Chapter Eight
Secret test facility, Virginia
“Five-One, are you ready?”
Of course he was ready. He was beyond ready. When he’d been told about the test run, he’d wanted to kiss his so-called monitor in gratitude.
“Yes,” he said crisply. “No alcohol or caffeine in my bloodstream. No contaminants. I’m fully rested.”
So that was a white lie. He’d managed to bum some cigarettes from the few patients he’d befriended because he needed a buzz.
They were so lucky not to be in any program that cut off their goodies.
Downtime had been the pits. He hadn’t been able to sleep well at all, not with the headaches and nothing to soothe him.
His heart was beating so loudly in anticipation he was afraid his monitor could hear it. He so, so wanted this, needed this. But he had to be careful and not let the bastards see what the serum was like for him. If they knew, they would probably use the knowledge against him.
And this was perfect. They were going to look in on the bitch and now he could retrieve his cache. He’d been thinking of how she’d done it, hadn’t quite figured that part out yet, but since she took from him, he couldn’t see why he couldn’t take from her too.
“Now you know what your assignment is, right, Five-One?” his monitor prompted him, holding up a sealed envelope.
“Yes, the universal agreement is to go immediately to where the winner of the supersoldier-spy program is and make sure she isn’t in Macedonia. That way we’ll be sure she isn’t in our way this time when we’re there.”
“Yes, that’s right. Do the best you can to describe what you see, and then come back immediately because we’re going to need all your strength for the next assignment. It’s going to be a tough one and we’ll need you one hundred percent.”
One thing he had to say about his monitor, whatever his name was—Thin One, as he called him—he was very succinct in his instructions and knew how to keep him focused.
If it had been Fat One, things would have gone disastrously wrong from the get-go.
He couldn’t focus when there was such impatience and ridicule around him.
He glanced at Fat One. Maybe that was why he was sitting across the room this time and not taking up so much of his personal space. Maybe Thin One told his friend to shut up for once.
“Not a problem,” he told his monitor. “I’ll focus on her and make sure she’s nowhere in Macedonia, or going there.”
If he could, he’d make damn sure she would feel as lost as he was right now.
“Good. Take a deep breath. Focus on the soundwaves while I inject the serum into you. There you go. Five-One, think of the envelope and tell me when you’re where you’re supposed to be. Details, please.”
He did as he was told. Remote viewing wasn’t a complicated process for him any more. Once his brainwaves went to theta, he could bilocate—go to the agreed universal location—without even being conscious about it.
The heat of the serum. Oh, God, the rush, the rush. He felt his head go back as the heady feeling spread inside him. Trigger code...
Switch to channel three. Set programming time. Set channel.
Timer on. Record.
“I feel the coordinates,” he announced.
“Bilocate,” his monitor ordered.
He hoped he wasn’t shouting his joy as power surged through him. Fast forward! Fast forward!
And there the bitch was, right in front of him.
JED BECKONED TO HELEN with a slight shake of his head.
He was done. He quelled the amusement that rose up as he watched her affecting an exaggerated shuffle, dragging one foot behind her while holding one hand against her chest as if she was disfigured, and awkwardly swinging the other hand, in such perfect imitation of a hunchback that there was no mistaking who she was impersonating.
She was something else. No woman who knew him here would dare make fun of him in quite that way. The bold ones flirted. The married ones gossiped. Those who disagreed with him were still careful with words and actions. No one had ever pretended to be the classic Igor to mock him.
“Your leg must be hurting you more again,” he commented. “I must not have taken care of it enough the other night.”
He enjoyed the way her eyes narrowed, the way her lips curled down into that sinfully sexy pout. She had no idea what she did to him every time she came close. In fact, neither had he anticipated it, since all he’d ever done was watch her on-screen and interact with her through virtual reality.
Meeting Helen Roston in real life was like watching HDTV for the first time.
Everything about her was more vibrant, taking his breath away.
He’d never get tired of looking at her. Of wanting her.
His desire was like a freight train. One could see it coming; one could even brace for it; but there was no avoiding the oncoming collision.
Also, her sassy and quirky humor made him see something in a different light. Like now, for instance. What woman would mock herself as Igor to his Frankenstein?
