31. Chapter 31
Chapter thirty-one
Day 15 Washington, D.C.
Clark leaned over his laptop and punched the execute key. A new screen popped up.
NNB26 prototype: Deactivate YES. NO.
Clark clicked on the YES square and slumped against the backrest of the computer chair.
Processing…
“It’s done.” Clark picked up his cell phone from the table in front of him and scanned the call log. No incoming call from Kuznetsov. Grimacing, he set it back down.
The stainless steel table his laptop sat on was a blur in front of his burning eyes as he swiveled his chair to face the lanky, thick-boned man in the white lab coat. Lovett was hunched over the desk that contained the computer and screen that monitored the Atomic Force Microscope that was mounted to the top of the NNB26 tank. Clark could access the AFM screen himself, but he’d have to close out of the programming window, navigate to the AFM sequencer, enter a slew of passwords and—he yawned. He was too damn tired for that. It was easier to let the good doctor monitor the AFM while he kept the programming window open. Although, if this last programming patch didn’t work, he was all out of fixes.
“Well?” Clark flinched at the sharpness in his voice as the question hit the purified air.
It had been five long days, with very little sleep, and his head was giving him hell, so were his spine and shoulders. The human body was not built to hunch over a laptop for days on end. A steady dose of aspirin wasn’t even easing the pain anymore.
“Nothing. They’re still scrambling around like ants on their mound.” Dr. Lovett rolled back his chair and straightened, arching his spine. His hands migrated to the small of his back. “No disruption at all this time.”
“Damn.” Clark was too tired to put any effort into his frustration. “They’re circumventing my new programming faster each time.”
It had taken his NNB26 prodigies half an hour to reactivate after his first round of programming. By his fourth attempt to shut them down, they hadn’t deactivated at all. They’d followed the same pattern through each of his reprogramming attempts. His nanobots were fabricated to allow a complete reset, followed by multiple reprogrammings. After all, each batch of bots sold would need their own kill switch. Customers would not be pleased if their multi-million-dollar weapon was unexpectedly shut down because a different customer activated their weapon’s off button. Before a batch of bots were sent off to their new owners, they’d be reset, then reprogramed to a specific code triggering deactivation.
Or at least that had been his intention.
But he’d also expected that resetting the prototype would wipe their programming and memory clean. But that wasn’t what appeared to be happening. Resetting and deactivating them didn’t wipe their memory. They simply never reset.
They were adapting to and circumventing his new programming faster than he could create the codes. A wave of exhaustion swept over him. If he were lucky—very, very lucky—a fresh approach to the kill switch problem would hit him after he got some sleep. Until then, there was nothing more he could do.
He picked his cell up again. Still no call from Kuznetsov. Which was strange. The Russian had been insistent about putting the bot prototype up for sale ASAP. At the very least, he’d expected the arms dealer to return his call and attempt to bully Clark into releasing their cash cow into the world prematurely, regardless of the consequences.
Kuznetsov wasn’t big on thinking things through.
“It’s time to consider implementing the fail-safe. This prototype is too dangerous to lose control of.” His thumbs still pressed into the small of his back, Dr. Lovett swiveled his chair to stare at the osmium tank across the room. “Since the kill switches no longer work...” The worry on his face clearly spoke of his reservations. “It’s my opinion we should hit NNB26 with the hydrofluoric acid.”
Clark cast a tired glance around the lab. White walls, glass windows, and endless stainless-steel countertops surrounded him. Half a dozen stainless steel desks, facing each other in units of two, were spread throughout the room, supporting everything from computers to monitors to various types of electron microscopes, to piles of reference materials, along with pencils, pens, legal pads, loose sheaves of handwritten notes and electronic tablets.
His lab and the power grid supplying Nantz Technology were hardened against electromagnetic pulses. The NNB26 prototype was as well. He hadn’t wanted his bots disabled if someone chose an EMP burst to shut his microscopic prodigies down. Dousing the tank with the acid was simple and would effectively dissolve the little bastards. They’d threaded silicon molecules through the bot structure to enable the fail-safe. The acid would dissolve the silicon, as well as most of the organic components. His little prodigies would cease to exist.
Dammit.
Five years of development, and hundreds of millions of dollars down the drain.
Dammit.
But Lovett was right. The weapon was too dangerous without the kill switch. It was also worthless. Nobody would buy it if they couldn’t control it.
Still, he wasn’t quite ready to give up on the prototype yet. Not when he was too tired to think clearly, so tired he might be missing a simple solution. A couple more days wouldn’t hurt anything.
“Wait on the fail-safe for now.” Clark’s tired gaze traveled to the osmium tank. “NNB26 isn’t going anywhere.”
