Shadows to Light (Shadows of Justice 5) (5 page)

"Report."

He clicked the mic so they knew he was in control and turned off his night vision. The last thing he needed was back up to find him like this. They might know his nervous system was jacked up, but they didn't have to know why.

He stared down at her face blurred by the shadows and stroked his thumb over her pale cheek.

"Don't."

"Please." He needed to kiss her more than he needed answers. More than he needed to breathe. Slowly, giving her time to stop him, he lowered his mouth to meet hers. It felt as if time itself stopped for their untimely reunion. He felt the tremor, then the sigh as she gave in. Her lips were warm and mobile, her tongue a velvet stroke of heat
against his own.

He felt her sink into every part of him, understood he could never have too much of her. Wondered how he'd managed even a day without her. Sliding his hand into her hair, he shifted, changed the angle and took the kiss deeper still.

So warm, so intent on her he didn't notice the blast of cold air.

"Christ almighty, Jameson."

His CO's voice had him leaping off her like a teenager caught pawing daddy's little girl on the porch. Squinting, he put himself in front of Mira and held up a hand to deflect the wicked beam of Callahan's flash light.

"What the hell kind of interrogation is that?"

Was Callahan laughing? "Uh, no interrogation sir. That is, I know this woman."

"Yeah.
It looks that way. Both of you on your feet so we can sort this out."

Jameson rolled to his feet and reached for Mira, but she dodged him.

Frustrated, he turned back only to see Callahan secure the door and place a stealth device on the glass rather than lead them out immediately. "Sir?"

"Oh, you'd rather discuss this at HQ?"

"No, sir."

"This way."
Striding to an interior exam room, the CO closed the door and hit the lights. The old fluorescent tubes hummed and flickered in protest, but managed to function eventually.

Inside, Jameson turned at Mira's small sound of shock. "What is it?" But her eyes were narrowed on Callahan. "You know him?"

"We've met a time or two," Callahan answered. "However, I did not realize the two of you were acquainted."

Jameson gritted his teeth against the urge to provide an immediate explanation. "You can kick me off the mission, sir, but I'd appreciate it if you let her go on about her business."

"Absolutely not."

"She's got nothing to do with this."

"Really. Why don't you ask her?"

Jameson watched her, watched clouds of uncertainty and irritation roll across her quiet features.

Callahan addressed Mira next. "Took you long enough to get here."

"You broke me out of the inquiry?"

"It seems I contributed," the CO said with a smirk.

What the hell were they talking about?

"Well, what do you want?" She crossed her arms and looked for all the world like she'd rather not be bothered with any of this.

"Same thing you want, I suspect."

"Doubtful."

Jameson stood apart from them, baffled and feeling useless. "How do you know each other?"

"Various settings and assignments. Though I wouldn't expect the lieutenant to recall."

"Lieutenant?"
Jameson echoed.

"Not anymore."

Callahan glared at Mira. "Want to tell me how you're connected to Jameson here?"

"No."

"Fine."

To Jameson's further shock, Callahan let that one go.

"Do you have the contacts on you or just the key?"

"I have the contacts.
And the cell card."

"Good. Mira Luther, you're hereby reinstated to the United States Army at your previous rank of first lieutenant."

"No, thank you."

"Too bad.
Your country needs you." He held up a hand to silence her protest. "More importantly your father needs you."

Jameson thought she might faint, her face paled so quickly. He reached out when she swayed and she didn't reject his support this time. It only worried him more.

"Where is he?"

"About a block over.
Someone's reopened a lab and put him to work."

"Someone other than the government?"

Hearing the steel creeping back into her voice pleased him, then the words sank in. "Hold on. Dr. Luther is your father?"

Mira and Callahan nodded in unison.

He could hardly be irritated that he didn't know. There hadn't been time to converse back in Leavenworth with all the chaos of that moment. No there'd only been time to fall in love.

Wait. What bullshit was that?
He wasn't in love, he was just infatuated. In lust. With a woman of serious secrets who could kiss him half blind. Under normal circumstances they probably wouldn't even have met. And why did that thought depress him?

"Jameson!" He jerked to attention. "Sorry to interrupt your daydream," the CO gave him a glacier cold look, "but we need you to pitch in here."

"Yes, sir."

