Chapter Twenty-Two

I t took Jessica longer than she would have liked before she finally managed to calm herself. Surprisingly, he had remained with her for the duration despite that he was probably uncomfortable with the sight of a crying woman. All she’d wanted was for him to give her the time to process it.

From what she’d seen, he was definitely unaware of that, but he made the good choice to not crowd her while he remained somewhere close in case she needed him.

She wasn’t sure how long she had spent in bed, how long she had been asleep, or what time it was. All she really knew was that it was morning, and she still felt sore from the day before. She wasn’t sure how long that would last. She had taken a couple of anesthesiology classes for extra credits when she’d studied for her masters, but she didn’t remember much of anything about them, much less the effects that usually came after.

No, she did remember. After surgery, people tended to feel sore due to what their bodies had gone through. All things considered, she had been handled roughly, even after she’d been rescued like the world’s lamest damsel in distress. No matter how gentle it had been, she had been buffeted without being able to protect herself from it, which was why she felt sore.

Jessica had come to terms with the fact that someone out there wanted her dead, but she didn’t understand why. She pushed from the bed as Jeremiah finally stood and walked toward the minibar. He pulled a couple of small bottles of vodka from the compartment.

“I don’t know about you, but I need a drink,” he said and dropped a couple of ice cubes from the bucket into a glass. “Might I interest you in some self-medication?”

“Isn’t that considered a no-no after being injected with surgery juice?” she asked.

“Well, you were halfway trashed when they injected you with it in the first place,” he replied with a shrug. “Anyway, cheers.” He poured two of the bottles into the glass and swished it in his hand for a moment before he took a sip. His face twisted as the burn traced down his throat.

“This stuff sucks balls,” he lamented and shook his head. “Of all the things to skimp on in a motel room.”

Jessica chuckled. He narrowed his eyes at her as he took another sip.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” The disclaimer didn’t work as she still stifled laughter behind her hand. “I think it’s hilarious how we’re in a situation where both our lives are in serious danger and all you have to complain about is the alcohol.”

Jeremiah smirked. “Yeah, well, I’ve been in situations like these before. Enough times to be able to go with the flow and complain about the smaller, more important things in life.”

She smiled, moved quickly, and joined him at the minibar. She didn’t bother with the ice and instead, poured herself one of the tiny bottles of vodka and sipped cautiously. He was right. It was terrible. She could still taste the fermenting potatoes. On the upside, she could taste the alcohol too.

“So, I guess you’re not working for that security company,” she said as she sat on the bed once more while he reclaimed the chair he’d used. “And you say you’ve been in dangerous situations before, so I have to assume you’re not an insurance adjuster.”

“I was in the military for most of my adult life,” he admitted with a smile.

“So, all that stuff about being in the Zoo—”

“Bullshit.” He sipped and made another sour face. “You seemed to have a fascination with the place, so I had a birdie on my shoulder feed me a couple of stories from other people’s experiences. It seemed to work well. I think you would have told me everything I wanted to know after that line. Some offense intended.”

Jessica laughed. “God, I was pathetic last night. I had just been fired from the only job I’ve had for the past decade or so, and I tried to cope with that with some—what did you call it?—self-medication. And a date with a man whom I thought was interesting and different from the men that I usually go out with.”

“In your defense, the way the night went wasn’t your fault,” Jeremiah replied and drained his glass of the terrible vodka. “I played the role of the lying asshole—although, in my defense, I did it for…well, I suppose they call it corporate espionage purposes. Then, I had to save you from other assholes who wanted to kill you. In that case, I’d say that you aren’t to blame for anything that happened last night. You were vulnerable and taken advantage of. Not in that way, but you know what I mean.”

“Would it really shock you if I told you that doesn’t make me feel any better?” She leaned back on the bed and placed her empty glass on the covers that she’d slept on top of the night before. She didn’t feel particularly rested, but she wouldn’t fall asleep now.

“The truth isn’t there to make you feel better,” he said softly as he toyed with his glass. “But yeah, I get it. Just because it’s not directly your fault, it won’t keep you from feeling guilty. And the fact that you know you shouldn’t feel that way only makes things worse.”

“You sound like you’ve been through something like this before.” Jessica kept her gaze fixed on the ceiling. “Is that a part of your history in the military?”

“I was a part of a black ops unit in the US Army.” His voice was low and level. “One of the missions we were sent on went bad. The other members of my team ended up dead thanks to some bad intel we were fed. I managed to carry one of them out, but I was wounded too, and when I woke up, I was told that he died on the operating table. I was in command of that squad, and the fact that I should blame some intel officer sitting in an office in Langley, Virginia, doesn’t take away from the fact that what happened out there was my fault. Nothing will change that in my mind. So yeah, I’ve been through something like that before.”

