Oh, for Pete's sake. The kid couldn't be older than twenty. She forced herself to giggle again and then started down the stairs. Once she was out of his sight, she quickly tied her hair in a knot and tried to look official.
Sometimes life was made of tough decisions, and she'd just made one.
She'd chosen Greyson.
Right or wrong, it was done.
* * *
Greyson hid the bike the best he could near the Thoroughbred Casino and Hotel in Reno. After he’d surveyed the neighborhood, he sat in an empty office building and went through the folder the president had given to him. The hotel was the newest in the town, having been built less than five years ago—a front for some CIA offices four or five floors below the casino.
Just how many secret CIA offices were there in the States? How many had become Bunkers after Scorpius infected the world? The damn bacteria had arrived on a meteorite, which apparently, wasn't as crazy as it sounded.
He finished reading the file, which had an impressive diagram of the patrolling soldiers and viewing cameras. The president had done a decent job of watching. Now it was time to infiltrate. Grey would usually take several days to come up with a plan.
But Damon hadn't looked good. At all.
So Grey went with his gut. They wouldn't be expecting an infiltration in the middle of the day. The problem was the guards. The patrols worked in pairs. That would be an issue.
He made his way to ground level and stayed close to the buildings, moving silently toward where the diagrams showed the guards patrolled. Then he waited.
His mind calm, his body relaxed, he moved right back into his job of hunting, infiltrating, and taking. Boot steps announced the guards, and he edged to the side of a building that had once held a bank and several offices. The guards rounded the corner, and he let them go past before jumping on the closest guy and wrapping an arm around his neck.
With his free hand, Grey drew his weapon and pointed it at the other guard, who'd just whirled around. The guy he held to choke out shook, fighting hard. But Grey didn't relent.
He felt it the moment the guy lost consciousness, and Grey dropped him to the ground. “Cuff him,” he ordered the other guard.
The second guy was about forty with toned muscles and hard eyes. “No.”
Grey hardened his expression. “I will shoot you in the arm. It'll be a non-lethal hit, but it's gonna hurt. Cuff him. Now.” He let the truth of his words show in his gaze.
The soldier swallowed and yanked zip ties from his back pocket to secure his buddy.
“Good. Now push him into the bank,” Grey said, following along as the soldier obeyed his command. Money littered the floor inside, a series of one-hundred-dollar bills that crinkled beneath their feet. The guy complied.
Grey stole the unconscious guy's black hat and plunked it on his own head. He motioned toward the door. “Okay. Your time is about up. We're going in like all is good, and you won't die today.”
The soldier's mouth tightened, but he nodded. “You won't survive. They'll spot you.”
That's why he'd choked out the guy with longer dark hair. “Maybe.” He knew how to keep his head down. “Let's go.”
They walked around the corner, and he crossed his arms, keeping his gun hidden and pointed at the other guy. Then they moved into the darkened casino. The empty and silent slot machines were eerie, while the mellow yellow lights shone down and showcased the dirt.
Poker chips dotted the carpet in every direction.
Greyson kept his aim true and his head down. The guy didn't know he had no clue where they were going next, so he let him lead. They reached a stairwell behind a series of blackjack tables, and Grey followed the soldier in and down several flights. The soldier finally opened a door, and they moved into a white hallway.
Just like the other Bunker.
Grey shoved the soldier against the wall, face first, and pressed his gun beneath the guy's ear. “Where is Zack Barter?”
“Who?” The soldier grunted.
“Barter. Scientist. Blondish brown hair, blue eyes, looks like a movie star from the fifties,” Grey whispered in his ear.
The guy swallowed, sweat rolling down his face. “Oh. Psycho-Doctor. His name is Brad now. He's probably in one of the bigger labs two floors down.”
“Good.” Grey hit the soldier on the back of the head, and he went down. Grey dragged him to what looked like a closet, opened it, and shoved him behind huge stacks of paper supplies. Then he searched him for zip ties, found some, and made sure the soldier wouldn't be able to move.