Callahan swore. "For the mere joy of repeating
myself, Mira believes there might be something here in the office that will help Dr. Luther. Gather up anything of interest and let's get the hell out of here before we're discovered."

Jameson tried – and failed – to act like he knew what the hell that meant.

"You're with me," Callahan growled. "Don't make me beat that moony look off your face," he said as he led Jameson into another room and hit another wall panel to bring the lights up. "Jackpot," he muttered.

If the jackpot was outdated medical equipment, Jameson thought. It looked more like a medical ghost town. The dusty, vacated diagnostic stations seemed to be waiting patiently for the return of technicians long gone.

"You want the equipment?"

Callahan shot him a look. "No. I want data, files, anything that will tell me why Luther's cooperating with
Montalbano."

Jameson dug into the storage cabinet under a bank of microscopes. "You think it goes back this far?"

"There's a reason Luther wanted his daughter to have the key to this place."

Both men knew how to toss a room and how to make it look like nothing was disturbed. They both knew where people liked to stash secrets. Working systematically, they searched for hidden locations based on what they knew of Dr. Luther. If nothing turned up, the next phase would go faster as they looked in more obvious and common hiding places.

Within minutes, Jameson had a feel for what did and didn't belong in any given part of the room. Every cabinet he opened, every drawer he ran his fingers over, under and behind, only reinforced his opinion that what they were looking for wasn't here.

"Want a candy cane? There's a whole box down here," Jameson said. "Why didn't anyone take all this stuff? There are enough gloves here to keep a field surgeon happy."

"Department of Defense isn't so keen on second hand supplies," Callahan replied.

Jameson snorted.
"Since when?" At least that earned a staccato burst of laughter from his CO. He took another risk. "When do you think she'll find whatever it is you're letting her find?"

Callahan grunted. "Look at you with your brain back online.
Shouldn't be too much longer."

"You plan to confiscate it?"

"You plan to stop me if I say yes?"

"Not if you let her go on her way."

"Don't know if that's an option." Callahan examined a microscope, reached into his pocket, and put a tracking tag on it. "We need her."

Jameson got the feeling there was more to the 'we' than the current mission, or even her father. He'd never balked at orders or put a mission in jeopardy before Mira, but it looked like he was about to go two for two.

Some gut instinct inside him refused to let her get caught in harm's way.

Chapter 4

Mira wasn't sure where or how Callahan was connected to this, but having him close didn't make her feel any better about the situation.

She didn't like the way he phrased things. Her dad wanted her to have this key. Fine. But that left out the crucial detail about who'd arranged for her to receive it. Easier to believe her mom had a motive to pass it on, but based on the current situation, she wouldn't put any antics past Callahan.

She remembered his hard, battle weary expression from the field hospital in Africa, then more recently right here in Chicago. And they'd both done a good job ignoring their history when he'd pulled some serious strings to get her assigned to the case when he'd brought a woman in his protective custody to Mercy.

So he'd known where to go, how to find her. More than a little scary since she didn't know if he got his intel from some Army database or the elders of her order.

She went absolutely
still, stopped dead in the process of exploring the desk as she considered it could all be an elaborate set up. Did the Five want her to find whatever her father may have hidden here? Were enforcers even now hovering outside, waiting for her to emerge?

"God!
Could you be any more paranoid?" Talking to herself wasn't the best sign, but it helped her shake free of that sucking downward spiral.

She wasn't good at this. Give her a broken leg, internal bleeding, or both, and she could reach out and make it better. She didn't know how to play this covert ops pseudo-spy game.

Callahan was lying, possibly only by omission, but she didn't believe she could be of help to her country or her father. Unless either or both were broken or bleeding. The resulting image of Uncle Sam with a broken leg and a bloody forehead, created a ripple of laughter that shot around the empty room in a rather eerie, hysterical way.

She waved off the curious gazes of Callahan and Jameson, when they checked on her, but she couldn't grab enough air to explain. And when she imagined their expressions if she did explain, knowing they wouldn't understand, she laughed harder still.

"Stress," Callahan said to Jameson.

She couldn't argue, even if she'd been able to speak.

"Are you done?"

Mira shook her head.

"Can you finish?"

She nodded.

Callahan rolled his eyes. "Hurry. We've got to move." Turning on his heel, he forced Jameson to leave as well. They were surely convinced she wasn't up to the task. They'd be right.