“Way to show me up,” Jessica said and chuckled as she shifted to lean on her hands. “Is that another one of your Zoo stories?”

“I wish.” Jeremiah shook his head with real regret. “After what happened, people in high places—places so high you’d think they wouldn’t mind the occasional hit of pot—decided they wanted me gone. They had to make sure that I never ever talked about what happened there again. Of course, they could have simply ‘erased’ me. Instead, they gave me a new name, a chunk of money, and proceeded to tell my family, friends, and loved ones that I’d died overseas. Seriously, they had the fucking funeral while I was in physical therapy. No more lies. I don’t want to put up with them anymore.”

She leaned forward and fixed him with a look that was part irritation and part empathy. In all her time processing, she had forgotten that there were other people suffering out there too.

“You still shouldn’t have lied to me,” she said softly.

“If you want an apology, you won’t get one,” he said, and his voice took on a colder note than she’d heard from him before. “I stand by what I did like I stand by the reasons for it—as well as the fact that I saved your damn life. At the same time, I don’t expect you to forgive me for what I did either. But if you want me to feel remorse, I’ll tell you right now that it’s a long wait for a train that won’t come because you’re standing on a track that was abandoned since the 1870s.”

“What?” Jessica asked, her expression now simply confused.

“I get the most creative with my insults when I’m angry,” he explained and shook his head.

She nodded. “If you don’t feel any guilt, why are you angry in the first place?”

He opened his mouth to respond but stopped before he said anything. She wondered if she had won an argument with him before she realized that he was actually listening. Obviously, she couldn’t hear anything, but he tilted his head and his eyes went out of focus in the same way that most people reacted when they wanted to focus more on what they heard than what they saw. That told her he was intent on something she wasn’t party to.

“What?” she asked, but he raised his forefinger at her in silence. He didn’t reach for the weapon—which she now realized bulged under his shirt—but whatever it was that he heard seemed to worry him.

“I know they’re all dead,” he stated.

“Who is all dead?” Jessica asked, and he rolled his eyes.

“Is there any way for you to include her in this conversation?” Jeremiah asked. “I really don’t want to play translator between you and her— Yes, I know she’s an unknown element, but in this case, considering that she’s one of the prospective victims… Oh, fine, I’ll make sure she doesn’t leave my sight. And I won’t tell her your name.”

“I already know her name is Anja,” she interjected into what was, to her, a one-sided conversation.

“Shit,” he protested. “Well, even I don’t know your last name, so how the fuck am I supposed to tell her that… Okay, fine… What, she still has her phone? Can’t people track her through it?”

Immediately, she glanced around the room. She’d somehow assumed that she’d lost her phone in the tussle, but as it now vibrated in her pocket, apparently not. A little startled, she retrieved it and scowled at the blocked number indicator on the display. There really was no way to determine who or where the call came from. She pressed accept and put the phone to her ear.

“Good, now I can talk to both of you at the same time,” Anja said softly. “For starters, I blocked any signals coming or going from your phone the moment that it connected to the motel’s wi-fi. Which, by the way, could only happen if you’d been there before and had connected to it already. Is there something you want to tell us about, Jessica?”

“We’re not here to pass judgment or make people feel bad for past choices,” Jeremiah said, although he did give her an odd look. Not judgment, per se, but a question that she knew he would address later. Not that she would answer any questions, of course.

“Anyway, the connection should be secure for now, although I wouldn’t trust that,” the hacker continued. “I would still suggest that the two of you check out after this call and find a new place to stay. Oh, and get rid of that phone.”

“I still have five months on my plan,” Jessica complained.

“Well, I checked on your provider and they have you insured for a new phone should it be lost or stolen, you loyal customer you,” Anja responded with a cheeky chuckle.

“And about the whole check out together thing?” Jessica asked. “Shouldn’t I head home? You know, to allay suspicion or let people know that I’m not actually a threat or anything like that?”

“That would be nice, yes, in a perfect world. But I assume Jer has told you about the deaths of the researchers who worked for Pegasus around there.” The hacker sounded a little angry. “They’ve still put some effort in to make them look like accidents or natural causes, but a couple of them have been home invasions. That makes me think that the order is out that the priority is to make everyone dead first and be careful about it later. They all happened last night. Carlson must have a ton of resources to back him in this.”

“Well, the man did run a government-funded research lab,” Jeremiah mused aloud. “He has to have connections in the private security business who wouldn’t mind taking care of some in-house cleaning for him.”

“Private security?” Jessica asked.

