Rush (Phoenix Rising) (9 page)

“Those fucking sons of bitches.” His partner wiped a hand over his wet face. He wore a tan T-shirt turned brown with sweat, desert fatigue pants and boots. “What are they doing? They know I need you. Do they want these weapons or not?”

Q started toward his partner . . . he knew his name, but couldn’t remember. Nearing, Q studied his face—strong features, gray eyes, short brown hair, but not as short as Q’s. No scars on his head like Q. “Where . . . are we?”

His partner stared, his eyes like stone. Then a slow smile turned up one side of his mouth, but there was no humor in the expression, only irony. He shook his head and looked at the six hostages again. “Fucking beautiful. The first time I get within choking distance of Gorin, I’m gonna—”

“Gorin?” Q took another quick look in every direction. “This is another test? I’ve never been tested with anyone else before.”

When he refocused on his partner, the man was looking at Q with more pity than anger. His partner’s shoulders sagged. He glanced down at the ground, shook his head. Wiped his forehead again. “This is not a damn test, Q.”

One of the men, the one on the end of the line closest to Q, moved. Barely. Just a shift of weight. But the sound of the sandy ground moving beneath his foot raked across Q’s brain. When the man broke from the line, darting toward the darkness of the nearest tent, Q was already on the balls of his feet, and took off after him.

Q had the back of the man’s shirt gripped in his fist before he ever reached the shade of the tent. Q was already anticipating attack when the man twisted and kicked out. Threw punches, elbows. Q reacted without forethought. Without afterthought. Dodged the blows and hit back. One fist to the nose. One to the gut. One to the jaw.

The guy went down, sending up a puff of sand.

Q stood over him, shaking out his punching hand, holding his aching ribs with the other arm. Breathing hard. “Shit, that hurt.”

“At least you’re still good for something.” His partner, Q still couldn’t remember his name, or what they were partners in, sounded defeated. “Gorin didn’t send you, did he?”

Q didn’t know what that meant. “What makes you say that?”

“You’re still in civvies.”

Q recognized the term for civilian clothes and glanced down at himself. Gray tee, worn jeans, bare feet. Bare feet on hot earth. The burn suddenly registered and Q moved into the shade of a tent.

“How are you getting here if he’s not—?” His partner squinted, his gaze suddenly intense. He seemed to forget the prisoners for a moment, lowering his weapon to take two steps toward Q. But raised it again when one of the men shifted. “Wait. Do you . . . have control over that now, man?” He spoke like he was sharing a secret. “’Cause you gotta tell me how to do it.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know where I am.” He glanced around. “I know . . . I should be here with you, but . . . I can’t remember who you are.”

That tiny flicker of hope Q had seen in his partner’s eyes drained and his hard, gray expression returned. He darted a look at the prisoner, still unconscious on the ground, then refocused on Q. “Well, you may as well be of use for as long as you’re here.”

His partner pulled the strap of a second M90 over his shoulder and tossed the rifle to Q. He caught it in one hand, positioning the trigger beneath his finger without ever looking directly at the weapon. It felt good in his hand. It felt right. Even when Q knew this whole setup was very wrong.

“Take his shoes,” his partner said. “And help me move all the weapons and food into one tent. If I’m lucky, we can finish this mission before you disappear again.”

J
essica glanced out the SUV’s window toward the top of the luxury condos, some twenty stories high while Keira punched the security code into the gate for the underground parking structure. Above the modern building, the sky remained broody and gray, spitting rain flurries, but the lightning, thunder and wind had mostly disappeared.

“This is a pricey building,” Jessica said. “Condos start at a million dollars. But you always told me Mitch runs with a unique crowd.”

“Heh.” Teague smirked toward the rearview mirror where Keira met his gaze. “That’s a creative way to put it.”

“I don’t recall ever using the word
unique
.” Keira paused just inside the gate and both she and Teague took keen interest in watching the gate close all the way to the cement.

