Chapter Nineteen #3
She felt a small shiver running down her back at the thought of Heath Cliffe in a room alone with the woman she saw.
She’d spent last night with one of them, had practically enjoyed relinquishing control to him, and for the first time, she understood a little of these men’s training.
It wasn’t all physical strength and macho stuff like the guys against whom she’d been pitted.
These men were—she searched for a word—untamed.
Working outside the boundaries, and given the freedom to live in the shadows like they do, would be bound to unleash a certain wildness in a man.
Yet, studying them, she saw that they were bound to some kind of duty, or at least, they appeared to be bound by responsibility because if they weren’t, they wouldn’t be here.
She wondered about each of these men’s backgrounds—who they were and what brought them here to black operations.
The more she learned about them, the more this world of shadows fit them well.
Each of these men, sitting here looking so civilized around a table, was not quite tamed.
The few times she’d been alone with one of them had shown her one thing.
They disregarded rules and ethics when it fit their purpose, and their agenda, she realized, was never black and white.
Not Armando’s. Not Heath’s. Not even Diamond’s. And definitely not whoever Hades was.
At that precise moment, Flyboy caught her eye and signaled to her that he’d call her later.
He gave her another one of his devastating smiles.
When exactly had he returned from his satellite tracking?
Surely it hadn’t taken that long once he found out that the CIA used one of their own secret landing strips?
She smiled back sweetly. They were her wild beasts and she would learn to train them.
CIA secret medical facility
The voices were faint but he heard them. They were discussing their next step. It always paid to pretend not to be aware of everything.
“They’ll track back to our department but I think we’re safe for now. They’re going to think it’s the RV department anyway.”
“I can’t believe she’s that good. She’s just achieved Level Two, according to the reports.”
“Yes, but don’t forget it’s her physical training that’s gotten her out of this. She beat out the rest of the candidates, you know, so she’s got to be damn good.”
“What we need is to find one of these candidates and get him to kill her for us. We can’t afford this. She’s a threat to our network in the CIA, even more so than the fucking admiral’s internal investigations and committee overviews.”
“We need to lay low for a while. We have our own remote viewer, hell, a whole hospital of them, if we need more. We have our own serum. We have what we need to counter any of their moves, if they’re going to use her to spy on our activities.
Don’t worry. We’ve been around for over a decade.
No one’s going to dig us out that easily.
Meanwhile, we have to hide him. He’s still useful. Did pretty good back there.”
“Yes, but look at him staring into space like a madman. Not going to last, man.”
“Like I said, the facility has plenty of candidates.”
He was afraid. Mad. Not that kind of mad. He wasn’t a lunatic, no matter what those fuckers think. He was pissed-off mad.
All his beautiful collection of images…gone.
They were gone! Ever since his remote viewing self had bumped into that woman in the stairs, ever since that awful experience—whatever it was—he hadn’t been able to rewind.
Empty. Like a blank tape. There wasn’t one image left.
Empty. That other viewer had sucked it out of him somehow.
It had been what had kept him going all these months when they’d abandoned him in this stupid hospital, the images and all those feelings he’d collected from the people from whom he’d taken them.
The memories of their sex lives—how he loved the glow of their lust rushing in him.
And he had collected some really sexy ones this last time too, especially from that woman everyone was after, the one who had a husband.
She was mighty fine and what a hot lusty kinky babe.
Always wanting sex, that one…oh the lost images!
He could remember them, but who the fuck cared about memories when he couldn’t rewind and taste the energy?
That woman he’d bumped into—he had to somehow find that woman and get it back.
It had to be inside her still and she was probably enjoying his collection.
Somehow, she’d stolen it from him. He’d heard his monitors talking about her, that she could remote view and then physically lead a team into action without her needing any downtime, so that meant she was on the serum, too, only something better.
Something way stronger because she had fucking stolen his images without being in remote-viewing mode! How the fuck did she do that?
Empty. He wanted to howl, but he had to somehow behave normally after this downtime.
He was just doubly depressed, that was all.
He was going to convince them to give him the serum again, so he could collect some images.
Then maybe he could get two doses, like before, and explore that power again.
Only he had to be very careful not to let any of these fuckers know.
When he was stronger, he’d think of this woman. Find her. Take back what was his.