Two stories down. All right. Keeping his hat on and his head lowered, Grey hurried back into the stairwell and jogged down, taking a deep breath before entering the sublevel.
The soft humming of equipment broke the quiet. Grey emerged into another long, white hallway, which he followed for several yards until two doorways opened up on opposite sides of the hall. He peeked into one to see a fully functioning lab with several absolutely humungous aquariums on the other side with jellyfish. Lab techs hustled around, all working quietly, all ignoring him. He didn't see Barter.
He moved to the other lab to see about five people working at different stations, some peering into microscopes, and some making notes.
Again, no Barter.
Frustration welled up, but he quashed it, sliding his gun into his holster. A pretty woman of about thirty walked by him with test tubes in her hand. He touched her arm, and she jumped. “I need to see, ah, Brad. Do you know where he is?” Grey kept his voice light and forced a smile.
She blushed and smiled back. “Um, yeah. He's back in his office.” She nodded toward another large aquarium. This one held squid and had a door next to it.
“Thanks.” Grey kept his voice low and then moved past her as if he had every right to be there. The lab techs largely ignored him. Maybe soldiers often headed down into the lab. He kept going and crossed the threshold, stopping cold.
Zach Barter sat at a wide desk, reams of papers, notes, and pictures in front of him. He looked up. “Yes?”
Everything inside Grey went stone-cold. The noise in his head quieted. Slowly, deliberately, he closed the door.
Zach's blue eyes widened and then narrowed. “What the hell are you doing?”
Grey pulled out his gun. “Keeping a promise.” Intent filled him, and he aimed carefully. “For Ferris.”
Barter's arms swung out wide. “Wait a minute. You can't kill me.”
Grey lowered his chin. “Why not?”
“Because I'm the only one who can cure Scorpius,” Barter said, his gaze frantic. “I'm it. It's in my head and in my notes here that only I can decipher.”
The need to pull the trigger, to keep his vow, was a physical burn. Grey bit down on his tongue. Hard. “You can't cure Scorpius.”
“I'm closer than anybody else,” Barter argued, his eyes filling with tears. “I'm the only hope for those who haven’t been infected. And for those who survived and want to continue the human race. It's me. Only me.”
Damn it. What if he was telling the truth? About continuing the human race? Could he actually save the baby? “You've been studying pregnancies?”
Barter gulped, snot dripping down his nose. “Of course. The focus of this facility is Scorpius research. How could that not be an important part of it?”
Greyson slowly lowered his arm, frustration biting through him with jagged teeth. God. How could this happen? He finally had the bastard in his sights. The crazy, pandemic-spreading, parasite rapist who needed to die. “Looks like you're coming with me.” If there was a chance to save Grey’s baby, for Moe, for him…he had to make that choice.
Ferris would have understood.
Chapter Thirty-Five
It seemed like a good idea at the time. Why is that always the prelude to something disastrous?
—Maureen Shadow, Notes
Her late dinner sitting like a rock in her stomach, Maureen read through more data on Scorpius experiments while work
ing at a desk in the largest lab downstairs. “So you've combined mostly anti-bacterial agents with different strengths of the various vitamin Bs,” she mused.
Lynne looked up from a computer, her eyes taking a moment to focus. “Yes.”
“Have you tried any natural remedies?” Moe asked, leaning forward. “Has anybody?”
“Hell, we tried everything we could think of right off the bat, but it all went so wrong so quickly. I can't speak to what the other labs did, or are doing if there are any facilities left.” Lynne ground her palm into her right eye. “Why? What are you thinking?”
Maureen chewed on her lip. “Well. Aloe from the aloe vera plant fights bacteria, as does turmeric, which is an herb that might even fight cancer.” She flattened her hand on the charts in front of her. “And there's honey. It can help prevent the spread of bacteria. Or lemons or garlic.” Substances they might still be able to find on Earth.
Lynne straightened. “We could get those things. When we send the scouts out next week to find co-ops and farms, we could look for those specifically.”
“How do the vitamin B injections work, anyway?” Moe asked. “That's outside my purview.”
