Tainted Hearts (24 page)

Marc chuckled. “Showers are remarkably
ineffective where we’re concerned.”

She couldn’t argue with that. Still the
memories made her smile. Picking up her vidcom, she scrolled
through the message log. “Shit,” she muttered.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s a message from Job.” She sat on the
side of the bed, angling her vidcom so Marc could see Job’s leering
face and activated the message.

“I apologize for my rude behavior,” Job
begun. “I have no excuse. I was intoxicated by your unique beauty
and I know I pushed too hard.”

She paused the message. “Sounds suspiciously
like an excuse, you freak.”

“Play the rest,” Marc prompted.

Reactivating the message, she glared at
Job’s miniature image, while he babbled on. “I hope you can forgive
my zeal and will consider our conversation.” He glanced away from
the camera, looking downright miserable.

“Good Lord, he should be on the stage.” She
shook her head, amazed by effectiveness of his deception.

“I want to see you again. Please give me the
opportunity to showcase my gentle side.”

She’d laugh, but her heart thudded
uncomfortably at the thought of facing him again.

“Delete the message,” Marc said softly.
“You’re not going back.”

“What?” She deactivated her vidcom and
pivoted toward him. “I have to go back. What about Rahab? What
about Final PUREification? This isn’t over. I’m prepared to see it
through.”

“Well I’m not!” He pulled her into his arms,
pressing her tightly against his chest. “I can’t lose you. I’ll
work with Phil and Bettencourt. We’ll bring down PURE but you’re
out of this now.”

She eased away from his chest and smiled
into his eyes. His concern warmed her, soothed her, still she
remained wary, attune to the danger. “They won’t let you beyond the
lobby. How are you going to bring PURE down? Call this security
expert of yours. See what he suggests.”

They showered and dressed before Tuesday
managed to convince him to page Phil. Marc remained adamant that
she have nothing more to do with the operation and Tuesday insisted
just as strongly that there was no operation without her.

Marc used his vidcom to contact Phil, though
he activated audio only. Tuesday was curious about this phantom
tutor who had kept Marc from death. Would she ever meet him
face-to-face?

“I hate to argue with my employer, but your
lady friend is right. Considering our recent setbacks, she really
is our best chance.” Phil concluded after Marc summarized the
latest developments.

Marc closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Were you able to locate your missing
associate?” Marc had warned her not to mention specific names.

“No, ma’am, which is another reason my
employer can’t go anywhere near the Tower of Babel.”

The code name made her smile.

“The disciple is still AWOL?” Marc sounded
shocked.

“It’s worse than that, I’m afraid. All of
the expected departure points have been checked to no avail. My
fear is that the disciple has been returned to his assignment
without his consent.”

Translation—Job had Marc’s operative.
Tuesday crossed her arms over her chest. This couldn’t be good.

“If his cover’s blown, my lady friend isn’t
having any more to do with any of this.”

“I understand your concern, sir, but the
disciple had no specific information incriminating your lady
friend. Everything he knows increases the danger to you. I’ll
monitor the situation from the shadows. I suggest you proceed with
my old friend. He’s a regular bastard, but he’s good at what he
does.”

“Unacceptable.” Marc raked his hair with one
hand, frustration hardening his expression. “Can you get me into
the Tower of Babel if your old friend’s operation falls apart?”

“Not undetected.”

“I’m talking contingency plan for a worst
case scenario.”

A long pause followed, then Phil said, “The
disciple provided us with enough information to construct such a
plan. But I’m not willing to send you in alone any more than you’re
willing to part with your lady friend.”

Marc smiled. “Enjoying that fat paycheck too
much?”

A muffled laugh came across the vidcom.
“Contact my old friend. Find something objectionable in his plan
and storm out. I’ll meet you at the tram station behind the Tower
of Babel.”

“Copy that. Have there been any developments
with my lady friend’s relative?”

Tension gathered in Tuesday’s stomach. She’d
almost forgotten she’d asked Marc to keep tabs on Sydney. Just the
thought of Job touching her made Tuesday want to scream. The
thought of him touching anyone was disturbing.