Keira’s intensity remained on high as they continued through the lot of mostly luxury vehicles. She lifted the lid on the center console, pulled out a semiautomatic and laid it on her thigh. And the way her gaze swept every shadow of the subterranean lot made Jessica’s shoulders tighten and hunch.

“What are you expecting to happen in a secure parking structure?” Jessica found herself whispering and felt stupid. This whole situation seemed so melodramatic.

“You know enclosed spaces make me jumpy,” she murmured as she backed into a parking spot with cement walls on two sides.

She turned off the vehicle, rolled down her window and leaned toward it, listening. When only silence filled the space, Keira released her seat belt and turned sideways so she had a good view of Jessica.

“We can talk here for a few minutes. Then we’ll head up.”

“Why not just go up?” Jessica asked.

“It’s busy up there,” Teague said. “We can’t talk about some of this in front of the kids.”

“Kids? What k—?” Her confusion turned to shock. “
Kat
’s here? Why is . . . Is
Alyssa
here, too?” She didn’t even need an answer. Wherever Teague and Kat went, his wife, Alyssa, went. Alarm crept in. “She should be home, near the hospital where she’s going to deliver.”

“That’s not possible.” The stress of that fact showed in the tight lines of Teague’s face. “She’s fine and she’ll tell us if she needs anything. As for Kat, she thinks we’re on vacation.”

Jessica’s rain-soaked clothes suddenly registered cold against her skin and she shivered. Gooseflesh rose in painful sheets across her arms and legs. “I feel like I’m on a roller coaster. You know I hate roller coasters.”

“Teague,” Keira said, “grab her a jacket from the back.”

Teague pulled a navy blue parka from the cargo space, clicked Jessica’s seatbelt loose and dragged the jacket around her shoulders. But nothing would warm her now. Alyssa and Kat and this new baby meant everything to Teague. For him to put them at risk meant none of this was at all haphazard on his part. Which meant this was all very real because no one on the team would support Teague putting Alyssa, Kat or the baby at risk.

“Okay—” She stuffed her arms into the jacket and pulled it tight around her. “I’m officially, completely, totally
freaked out
.”

Keira let out a heavy breath and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the seat’s armrest. “We’ll condense this for you, Jess. You don’t need to know all the gritty details right now, just what will keep you grounded, informed and safe. The rest will come in time.”

Jessica fisted her hands in the arms of her jacket and nodded.

“I have a brother,” Keira said. “That’s who we went into the lab to rescue. My brother.”

“A
what
?” Jessica searched her memory for this information, but it was absent. “You never told me about a brother.”

“I thought he’d died in a house fire when I was five. Turns out, he’d run away to escape our abusive mother. How we found each other is a story for later. What I want you to know is that he’s the one who told us about the other prisoner, the man he’s known all these years as Q. We tried to get Q out of the lab, too, but his cell was empty. When we went through his things, we found the coin.”

Jessica’s barriers went up and she sat back. “I thought this was about you and the team. I’ve already told you—”

“Let me finish,” Keira said, firm, but compassionate. “There’s a lot to get through.”

Jessica pulled her lips between her teeth and forced herself to keep quiet.

“A week ago, I went to retrieve a child in what I’d been told was abduction by the non-custodial parent. In the end, it was another twisted attempt by Dargan’s team to manipulate our powers. They wanted access to this boy who turned out to be my nephew, which was how I discovered my brother was alive.”

Keira paused and all Jessica could do was shake her head. She heard Keira, trusted Keira, yet found it difficult to assimilate all this bizarre information. “Why did they want the boy?”

“He’s gifted, like us.”

Jessica’s mouth dropped open. “But how? Our powers came by chemical exposure not heredity.”

“That’s a little more complicated,” Teague said.

“I just wanted to explain that much,” Keira said, “because my brother and nephew are upstairs, too, so you’ll meet them.”

