part0052

M istakes were made, many of them by herself. She’d simply wanted to be nice. The place had seemed like such a sausage fest since she’d joined the team, and with the only other woman looking like a fish out of water, she’d made the decision to try to make the woman feel more comfortable.

That had been the first of many mistakes. And like most errors in judgment, it had seemed like a good idea at the time. Teaching Ivy to hold a gun in a way that suited her body type better had been relaxing. Girl time was at a premium in her line of work, and time when she didn’t have to hide the fact that she could name every single bone in the human body while she broke them was even more at a premium.

It had been a kind of give and take, really. Ivy seemed like she had been starved for a social life—something that sometimes happened with people in her situation, when all the people whom she could interact with had very little in common with her. The conversation had deviated from talking about guns and turned to life stories and ended up with her heading out to coffee with Ivy while the two of them had gotten to know one another. Anderson had taken Damon back to the apartment to give his wife the freedom to actually do something a little normal for once.

After their coffee session, Sam had returned to the apartment she’d tried to settle into ever since she’d arrived in Philly. She’d enjoyed the excursion but believed that would be the end of it unless Ivy wanted another girl’s time out, which she would have been glad to acquiesce to.

The magnitude of the mistake hadn’t become apparent until Anderson called later that night as she’d prepared for bed. He’d told her that Ivy had taken a liking to her, much more than she’d liked the stoic Mixon. It seemed that while the man had all the makings of the perfect bodyguard, the fact that Ivy trusted her made her more suited to protecting the woman and her child.

She’d listened to the long explanation with unusual patience—and yes, that had been mistake number two. He’d detailed his concerns that the people who had targeted him weren’t averse to snatching or murdering his wife and child to accomplish their ends. She couldn’t fault either the logic or the emotion that precipitated mistake number three.

Sam had actually held her breath when he asked her if she’d take over bodyguarding duties as he had to head off to inspect some of the research sites that had been moved to the city. Mixon, of course, would be his ever-present shadow once he was freed of his role on the home front. As part of the changes, the two newer team members had been briefed on who Courtney was and how she fitted into the bigger picture.

The visits were usually Monroe’s job, he explained, but with her stuck in the Zoo, he needed to take over and relay everything back to her. She wasn’t sure how he would accomplish that. Maybe with Anja’s help. She smiled when she recalled the other welcome feminine presence in the operation. Despite her being a disembodied voice, she somehow still checked the like box.

His request had been politely phrased and really made her feel all warm inside. She had honestly felt it was a worthy thing to do to be a bodyguard for Ivy and Damon.

The pleasurable fuzziness had dissipated quickly, though, when her alarm had gone off at the ungodly hour of seven in the morning. It didn’t matter that she had been used to getting up early in the military. Just because she was used to it didn’t mean she liked it.

She’d rolled out of bed amidst a stream of all the curses she’d held in during her time around Mixon. The ongoing vent brought a sense of relaxation she as drove to the apartment building where Ivy and Damon lived and walked them to her car.

Anderson had also asked her to look like a driver—something about keeping up pretenses. It seemed Mixon had trouble with the school drop-off since rich parents didn’t much care to have a strange man hanging around their children. A couple of calls to the cops had forced the team to rethink their strategy. Her mistakes had provided the perfect solution to this particular dilemma. She gritted her teeth at the double whammy. Not only was she babysitting this early in the morning, but she had to act like a chauffeur while doing so.

Well, a chauffeuse, technically.

Damon had talked non-stop during the whole drive, which made Sam’s headache worse than it already was. From the bleary-eyed look on Ivy’s face and the massive cup of coffee in her hand, she assumed her new friend felt similarly drained of energy.

The child didn’t seem to notice. He talked about a video game stream that he’d watched the night before with his father, going over the latest updates of recently released DLC for a looter shooter that now involved a man based in the Zoo. It apparently included beasts resembling those seen in footage released from the jungle. It was interesting, she had to admit. She had a couple of friends who had gone into that place with the troops at the British base on location as well as a few others who were retired, like her, and had been paid handsomely to head out into the most dangerous place on earth.

Not all of them had come back. Those who had didn’t like to talk about what they’d seen. They told her a little, mostly about the money to be made and how it wasn’t enough when you had to face lizards with acid saliva that could melt through steel bars and hardened titanium-weave armor suits.

No, she thought, and let her mind wander as she followed the map on the HUD of the windshield to the school. She considered herself a woman of the world, willing to take any job if the money was good enough. And from all that she’d seen and heard, there would have to be a lot of money involved if she was ever to set foot in there.

There was something about that place that simply wasn’t right. Especially in the way it affected usually rational people. They either loved it or hated it. Either way, the place stuck with them for the rest of their lives, and Sam wasn’t willing to make that kind of commitment to something.

She turned into the lane that led to the drop-off point for the kid and scowled at the long line of limos and armored cars. This was a private school, she realized, one Anderson would never have been able to afford on his government salary. Being the CEO of a controversial company and having a price on his head had at least brought one advantage. She only hoped it was worth it down the line.

