Viper's Kiss (8 page)

“Right, well, we need to find that prototype, fast.”

Luke nodded. “Right. Find the prototype.”

They both turned in unison and stared at Maggie. As though sensing their attention, she looked up.

Maggie’s heart sped up as she met Luke’s eyes. Drew was also staring at her, but it was Luke’s eyes that caught hers. They were magnetic, drawing her gaze like a spider pulling a fly into its web.

She swallowed. He looked grim. And determined. She looked at Noah, who just continued shuffling his cards, rifling them through his fingers with the skill and dexterity a Las Vegas croupier would envy, all the time watching her. It was a little unnerving. Not as unnerving as when Luke rose from the desk and approached them, his feet silent on the floorboards. Damn, for a big man, he could move real quiet.

“We’re through playing games, Maggie,” he began softly. “Where’s the prototype?”

Oh, God, we’re back to that, are we?
All three men surrounded her as though blocking off any attempt at escape. As if she stood a chance, she thought dryly. Maggie sighed. For once she wished she had stolen the research, just so that she could give it to them and end this nightmare.

“I don’t have it,” she said, her tone flat. She was tired. Tired of the same question. Tired of the same response. Tired of telling them something they didn’t believe.

Noah shrugged. “People generally tell us what we want to know.”

Maybe it was his tone. Maybe it was the culmination of all the stress and emotion. Her mother had just died, damn it, and they were threatening her?

She stood up, raised both hands and used them to shove at Noah. She was almost satisfied with his surprised expression as he stepped back. Almost.

“You’re threatening me? I don’t know how many times I have to say it, but I don’t have what you want. I didn’t have it when the other guy asked for it either.” She glared at them, one after the other. Luke was watching her intently with wary interest.

“My mother, my only family, has died. I’ve no doubt lost my job and my reputation. I don’t have a cent to my name,” she said hoarsely, blinking back tears. “And you’re threatening me?” Her laugh was hollow as she threw out her arms. “Do your worst, bucko. I don’t care anymore. Got it? I don’t care about the damned Visi-suit. I don’t care that people want me dead. I don’t care that if we don’t get that research back, the world as we know it will end and people will think it’s all my fault.”

She sighed. “I. Don’t. Care. Kill me. Get it over and done with.” There was a black void yawning inside her, threatening to suck her into an abyss of nothing, and she couldn’t see any way to escape it. Nor did she have the inclination. She should be scared. She should be guarded. She was empty. She’d had enough. And she wanted it to be over.

She watched Luke flick a sideways glance at his stunned colleagues. She didn’t care what they made of her little speech.

“What do you mean about the world coming to an end?” Drew asked finally, his tone curious, but not unfriendly. They probably thought she was being overly dramatic. Or insane.

Maggie’s head dropped to one side. “The prototype. The Visi-suit.”

“What is so special about this damned suit?” Noah queried.

Maggie slumped back down onto the sofa, laughing.
Oh, this is rich. They don’t know.
She realized her laughter sounded borderline hysterical, and tried to stop, but it was difficult. It would be so easy to let go, to just trip into the well of madness waiting for her. Maybe the pain of her mother’s passing wouldn’t follow her there.

“The Visi-suit! What this is all about. Oh, God, you don’t even know what you’re looking for.” She chuckled, wiping tears of near-hysterical mirth from her eyes.

Luke squatted in front of her. Her laughter subsided at his intent look. “Tell us about the Visi-suit.”

Maggie looked up at the other two men and sighed. “It’s supposed to be top-secret, but nobody seems to expect me to keep it that way.” She flicked her hair over her shoulder and took a deep breath.

“TI is working on a suit, contracted by the military, with the help of engineering students at Washington University.” She gripped her jean clad knees tightly. Feeling the rough denim under her palms had a grounding effect on her, sobering her.

“Using nano-technology and metamaterials, they’ve been able to create an invisible suit.” She met Luke’s gaze. “And that’s it.”

Luke blinked. “Pardon?”

“What?” Drew and Noah chorused.

Maggie quelled another bout of laughter bubbling up, despite her detached state. She had to maintain her slim grip on reality.

“It’s an invisible suit. You put the suit on, you turn it on, and you become invisible.”