At least the bastards were contained. Osmium was the densest metal available. Not even his little prodigies could chew their way through it. Plus, the sheer weight of the tank, several tons at least, would prevent theft. Nobody was getting that sucker out of the lab. He’d had to use a lighter metal for Kuznetsov’s carrying case—but then his microscopic soldiers hadn’t needed to be contained for long during the testing period. Just long enough to drop them in the well.
“I need to get some sleep.” He stretched. “My brain isn’t functioning at full capacity. Once I’ve had some sleep, I’ll reassess the situation.”
If he had to scrap this iteration of the weapon and move on, they’d be looking at years of more work and millions more dollars.
He scrubbed his palms down his face, feeling the stubble of five days of frenetic activity against his palms. Sleep wasn’t the only item on the agenda, so was a shower and a shave. “Get the fail-safe ready, but don’t implement it yet.”
“As you will.” Lovett didn’t sound happy with the decision.
“What of the cadavers from Karaveht?” Clark asked, his mind shifting to other complications.
“Still no evidence of nanobot activation in their samples,” Lovett replied.
“Thank God for that,” Clark muttered beneath his breath.
If the nanobots reactivated in the samples, or the cadavers, they’d be looking at a disaster. Sure, the room was off limits and password protected, and they were monitoring the samples remotely, but hell, all it would take was one person breaking protocol to infect everyone on site.
It hadn’t occurred to him that the kill switch would quit working, or the bots could get out of control. If it wasn’t crucial that the samples and cadavers be under constant observation, he’d incinerate everything as he’d done with most of the bodies they’d recovered from Karaveht. The few he’d kept for testing were currently frozen in the morgue on the lowest level of the Nantz building, as were the tissue, blood, and brain samples they’d pulled from the bodies they’d collected.
He frowned as Lovett went to work preparing the hydrofluoric fail-safe. It wouldn’t hurt to dose the ashes of his test subjects from Karaveht with acid, too, make sure the bots couldn’t reactivate amid the charred ashes of their hosts. It would mean digging up the pit they’d buried the ashes in, but better to err on the side of caution.
He picked up his phone as he rose to his feet. Still nothing from Kuznetsov. He’d left multiple messages telling the Russian to call. They could hardly proceed with the sale of NNB26 now, not with the weapon in such an uncertain state.
Kuznetsov wouldn’t like the postponement of the sale. But there was nothing he could do about it.
Day 15 Denali, Alaska
“Mary, these cinnamon sticky buns are dangerous.” Beth Winters, one of the clones’ wives, refilled Demi’s wine glass from the bottle on the coffee table and sat back down on the couch on the other side of Kait. “Zane’s obsessed with them and he’s usually not a pastry kind of guy.”
Beth was an elegant blonde with the most unusual violet eyes, the kind of eyes Demi had always thought were myth rather than reality.
“Rawls will swear to his last breath that he doesn’t like Mary’s sticky buns better than mine.” A smile softened Faith's deep blue eyes as she brushed a strand of dark hair back. “But we both know he’s lying.”
“I doubt that, honey.” Mary’s smile carried a hint of raunchiness, signaling what was to come. “He’s never been privy to my sticky bun.”
A beat of silence fell before raucous laughter filled the room and comparisons to sticky buns and other sexual innuendos took flight.
The bookstore felt like it was bursting with women, although there were only seven in attendance; she, Kait, and Beth sharing the comfy couch, two on the loveseat on the other side of the coffee table, and one in each of the armchairs that flanked the couch. The bookstore’s sitting area was arranged to facilitate conversation, and the chatter hadn’t stopped since she’d followed Kait into the store.
The owner of the Book Nook, a petite redhead with hazel eyes, round glasses, and a mop of curly red hair, had opened her store at 7:00 p.m. to host the book brigade. Mary brought an assortment of pastries. Everyone brought a bottle or two of their favorite wine. The conversation and laughter flowed smoothly. So did the wine. The atmosphere was vibrant and joyful.
She shouldn’t have come.
While Kait’s posse had welcomed her with warmth and generosity, including her in their conversations and laughter, Demi felt like she was sleepwalking. Her body might sit on this couch beside Kait, but her spirit was drifting, grieving, mourning an unbearable loss.
She thought she’d prepared herself to let Aiden go. She hadn’t. Not even close.
It made no sense why it hurt so much to cut ties with a man who was barely in her life. Why each breath without him felt dipped in flames. The world suddenly felt empty and leaden. His deployments had been bad, but this…this was even worse. Why? She’d spent far more time without him than with him. She’d gotten used to the loneliness when he was gone. But this didn’t feel the same. It was deeper, darker, emptier.
Permanent.