Jessica blew out a breath, already uncomfortable with the idea of reuniting with her entire team. But just as Jessica loved Alyssa and Mitch because they were Teague’s family, she would love Keira’s brother and nephew.

“There’s something I want you to consider, Jessica.” By the serious tone of Keira’s voice, Jessica could already tell she wasn’t interested in considering. “When you think back to the man at the cabin, and compare him to what you remember of Quaid, take into consideration that Quaid was thrown against a cement wall at hundreds of miles per hour. Nearly every bone in his body was shattered.”

Jessica sucked in a sharp breath. Her words brought back a vivid and horrific memory and pain burst at the center of her body.

“We all have some ability to heal ourselves,” Keira said, “so Quaid would have, too. But his injuries were so extensive he might not have been able to heal himself perfectly. It’s important for you to rethink whether or not that man could have been Quaid.”

Keira climbed out and shut the door. Heavy silence followed.

“She’s just trying to—” Teague started.

“What? What
exactly,
Teague? Convince me that my husband
hasn’t
been dead for five years?” Jessica clenched her teeth around the need to lash out. “I know how much you all loved Quaid. I know how badly his death hurt all of you. I can even understand, considering all the bizarre things that have happened to us, entertaining this crazy notion. Hope springs eternal, right?”

She reached for his hand, then met his eyes again. “You just have to be able to understand why I can’t join in, Teague. To do that, I’d have to believe it was possible. To believe something so
im
possible would be setting myself up for relapse. I can barely face the calendar as it is. I wouldn’t survive reviving a hope that would only bring back that loss.” She searched his eyes. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

“I do.” His clear blue gaze never left hers. “So, think of it this way: There is a man being held prisoner and tortured by these sick fucks. He’s a human being, he’s important to Keira’s brother and he deserves his freedom just like we deserve ours. If we could find him and get him back but didn’t at least try, we wouldn’t be able to live with ourselves.”

Jessica squeezed Teague’s hand and nodded. They understood each other. That was something.

When she opened the door, she found Keira waiting, gaze scanning the parking lot, weapon held tight to her thigh.

Silence filled the cherrywood-and-mirror-lined elevator for the ascent of the first several floors and Jessica tried to remember the man from the cabin. But her mind was so full, his image had faded and she gave up.

“Everyone is here,” Teague said, “except Seth. He’s doing some research and will catch up with us when he can.”

Jessica lifted a brow at Keira. “How’s your reunion with the—and I quote—‘pissant-asshole-arrogant-sonofabitch Luke,’ going?”

To Jessica’s surprise, Keira’s mouth kicked up at one corner. She shared a look with Teague before saying, “Better than expected.”

A burst of hope, an emotion Jessica hadn’t felt in a long time, tingled in her chest. “What does that mean?”

The elevator doors slid open on floor sixteen and before Keira answered, Mitch stepped in front of the elevator.

He wore a black button-down open over a white wife-beater and faded jeans. His feet were bare. He would have looked urbanely stylish and handsome if he hadn’t been carrying a semiautomatic, with every knuckle on that hand scraped and raw.

“Looks like you have matching cuts,” Jessica said, taking in the slash on his temple, the few scrapes coloring his opposite cheekbone.

“Told you,” Keira said, passing Mitch with a light jab to his stomach, “he can’t be left out of anything.”

“I’d love to be left out,” Mitch called after her as she followed Teague down the hallway of plush fawn carpet, cherry walls and alcove lighting. “But some people who
can’t count
keep calling me with urgent requests like, ‘Can you trace Keira’s phone? And, yeah, one more thing, I need a plane
and
a pilot.’ ”

“Pffffft.”
Keira dismissed him with an absent wave of her hand. “Whatever you gotta tell yourself, Foster.”

When Mitch’s gaze returned to Jessica, he was grinning that perfect my-parents-spent-a-fortune-on-braces-as-a-kid smile. “Finally, we meet in person. I should have known you’d be just as much trouble as the rest of them.”