Luke squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, as though trying to shake sense into what he’d just heard. Her lips lifted in a tiny smile.
He looks comical. And cute. Well, not cute. Sexy. But still comical. Mom would love him.
The thought saddened her.
Mom.

Noah looked at Drew. “Do you think she’s gone into shock?”

Drew shrugged, staring at her with wide eyes. “Probably, but this would be more than shock. This would be madness.”

Yes, madness would be a blessed relief, wouldn’t it?
Luke leaned forward, as though trying to peer inside her skull. Luke’s blue-eyed gaze served as an anchor to sanity. It reminded her of his concern in her mother’s hospital room, his kindness to a dying woman. And to her. She bit her lip. “I’m not mad,” she whispered.

He nodded slowly, and despite the others’ reaction, she thought he believed her. “Okay,” he said carefully. He winced. “Do you want to try it again?”

She took a deep breath. She wasn’t sure of the science, but knew enough to explain that it wasn’t a far-fetched superhero fantasy.

“Okay, baby steps. We see things because light enters our eye, the eye sends messages to the brain, and the brain makes sense of what the eye is telling us.”

Luke nodded. “I’m with you.”

“Do you know how a stealth bomber works?”

Luke nodded again. “It reflects radioactive waves, minimizing radar detection. It’s still visible to the eye, but harder to see on radar.”

She smiled.
Smart man
. “Right. Well, using nano-technology to work with metamaterials, TI, the military and our engineers have been able to create a material that can bend electromagnetic waves, as well as visual light.”

Drew put up his hand. “You’ve lost me.”

Maggie grimaced. “I’m not a scientist, so it’s hard for me to explain, but basically stealth technology reflects radar waves. This new technology doesn’t reflect waves, but bends the radar and light waves around the object, so that it appears as though nothing is there.”

Drew cocked his head and looked at Luke. “You’re the techie, Fletch. Is this possible? Or is she raving?”

Maggie glanced over. Luke’s eyes seemed unfocused, as though his brain was off assessing possibilities at the same speed his computer programs could.

Luke shook his head. “It’s fantastic,” he breathed.

“Fantastic as in the realm of fantasy, or fantastic as in damned good technology?” Noah asked.

“Take your pick.” Luke focused on Maggie, and she again felt the piercing weight of his stare.

“Tokyo University is also working on invisibility projects, but they’re taking a slightly different approach with fiber optics, and we don’t think they’ve been quite as successful as we have. Yet.” She spoke quickly. It was ludicrous, she knew. She hadn’t been able to tell her mother what she was working on, and many of her co-workers involved with the virtual research environment had scoffed when the concept was first discussed, but she’d seen the research. She’d seen the experiments, the results, the progress. “It’s a reality,” she assured him.

“And it’s been stolen,” he responded grimly.

She nodded.
Finally, he’s getting it
. These men needed to know what they were up against.

“Think of our soldiers fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan. What if the enemy could walk right up to the front line without being seen?”

“This suit can’t really make the wearer invisible, right?” Noah scoffed.

Maggie looked up at Noah, saw beyond the scoffing tone to the concern in his eyes. “Think of the July Seventh bombings in London. Then think of what could be done if people wearing these suits could walk among us without detection.”

“Full scale slaughter,” Drew said quietly.

“Someone has framed me for this. I know you don’t believe me, but I didn’t do it. And you’re wasting your time with me while the real spy is out there with the prototype. A security guard has been killed. Two cops have been murdered, and now a young model. Believe me, this suit is real, and there are people out there who know that and will stop at nothing to get their hands on it.”

The room was suddenly pitched into darkness, as though to punctuate her statement. Maggie’s breath caught in her throat. Luke’s hand fell to her knee and gripped it.

“Get down,” he whispered, pulling her down on to the floor with him.

A breeze brushed her face, and she jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“The generator isn’t kicking on,” Noah whispered. She hadn’t heard him move.

“Well, then. It’s probably not an accident,” Luke whispered back.

“Trapdoor?” Drew breathed as he joined them.

“Trapdoor,” Luke agreed. “Maggie, you stay with me.”

“I’ll check the perimeter,” Noah whispered. Another breeze, and Maggie sensed the large man was gone.

