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She was lying.
“I’m just glad you came along,” she repeated, her voice too cheery as she pressed a series of numbers on the keypad, then lifted the phone to her ear.
Not enough digits. Any local call in this part of the state would be a long distance one on his phone, requiring one and the area code. When she made no move to redial his suspicion was confirmed.
The sound of frosted grass crushing beneath a heavy footstep came from his left.
Adam started to reach for his weapon.
“Don’t move, man!” a male voice commanded.
Young, nervous.
Adam felt the unmistakable cold, hard barrel of a pistol press between his shoulder blades.
“You don’t want to do this,” Adam told him quietly. There was no way to disguise the element of danger in his tone. It was instinctive. The shakily exhaled breath behind him told him the guy had noticed it as well.
“What’re you doing?” the woman asked, her voice rising with hysteria as she flung the cell phone to the ground. “You didn’t say nothing about guns, Jimmy!” The child in her arms whimpered as if he sensed her anxiety.
“Shut up,” the guy, Jimmy, growled. “You said my name, you stupid bitch!”
“Put the gun away, Jimmy, and we’ll forget this ever happened,” Adam suggested. He didn’t have time for this crap. He thought highwaymen had gone out of style about a hundred years ago. The last thing he needed was a nervous one. If he could distract the guy, he might have the opportunity to go for his own weapon.
The scrape of a boot heel in the gravel on the side of the road sounded a few feet away.
Adam stilled, listening. Jimmy hadn’t moved. Neither had the woman. Someone else had joined their little party.
The distinct scent of cheap aftershave hit Adam’s nostrils.
Another man. Jimmy wasn’t wearing any deodorant, much less any aftershave. Adam could smell his sweat. Jimmy was scared…the other guy presented an unknown variable with his silence. Adam knew instinctively that the unknown enemy was a far more serious threat. His tension escalated to a new level.
“What’s he doing here?” the woman protested. Her child’s perpetual fretting underscored her mounting fear.
“Say good night, big guy.”
Not Jimmy’s voice. The other man’s.
Adam reached for his weapon. His fingers curled around the pistol grip at the same instant that he prepared to pivot toward the threat.
Something crashed into his skull before he could turn. White flashes speared through his brain. His knees buckled. Another blow. He jerked with the impact of it. Brilliant points of light stabbed behind his clenched lids. He had to…
But it was already too late.
Ghost Mountain, Colorado
Center
RICHARD O’RILEY scanned the latest report on the Judas mission. One target had been eliminated, but not the second. He looked up at the man seated on the other side of his cluttered desk. “Still no word on our man?”
Dupree, Center’s top analyst, shook his head. “Nothing. Either his TD has malfunctioned or he’s dead.”
O’Riley’s jaw clenched. Adam was the best Enforcer they had. And O’Riley wasn’t ready to give up on him yet. Electronic devices malfunctioned from time to time. It wasn’t impossible, just not probable. With the tracking devices neurologically implanted, they stopped functioning only when the host stopped breathing. Unless, of course, there was a malfunction, which had to be the case now. O’Riley refused to believe anything else at this point.
“He’s only been out of the loop for twenty-four hours,” O’Riley pointed out. “No matter how it looks, we’re going to keep an open mind. I know Adam. Whatever has gone down on this mission, I can assure you he’s been in tighter spots. He’ll figure a way out.”
At least Dupree had the good sense to keep his mouth shut instead of arguing. O’Riley was well aware of how he felt. Dupree had weighed the known data, ran simulations and assessed all the variables, but O’Riley didn’t give a damn. This was his operation. He would say when it was time to give up on Adam, and that wouldn’t be anytime soon. A team had already been dispatched to retrace Adam’s steps.
Dupree stood, clearly frustrated but lacking the necessary nerve to push the issue. “We’ll keep monitoring local law enforcement activities. We know Adam left Alexandria. Considering the time that his TD went down, I’d say he was about halfway to the primary target, maybe closer. If he’s been in an accident of some sort, we’ll hear about it soon enough. There can’t be that much going on along that sleepy stretch of country road. The recon team will be reporting in any time now. They hit ground zero about twenty minutes ago.”
When Dupree had left his office, O’Riley tossed the status report aside. Dupree was an uptight ass, but the best intel analyst on staff at Center. O’Riley released a heavy breath. This whole situation stunk. First, Daniel Archer is murdered; then, Donald Thurlo’s betrayal is discovered and Joseph Marsh is suddenly missing; now this. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something vital was missing from the scenario. Something he and all these highly trained, overpaid intel analysts were missing.
The Eugenics Project was far too valuable to risk for any reason. Anyone involved in this mess would be eliminated. Too tired to think as clearly as he should, O’Riley rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.
He stood and turned to stare out the window of his office. The scene beyond the specially designed outer shell that encased the entire building was slightly distorted, but welcome nonetheless. Sometimes he hated the copper-lined walls and soundproof glass of this place. Hated it, but it was, undeniably, necessary.
