of pain from bone shards grinding against each
other and the muscles decreased.

The long, capable fingers she’d so admired now
were instruments of torture as he straightened three of her toes and dug glass
and rocks from the soles of her feet.

“Damn Dyson. I’ll kill that lizard mother fucker
for doing this to you. I should have held you when I jumped. I thought I could
catch you. Didn’t think he’d drop you straight down.”

“Shot. Dyson…shot.” He repositioned her on the
seat and white spots swam over her vision. A whimper escaped despite her
efforts to contain the noise.

“I still should have jumped with you.” He clasped
her left leg. “This one’s not broken in as many places, but the fracture is a
compound one. You landed on a bunch of cement slabs with iron reinforcement
bars sticking out of it. Glass everywhere. It’s amazing the rest of your body
isn’t banged up as well. I’m so sorry.”

“Damn it, Jake.” Labored breaths punctuated her
words. Exhaustion and pain tried to suck her under. If he kept blaming himself
for her injuries, they’d be screwed. He had to stay focused on the task of
getting them to safety. “Stop. Fix it. I thought you were some kind of Army
tough guy. A real bad ass.”

He shook his head and met her stare. “Last big
one, sweetheart.”

The shredded muscles felt like they were on fire
as the bone moved back to its correct position. A fresh gout of blood poured
from the wound. Glass clinked as it bounced off the floor of the boat. He wound
more gauze around packed up four by fours and tied it off.

“Jake. My pelvis hurts. Lay me flat?” Jake would
take care of her. She trusted him. His face was the last thing she saw as conscious
thought fled and emptiness replaced the pain blazing in an uncontrolled river.