Edge of Betrayal Page 28

  Adam drew another syringe from his bag and crouched, waiting for the second guard to come investigate what had happened to his buddy.

  The nonlethal method was strange to him, but these men were only damaged, not entirely broken. His work finding others on the List had proven that much to him. And interestingly, saving lives made him feel proud. Like he was really one of the good guys instead of walking around in disguise, wearing one of their suits.

  Life was what Mira would have wanted for her father’s victims, and that was enough to motivate Adam to take the extra effort and risk.

  A few seconds later, the second guard came around the corner and Adam pounced. The man let out only a grunt before the drugs kicked in and he joined his buddy on the ground.

  They’d both be out for hours.

  Adam didn’t dare go for the door. He knew it would be equipped with an alarm. Instead, he went to where he remembered the kitchen being and searched for the window with the broken lock.

  He’d escaped tests and lessons too many times to count using that window. And no matter how many times he was caught and punished for slipping away against the rules, he’d never divulged his means of escape.

  The kitchen storeroom was dark. The door leading into the cooking area was closed. He shone his light through the dusty glass and saw that the latch was still the same old one—it hadn’t been replaced in all these years.

  He used his knife to slide it open and then crawled inside.

  The storeroom was covered in dust. Old canned goods lined the shelves, along with a few mouse-chewed boxes of dried pasta and bags of beans that had been left behind.

  He pressed his ear to the kitchen door, listening for signs that anyone was on the other side. He heard nothing, so he eased the door open.

  The second he smelled fresh coffee brewing, he knew he wasn’t alone.

  A man stood at the industrial kitchen counter, sipping a cup of coffee. He saw Adam open the door.

  The coffee dropped and splashed over the concrete floor. Steam rose from the hot liquid as the man reached for his weapon.

  Adam’s choices were few. He could draw his suppressed weapon and fire. He was faster than this man—just as he’d been designed to be. But even with the silencer, the sound of the weapon discharging would still be loud enough to alert anyone nearby.

  He could also pull his knife and sink it into the man’s chest. He was unarmored—clearly off duty. With the right placement, the man would bleed out in seconds, and the only noise coming out of him would be easily cut off with a hand over his mouth.

  Adam could turn and run, but that was likely to get him shot in the back. Even with his body armor, he had no desire to take a hit from this short distance.

  That left only one option—the one that was the most likely to keep both this man and Mira alive.

  Adam lifted his hands and surrendered.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Mira’s reaction to seeing her father was potent and violent.

  First there was the fear.

  He was wearing his usual lab coat, his pockets bulging with the sinister outline of syringes and vials of who knew what. His hair was long and messy, adding to the mad-scientist vibe he always gave off. His cheeks sagged with the weight of his scraggly beard.

  Mira had seen him looking unkempt and haggard before, always when he was in the throes of proving some new hypothesis. He’d disappear into his lab for weeks, and when he came out, that wild light in his eyes was always burning bright with excitement.

  That’s when the experiments—the suffering—would start.

  As she breathed through the familiar bout of fear, anger began to burn it away.

  She wanted to kill him with her bare hands. She wanted to watch the life flicker from his eyes and know with complete certainty that he was really dead this time.

  This man had hurt so many people. Not just Mira, but countless others. Her office was stuffed with files of those he’d used and damaged—subjects who were cast aside as unfit because his latest protocol failed to do whatever it was he’d been working toward.

  It was never his fault that things didn’t go as he’d hoped. It was always the subject’s fault.

  Just like it hadn’t been his fault that he’d killed her mother. It had been her ignorance that forced his hand, her lack of intelligence. If she’d been smarter, she would have understood why he’d been so driven to finish his work.

  Because Mira’s mom had tried to stop him from using Mira in his experiments, he’d killed her. Said she was small-minded.

  Mira had never forgiven him. Never would.

  But she could kill him. It was the only way he’d ever stop hurting people.

  Dr. Sage offered her a smile of greeting as she entered the lab. The room was smaller than his usual setup, but it still contained all the necessary equipment—the scientific and medical gadgets that made her skin crawl and her stomach churn dangerously.

  Sophie was lying on a gurney, strapped in place so she couldn’t escape. An IV line pumped something into her arm, and whatever it was couldn’t be good for her.

  She lifted her head slowly, as if it was too heavy to hold up. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused, but there was a flash of recognition in her expression that told Mira she knew who she was.

  Mira shoved her chin up and glared at her father. “I’m here. Let Sophie go.”

  Her father motioned to one of the two men in the room with him. She didn’t know if they were guards or merely burly lab techs, but both were armed.

  One of them pulled out a chair at a desk in front of a laptop, indicating she should sit.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  “I’ve come across some information from my competitor.”

  “You mean Dr. Stynger.”

  “Yes. Sadly, none of my staff is capable of breaking her encryption. That’s why you’re here.”

  “Really?” she asked, staring at him in disbelief. “The last time you asked me to do this for you, I destroyed every file I could. What makes you think I’ll do any different this time?”