Tears of stress or laughter blurred her vision and she dabbed them away with her sleeve. This was serious stuff she'd been dragged into. She had to get a grip.

Holding her breath, she envisioned calm ocean waves lapping at the edges of a white sand beach. She sputtered, forced herself to breathe evenly. Timed the inhale and exhale to that ocean tide in her mind. Relieved when it worked, she wondered if hysteria could be remedied like hiccups or hyperventilating.

The mental distraction, looking at the physical manifestation of her stress as if she were studying a patient, restored her sense of self and purpose. Now preventing another overload was the key to finishing the search quickly. With renewed determination, she looked around the office her father had shared with senior staff a couple decades ago.

One problem at a time...

Aside from the obvious simplicity of the key and lock instead of a card or biometric security, why did she need to be here?
And why now?

She wished she'd paid more attention when there was gossip or news about her dad, but no, she'd tuned it out like the hurt and lonely little girl she'd been.

According to Callahan her father was only a block away. Caught up in something, definitely, but he was in the immediate area.

Getting nowhere with her standard exploration of the abandoned office, she decided to see if the contacts helped at all.

It took longer for her eyes to adjust to the lenses this time and just when she thought it was useless, the tiny display flickered to life. However they worked, whoever programmed them, it seemed the lenses became an interface between the wearer and the environment.

She turned a slow circle, testing the display. Two yellow dots blinked into view where she expected Jameson and Callahan to be. How did the contact lenses know they were 'good guys'? Not the point. She didn't see any red dots closing in on her position, but parts of the room lit up, reminiscent of the way her talents illuminated a fever spike and break in a patient. Suddenly, she knew her father had made these lenses, wondered why she hadn't considered it before. He was likely the only researcher in the world who could so seamlessly marry technology with the human body.

"All right, Dad. What am I after here?" Focusing on the 'hot spots', she pushed the rest of her questions out of her mind and searched again.

The edge of the desk was bright and she ran her fingers lightly over the surface, smiling when the display reacted.

"Having fun?"

"It's like tossing a pebble into a pond," she answered Callahan.

"You're using the contacts."

"Yes. You're not showing up as hostile."

"Surprised?"

"A little," she admitted, moving on to the next hot spot. "There might be a setting for moody.
Or irritating."

"You'll have to let me know." Her display showed Jameson hovering behind Callahan. "If you don't have anything, we need to blow this pop stand."

"One more minute." There was something at the wall too. Bigger, but with the same sort of sheen as the hot spot on the desk. "Oh."

"What?" Both men inched into the room.

Mira crossed back to the desk and fiddled with the bright spot again. Her display registered the click at the same time as her fingers and brain. "Wow. That's slick." She urged the hidden panel open and stared down at a key ring. Her dad's old key ring. Lifting it out, intending to take it to her mom as a memory, she heard another click across the room.

The temperature in the office dropped as the larger hot spot on the wall retracted.

"Holy shit."

Callahan and Jameson were already at the doorway. "
A pressure lock with a wireless sensor?"

"And still operational."

"Must have been the first of its kind," Callahan mused. He leaned into the secret passageway. "This must be why we never see them coming or going. Why didn't our intel find this?"

"And what building are they using instead?"

"One way to find out." Callahan started through the opening.

"No!" Mira yanked Callahan back and eased the door closed.
"Shh. Red dots."

"Huh?"

She pointed to her eye. "Display. Enemy."

He nodded, giving Jameson a signal that sent him back out to watch the entrance they'd used. "Stay with me," he hissed at Mira.

She nodded.

"Are they in the tunnels?"

She nodded again. It was no good telling herself to breathe. There was a certain detached calm necessary for this type of work and she simply did not have it. She'd rather pit her skills against a malignant tumor than deal with this.

Jameson and Callahan had the skills and obvious practice with this sort of thing. And more power to them. She vowed if they got her out of this alive, she'd give them the key and contacts and tell them to say hello when they found her father.

Jameson crept back, and using only hand signals, told Callahan something that didn't make the man happy. The plan he laid out in plain, whispered English didn't make her happy. Jameson's scowl implied he didn't approve either, but unless she wanted to completely burn their operation, one designed to help her father, she didn't have much choice. Callahan was already stripping off his uniform shirt to reveal the dark fabric she recognized as a stealth suit underneath.