She’d heard people compare losing someone they loved to losing an appendage—the severing of an arm or a leg. But that wasn’t what it felt like to her. Not with her parents, or Donnie, or even Aiden. Instead, it felt like a never-ending hollowness inside her, an emptiness so deep and vast she felt like she was drowning.
From experience, she knew that the emptiness would eventually fill in, become less deep, less wide, more bearable. But for now, there was only pain and barrenness.
Another burst of laughter swept the room. She fought to focus on the present, on the women, the conversation, and her surroundings. Books were everywhere. Colorful or somber covers were in every corner of the room—stacked on bookshelves, on tables, even perched in the built-in nooks climbing the rustic walls.
Which felt appropriate as the Book Brigade was discussing books, or, at least, one book. Their choice for this week’s discussion was The Ex I’d love to Hate , a billionaire romantic comedy, by an author named Nadia Lee.
Judging by the laughter and excited chatter, everyone loved it. And the book did sound delightful. Who didn’t love a grumpy hero out for revenge and a snarky heroine who gave as good as she got? Kait offered her a copy to read before the meeting, but Demi passed. A romance, no matter how funny, just wasn’t appealing. Not at the moment, not after ripping her heart out and tossing it into the frigid Alaskan night.
“Oh. My. God!” Olivia Holden squealed. An honest to God squeal. “Did any of you read Baby for the Bosshole ? The first book in Nadia’s Lasker Brothers series? It’s just as funny as the one we read for tonight.”
Mary, another brunette with glowing skin, long inky hair, and soft brown eyes, laughed back. “The way Emmett kept ruining her dates by making her work late—”
Kait snickered. “And how he thought he was doing her a favor, because redoing spreadsheets was so much fun—"
“I just love her sense of humor,” Beth added. “Like what she named the hamster in My Grumpy Billionaire .”
Demi absently listened. While she loved the idea of a book club, a thriller novel would suit her current mood better. One where everyone died…except for the dog or the cat.
Not that she blamed Kait for dragging her to this meeting. They’d agreed that a couple of hours spent discussing books and drinking wine was a better alternative than staying home and brooding. The laughter, conversation, and wine should provide the distraction she needed. Yet it didn’t. Her mind kept flipping back to the night before.
She’d spent the last twenty-four hours replaying the conversation with Aiden in her head. What she’d said, what he’d said. The defeated look on his face when he realized there could be no compromise between them.
He said he loved her. And she believed him. Aiden wouldn’t lie about that. Not even to keep her in his life. Her stomach clenched, the wine sloshing sourly before trying to climb her tight throat.
If only love made a difference.
But love wouldn’t bridge this gulf between them. It wouldn’t keep him content in a safe 9 to 5 job. If they married, it wouldn’t keep the anxiety from ripping her soul to shreds while he was gone, doing whatever he ended up doing. For her, love just made the fear worse.
Eventually, their love would turn to resentment, and then to anger. They needed to break things off now, before their love grew claws and teeth and started to rend and tear. Eventually, these feelings would wither and die, leaving them both free to find new partners, new loves, a new life with someone else. Someone who was on the same page, someone who wanted the same things.
An image flashed through her mind; Aiden with his arms around a faceless woman, her belly round with child. Another flash; a dark-haired toddler cradled in Aiden’s muscled arms.
She flinched. Her stomach rolled again. Sourness burned up her throat. She choked the bile down and shook the images away.
Don’t think about that. Not that. It will get easier. Each day will be easier.
The promise rang hollow in her mind, like a lie.
To distract herself, she focused back on the conversation, anything to avoid the expanding rift in her soul.
“Cosky isn’t saying,” Kait said. “But it’s coming. That’s obvious.”
The tension in Kait’s voice caught Demi’s attention. She frowned, wishing she’d paid more attention. The book discussion was apparently over. Whatever they were talking about now was upsetting everyone. She could see the effect it was having on Kait. The skin at the corners of her eyes looked pinched, and her eyes were too wide, the whites showing. Clear signs of anxiety.
“Zane isn’t talking either.” Beth’s voice was tight. “But we know they’ll go after whoever attacked Aiden. They crewed with Aiden’s teammates. They won’t let their deaths slide.” She turned her head toward the left armchair where Olivia was sitting. “What about Samuel? Has he said anything to you?”
Aiden? What did this conversation have to do with Aiden? Demi’s gaze shifted from tense face to tense face.
“All Samuel will say is that this new weapon, the one that was used against Kait’s brother and his SEAL team, cannot go up for sale,” Olivia said. “He says if it deploys, it will be catastrophic.”
Silence fell over the room. A thick, tense silence. Kait was the one who broke it.