She didn’t like the implication that this trouble had anything to do with her, but smiled anyway. “Good to know I still fit in.”

“Oh,” Mitch sighed and swung an arm around her shoulders in a friendly gesture. He walked her toward the open door where Teague and Keira had disappeared. “I’m not so sure that’s such a
good
thing.”

As they neared, the sound of laughter drifted out. A child’s laughter—sweet, light, filled with innocence. Jessica stopped.

Mitch’s arm tugged against her shoulders until he realized she’d paused. He eased back and looked down at her. “You just lost two shades of color, Jess.”

She pulled in a sharp breath, blew it out. The tightness in her chest remained. “Just . . . need a minute.”

“Alone? Or . . . ?”

She darted a look at him, then the door. “I might not make it inside if you leave me alone.”

He nodded, leaned against the doorjamb and slid his fingers halfway into his front pockets. His phone rang three different times, but he didn’t answer. Just waited. Silently. Patiently. Only this wasn’t helping. The more time that passed, the harder it became for Jessica to move her feet forward.

“Kai isn’t here,” he finally said, his voice low and mellow, “if that’s what’s making you—”

“No. I mean it is, but not really.”

Another peal of laughter hit her and she flinched, then laughed, the nervous sound making her unease even more obvious. “Guess it’s been a while since I’ve been around kids,” she murmured. “Didn’t realize . . .”

“That’s Mateo,” Mitch said. “He’s quite a kid. One of those you can’t help but love, you know?”

That’s what she was afraid of. Which made no sense. She nodded. Took a deep breath and looked at the carpet as she blew it out.

“What’s this I hear about you having two shadows following you?” Mitch asked.

“What about it?”

“Everyone else only has one DoD tag-a-long,” he said.

A slight smile turned her mouth. “I learned how to lose them early on. I think they had a problem with that.”

“Nice to see our tax dollars going to such conscientious employees.”

“I thought so.”

“Why were you dodging them?” Mitch’s amusement shone in his hazel eyes. “Needed an excuse to miss one of those scintillating senate hearings?”

Jessica chuckled. “Hardly. I ditch them when I want to hunt for dirt on Schaeffer. Some people knit, some people geocache, I stalk Schaeffer.”

“Yeah?” His dark brows rose. “Get anything good?”

Her amusement faded. “Depends on what you mean by good. I haven’t got enough on a man of his standing in Washington to have him investigated or thrown out of office yet. But it is my goal in life.”

“It’s always good to have a goal. Where do you have your dirt stored?”

“On my laptop.”

Mitch’s face fell. “Don’t tell me your laptop—”

“Is at the office. Yes, it is.” Jessica waited, let Mitch grimace and squirm for a moment, then said, “Luckily, I have all my information stored on three different servers with full mirror backup.”

Mitch’s face registered shock, then slid into a sly grin. “You’re clever. I’ll bet you’ve got some dirty dirt in that library.”

“Dirty is my favorite kind of dirt. Not worth getting if it’s not dirty.”

“Agreed.” He took her hand and tugged her gently toward the door, then stepped aside so she could go in first. “I knew I’d like you.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “You just said you knew I’d be trouble.”

“That, too. Let’s work on downloading that Schaeffer stash ASAP. The sooner I get him off our backs, the sooner we can all relax. And I’d really like to have that happen before my nephew decides to pop into the world.”

“Agreed.”

Mitch put a hand on her shoulder, keeping her from stepping forward. “Do you have any cash with you?”

She shot another look over her shoulder. “Uh . . . no. I don’t have anything with me. We left the office kind of fast. Why?”

“Because Alyssa has the swearing jar out.” Mitch pointed to a small, nondescript jar stuffed with bills sitting on the bar between the kitchen and the dining room. “Just a heads up. And”—he grinned—“it’s always good to know where I can go to borrow some cash.”