Though Center was located on a remote mountain in Colorado, it was still vulnerable. Ghost Mountain was owned by the U.S. government, operated by the Collective and heavily guarded with state-of-the-art security systems. No one outside this building knew the identities of those who worked inside. But even with those extreme measures in place, secrets could still escape.
They’d just learned that the hard way.
A technology war had long since replaced the Cold War. They weren’t fighting the KGB moles and double agents anymore. Now it was the code war and some computer geek sitting in a dark room listening to their every uttered word and computer keystroke. The weapons of today were every imaginable kind of electronic and laser device for stealing bytes of communication via the Net, fax or any one of numerous other analog or digital means of transmission. Nothing was sacred anymore.
Of course, all secrets weren’t necessarily stolen. Some violations of security were merely mistakes.
Fatal mistakes.
Archer had known better. The risk he’d taken by keeping a copy of his files, encrypted or not, at home was a very dumb move for such an intelligent man. In the end, he’d had to pay the ultimate price for that error in judgment.
If Adam failed, which was a highly unlikely scenario assuming he was still alive, they would send another man to finish the job.
Adam had never failed before. O’Riley wasn’t ready to admit that he had this time.
He turned back to his desk and looked at the open dossier lying there. Adam. Thirty years old. Six foot two, one hundred and eighty pounds. The cream of the crop. IQ: immeasurable. Physical condition: perfect. Skill level: unmatched. No one in the program was quite as good.
Well, O’Riley confessed, there was one who could hold his own with Adam. Cain. But there was one key element that marred Cain’s track record. He was every bit as skilled as Adam but lacked any capacity for compassion or any other essential emotion. That missing component limited his usefulness in many situations. Thankfully, Archer had observed that deficit and all who’d come after Cain, the original prototype, were better for it.
Archer. It was still hard for O’Riley to believe he was dead. They’d worked together for more than twenty years. How could something as simple as a thoughtless mistake lead to this? He shook his head, weary of trying to make sense of it all. It was done. There was no way to change it. O’Riley could only see that the traitors were eliminated. The identity of the primary Judas made the situation unbelievable.
He refused to analyze it any further. It had to be done, regardless of his reservations or his personal feelings. No one regretted the decision any more than he did. Joseph Marsh would be next, if they could find him. Fury twisted in O’Riley’s chest. He would like to kill that son of a bitch with his own hands. He had to be guilty…otherwise, he wouldn’t have vanished into thin air. Well, Marsh could run, but he couldn’t hide forever. They would find him and when they did, he would die.
For the moment, O’Riley would be happy if Adam just reported in and let him know what was going on.
There had to be a reasonable explanation for why his tracking device had failed. O’Riley was unwilling to accept that he was dead.
Not yet, anyway.
Chapter Two
Virginia
Archer Ranch
At the sound of a sputtering engine, Dani Archer paused in her trek from the barn to the house. She lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the early morning sun and smiled as she watched the rickety old blue truck bounce down the mountain road on the back of her property. Hunting season was still a couple of weeks away and already the boys were scouting out the best locations in which to set up their tree stands. She inhaled long and deep, relishing the underlying scent of the lush evergreens cloaking the eastern Virginia landscape.
Her smile faded as she considered that if her father hadn’t allowed those two to hunt on this land since they were barely big enough to handle rifles, she wouldn’t now. Especially after hearing those gunshots yesterday morning.
Hunting was totally barbaric. To her way of thinking, anything one wanted to eat should be purchased at the local market, not hunted down and shot. Tucking her fingers into the pockets of her jeans, she walked out to the edge of the dirt road and waited for the truck to reach her.
She supposed that, basically, it was the same thing. Someone had killed the animals that ended up as hamburger or pork chops, but buying the products at the market seemed so much more civilized than bringing a carcass home strapped across the hood of one’s vehicle.
The truck skidded to a stop in front of her and a smile lifted her lips once more. She could handle a few minutes of company this morning. And she needed to ask about those gunshots she’d heard. “Hello, boys.”
“Howdy, Miss Dani,” Calvin Peacock offered first. “You’re looking mighty pretty today.” That wicked grin he’d perfected to an art form slid across his face. At nineteen, he was more than a little full of himself.
Randall Williams, the driver, bopped Calvin on the head with his camouflaged cap. “Stop flirting, Cal. Miss Dani ain’t interested in nothing you’ve got.”
Cal glared at his friend who was a year younger. “Shut up, Rand. Don’t make me have to kick your butt,” he warned.
Rand huffed in disbelief. “Like you could.”
“Now, now, gentlemen,” Dani cut in as she propped her arms in the open passenger-side window and studied the two young men. “You know I love you both, but I can’t tolerate your incessant pissing contest.”
Rand blushed. Cal looked a bit sheepish himself. “You guys preparing for hunting season already?” she inquired, knowing the answer before she asked.
“’Course,” Cal said. “I mean, that’s the way we’ve always done it. Mr. Archer didn’t mind. That’s okay with you, isn’t it?”