  He shook his head in disappointment. “You always did need the proper motivation. It’s sad, really. It makes me feel like I’ve failed as a father.”

  He went to Sophie’s IV port and injected something.

  She started to scream in pain.

  “Stop it!” Mira covered her ears and looked away. She’d always been queasy when it came to seeing others suffer, and she was incapable of watching poor Sophie without breaking down.

  If Mira was to have any chance at staying strong, she had to pretend that none of this was happening. It was just a TV show. A bad dream. Not real. No pain.

  The screaming stopped. Mira looked up, praying Sophie was still alive.

  Sage pulled a different needle from Sophie’s IV. “She’s resting comfortably now. How long is up to you.” He glanced pointedly at the laptop. “The next dose will probably kill her.”

  “Then you’ll have no leverage,” spat Mira.

  He smiled like he knew a secret, then nodded toward a curtained-off area. One of the guards opened the curtain and behind it was Adam, struggling against the heavy leather straps holding him down. His mouth was covered with tape, and his eyes promised payback as he glared at Sage.

  Ruby Rypan stood beside him, carrying what she needed to start his IV—just like the one Sophie had that pumped those pain-inducing chemicals into her.

  Mira’s stomach clenched, and a raging swell of nausea churned in the back of her throat. She swallowed hard to keep from throwing up, but she wasn’t going to last long if she couldn’t find some kind of calm.

  “I have all the leverage I need, Mira,” he said. “And when these two are used up, if you still need motivation, I’ll find more. Clay. Bella. Riley. Leigh. Gage. And so many others you call friends. I
know them all. I have men watching them, just waiting for me to give the order to bring them in. So ask yourself this: How much motivation do you need?”

  Her head fell forward in defeat. She was beaten. Her father knew just where her weakness was. He knew just how hard to push and how often. And there was not a single doubt in her mind that he would kill Sophie and Adam and everyone else if he felt he needed to in order to get what he wanted.

  “No more,” she whispered. She was too weak to even find her voice. “I’ll do it.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  “When I’m done, you’ll let them go?”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “Of course it is.”

  “Then be a good girl and open those files. If you do it fast enough, I may be in a charitable mood.”

  He was lying. Her father wouldn’t know what charity looked like if he sat on it.

  “And in case you’re thinking of trying something cute, know that if anything goes wrong with this process—if even one file is corrupted by your antics—you won’t like what happens to your friends.”

  That was the truth. At least he still knew how to tell it sometimes.

  “I won’t mess anything up,” she told him. “It doesn’t matter if you have access to this information or not. The only way to stop you is to kill you.”

  “Patricide?” he asked, grinning. “You, who can’t stand the sight of blood, are thinking about killing me? That’s adorable.” He patted her on the head. “Get to work. Your friends don’t have all night.”

  Mira started working. It didn’t take long before she realized that this encryption was something she’d never seen before and was way beyond her skills—at least in the short time she had. With each passing minute, her father’s pacing sped, and she knew she was running out of time.

  She stared at the screen, trying to clear her mind enough to think. Nothing she did helped. She couldn’t hack into these files. She wasn’t that good.

  Stynger’s files were safe, but Sophie and Adam were going to die. There wasn’t a thing Mira could do to stop it.

  * * *

  Adam could tell by watching Mira that it wasn’t going well.

  Her lip was clenched between her teeth so hard she’d drawn blood. Her hands shook as they sped over the keyboard. Her face was pale, and a trickle of sweat eased along her hairline, despite the chill in the room.

  He’d spent the last few minutes working to loosen his bonds whenever Sage’s men looked the other way. He’d made no progress before Ruby had come in and halted his efforts. Despite his best efforts, the cuffs around his wrists and ankles were holding fast.

  Mira wiped her sweaty brow. Sage stopped pacing and glanced at Sophie. It was easy to see the man was about to hurt her again. Possibly kill her.

  Adam started grunting and thrashing to get Sage’s attention.

  Ruby came over and checked Adam’s bonds, tightening them down. “He’s good.”

  Only then did Sage come within reach of Adam.

  Smart man.

  Sage loomed over him. “What?”

  Adam grunted behind the tape, trying to give the noise a sense of urgency.

  Sage ripped the tape free, leaving an angry sting behind. “This had better be important.”

  “It is. I know the passcode.”

  “Impossible.”

  He glanced nervously at Mira. There was no way for him to communicate to her that he was conning her father. Once she heard what he had to say, she was going to think he’d betrayed her. Again.

  “Spit it out,” said Sage.

  “Can’t we talk somewhere private?”

  “This is as private as it gets for a man with your skills. I’m not about to put myself alone in a room with a killer like you.”

  Mira’s fingers stilled on the keyboard.

  Adam lowered his voice, hoping it wouldn’t carry across the lab. “I . . . work for Stynger. She knew the files were missing. I was sent to find them and steal them back. That’s why I was working with Mira. Stynger thought she had them.”