“We don't know how or why, but the concoction of the multiple Bs slows down the bacteria and somehow protects the brain from suffering too much damage. Usually. Not always.” Lynne shook her head. “It was a total accident when we discovered it. As usually happens.”
“We're going to run out of the injections soon,” Moe said. “Right?”
Lynne slowly nodded. “That’s true. We've cut back to treatments every other month, and there hasn't been an increase in people going crazy. I'm starting to think B is only needed right after infection and maybe only for the first three months. After that, the brain can protect itself.”
Moe frowned. “We hope.”
Lynne winced. “Right. We don't know.” She lifted a green file folder and tossed it over onto Moe's table. “Research on making B permanent in the body without injections. It's interesting, and I thought we were on to something, but turns out I haven’t been able to find a lot of promise in it.”
Jax appeared in the doorway, and Moe jumped. The Vanguard leader looked deadly in his faded jeans and worn T-shirt with his gun at this thigh and a knife at his waist. But at least he didn't look as pissed as he had around noontime when he discovered that his garage door wouldn't open.
He lifted an eyebrow. “That was quite the job you did on the garage door today. My techs are still repairing the wires.”
Moe swallowed, her back snapping to attention. “I couldn't let you go rob the Mercs.”
His chin lowered. “We're leaving the second the door is fixed, and the guards have orders to keep you out of there. No matter what.” He looked at Lynne. “Did you eat dinner?”
The scientist shook her head. “No, I missed it.”
“Meet me in fifteen minutes in the cafeteria.” He gave Moe another hard look. “I'm checking on my garage door first.” Silent as death, he turned on his heel and disappeared down the hallway.
Lynne snorted. “I can't believe you stripped the wires and gears for the garage door.”
Moe winced. “I honestly didn't think it'd take them so long to fix it.” But that was okay. She'd tried to argue with Jax and Raze all day, but they hadn't budged on their plan. But if darkness fell, they'd have to wait until tomorrow because they didn't want to mess with the fire at night. So that gave Greyson more time.
She had to believe in him.
“It's funny that the door is too heavy to lift. I hadn't realized it was fortified to that degree,” Lynne mused.
Moe nodded. “We need the generators to lift it. So when we run out of fuel…no more garage.” No more Bunker, actually.
Lynne chuckled. “Even so, nicely done. I like how you went around them when they wouldn't listen.”
“Yeah, but now Jax hates me,” Moe murmured, shuddering. The guy wasn't a good enemy to have.
Lynne scoffed and stood, stretching her neck. “Nah, he doesn't hate you. In fact, while he wasn't amused by any means, I think he respects you even more now. Where'd you learn to be so destructive?”
“My minor was electrical engineering,” Moe said, turning back to the files, her heart warming. Lynne was trying to make her feel better, and that was just nice. Plus, maybe Jax didn't hate her. “Have a lovely dinner. I'm sure I'll see you shortly.” The woman didn't seem to ever stop working.
Lynne patted Moe’s shoulder on her way out of the lab.
Moe returned to reading, looking up at a rustle by the door. “Vinnie,” she said, leaning back and smiling. “How are you?”
Her brother's love walked gracefully into the room, a happy hop in her step. “Fantastic.” She looked to her side and frowned. “I'm not talking to you. Go away.”
Moe swallowed. “Still seeing dead people, huh?”
Vinnie rolled her pretty eyes and sat down, pushing her blond hair over her shoulders. “Just my crazy stepmother, Lucinda. She haunts me on a regular basis.”
Moe nodded. Vinnie had survived Scorpius, and then a dangerous drug regimen forced on her by the president when he held her captive for quite a while. She’d had hallucinations since, but she was also the resident shrink. It was an odd reality, to be sure. “Um, okay.” Wait a minute. “Did Raze send you to talk to me?”
Vinnie nodded. “Yep.”
“I'm fine,” Moe said shortly. “I'm glad I did what I did.” In fact, she had to think of another way to stop the Vanguard soldiers before they had a chance to leave.
“Yeah, I get it. I'd destroy anything to keep Raze safe,” Vinnie said easily.