Small thudding noises broke the silence. Glass cracked as something hit the window. Maggie turned and looked—it was peppered with dents.

“Come, on.” Luke pulled her to her feet. “The bullet-proof screen won’t hold long against that kind of caliber.”

All three scuttled toward the hall, Luke in front dragging her along, and Drew behind her, pushing her hips forward. They made the hall as the glass window in the living room shattered. Bullets sprayed across the living room, tearing the curtains to rags and sending tufts of upholstery into the air as the sofa she’d sat on just moments ago was shot to pieces.

Maggie ducked as the roar of gunfire filled the house.

Luke tugged her along the floor into the main bedroom. He waited for Drew to follow, closing the door and twisting the key in the lock before snapping it in two, leaving part of it in the lock. Muted thuds sounded as the bullets landed in the wall further up the hall.

“Let’s go,” said Luke. Drew pulled open the wardrobe doors as the thuds got louder. The walls shook, and Maggie covered her ears with her hands.
God, no, not again
. There was so much violence. She fought the urge to scream.

Luke pulled her hands down. “Don’t block your ears, you’re going to need all your senses to stay alive.”

He yanked her across the room and into the enclosed space of the wardrobe. Drew closed the doors, and darkness engulfed them. Their harsh panting in the small space sounded thunderous to Maggie.

A faint click, a whisper, and Maggie felt a cool breeze waft up her body as a section of the floor in front of them seemed to slide away from view. Blue lights flickered on to reveal steel stairs going down. Drew scuttled down. She felt Luke against the back of her body, his hard frame providing an extra barrier between her and their attacker.

“Get down there, Kincaid.” She couldn’t help the shiver as his breath brushed against her neck. Her unexpected attraction to the man spurred her into action as she tried to put some distance between the two of them. And whoever was using the house for target practice.

She got to the base of the stairs and looked back. Luke was closing the trapdoor just as something above them exploded. She closed her eyes to avoid chips of wood that flew down the stairs before the door closed. A deft twist of Luke’s wrist and the trapdoor locked.

He lifted his chin. She didn’t need any further urging. She ran down the concrete lined corridor she found herself in. It was long and straight, with a dogleg at the end. Her hands skimmed along cinder blocks as she pumped her legs, her still-bare feet slapping against the concrete floor.

She ran around the corner and stopped, her jaw dropping. She was in a bunker. Each wall was lined with shelves. Food, clothing, blankets and other supplies lined one wall. The other three walls housed weapons of all varieties. Drew strapped a revolver to his thigh before loading more guns into his clothing.

Luke came up behind her and armed himself. He grabbed a dark heavy jacket and slung it over her shoulders before picking up a pistol and handing it to her.

“You do know how to use this?” he asked, slipping a knife up his sleeve.

She looked at the gun he’d shoved at her, horrified. “No, I don’t know how to use this,” she sputtered.

He showed her how to handle it. “There’s no safety. Just point and shoot.”

“You do know I wear glasses, right?” Since losing her glasses in the car crash—Damn, was that only this morning?—her vision was slightly indistinct, as though she was staring through smudged glass.

He shrugged. “Shoot quickly, shoot often,” he advised. “Just make sure you’re damned well not shooting at me.”

Drew tossed a pair of goggles at Luke, who caught them with the ease of a midfielder. Drew reached over to a wall and flicked a switch. The room was plunged into darkness.

Maggie gulped, clutching the handgun in front of her. It felt cold and heavy in her hand. God, she hoped it didn’t go off accidentally.
Point and shoot, huh?
She was holding a gun, for Pete’s sake, not a damn camera. She jumped when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

It was Luke. “We’re going up,” he told her.

Up? Up where?
The sound of metal grating on metal made her wince, and a lighter patch in the ceiling opened up. Her mouth dropped open. Drew had opened another trapdoor.

Who has a trapdoor that leads to a gun depot and an escape hatch?
These men weren’t your ordinary security guards.

“Who are you guys?” she breathed.

“Get climbing,” Luke commanded.

Maggie’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and she was able to make out the slightly darker figure of Drew as he climbed up rungs in the wall and disappeared through the hole. He made as much noise as a shadow.

Maggie felt in the darkness until her hands encountered a rung.