Shoulders back, she walked to the door and glanced over as Jameson and Callahan flickered out of sight.
Amazing things, stealth suits.

As directed, she retrieved the device Callahan had placed on the office door when he'd caught her and Jameson in the middle of that kiss...

She put that thought away, saving it to contemplate during the next inquiry. Because going out onto the deserted edge of campus as bait was surely a one way ticket back to the judgment of the Five.

* * *

Callahan knew better than to ask Jameson to do anything other than 'rescue' the girl. While he'd do his duty and follow any order, Callahan knew the Soldier's mind would be on Mira.

Jameson probably wouldn't be convinced, but leading this op while his wife was carrying their first baby wasn't Callahan's idea of good timing. But Dr. Luther's technology had saved his ass more than once in the field. And his wife had been patient, logical, and annoyingly understanding when he got tapped for the job.

Hoping her understanding held out if he got himself lost in the tunnels under the campus, he brought her face to mind and told her he loved her. Then he headed into the tunnel with the confidence that with his wife's special gift, if he did get lost, she'd find him.

* * *

Jameson about couldn't stand it. Watching Mira walk out there into the cold, the dark, and the danger was the hardest thing ever. At least the stealth suit hid most of his fidgeting. When the access door opened and shut a moment later as the CO left to pursue whoever was in the tunnel, Jameson bolted after Mira.

There was a light snow falling, which helped him pick up her trail, but made the stealth suit less effective. He felt like the invisible man dusted with powdered sugar when he saw the way the fat white flakes outlined his arm before melting away.

He'd tracked plenty of bad guys before he'd even been introduced to the biometric miracle of Dr. Luther's stealth suit and he put all those accumulated skills to use now.

Mira was supposed to walk back toward the populated part of campus so if they closed in on her too quickly, she had options to prevent her capture. A capture he knew she believed was inevitable. A capture he refused to allow.

He'd give Callahan an earful about using her for bait later. The tactical side of him understood the CO's decision, but the previously unknown emotional side of him wanted to rip something apart. So when he spotted the two men hassling her, he grinned at the perfect outlet for his pent up frustration.

Sound carried on the clear, cold air, but as he closed in, Jameson didn't worry overmuch about their debate about handling 'it' here. He focused on handling them.

He changed his stride and let them hear his footfalls as he approached. He smiled when Mira used the distraction to throw an elbow and twist free of the bastard holding her.

Good girl.

He threw an uppercut into the diaphragm of closest opponent, followed up with a knee strike into his face as he doubled over. Blood spattered across the snowy path, then poured through the guys hands as he fell to the ground.

Trusting Mira to run for campus security as planned, he
turned, ready to plant a boot to the knee of the other guy. Instead he took a hard punch to the kidneys.

Damn snow.

He let the momentum of the punch carry him, and just managed to escape the kick to the gut while he was down. "If it's dirty you want, I can do that." Jameson grabbed the closest ankle and rolled into him, forcing his knee to give. "Aww. You scream like a girl."

He was ready to cuff them to the nearest lamp post when the first guy rolled to his feet, bouncing like a boxer. "Show yourself."

"What the hell?" The blood was only abstract art in the snow and the nose looked like it had never met a knee. He didn't know what was happening, so he decided to be grateful for the additional workout.

The guy kicked at the snow, clearly trying to get a line on Jameson, so Jameson threw a roundhouse kick into the guy's ribs, just to make his position clear.

To his continued amazement, the guy with the busted leg was back up and, aside from a limp, he looked willing to go a few more rounds.

Fine by him.
He hoped Mira didn't find security too quickly as he set out to tune these two up right.

Another day, another place, he'd just pop out the damn disc and play fair, but he wasn't in the mood. He moved in close,
close enough to know the first guy liked spearmint and landed a punch to his rib cage.

He ducked and spun away, tossing Mr. Limp into Mr. Mint. They scrambled up, swore in his general direction and lunged as if they had radar.

He absorbed the flurry, eagerly rose to the challenge, and rode the adrenaline. A punch in one direction, a knee strike or kick in the other, he battled on, consistently gaining an edge only to have them stumble back into the fray.

He wasn't sure who was who after a moment, but he put everything he had behind a kick to the head and hoped that would keep one of them down long enough to finish this.

But the one standing landed his own lucky punch, knocking the stealth disc right out of his mouth.