It was little wonder, though, that the rich parents so obviously in evidence had recoiled at the idea of Mixon lurking around their little darlings. They obviously felt their wealth entitled them to dictate their own terms of comfort and safety. And Anderson and Savage had been right to be concerned. Rich parents meant connected parents and before you knew it, the alphabet soup would show up because someone’s dad played squash with a director and decided he wasn’t wouldn’t let Weave, Straina or Ellisandrex worry about a strange man.

Rich people were weird. Somehow, the down-to-earth Anderson family were automatically excluded from that sweeping judgment.

She eased in beside the school and leaned back in her seat while Damon gathered his belongings.

“Sam?” Ivy said and leaned forward. “I…uh, to keep up with appearances, would you mind opening the door for Damon? All the other chauffeurs are doing it, and we don’t want to stand out.”

“I’m a chauffeuse, technically.” She suppressed a growl of irritation as she undid her seatbelt and stepped outside.

And immediately realized she was underdressed.

It didn’t help to know that she was probably the most qualified of all these buffoons in slick uniforms and fancy hats. She wore the new hi-tech body armor Anderson had acquired for them, along with a sawed-off prototype shotgun that fired explosive pellets and one of the nifty ceramic knives.

Over that, she wore a trench coat, a black Metallica shirt, jeans, and combat boots. If standing out was bad, she easily rated God awful.

Not that she cared. She felt like she was doing people a favor anyway, and damned if she would dress up for the occasion. Let everyone dress down to her level. At least then, they’d be able to do something if anything happened that required them to take action. She’d tried running and fighting in a fancy suit before. It hadn’t been a pleasant experience.

She moved to the passenger side and opened the door as Damon bounded out.

“Thanks, Aunt Sammy,” he yelled as he sprinted at full tilt toward the school doors.

“You got it kiddo,” Sam said with a grin that she amazingly didn’t have to fake. While she didn’t like being called Sammy since it was a boy’s name, she could endure it when it came from freckles and a silly grin that was missing a couple of teeth.

Her gaze followed his retreating figure as she closed the door and leaned on the car. Didn’t kids hate school? This one seemed delirious with excitement and continued his headlong sprint until he vanished around a corner.

“Hey.” The voice broke into her thoughts and she turned as one of the local bodyguards-slash-chauffeurs wandered over to greet her. He was tall and handsome in that quarterback kind of way, which spelled not her type unless she was five tequila shots in.

“Cheers, mate,” she said and tried to remember the classes about body language she’d taken back in high school as an elective. She really wanted him to go away without having to tell him that.

“You’re new around here. I haven’t seen you at the morning drop-off before.” His chuckle sounded a little smooth and overly confident. “I’m Jason, nice to meet you. Are you British? You have a British accent. I actually have an aunt who lives in London.”

It had only been the one class, she recalled regretfully. And she’d napped through most of it.

“Sam,” she replied and despite her irritation, took his proffered hand and shook it. “I’m a Yorkshire gal myself.”

“Look, I don’t want to tell you how to do your job or anything, but the people around here expect a certain standard when it comes to those who drop their kids off.” Jason’s smile was polite but had a slightly supercilious edge. “Honestly, I dig the nineties rocker outfit as much as the next guy, but if parents see you hanging around their kids, they’ll throw a fit. Rich people do that, am I right?”

She really should have paid attention in that class. Was it something about…posture? Stand up straight and fold your arms to say you don’t want to be talked to? Something about putting up a metaphorical shield?

“You look good, but I’m sure you can do better.” The idiot rambled on, unwittingly digging himself deeper and deeper into a hole he had no idea existed. “I bet you clean up great if you put some effort into it.”

Sam’s eyes refocused from her search to confirm that Damon had safely vanished into the school and turned to face the man. Her features were calm and collected as her trench coat swung open to reveal the body armor and, more importantly, the shotgun she had tucked under her arm.

“Look here, Jason,” she said and made every effort to keep her voice low. “I’ve tried to be nice and social-like to keep from antagonizing the locals, but you done pissed me right the fuck off. I’ve killed twelve...ish men in the past week or so, and don’t think I won’t mind turning you into lucky number thirteen-ish. Don’t ever tell me I clean up well.”

He took a hasty step back and she closed her jacket again.

“Now fuck off.” Damon was, of course, long since tucked inside the school so she had no reason to remain. She spun on her heel and barely gave the idiot another glance before she yanked the driver’s door open and slid inside.

“What happened?” Ivy asked as they eased back into the traffic.

“I was teaching the kids out there what being a real bodyguard is like,” she said with a grin and glanced at Ivy through the rearview mirror. “That and not to bother me when I’m supposed to do my job.”

“The guy out there looked like he was ready to soil himself,” the other woman pointed out with a chuckle.

“Then maybe he’s in the wrong line of work.” She shrugged, pleased to know she hadn’t missed anything important in those classes after all.

Courtney should have been there doing this. That was the mantra playing in Anderson’s head with every step he took into this new research and development facility Pegasus was opening. They were bringing many people into various different locations. Thanks to the shenanigans underway in Pegasus, most of their reestablishment operations needed to be overseen personally, and Courtney had told him not to trust any of the board members.

