Chapter Fifteen

Red Zone Warriors surveillance vehicle

Four blocks from CommTECH Research Facility

Houston, Northern Territory

“I can’t believe he did that,” Hunter said, sounding as stunned as Striker felt. “And on camera, too. With the whole world watching. He may as well have painted a target on his back. On all our backs.”

He wasn’t wrong. Mace had moved faster than humanly possible, falling to his stomach on the ledge, grabbing Keiko by the ankle and swinging her up to catch her. There were going to be a whole lot of questions about how he’d managed to save her.

“Was he supposed to just let her fall?” Friday asked, frowning at the screens, where Mace saving Keiko was being replayed.

“No.” Hunter blushed at the reprimand. “But a normal person couldn’t do that.”

No. They couldn’t. To react with that sort of speed, you needed the genetic advantage of an animal that shared your DNA. One that excelled at moving fast and keeping its balance while doing it.

“The news has slowed the footage down.” Hunter pointed to the screen. “They’re saying it was adrenaline.” He looked up at Striker. “That could work, right? I mean, normal people can move cars and stuff when they’re wired out on adrenaline. Can we push that as an explanation?”

“Spread the rumor that he’s had training, maybe gymnastics or something like that, and, fueled by adrenaline, his training kicked in and made the rescue possible.”

“I’m on it.” His fingers flew over the keyboard.

Friday’s wide, mismatched eyes looked up at him. “Will anyone believe it?”

“I don’ know, bébé. People look for ways to explain this kind of thing. This is as good an explanation as any.”

Striker hoped to hell the media and everyone watching would buy the adrenaline theory. If CommTECH found out Mace was part of the Red Zone Warriors and remembered the footage of him on the ledge, all they had to do was put two and two together to come to some worrying conclusions—like there being something worth knowing about the entirety of his team. It was bad enough that CommTECH was out to hunt him down. This could send them after all of his team.

“He should have fallen off the ledge,” Friday mused as she stared at the slow-motion footage. “He’s so wide, I don’t understand how he didn’t fall off the ledge when he caught her. It was like one of those acrobat acts where they throw each other around. Maybe it was possible because of the difference in their sizes. When he gets back to base, I need to run some tests on his skills. I think they’re changing again.” She looked up at him. “You need to tell me what his animal is so I can figure out what’s going on.”

“That’s between you and Mace. I don’ have the right to tell you what his animal is.”

She huffed. “He’s so stubborn, and he loves to annoy me. He’ll never tell me.”

“You could probably guess,” Hunter pointed out.

Striker wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist and kissed her head. “I’ll talk to him. Tell him he needs to stop messing around and come clean.”

“You brought me on board to study your DNA. To give you answers. I can’t do that if he won’t cooperate.”

“That wasn’t the only reason I brought you on board, bébé.” He gave her a wicked smile that made her cheeks turn pink. “But once this is over, I’ll talk to him. Okay?”

She nodded as Sandi snapped her old-fashioned phone shut and turned to them.

“Things just got a whole lot worse,” she said. “I got word from Zane that the Mercer twins are on their way to Houston. They’re coming to deal with the situation personally.”

The air in the van thickened, and it became harder to breathe.

“How long ’til they get here?” Striker asked.

“Couple of hours at most.”

“If they realize Mace is part of your team, they’ll try to capture him so they can flush you out.” The color drained from Friday’s face. “They’ll take DNA samples. It’s standard procedure. If CommTECH gets hold of him, all of your secrets will be revealed. We need to do something to help him get out of there, right now.”

“We could start with getting that camera off our guy,” Gray said from the front of the van, where he’d tried to put distance between himself and the rest of them. Gray had become far too good at isolating himself, which was why Striker had brought him along on this op—he wanted to keep an eye on him.

“Sandi, Gray,” Striker said. “Deal with the helicopter. Let’s get the light off Mace.”

With a nod, they were out the door and running for their hoverbikes. The door slammed behind them, echoing through the interior of the van.

“Hunter, where’s the rest of the team?”

“Still at least an hour away.”

Striker contacted one of the team members who’d already arrived, speaking to him through his comm. “Ignacio. The Mercers are on the way. Cover the front of the building and keep an eye out for them. Let me know as soon as they arrive.”

“On it,” came the reply.