Jake lit the envelope and let it flare to ash in the empty grate. He couldn’t burn the letter yet. He needed to re-read it.
Damn Mateo and guilt-tripping Jake to protect Kiera and the baby, now and after this child was born. Even from the grave, his friend made a problematic situation even more difficult.
Yep. The other Fallen Comrade information in the letter sealed the deal.
They were fucked.
Unless.
Unless Jake could get Kiera to a totally safe location.
Unless he could convince the team to take on a fool’s errand and risk exposure and recapture.
Unless he could resist the urge to personally storm Fallen Comrades and destroy Beau Lequire.
They would be fine if he could keep his virally fueled Mr. Hyde locked away, and avoid freaking out about this woman. The same woman he’d tossed out like trash years ago. If he could do all of those things, then yes, there might be a chance.
So basically, they were fucked.
He glanced at her. His leather recliner dwarfed her slim frame. She had just woken up after a few hours’ nap. Thank God. He’d work on scheduling his own rest period later.
He scowled at her half-full glass of water. Yeah, he had hang-ups. Fixating on hydration was minor compared to the other issues.
Now she sat still, watching him with those big, beautiful eyes like she could see into his soul. Truthfully, Kiera would be shocked to know half of his thoughts where she was concerned. Even now, his memories flashed to that night last summer in Chattanooga, with their limbs tangled and mouths pressed together like air was optional but touching every inch of each other’s skin was not. She had turned to him for comfort after the funeral, and damn Jake, but he could never refuse her anything. It was his chance for a do-over, and he’d messed up.
No way would Jake try to get back into her life now.
What woman would desire a hair-trigger killing machine with a future full of danger and a lifespan that was likely short? She needed protection and data analysis technology from Morpheus Squad, and Jake would make damn sure she safely reached headquarters.
If anyone asked the government, Morpheus Squad and its enhanced members were top-secret weapons that required further testing. Actually, no. For mainstream government and the general public, Project Morpheus and the team didn’t exist. Only a few key lawmakers, military brass, and some twisted genetic engineers knew a fraction of the truth. Once returned to the U.S. and discharged from active military duty, Jake and his super soldier buddies had been destined to spend their retirement as glorified lab rats.
After the team’s escape from the “reintegration facility,” every day dawned with the chance of discovery and recapture. Guaranteed, if Uncle Sam ever caught them again, they would never escape a second time around. That was why all the Morpheus Squad guys did a great job of living bland, unremarkable lives well below the government’s radar.
By helping Kiera, Mateo had risked his freedom. Jake understood why Mateo had done it. Besides, if anyone could hide in plain sight, Mateo was the guy to do it.
It made perfect sense why Mateo needed her to give the data to the Morpheus Squad. The team could collate, analyze, and determine how best to leverage incriminating information. Then they would release the data in such a way that undermined Fallen Comrades but allowed the team to remain in the shadows.
By helping Kiera, Morpheus Squad risked the one thing protecting them: secrecy.
“Fuck.” He crammed a hand through his hair.
Her eyes flashed wide, and she dropped the footrest down with a wince. “What?”
“Shit just got complicated,” he muttered, his brain churning.
Project Morpheus was the government’s dirty secret—an ambitious experiment to solve the biggest military challenges gone horribly wrong. Shit, if other countries’ governments ever got hold of the Morpheus Virus, there could be a world full of aggressive, super-strong, and unstable killers.
At least Jake and his Special Forces team had been selected for their focus and discipline. They were most qualified to handle the virus. He could only imagine the awful possibilities if the virus was given to rogue militia in the Horn of Africa or Russia. Or hell, anywhere.
“You want to tell me what the complication is?” she asked.
“Can’t.”
He had to reach the team. Kiera wasn’t safe on her own. She knew too damn much, like the mere fact that the team existed. However, her presence at the compound would put the security and freedom of each and every member at risk.
Even scarier? God only knew what lengths that bastard Lequire would go to silence her. Any moment, Beau could connect the dots. Kiera to Brady. Brady to Mateo. Mateo to Morpheus Squad.
Everyone and no one wanted her, which meant a hell of a lot of conflicts of interest.
What about the baby? If the government had enjoyed experimenting on his buddies, then Uncle Sam would have a field day with a mutant child. Jake’s hand rolled into a determined fist. Not on his watch.
“We’ve stayed here too long,” he ground out. “Let’s get out of this cabin. Keep moving. Stay far ahead of Lequire.” Operation Get The Hell Out Of Here on deck and ready to implement.
“Okay.” Her auburn brows knitted together, and she sucked in a deep breath as she pushed her way up and out of the chair. Waiting.
“After reading Mateo’s letter, what do you think we should do?” Her low voice stroked him like a smooth palm on his cheek, bringing his attention back to the present. When she spoke, it felt like she whispered the words right next to his ear.
His gut clenched. She doesn’t know what Mateo wrote. The air got stuck halfway up his throat. He couldn’t do what his friend asked—not out of a sense of duty.
Holding the letter and lighting it on fire, he let the burning obligations join the ashes of regret. He turned back around. “First, we need to go to the compound.”
“Compound?”
“It’s time for me to rejoin the team.”
“Rejoin? I don’t understand. You were on the same squad in the Army, and then you all were discharged together, right?”
“In a way, yes. We all … exited the service at the same time, and then reorganized into the covert working group stateside. I haven’t been involved since we left the, uh, military reintegration facility. Then I took time off.”
“What have they been doing while you were gone?”
“According to the letter, they have stayed in the southeast, training and maintaining readiness to regroup when needed. Hiding in plain sight.” Yeah, he’d abandoned his buddies at the worst possible time a year and a half ago.
“So what will you do?”
“Do?”
She pinned him with a hazel stare.
He blinked first. “It’s time to ask the team to take down Lequire.”
“All right then, let’s go. I’ve already been tracked down once this evening. Trust me, it sucks.”
“I bet.” He blinked, flipping into op mode. “All right. Be ready to go in five minutes. There’s a backpack in the bathroom closet. Stash some bars and water bottles in it.”
After snagging the pre-loaded ammo magazines from the living room table and stuffing them in his pockets, he went back to his bedroom. He pulled out his go bag. No need to check it. He inventoried daily. It was stuffed with all-weather gear, various sundries, enough cash to live on for six months, and what few identification documents he possessed. He stared at the locked gun case for a solid five seconds. No. The rest of the guns and accessories could stay here. He didn’t need to withstand a siege or ping an insurgent at 500 yards with a scope. He just had to get Kiera to the compound.
What else? Back in the kitchen, he grabbed the small antidote box.
And two more bottles of water.
As he unplugged the computers, a beep on a blinking screen caught his attention.
Kiera’s eyes widened as she approached.
He shoved the tech into an outside pocket of the go bag, took his jacket off the hook near the door, and flicked off the lights. “They’re coming.”