“Samuel’s right. I can’t…I can’t go into detail.” Kait sent a fleeting glance at Faith. “But this new weapon, the one used on Karaveht, then on Aiden and his team…” She shook her head, her eyes going shiny and blind. “If someone were to use this on the general population, it could sweep the globe faster than anyone could stop it.”
So, only Kait and, from that sidelong glance, probably Faith, knew what their men were facing. Which made sense as both women worked at Shadow Mountain. At least Aiden hadn’t been lying when he said the situation was classified.
“We’re working on countermeasures.” Faith’s voice was quiet. Steady. But her face had gone so pale, the hundreds of freckles stretching across her cheeks and nose stood out like flecks of gold. “Methods to stop the weapon from spreading and to protect the population from its effects.”
“Kait, Faith, I know you can’t tell us what happened to Aiden and his men, nor what this new threat is. Zane says the information is restricted.” Beth's voice was as tight as her face. “And I know the clones all think that keeping us in the dark will make things easier on us, that if we don’t know what they’re up against, we’ll worry less.” She blew out a breath and blindly reached for Kait’s hand. Their fingers curled and clung. “But they’re wrong. Knowing the enemy makes the danger less scary. I wish they’d just tell us what’s going on.”
A murmur of agreement went around the couches and armchairs. Still, neither Kait nor Faith broke their silence. Demi wondered how much of their tight-lipped reticence was because of the confidentiality of their jobs versus promises to their husbands.
What was it about this new weapon that had the clones so rattled? Her mind flashed back to the night before, and the brief exchange between Kait and Aiden. She’d asked him about nanobots.
Was that what this weapon was? Some kind of nanobot plague?
She almost asked Kait but withheld the question at the last moment. She didn't want to put her friend in an awkward position when it was clear Kait didn’t have permission to divulge anything.
“I just wish…” Kait’s voice faltered. “…that it wasn’t Shadow Mountain and our guys who end up fighting the evil assholes of the world. I thought things would be safer after they brought down the New Ruling Order.”
“It has been safer,” Beth said. “Ever since they joined Shadow Mountain, they’ve been home almost every night. They’ve been sent on more training, rescue, and good Samaritan missions than battles. But we knew that wouldn’t last. We knew the NRO wasn’t the only greedy, evil organization out there. Eventually, they were bound to get sucked into another save the world situation.”
Kait sighed, offering a slow nod. “Benioko even said as much when he asked the clones to join Shadow Mountain.”
Faith swallowed hard, her face still white and drawn, her freckles a blazing band across her cheeks. “We’ve been lucky so far. But we need to prepare for what’s coming, for when they leave.”
Demi tensed. Aiden would join the Shadow Mountain forces when they went after the men behind this new weapon. She knew that, without a doubt. Her heart picked up speed, slamming against her ribs. Chills prickled her spine. He wouldn’t stand aside and let the clones and his half-brother’s soldiers take down the monsters who’d killed his team. Instead, he’d do everything possible to shut down this deadly new weapon and the men who’d developed it.
Her stomach churned at the thought. It didn’t matter that she’d broken things off with him. There hadn’t been enough time for her feelings to die. She still loved him. That hadn’t changed. How ironic. The fear and anxiety she’d tried to avoid were already rolling around inside her.
“How in the world do you handle something like this?” she asked out loud, her gaze skimming the tense faces of the women surrounding her. “Knowing someone you love is in danger. How do you stop the fear from eating you alive?”
A few seconds of weighty silence fell before multiple sighs broke the silence.
“By keeping busy,” Kait finally said, with a glance at Beth and then Faith. “At least that’s how we handled it when the guys were fighting the NRO. It helps to have someone to talk to, someone who’s in the same boat, experiencing the same fear.”
Beth nodded. “We stayed busy, and we had each other.” Her lavender eyes darkened and went distant. “While the guys were off fighting, we’d get together. We’d talk, binge Netflix, play cards or board games, discuss books. That’s where the book club idea came from.”
“And wine.” Kait’s lips twisted. She looked half amused and half terrified. “I remember us drinking loads and loads of wine.”
Olivia sighed and rubbed at her furrowed eyebrows. “The worst thing we can do is sit around and obsess about what’s happening to them, worry about the danger they’re in. That’s a surefire way to crazy town.”
Nods of agreement went around the room.
“So, we hang together and stay busy.” Kait squared her shoulders and forced a smile. “We’ll get through this together. Book by book, movie by movie, wine bottle by wine bottle.”
Demi’s swallow got stuck in her throat. She wanted to believe it was as simple as that. She really did. But she could already see the flaws to that approach. Here they were, together, talking books, drinking wine. Their men weren’t even gone yet.
And yet, fear and anxiety were stamped across every one of their faces.