“Companies that hire mercenaries from all around the world and pay them to basically be government-sanctioned hitmen,” he explained in a tone that told her that she should know all this by now. “Okay, so let’s run the numbers. Were there any other hits last night I don’t know about? He would have brought everyone he could in if he was in a hurry. Oh, and how come the police haven’t made the connection between the dead people and Pegasus?”

“In order?” Anja said. “The number of people who died last night was six. Of course, we don’t know yet if there are others that happened before. I’ve only run the checks on the scientists themselves, not support staff. I don’t know how many people he would need for that many hits at the same time.”

“They wouldn’t want to have teams doing more than one job in a single night.” He pushed out of the chair. “That much pressure leads to mistakes. So, six teams, including the one that went after Jessica last night. I’d say about three to six members per team. Fireteams are how these people usually operate. That means…between eighteen and thirty-six men on call. Fuck.”

“And regarding your second question,” the Russian said once he stopped talking. “Most of the murders happened in different counties, so different police forces are involved. Plus, most of them didn’t look like murders. And finally, the fact that their documentation was worded to make their connection to Pegasus as tenuous as possible, it’ll be a while before the local PDs catch wind of what’s happening.”

“Ten bucks says that if anything was left behind, it’ll be left to incriminate Anderson and Monroe,” Jeremiah said with a chuckle.

“No bet,” she responded smartly.

“Who are Anderson and Monroe?” Jessica asked.

“Our benevolent overlords,” he said with a grin. “Also known as the people paying the bills. My bills, anyway. Do you know where Carlson is at the moment? I think it’s time that he and I had a little chat. I’m talking to you now, Anja.”

“Well, he chartered a company plane to fly him to Philadelphia on Saturday morning, but he never arrived. I’d say that our friend Carlson has a bad case of micromanage-itis, and he wanted to make sure that the house cleaning was done before he heads back to deal with our…what did you call them, benevolent overlords? Is that how you really think of them right now?”

Jeremiah narrowed his eyes. “Am I wrong in assuming that you told them about this, and they told you to fill me in? Or in assuming that you’ve already told them everything that happened last night and are now simply waiting for their orders on our next move?”

“Well, in my defense, I’m only doing this as a favor to a friend,” Anja replied.

“Well, my benevolent overlords, then.” He shook his head to help him refocus. “But back on track, I assume Monroe and Anderson didn’t okay me having a heart to heart with Carlson, or you would have told me where he is by now instead of telling me where he isn’t.”

“Well, yes.” Anja laughed. “But I’m sure they’ll agree with you. A chat with Carlson is in order. Too many people are dying, and we need to make sure that this all stops now.”

“In the meantime, I need to make sure that Dr. Coleman is alive and well, yes?”

“That is correct,” Anja replied softly. “Good luck and be safe, Savage.”

He nodded and the connection on Jessica’s phone cut.

“Did she call you a savage?” she asked as he moved over to her.

“That’s a loaded question,” he responded as he extended his hand and suddenly spoke in an Austrian accent. “Your phone, give it to me.”

“What will you do with it?” she asked.

“Break it and flush it down the toilet.” He shrugged off her instinctive protests. “The best and quickest way to get rid of technology is to waterlog it. Everyone knows this.”

“Fine.” Jessica rolled her eyes and slapped her phone into his hand. “And why would you say that it was a loaded question?”

“Because the answer is both yes and no at the same time—a remarkably resounding no, actually.” Jeremiah took the phone and strode to the bathroom. After a few moments, the toilet flushed but she ignored it. There really was no reason to bother with it. All her data was saved to a cloud, anyway, so she would be able to access it again. She felt bad, knowing that her parents would call and try to contact her over what was happening. The best decision in this situation seemed to elude her. She honestly didn’t know if she should involve them—even if only to tell them to be careful—or leave them entirely in the dark.

Once he exited the bathroom, she stepped inside and stared at herself in the mirror. She hardly recognized the woman who gazed back at her. Her neat, shoulder-length hair was tousled, and her pretty green eyes were bruised—probably more from shock and the heavy anesthesia than from anything else, she decided. Still, those same eyes were haunted by what had happened. Inner scars remained from the loss of her long-time job, the men’s attack and attempted kidnapping, and the sudden deaths of her fellow researchers.

Plus, she couldn’t shake the realization of how complicated her life had become and would continue to be going forward—if she survived that long. Only a week before, she’d been merely another researcher studying mind-blowing materials. The mind-blowing part was true but other than that, she had been nothing more than one of the faceless hordes that worked on deciphering the secrets smuggled from the Zoo. Now, she was on the run, her life saved by some almost-handsome but definitely messed-up military goon. How fucked up was that?

She shook her head as she left the bathroom and asked Savage, “Will you explain why Anja called you a savage?”