“Who are those two?” she asked.
“Checks and balances.” He keyed the door open and they both exited.
She frowned. “What does that mean?”
“Show any deficit or overextension, and someone somewhere will find a reason to put you more behind.”
“I mean their names,” she said.
He glanced at her. “They change faces, so it’s easier to just remember them as checks and balances. You’ll see what I mean the more you deal with them.” He glanced at his watch. “One more appointment.”
“Can we first pick up some food? I’m starving.”
So was he. But then he’d never liked to eat much after finishing an assignment.
“We’ll be eating with Admiral Madison,” he told her, watching the surprise in her eyes. “So that should take care of that problem.”
“The same admiral from the group of department heads watching me during the test run? The one with the nice voice.”
Amusement filled him again. He’d bet the admiral—a tall, distinguished man, with medals hanging out his ass, and whose valor on the field earned him the nickname “Mad Dog”—had never been recognized for just his “nice” voice before.
“Yes. The SEALs we’re conducting the joint venture with are his boys. ”
“Ah. Makes sense now. Do I just show up with you? How does one dress for a meal with an admiral, anyway? Not that it’s going to matter, since I don’t have any change of clothes at Center other than workout and casual.”
Jed glanced at her again. She was talking quickly. There was a faint blush on her cheeks, as if she was aware that she’d given herself away.
“It’s coming back again,” he observed. “Our time in the elevator alleviated your condition for a while, but it wasn’t enough to stop it.”
Her cheeks went even pinker. “You’re making it sound as if you did that to help me out,” she muttered. “I’d feel a lot better if I didn’t feel so helpless against it. It makes it impossible for me to think, and you’re using it against me.”
“Yes,” he acknowledged.
“I should’ve seen it coming,” she continued. “I knew you were up to something but I kept getting distracted by all that techy stuff.”
He could tell that she wasn’t really talking to him, that she was trying to distract herself now.
He frowned. He didn’t want her to suffer.
After feeling a little bit of what she was going through while they were connected in VR, he understood her distress.
The inability to control one’s impulses would frustrate him too.
He put a finger under her chin, tilting her head up. “Everything’s going to be all right. We’ll fix this.” He frowned. Her eyes were dilated. “What’s the matter?”
“I’m not sure,” she breathed. She touched her forehead tentatively. “Tension.”
“Tension? As in headache?”
She nodded, then shook her head, as if she couldn’t decide. She jerked her head out of his hold, sweeping her surroundings. Her body language was tense. Jed looked around too. Nothing.
CHANNEL THREE. ZOOM in.
That was her! He was sure of it. Tall. Long brown hair.
Pretty eyes. She was quite an attractive woman, which was surprising.
He’d thought she’d look like some big biker chick, considering that she could climb ropes and wrestle with those fucking special ops trainers. Those assholes were mean fighters.
So his image of her was totally one-eighty.
She looked a lot softer from this distance.
He gazed at her body appreciatively. And nice curves.
He ignored the man by her side as he reached out with his senses.
No thoughts of Macedonia. No plans. He took one step closer to her, mentally opening all his channels, and almost moaned out loud.
Holy shit. His dick instantly went hard, stopping him in his tracks.
Holy. Shit. She was emanating sexual energy like he’d never felt before.
That was her, all right, with his cache and what was more, she had been sexing it up with that man beside her.
Even from here, he could feel the combined sexual energy between them, waiting, waiting for him to taste, to bathe in.
Erotic need blanketed his mind as he probed the energy field. This was a first for him, to actually feel so much from this far away. Usually, he just “saw” the energy and had learned to recognize certain types as sexual afterglow.
His own need rose hungrily, eagerly. She had had plenty of sex recently.
Her energy was heavy with desire, as if she was still in a sexual state.
Those two must have just had it in this hallway and he’d missed it, dammit.
He would have loved to have been there, watching them.
No matter, soon he would get her memories and watch those moments for himself.
A mental picture of her on her knees slammed into his senses. He felt his erection stretched so painfully, he couldn’t think at all. This was going to be so good.
He had to have it all. Had to take what was his back and more. Her energy was delicious, so strong that he just wanted to stand there and jack off.
“Agent Five-One? Details.”