  Mira turned in her chair to face him. She’d heard every word. He could see the painful gleam of betrayal wavering in her eyes. “You were lying to me the whole time?”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Mira. It’s not what it seems.”

  “Did you sleep with me to get me to trust you? Was that part of the plan, too?”

  Sage’s shrewd gaze flashed between them. “Stynger wanted your child, didn’t she? That’s what this research she’s hiding is about. Second-generation enhancements. With your altered genetics, Adam, it makes perfect sense. Of course.”

  Whoa. Sage was veering way off track, into territory that Adam knew would be dangerous for him, Mira, and any children they might have.

  Strangely, he had no trouble picturing what their child would look like, how it would feel to hold his son or daughter. Profound, joyful. Right.

  But what scared him was that he could also imagine the lengths to which he would go to see their child safe.

  Based on the speculative look Sage was giving his daughter, it was clear where his mind was headed: forcing Mira to have a child Sage could study.

  There was only one response Adam could muster to such a threat.

  Sage had to die. Here. Tonight.

  Adam cleared his throat. “She came to the conclusion first. The research idea is hers and hers alone.”

  Sage’s face went red and mottled with rage. “That bitch stole my idea. Any work she’s done on the subject rightfully belongs to me.” He turned to Mira. “Open those files. Now.”

  She shook her head, horror clear in her expression. “I can’t. And even if I could, I wouldn’t. I won’t have a hand in you or Stynger or anyone else hurting more children.”

  Sage took the weapon from a guard near him and leveled the barrel at Adam’s head. “Do it now, or I kill him.”

  “You don’t want to do that,” said Adam, trying to sound as calm as possible. “Not only do I have the correct passcode; I’m also the only one with genetic alterations. What you did to Mira and the others probably won’t pass on to their children. Me, on the other hand . . .” He let his thought hang in the air, giving Sage plenty of room to come to the proper conclusion.

  He lifted the weapon. “You’re not the only one,” he said. “Don’t forget, I was the one who told you where to find your brother.”

  Another burst of rage hit Adam hard, but he shoved it in a box and kept his cool. “Let me go. I’ll type in the passcode and you can see how far Stynger has come with her research.”

  “You mean my research.”

  “I don’t give a fuck whose research it is,” said Mira. “You can’t do this, Adam. You can’t give him access to those files.”

  He kept his face cold and hard, as if he weren’t aching to hold her and chase her pain and fear away. “It’s the only way to survive.”

  “A heightened instinct for survival was part of your enhancements,” said Sage. “I can hardly fault you for doing as you were designed to do.”

  “Don’t,” said Mira. Tears quivered in her eyes, breaking his heart.

  “I have no choice. If I do this, we survive. It’s that simple.”

  “What about the people he’s going to hurt?” she asked.

  He wanted to tell her that he’d changed. He wasn’t the same man he’d been when she met him. He knew what it felt like now to put the safety of others above his own. He wasn’t just some cold, calculating creation who did what he was told to do.

  There was no way to tell her any of that now. His plan worked only if everyone believed he was the same Adam Brink he’d been before he met her.

  He shrugged as well as his bonds would allow. “I can’t let that be my problem.”

  Sage smiled and patted Adam’s shoulder. “This is the ri
ght choice, son. You won’t regret it.”

  “Don’t,” said Mira. A tear fell down her cheek.

  Adam lurched against his restraints. “Please, Mira. Forgive me.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t. Not for this. You have no idea what he’s capable of doing. I do.”

  “Tell me the code,” ordered Sage. “My patience is already worn thin.”

  Adam wanted to look away from Mira as he gave the passcode, but that was the cowardly way out. He couldn’t touch her to comfort her that way, so the only thing he had left to give her was eye contact.

  He only hoped that she’d see past his lies. Somehow.

  “Second chances,” he said. “That’s the passcode. All lower case, no spaces.”

  Mira flinched, but she didn’t look away. “You have no idea what you’ve just done.”

  “I saved your life,” he said. “And Sophie’s.”

  “You’re wrong. You just delayed our deaths.” She turned to her father. “Isn’t that right, Dad?”

  He was too busy typing in the code to respond.

  Adam waited for the fallout to start. He almost expected sparks to start shooting out of the laptops and tablets nearby. But none of that happened.

  From this angle, he could see the screen fill with data. Text, charts, graphs, data logs. Nothing exploded. Sage didn’t curse as the screen went blank.

  He practically cackled with giddiness.

  “This is it,” he said. “Everything I need.”

  Pieces in Adam’s mind began to shift. He wasn’t sure exactly what was happening, but he knew it wasn’t good.

  Stynger had set him up. She’d wanted Sage to get his hands on those files.

  But why?

  “Ruby, take one of the guards and put our guests in one of the holding cells,” said Sage, his tone distracted.

  “Together?” asked Ruby, giving no indication of her preference.

  “Absolutely. I’m looking forward to grandchildren.”

  “Yes, Dr. Sage,” said Ruby.

  Mira bowed her head in defeat.