“The short of it is that, after that whole thing about my life that I told you about, I was given the offer to choose my own name,” he replied with a smile. “I kept my real first name but drew a blank when it came to the last. My boss said I might need to be savage when it came to this job. I liked it and decided to keep it.”

“Well, most people have their parents to blame for terrible name choices,” Jessica said with a smirk, but she frowned and looked around. “Where are my glasses?”

“Your glasses are in your purse, where I put them.” He tipped his chin at the purse sitting on a chair in the corner of the room.” Then, he continued, “I thought I’d blamed myself for enough already, so I might as well have fun with my own name choice.” He grinned to take the seriousness out of the words. “Get ready, okay? Anja said that people might have tracked your phone to locate you. I wouldn’t put it above Carlson to already have someone doing a survey of our location before they send one of the fireteams in to kill us. I want to make sure that nobody knows we’re gone until it’s too late.”

“What will you do?” She stood hastily to collect her bag.

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Be a savage, of course.”

“Thanks, Anja, I’ll be in touch,” Courtney said and ended the call as she looked over the conference table at Anderson and Robinson, her business manager and assistant, both of whom worked hard to handle all the paperwork that was required to change the name on the front of a company.

Well, technically, the lawyers handled the paperwork. Anderson and Robinson examined it to make sure it was in order before she signed it.

“How is our Russian friend?” Anderson asked and glanced up from his work. He looked tired. And damn, Courtney felt tired too. She’d spent more time in this conference room than at the apartment the company had set up for her in Philly. She even had a beautiful corner office that she’d only been into a couple of times. Since all her time was spent down there, working with other people was a lot simpler than having to call them up to her version of Olympus.

Of course, she thought with a frustrated sigh, how long it remained hers depended on how the rest of their work went.

She almost envied Savage the freedom he’d been given. In his case, paperwork was something to be avoided since it led to a trail. Up there in the clouds, everything needed a paper trail. That was one of the costs of being legit, she acknowledged.

“She tells me that most of the scientists involved in the research are already dead,” Courtney said softly. “Savage is keeping the one he contacted alive for the moment, but things don’t look good for any others he might have on his list. Jeremiah wants to talk to Carlson himself and make him call his dogs off, but we can’t bet on how successful that will be.”

“Savage getting to Carlson, or trying to convince Carlson to stop whatever it is that he’s doing?” Anderson asked. He set his papers down and rubbed his eyes. They already looked red and tender, but he was a man of focus and purpose. She doubted that she could drag him from the conference room.

“Either?” Robinson interjected. “I don’t doubt Savage’s competence here. I’m only stating the obvious. We know about Carlson’s connections and about the number of people in high places who are invested in him staying in control of Pegasus. Savage is good, but he’s up against an army.”

The older man drew a deep breath before he focused on Courtney. “He’s not wrong. Savage has a lot of people to go through to reach Carlson—and that’s assuming he isn’t above doing what every other person in the world would do if someone came after him, which is to call the cops. If he confronts Carlson, it could spell disaster for all of us, including him.”

“What are our options?” she asked and leaned her head wearily against the padded backrest.

“Well, Savage has gathered all the intelligence he can,” Anderson said. “He has a witness to what Pegasus did in the facility—someone who survived an assassination attempt.”

“The first step to make sure survivors can’t hurt you is to discredit them,” Robinson said and looked around when the two stared at him for a moment. “What? I read spy novels. Tom Clancy is kind of my jam.”

“Right,” the other man said. “Then again, he’s not wrong. Dr. Coleman needs to give us actionable intelligence. We won’t be able to take any of this to court if it comes down to it.”

She nodded. “I’ll tell Anja to let Savage know that he should probably run an in-depth with Dr. Coleman about what she did at that facility and where everything was moved to. Carlson has planned for this for a while, it seems, but there has to be a crack in his armor. Something we can use against him.”

“And while we don’t want Savage to actually engage Carlson personally, you might want to think about getting information from him,” the ex-colonel said with a shrug. “Our target is still in a hotel in Charlotte, which is about as vulnerable as he’ll get. Savage actually has a better chance to find intel there than in the fortress Carlson has here in Philly.”

Courtney nodded. “Good point. I’ll pass it along.”

Exhaustion weighed on her nerves, but she pushed herself to reach for her phone. As it turned out, taking Pegasus down from the inside was a difficult, dangerous process—one that had already stirred far more hazards than she’d anticipated.

Of course, the Zoo was full of monstrosities, but this was something else. It was equally as devious, if less inventive in the use of evolution to create death and destruction. She was out of her depth.

This wasn’t the first time she found herself wishing she could return to the Zoo, and she doubted that it would be the last. Still, she would sleep for a week when this was all over.