Moe paused. “Of course. You guys are engaged and everything.” The hair stood up on Moe’s arms, and she shifted in her chair, her body stiff all of a sudden.
Vinnie snorted. “You're knocked up and creating havoc for your man. Give me a break. You love the guy.”
Energy zipped through Moe. “Aren't you supposed to ask me questions until I reach my own conclusions about my life? My motivations?” She crossed her arms and studied the woman Raze loved more than his own life. “What kind of a shrink are you?”
Vinnie grinned. “I'm not a shrink. Never was. I was a behavioral scientist, but I'm the best we've got for this kind of stuff.”
Stuff. Her shrink just used the word ‘stuff.’ Moe groaned and return the smile. “You are so perfect for him.” For her rigid, tough, protective, stubborn brother. There was no doubt Vinnie kept him on his toes.
“I truly am,” Vinnie said, her eyes sparkling.
An alarm suddenly blared through the facility. Vinnie jumped up, her eyes wide. “Something's wrong.”
Moe pushed from the table and hurried behind the blonde, down the hallway and up the stairs to the main control area.
Jax and Raze ran down, guns in their hands, a look of calm on their faces.
“What's happening?” Moe asked.
Jax cut her a look, still jogging toward the stairwell. “Your boyfriend is back.”
* * *
Grey smashed Zach Barter against the locked door of the office complex, making sure the cameras caught him. He peered inside the darkened reception area for the building. Three silent and pretty much dead elevators with closed sliders were visible beyond where the security guards used to be way back when.
A door opened to the side of the elevator bank, and Jax Mercury bounded out, his gun already pointed at Grey's head.
Grey smiled and stepped back, yanking Barter by his collar.
“Let me go, man,” Barter begged, ineffectually trying to pull away.
“Don't make me gag you again,” Grey snapped. He'd had to steal a car and had finally just shoved the sniveling moron into the trunk for the last six hours. “There's probably a trunk here somewhere.”
Barter stilled. “I don't know when or how, but I am going to kill you.”
“Get in line, asshole,” Grey said. Having the guy breathing while Ferris was long gone was a physica
l slice across his chest. He felt it.
The door opened.
Grey shoved Barter in before him and walked in after, his gun safely in his thigh holster.
Jax, Raze, and Sami held defensive positions, each with a gun pointed at his head.
Grey sighed. “Meet Zach Barter.”
The air shifted. Tension rolled. Jax instantly switched his aim to Barter's head.
“Wait,” Greyson snapped. “If I didn't get to kill him, neither do you.”
Jax's lips peeled back. “He infected Lynne. Tried to kill her.”
“Yeah. He infected a lot of people,” Grey said. “But he's been working in another Bunker, one in Reno, one with a huge-ass lab. A couple of them. If anybody can cure Scorpius, it's him. For now.” He looked at Raze. “If anybody can save your sister's baby, my baby, it might be this jackass.”
Raze slowly lowered his gun.
Maureen and Lynne moved out of the stairwell, both with wide eyes on Barter.
Lynne went pale and stopped right behind Jax.
“Dr. Harmony,” Barter said, his voice lifting with what almost sounded like glee. “You're alive. I was so hoping you'd survive.” He tried to press forward. “Is your heart still blue?”
Greyson jerked him back before Jax could club him with a gun. “You should stop talking now.”
Lynne swallowed. “We have the location of another Bunker?”
“Yes,” Barter said, his body straightening. “It's in Reno, and we've done excellent research. All of the data compiled about Scorpius from all over the world is centralized there. Well, the data we had before the Internet went down. I can take you. We can work together again.”
Jax growled. A low, odd, animalistic sound.
Grey tensed. He hadn’t gone through all of this shit just for Jax to gut the guy.
Maureen tried to step toward him, and her brother pivoted, stopping her. She focused entirely on Grey. “You didn't kill him. For Ferris.” Her voice was breathy. Surprised. Hopeful.
Grey shook his head. “Not if he has knowledge that can save the baby. Our baby.”