Which meant there were fifteen of these locations, and he needed to keep a personal eye on all of them. He would visit and receive reports from all the lead scientists on their research projects. Well, that was the story he fed them, anyway. He’d finally given in and let Anja into his ear since the idea behind this was for her to record and transmit everything to Courtney when she wasn’t charging into the Zoo personally and putting this whole plan of theirs in jeopardy.

He’d told her that it wasn’t a good idea to keep doing that, but it wasn’t like he could tell her not to go. She was his boss, technically, and while he trusted her to make the right decisions and listen to him when he had something of value to say from a company perspective, he didn’t actually have a say in how she ran her life.

Which meant he was now forced to listen to one of the lead scientists who explained the various projects they still needed funding for. He had mentioned that the supply still came in from the Zoo despite the upheaval of the ongoing changes. The problem, apparently, was that the Zoo deliveries were behind schedule.

Anderson nodded. “I’ll raise that with the various department heads to see if we can’t hire more personnel to help shoulder the load. We’ve intended to initiate expansions to spread the workload a little. This seems like the perfect place to start training them for that, right?”

“Right,” the man in the lab coat agreed but looked confused. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Colonel, but I thought I would have to sell you on the concept a lot harder.”

“I see where you’re coming from, Dr. Maschick,” Anderson said with a smile. “I really do. And I’m no longer a colonel, by the way, so you can simply call me Anderson. What were we talking about again? Oh, right…well, the current hand at the Pegasus helm actually has her history in research and development, which makes her particularly happy to help you with your work. As it turns out, she’s something of a hardass who has most of the board members wrapped around her fingers like…”

“Putty?” Maschick asked.

“I don’t know if that’s the saying, but sure, let’s go with putty.” He grinned at the image that created in his head as they resumed the tour. “If the truth be told, expansion has always been a part of the plan. The only thing holding the people on the board back would be the cost to hire and train new people—mostly doctoral candidates and the like—only to have them run off when another company makes a higher offer.

“Thanks to Dr. Monroe’s efforts, however, no one will offer them anything remotely better these days, and with the people effectively trained in all these new facilities, we will turn work around much faster. Once that’s done and we’re all back on schedule, we can open other facilities and expand, all with new and trained people working with the highest salaries in the business and on the cutting edges in their respective fields.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Co—Anderson,” Maschick said as they continued the tour. “But you’re nothing like most of the other military people we’ve encountered before. They seemed to think this was something that needed to be rushed or scrapped. We had one of them running a facility once and ended up losing more money than we saved. Which was why he was sacked, of course, but still, that seemed to be more of a cultural issue than only with the one man.”

“Oh, no, don’t get me wrong, I’m one hundred percent like the other military people you’ve met.” He chuckled dryly. “You have to remember that Dr Monroe is the specialist here. While I cannot pretend to have her in-depth knowledge of the work undertaken by this and other facilities, I still have sufficient understanding to relay the relevant details to her. She will make the call about which projects are still worth running, understood?”

Maschick nodded and made a face that Anderson couldn’t quite read.

“I don’t suppose you do any of the research that goes into the weapons production, do you?” he asked and looked around as if in an attempt to answer his question at a glance. He’d worked hard to establish a brisk, no-nonsense, but also approachable persona and hopefully lower the man’s reservations. While he definitely didn’t all the scientific knowledge and understanding at his fingertips—and couldn’t be expected to—this natural ignorance could be readily extrapolated to include a broader vagueness that his companion would hopefully not question.

Courtney and Anderson still had far too many unanswered questions, many of which related to the military projects. With his history, it was entirely natural that he would evidence an interest in that side of Pegasus’ activities. Hopefully, with a few questions thrown into the mix in an almost casual way, he could ferret out a few tidbits of information that might open up a new line of inquiry.

“No, all the projects we run here are for civilian purposes,” Maschick said. “We’re developing goop pulled from the Pita flowers—you know, the one most of our competitors sell as anti-aging cream. We’ve developed it into fuel and found ways to make it recyclable, among other things. These are useful developments with patents either to be sold or maintained for Pegasus, whichever profits the most.”

“Right.” He paused for a moment before he grinned disarmingly. “And where are the facilities that handle the weapons development? The ones that work for the government.”

“Well, I actually have a friend running one of those,” Maschick said with a chuckle. “They moved those to Vegas. Well, Nevada, anyway, since those are the most isolated places, which allows them to actually run proper weapons tests.”

“Interesting,” he said, careful to school his features into mild interest rather than suspicion while he made a mental note of the information. None of the networked facilities had been moved to Nevada, which meant there were still locations working outside the Pegasus umbrella. That was…worrying. It also confirmed the vague, nebulous suspicions that had nagged at them all. Too many potentially lethal unknowns had yet to be unearthed and accounted for.

His phone vibrated, startling him out of his thoughts, and he yanked it a little irritably from his coat pocket. He scowled at Courtney’s name on the caller ID.

The unexpected call was even more worrying. He was still connected to Anja through his earpiece—her occasional snide comments an ongoing cheerful reminder of her presence. She’d gone quiet for a while, thank goodness, but if Courtney wanted to talk to him, she could have simply used Anja’s connection.