Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
THE VEHICLES WERE PRECISELY where their contact had promised they would be.
Sully had never ridden in this kind of a car, a glossy black open-top that looked similar—maybe was exactly the same for all he knew—as the ones their higher-ranking officers were driven around in.
Other than the motorcycles, which were still a novelty, he’d only been in transport trucks, jostled around in back with too many other men who were loud with chaotic emotion and inane chatter.
This drive was quiet and tense. Sully felt the others settling into calm alertness, and he was reminded this was somewhat routine for them.
That crossing the land he and fellow soldiers fought, sacrificed, and died bloody to gain a few feet of was easy for them.
They had to time Bellona’s transports carefully, but with either he or Hoffman along, the Germans never even noticed them. It was unsettling.
Alone in the backseat of the car, he spread out.
Watched Elliot’s pale hair whip in the wind.
The road in front of them was poorly illuminated by headlamps, and everything else by the sliver of silver moon in the sky.
Elliot’s black jacket was an ink stain below the night-bleached wisps of his hair. Sully was fascinated by the visual.
The crisp air bit his cheeks and slithered down his collar. The civilian clothing he wore did about as much to keep him warm as his uniform, which meant not nearly enough. At least he’d grabbed a warm hat that kept his ears from freezing clean off.
Wearing something that wasn’t a barely presentable uniform felt strange now.
He’d been kept in the front lines so often he’d never had the chance to wear anything else.
Laundering one uniform each time he was given the briefest respite.
Other soldiers rotated out much more frequently and spent longer away.
Not the skilled. They were too few to spare.
Giving them time away from the fighting meant heavier losses.
Might be the difference between winning a battle or retreating.
Would wearing something like this ever feel normal again? Would he live long enough to find out?
Sully pinched the tightly-knit navy sleeve of the heavy sweater he wore over his shirt and rolled it between his gloved fingers.
It was Elliot’s. The same one he’d given Sully to wear last night.
Last night when he spilled his guts and almost begged Elliot to stop the nightmares.
So exhausted he clung to his pride by the thinnest thread.
These distracting thoughts weren’t helpful. He needed to rest the best he could until they arrived, and his skills were needed. The brief time they spent crossing the lines left him drained physically, emotionally, and magically.
Closing his eyes, he thought of his life before all of this. How he felt the day Edie had offered him a job at her agency. Her keen eyes had sparkled. “What’s a smart, intuitive guy like you doin’ workin’ in a dump like this?”
He hadn’t minded tending bar in the lackluster club he’d been employed at, but it hadn’t been interesting either. Back then, he’d been surviving. Keeping a roof over Anne’s head. Not thinking about what he wanted to do. Nothing beyond getting enough money mattered.
“D’you like solving puzzles? The cases we get ain’t your usual run of the mill cheaters and deadbeats.
” She’d leaned close, that smile twisting her painted lips, the one that made most men ache to know her secrets.
If they were interested in pretty women, anyway.
“We investigate things…a little more magical.”
The hint of knowing made his heart pound, and a flicker of fear lick his spine, but the pay was better than he made at the bar, and after she tipped her own hand, he was intrigued.
Everything fell into place fast. Before he knew it he was a staple at Edie Isles Detective Agency.
A natural, Edie called him. She’d pegged him as skilled from the start, part and parcel of her own skills, and when he’d finally, cautiously admitted exactly what he could do she’d been tickled.
“Our own little lie sniffing barometer.”
When the car slowed, Sully jolted and cracked his eyes open. They drove onto a small hardly noticeable turn off, puttered a few feet into the woods and rolled to a stop. Shortly after, the second car with Charbonneau, Hoffman, and Remonet parked behind them.
This is it. Time to prove I can handle this. Time to prove Stone didn’t make a mistake choosing me.
They climbed out, and Sully made sure to retrieve the haversack to stuff full of whatever documents he could lay hands on.
It wasn’t like most of them could read the damn things to tell if they were important or not.
Elliot was the only one of them with passable skill at speaking and reading German.
There wouldn’t be time for him to check over everyone’s shoulders.
Not if they wanted to be quick and efficient, and they had to be if they weren’t going to get caught.
Transporting them all from the cars to the shadows of the building they were targeting took precious time. It was a safe way to make sure their vehicles weren’t discovered.
The moon was high in the sky as they arrived at their destination.
The complex sprawled inside of the barbed wire fences.
Two wide square barracks to the east housed soldiers who either guarded or worked at the facility.
In the center lay another large concrete building that contained offices and laboratories.
They had only received the scantest information about what could be waiting for them inside.
There was no indication if the project they were pursuing information on was the only experiment being conducted here.
For all they knew they might return with information on others or discover fresh horrors inside.
What they did have was detailed intelligence on the timing of security. Their movements now were planned to the last second. Edging carefully and quietly through the cover of darkness, Sully focused on deepening the shade to blot them from view if anyone happened to look their way.
Near the rear of the building, they found a window where the lights were off and after a quick glance to be sure it was as empty as it appeared, Bellona cupped her hands to the icy glass and peered inside more intently.
One moment she was standing there, the next she vanished and appeared on the other side of the glass, winking at them.
Tilting her head to the side, she listened—checking for any sign she’d been overheard—then slowly she unlatched the window and silently opened it.
Charbonneau interlaced his fingers into a makeshift step and helped each of them up through the window before he jumped up and seamlessly hauled himself in behind them.
Exactly as discussed, Sully was the one to crack open the door, simultaneously projecting that nothing was happening.
Once he stepped out into the dimly lit hall, he made sure it was clear before waving the others out.
Bellona remained behind to search the office.
After she would continue down this hallway to the other four offices.
Meanwhile Charbonneau, Hoffman, and Remonet took the long hall to the left. Sully and Elliot moved to the right.
The sterile white halls appeared deserted.
Still, Sully stretched his concentration thin on muffling their footsteps.
He strode quickly toward the end of the long hall, where there was a doorway on either side.
Elliot inclined his head right, indicating Sully take that room.
Nodding his understanding, Sully reached for the door handle.
The pistol he could hardly shoot straight weighed heavily where it remained tucked in the holster on his belt.
He wished he had his rifle. Not that it would do him any good.
The sound would bring soldiers in the nearby barracks running.
Illusions and the hope he noticed any change in the anticipatory tension of the moods around him were all he had to rely on.
Pushing open the door, Sully crept into a deserted laboratory.
Diffused light from the hallway shone in, lighting up desks covered in scientific instruments.
Glass tubes and jars with mysterious liquids of varying color caught his eye.
Sully didn’t dawdle to stare. On the left wall stretched an elaborate system of rubber tubing and shiny glass globes, currently devoid of any substance.
It gleamed ominously as he moved forward.
Deadly quiet strung tight as he approached the back of the room, along which several tall metal filing cabinets stood.
Split between attending to the illusions he was weaving, his destination, and keeping himself alert for anyone entering behind him, it was no wonder he didn’t notice until he was standing right next to it.
Sully’s heart launched into his throat at a soft rustle, low and to his left.
He staggered back, hand rubbing the center of his heaving chest.
In a cage no higher than Sully’s thigh was a small sleeping girl.
The top of her dark brown hair pressed against wire mesh, her knees bent because the enclosure wasn’t long enough for her to lie comfortably.
She was covered in a thin blanket and slept on the hard floor.
Sully’s heart broke with a pang that stopped his breath.
Whatever this little girl was dreaming of, it was keeping at bay the harsh horror of reality—the only emotions he sensed from her were peaceful.
What the hell is she doing here? How the hell could anyone put a little kid in a fucking cage?