“Sure. Just be careful.” She considered their camouflage attire. “Aren’t you supposed to wear something orange to make yourselves visible to other hunters?” No one else had permission to be hunting on the land. It was posted, but some people ignored the signs.
“No way,” Rand enthused. “We like to blend in. There ain’t supposed to be nobody else up there anyway.”
“That brings me to my next question,” she ventured, almost dreading the answer. “I thought I heard a couple of shots fired around this time yesterday morning. You guys don’t know anything about that, do you?” She looked from one to the other. “I mean, the season hasn’t even opened yet,” she added, hoping neither of them had been doing anything he shouldn’t have.
Rand’s gaze bumped into Cal’s and he looked away quickly…too quickly.
Dani frowned at the covert move. “What?” She directed the question at Cal since he was the oldest.
“He thinks—”
“Shut up, Cal,” Rand snapped.
Worry tightened Dani’s chest. “Look, fellas, my father has allowed the two of you to hunt on that mountain since you were kids. And I don’t mind that the tradition continues. But if you’re keeping anything from me, well…then I’ll mind.”
Rand dropped his chin to his chest and blew out a resigned breath, then turned to her, albeit reluctantly. “I don’t know for sure that it was what I thought,” he told her finally. “I didn’t see…exactly. Just a glimpse.”
“The knucklehead thinks he shot a man,” Cal explained with a snort of disbelief. “I tried to tell him it was nothing but a deer or a bear, but his head’s as thick as a block.”
Fear trickled down her spine. “Shut the truck off, Rand,” she ordered.
“Damnation,” he complained, but did as he was told.
“Start at the beginning.” Her tone left no room for protest from either of them.
“I thought it was a deer,” Rand began without looking at her. “I got excited and fired. I know I shouldn’t have.”
“That sounds just as stupid now as it did then,” Cal said. “I thought the world had come to an end the way you were squealing like a girl.”
Rand glared at him for two long beats before shifting his attention back to Dani. “Anyway, when whatever it was darted deeper into the woods…” He hesitated, clearly not looking forward to telling her the rest. “I could’ve sworn it was a man.”
“Get over it, Rand, it was not a man,” Cal ground out. “You’re getting Miss Dani upset for no reason.”
Dani moistened her lips and swallowed at the sensation tightening the back of her throat. “And this happened yesterday?”
“Yeah,” Rand admitted balefully.
“Did you see anything this morning?”
Cal shrugged. “We did find some blood, but, hell, there would’ve been blood whatever he hit, four-legged or two-legged.”
Dani resisted the urge to shudder. There was no point in overreacting. Cal was probably right. “But you didn’t find any tracks or…or a body?”
Rand shook his head. “No way. Nothing but the blood.”
“Nothing,” Cal confirmed. “And we looked around real good.”
“You’re not going to call the sheriff, are you?” Rand looked scared and suddenly far younger than his years.
The sheriff. Yeah, right. She wouldn’t call the sheriff if—
Don’t go there, Dani, she ordered silently, the mere thought of the man’s voice already making her sick to her stomach. She wouldn’t go down that road again. The sheriff was a total jerk. He wasn’t worth the brainpower it took to think of him.
“Well, we’ll just have to assume that it was a deer or a bear. Cal seems to think so. I guess that’s good enough for me.” She straightened, confident in her decision.
Rand looked weak with relief.
“I want you guys to take extra care up there from now on. Just to be on the safe side. Deer season brings out the worst in people who want nothing more than another trophy to hang on their wall.”
Both agreed and Dani waved goodbye as the truck lurched forward. She watched until they reached the main highway and turned toward town. The two were good guys, especially considering their ages. While most kids were out drinking and discovering just how much trouble they could get into, Rand and Cal preferred hunting and fishing. She’d been the same as a teenager, never one to go looking for trouble. She’d loved riding and spent what others considered their tumultuous years engrossed in horses and riding gear.
Mulling over their story, she headed in the direction of the house. Cal was older and more mature than Rand. If he wasn’t worried, then she shouldn’t be.
The screen door whined as she pulled it open and stepped into the bright, airy kitchen. Her stomach rumbled as she inhaled the scent of freshly baked blueberry muffins. She’d left them on the counter to cool this morning before going out to feed the horses.
Coffee and a warm, homemade muffin would be good about now. And maybe the food would soothe her frayed nerves. She shivered again at the notion that the blood might not have come from an animal. Surely if it had been a man, he’d have called out to the boys. Or, at the very least, have come down for help. She flinched when she recalled the echoing sound of the shots she’d heard.
Pushing those unsettling thoughts aside, she reached for the coffeepot. She had work to do. Work she’d already put off for too long.
The telephone rang.
Startled by the unexpected sound, Dani stared at the beige instrument as it rang two more times. Doc was out of town today, so she doubted it was him. She glanced at the clock—eight o’clock. Since the few friends she had were on Pacific time she felt certain it wasn’t any of them calling so early. A sales call, maybe? The fourth ring prompted her into action and she picked up the receiver.