“According to the message sent to her
employer, the relative isn’t feeling well.”

Marc’s brow knitted and he glanced at
Tuesday. “The relative hasn’t left her home?”

“No unauthorized personnel have gone into or
out of the building. Is there some reason to believe she isn’t
ill?”

“No. I just don’t want to let anything slip
through the cracks.”

“Understood.” There was a short pause. “I’ll
set this up for you, but I need something in return.”

“I gather this isn’t a monetary
condition?”

“No, sir. It’s imperative that I remain in
the shadows. You cannot mention me to my old friend.”

“Copy that,” Marc said. “You can depend on
my discretion.”

“Cobra out.”

Tuesday peered at the speck in the center of
General Bettencourt’s palm. Even knowing where to look, she could
barely see it. “Job checked me with a handheld scanner last time.
What if he does so again?”

The general chuckled. The corners of his
eyes crinkled and he seemed almost pleasant. “Do you honestly
believe something this sophisticated will be detected by a handheld
scanner? My toys are more expensive than Job’s.”

Marc had notified the general that Job made
contact with her and Bettencourt arrived at their hotel room half
an hour later.

“Okay, so we can monitor everything that
happens to her,” Marc put in. “How will that help if things turn
ugly?” He stayed a step back from them, but his gaze assessed each
move Bettencourt made.

“If she goes in alone, Job will be more apt
to trust her,” the general pointed out. He cupped her hand and
carefully tumbled the transmitter into her palm. “Wear something
that buttons up the front. Dark buttons work best. We can monitor
her transmission from the air or put down out of sight of the
stronghold. Their security relies primarily on audio/visual
surveillance. I have access to satellite imaging. It’s not a fair
fight.”

“Then why didn’t you squash him like a bug a
long time ago?” Tuesday closed her hand around the tiny
transmitter.

“He hasn’t broken any laws that we can
prove. We have suspicions and theories, but even Raeanne is there
of her own free will.”

“What about Raeanne’s fiancé?” she
argued.

“We can’t prove it was Job.”

“He lets his minions do the dirty work,”
Marc agreed. “Keeps all the blood flowing in the opposite
direction.”

“Oh, that’s charming.” Her anxious steps
carried her away from both men. “Are you trying to frighten
me?”

“Hell, yes. I don’t want you anywhere near
that lunatic.”

She turned toward the adjoining bedroom.
“We’ve already had this conversation.”

When she returned a few minutes later,
Marc’s eyes nearly bugged out of his face. “You are not wearing
that dress!”

It wouldn’t have been her choice either, but
she had few options without going home. She’d worn the diaphanous
garment the night before because it displayed her figure to
advantage and made her feel naughty. “It’s the only one I have with
buttons on the front.”

“So, wear one of my shirts.”

“That would cover even less than the dress.”
She flashed her sweetest smile.

“Can we get going?” the general muttered.
“There’s a public shuttle stop just off PURE property. We’ll
offload you there. He might ask how you got to the stronghold. It’s
better to have your answers prepared.”

That was one concept she understood
completely. Job had gotten the better of her before. She wouldn’t
underestimate him again.

General Bettencourt led them to the same
transport that had returned them from the mountain lodge. At least
it looked the same to Tuesday’s untrained eye. They settled into
their seats and she waited for the gravitational pull of takeoff to
stabilize before she asked, “Were you able to learn anything about
Final PUREification?”

“Just scatterings of the phrase in their
literature. It doesn’t seem to be significant.”

Tuesday and Marc laughed in unison.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Marc drawled.
“Job doesn’t scatter phrases lightly. I learned the numerical code
for my name and intercepted the order for my PUREification.
Unfortunately, the order had already been sent. Two days later a
sniper unloaded on me in broad daylight.”

“So, why are you alive to tell the tale?”
The general arched his brow challengingly.

“Because I intercepted the message. I was
wearing Flexlar body armor, but he took a chunk out of my face.
That’s when I decided to have it enhanced, not just reconstructed.
You’re the one who said PURE is up to something. Remember the
‘demonstration of power’? Well, this is it, sir. If you’re not too
senile to recognize it.”

