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“Mac?” Light filtered into his temporary quarters from the hall as someone eased the door open. “It’s Colette. Are you here?”
He stepped out from behind the door—and had to grab her wrist before she shot him with her pistol. “You knew they were coming after me.”
“Too late to warn you.” She holstered her pistol and stepped in, closing the door behind her. “I’m sorry, Mac—Harper stomped in like he owned the place, and demanded a top to bottom tour. Dr. Kinimoto agreed, and then he confined everyone to quarters, with his men as guards to make sure we didn’t leave. I—I’m glad you’re all right.”
“Are you?”
“How can you even ask—” She cut herself off. She knew damn well why he asked.
He studied her until she blushed. She spun, and walked over to the fold away bed, keeping her back to him.
“I managed to hide under the desk in the lab.” He rubbed his face, exhausted from a sleepless night of working out calculations on his handheld. Right now, he needed someone to talk to, and she was it. “I had them, Colette, for a few seconds. But the connection was so bad I only got a few words from Elizabeth before I lost it.”
“And you’re doing what?” She finally met his gaze, her composure firmly in place. “Sitting around moping about it?”
“Trying to figure out what five random words mean.” He stalked across the room and shoved the list at her. “It’s taking weeks on that piece of archaic—” He cut himself off before he started swearing in front of her, and dropped to the narrow, uncomfortable bed, irritated and frustrated with his lack of progress.
Colette studied the list as she sat next to him. He blinked at his reaction to her, and stood, needing to put space between them before he did something stupid. Like kiss her.
“Two ad.” Her voice jerked him back. “Could be AD, like a date.”
“Where?” She pointed at the entry. The last thing Elizabeth said. “Stupid—I am so stupid.” He grabbed his handheld off the nightstand and punched it in, along with the other keywords. The search took longer, since they were far enough from the wireless to make it miserable. “Come on—bingo. Got a... oh, God.”
“Mac?” She moved to his side, lowered the screen until she could see it. “Is that it?”
“If this is right... they’re in Roman Britain. On Hadrian’s Wall.” He met her eyes, dread coiling in his gut. “We’re not supposed to be able to go back that far.”
God—no wonder he couldn’t find them. He wasn’t looking in the right centuries.
“Does this mean you can’t help them?”
“I don’t know, damn it! I need a real console, equipment that doesn’t groan when I touch it. I need you to get me back into the main lab.”
“Shit, is that all? Let me just escort you myself, Mr. Macaffrey. You want leg shackles with that visit, or just handcuffs?”
Mac smiled, her sarcasm pulling him out of his funk. “I’ll take none of the above.” His smile faded as he leaned against the wall. “I’m serious, though. I need to get in there. Just long enough to run a couple hunches through the big console.”
“I might be able to get you in.” She scanned him head to toe, and he felt like a show horse. “Yeah, it would work—but you’re not going to like it.”
~ ~ ~
She was right. He didn’t like it one damn bit.
Staring at himself in the mirror, Mac tried not to fidget in the borrowed Security uniform. Black never did suit him—he always looked like he was the corpse headed for a funeral. Maybe that’d work in his favor this time.
He followed Colette out of the locker room, and toward the main lab. He planned to bolt if he saw Harper, to keep her from taking the blame. She’d already risked too much by not killing him.
They made it to the lab without running into anyone, much easier since Doc cleared most everyone out of the building after lockdown. Mac wouldn’t be surprised if Harper booted out the rest, and installed his own pack of obedient rats.
He sprinted over to the main console and used the manual override to avoid scanning his palm print. Since he was supposed to be missing or dead, he’d like people to keep thinking he was, at least until he got Kane and Elizabeth back.
Then they’d take the rat bastard down.
The console hummed to life. As soon as the screen appeared Mac was tapping on it. The information that streamed across the screen was beautiful. He slid in an info chip and sent everything to it. He could download to his handheld and sort through it later.
“Mac!” Colette’s urgent whisper snapped his head up.
He nodded, executed one more search before he popped out the chip and hauled ass back to the door. Colette slid out first, held out her hand, then gestured for him to follow. His heart pounded harder with every hallway they passed through, until they approached the annex between the new building and the old. The familiar voice froze him inches from rounding the corner.
“Tell me what I want to know, and the pain will end. I promise you.” Harper’s slick voice echoed down the hall. From the direction of Mac’s hidey hole.
Colette stepped in front of him, drawing her pistol. He started to say something and she pressed her finger against his lips, shaking her head. Once he nodded, she inched along the wall—then waved at him to join her.
He saw why as soon as he reached her side. There was a surveillance mirror in the corner of the ceiling. They crouched down, to stay out of line of sight, and watched Harper move across the rounded mirror. Colette tensed next to him when his victim was revealed.
It was a member of Security.
He knelt on the floor, his face bloody. Mac saw the reason a second later, when Harper raised his arm. The bastard had a riding crop.
“I know that irritating Yank is still alive. I want to know where he has gone to ground, and what exactly he is doing.”
“I don’t know—” A sharp cry choked the man off when Harper snapped the crop against his cheek. Mac had to wrap both arms around Colette to keep her from attacking Harper.
“He’ll kill you both.” He whispered against her ear, waited for his words to sink in. She nodded, and he eased his grip. “I’m sorry.”
She nodded, and he saw the sheen of tears before she turned away from him.
Harper stood over the doubled man. “One more time. Where is Macaffrey?”
He shook his head, and Harper struck him again, and again, following him to the floor as he collapsed under the assault.
Colette leaned into him, pressed her faced against his shoulder, flinching every time the crop hit.
Mac made a decision, and kissed her forehead. “Stay here,” he whispered.
“What are you—no—”
He stood, moving out of reach. And with a deep breath, stepped around the corner.
“Looking for me, Harper?” The rat bastard whirled, blood dripping off the crop. “Here I am.”