“Would you two just stop already?” Tuesday
fiddled with her skirt, consciously keeping her nervous fingers
away from the loaded button. “Shall we test the transmitter, or
were you not finished growling at each other?”

The transmitter worked beautifully, relaying
color images and sound with remarkable clarity.

Moments after they landed, Marc flung his
safety restraints off and stood. “How does surveillance
protect
her? What are you going to do if he tries to rape or
kill her? She’s not going anywhere until you explain this to
me.”

“She’s protected.” The general rose more
slowly and faced off with Marc. “If she knows the specifics, it
could put everyone in danger.”

“Trust me?” Marc scoffed. “That’s your plan?
I don’t trust you and neither does—”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” Tuesday
joined the argument. “I’m not just thinking about Raeanne. Job gave
me a taste of PURE’s power and it still makes me shudder. They prey
on the weak and lonely, exploit vulnerabilities. I’m going to do
this and General Bettencourt is in charge.”

She wanted to slap the smug smile off
Bettencourt’s face, but it offered Marc the perfect
opportunity.

“This is bullshit. I’m not going to watch
you die.” He nodded toward the hatch. “Let me out.”

“I won’t allow you to interfere,”
Bettencourt insisted.

“Interfere with what? Her suicide? I’ll take
the tram to SD Towers, now open the goddamn hatch!”

Bettencourt opened the hatch and watched
Marc stomp off toward the tram station. He motioned one of his men
forward. “Make sure he gets on the tram. The last thing I need is a
lovesick hero.” Turning back to her, he asked, “Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“You’ll do fine.”

Accepting his reassurance with a stiff nod,
she stepped off the transport. Marc was on his way to Phil to
activate the contingency plan. She wasn’t doing this alone.

“I’ve got company.” Marc’s words activated
the audiocom snugly lodged inside his ear canal. “I’ll take the
tram southbound for two stations.”

“Copy that,” Phil replied.

Bettencourt’s man stood on the terminal
platform until the tram left the station. The urge to flip him off
was nearly overwhelming. Marc turned his back and grabbed hold of a
slender alloy pole as the tram rocked into motion. Better let the
minion think he was too pissed off to notice.

He hurried from the tram and ran to Phil’s
shuttle. The hatch lowered as Marc drew near. “He’s got her bugged,
but he’s sending her in alone. What the hell is he thinking?”

Phil barely looked up from his control
console as Marc strapped in. “Anything I told you at this point
would be speculation. It’s better to focus on our objectives.” He
made a bland gesture toward the burly, dark-haired man dressed in a
PURE uniform. “That’s Geoff. He’ll be your escort for the
evening.”

Marc smirked at Phil. “Smartass.”

“Guilty as charged, but we really don’t have
much time.”

“So, start briefing me now.”

Phil swiveled his chair away from the
console. “The stronghold is divided into three towers. Job occupies
the top floor of tower A. Tower B is filled with individual living
quarters for those with a Purity Rating below .09. Tower C is used
for training and houses Job’s soldiers. What no one realizes is
most of the soldiers are not only tainted, they’re genetic
anomalies.”

Marc felt his jaw drop and snapped it
shut.

“Yeah, we’ve all had that reaction.” The
shuttle’s vibration intensified, then stilled as the ship landed.
“We’ll explore the full scope of Job’s hypocrisy once this is over.
Geoff has level three clearance, but we also have Elijah’s codes.
Using a combination of the two, we should be able to get you into
tower A.”

Marc unfastened his safety restraints and
took the visitor pass Geoff handed him, ignoring the blood rushing
through his ears. “I don’t like the ‘should’.”

“I told my supervisor I was bringing a
potential recruit in with me today,” Geoff explained.

“How long have you been undercover?” He
glanced from Geoff to Phil. The older man had turned his attention
back to the controls. Phil hadn’t mentioned anything about an
undercover soldier. Why was Phil holding out on him?

“Eight months.” Geoff shrugged out of his
straps and stood. “After I scan you in, we’ll stop by the armory,
and cross over on the first connecting tier.”