Adam (8 page)

All clear for what? Ah yes, the supposed threat. In a sense, she should count herself lucky he’d been with her tonight. While the muggers in the parking garage weren’t terrorists, they could have full well done her a lot of harm had she arrived alone. Single women didn’t fare well against gangs. She might have lost more than just a purse tonight if not for his intervention.

It took only moments before he gave the signal. “Your place looks clean. You can come in now.”

Clean? He’d obviously not peeked under her furniture where dust bunny families thrived. With not a small amount of sarcasm, she said, “Thanks for inviting me into my own home.”

An unrepentant grin graced his lips. “Sassy. I like it.”

And with his flirtatious words, her irritation disappeared—in regards to him at least. Adam didn’t give the orders that forced him on protective detail, just like he couldn’t help his beliefs that criminals deserved just punishment.

In a sense she believed the same thing. Crime should have penalties, but what about those forced to go against the laws? What about those whose only fault was their very existence, an existence not wanted by society?

In case it took pointing out, she wasn’t talking about children of ghettos or broken homes. When she thought of those unwanted and persecuted simply for existing, she meant the cyborgs.

Laura never forgot that day years ago in the lab when soldiers shot the unarmed man.

But his wasn’t the only death that haunted her. She couldn’t un-see the video footage of the culling of cyborg ranks, a pirated video that went viral on the Internet showing the military slaughter of dozens of frozen soldiers whose only crime was the chip in their brain, a chip the military had installed.

“Hunh?” It seemed while she woolgathered, Adam asked a question.

“I said, is there any other access to your condo other than this door?”

“The balcony, but given we’re about eight stories above ground, I doubt we can expect company via there.”

“You never know. Grappling hooks and rappelling gear are easy to order.”

“You really should work on your reassurance speeches,” she muttered as she peeled off her coat and boots.

“I deal in reality, Doc, and that means facing the truth whether we like it or not.”

“Well, at this moment, I’d rather worry less about facing the truth and more about getting into something comfortable.”

Too late she realized how that sounded.

“I like the sound of that.” As he eyed her head to toe, his gaze lingering in between, her cheeks heated. It wasn’t the only part of her warming up.

“Um, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be back in a bit, and we can order in some food.”

He headed her off before she made it to her bedroom. “I need to check in here first.”

As he prowled her space with its unmade bed, clothes scattered on the floor, and general disorder, she felt a need to explain. “I’ve been kind of busy lately and have let the place get kind of messy.”

Turning to face her, Adam grinned and his blue eyes shone. “I’ll admit this is fascinating. The fastidious doctor in the lab is a slob.”

“I’m not a slob,” she protested even as she grabbed at a pair of glasses lying on top of her dresser, which boasted empty panty hose packages, two antiperspirants, and, damn it, was that mold growing in that coffee cup?

He arched a brow.

Her nose wrinkled. “Okay, maybe I’m a little messy.”

His smile widened.

“Okay a lot. But don’t tell me you’re Mr. Clean. Or are you? If you’re going to hang around here for a few hours, feel free to tidy up.” Hopefully wearing fewer layers. Starting with him stripping off that long-sleeve shirt and—

Mashing her glasses on her nose brought her world back into sharp focus. It also enabled her to clearly see the man before her. “Is that blood on your sleeve?” Noting the dark patch on his arm, she reached out to touch it, only to have him angle away.

“Just that tiny scratch I mentioned. Nothing to worry about. I don’t feel a thing.”

She frowned. “You really should clean that.”

“I will as soon as I check the rest of your place.” Pivoting on his heel, he popped into her bathroom for a moment, checked her closet—a brave task given things sometimes had a tendency of falling out in an avalanche—then, with a grin, Adam left her room, shutting the door behind him.

Alone. And yet not.

As Laura stripped out of her clothes, she couldn’t help awareness that he was on the other side of the flimsy portal. He could technically barge back in at any time. Catch her while she dressed. Perhaps do more than that.

He could sweep her into his arms. Fall back with her on the bed. Kiss her and—

Sigh.

For a scientist, she had an overly active imagination. One she needed to rein in. The life she led didn’t have room for a romantic, or even sexual, dalliance with a soldier. Too much was at stake.

And she wasn’t just talking about her job and career.

As she booted up her laptop and used the many levels of encryption to access the secure forum where she chatted with members of the cyborg resistance, she reminded herself of why she had this job and why she’d taken the risk today of trying to smuggle some of the live nanos out.

I think there’s no doubt now that somewhere in that building there is a living cyborg. A cyborg in need of rescue.
As the mole, hidden and tunneling her way deeper and deeper, it was her job to inform the resistance of her findings. What she shouldn’t be doing was anything that might get her fired such as getting a handsome soldier out of his pants and into hers.

My role as informant is more important than finding out if Adam prefers boxers or briefs.

A scratch indeed. Adam poked at the hole that went through his uniform shirt. At least the dark material and Laura’s blurry eyesight meant she didn’t grasp what had truly happened.

The bullet didn’t miss. It entered his arm, and never exited. It never would. The missile, broken down by the nano bots and absorbed by his body, wouldn’t leave behind any evidence. As a matter of fact, his arm bore only a slight pink pucker to show he’d gotten injured at all.

However, he couldn’t hide the hole in his long sleeve. Given her observant nature, she’d possibly notice, so he shucked the damning evidence and balled it up. His white undershirt would do for the moment.

Disposing of it though meant he needed to perform more cover-up. In her guest bath, he located a first aid kit under the sink and slapped a large Band-Aid on for appearance’s sake.

As he did all this, his BCI sent wireless pings out, checking on the surroundings as best he could. Without his usual cameras, he felt blind. Anyone could sneak up on him here, or listen in. It meant the message he texted to Rosalind had to rely on careful wording to convey the change in his schedule.

Gonna have to reschedule that beer for later. Working late. Can you pop by the house and make sure my guests are comfortable and give them my apologies? I seem to have lost A’s number.

Benign enough, but Rosalind would read the subtext which was,

Forget planning anything tonight. My fucking boss is making me work overtime. Make sure Anastasia and the others don’t get into any trouble. Even better, don’t let them do anything. I don’t dare contact her myself in case her phone isn’t secure.

What irked even more than not being to further their plan to infiltrate the factory was the fact he’d miss his weekly communication with his inside informant.

Calling themselves Talpa, which was Latin for mole, they’d begun receiving messages from the mystery insider about twenty-nine months ago. The first few messages were publicly left on a forum known to show sympathy for the cyborg cause. Initially they’d just watched the posted messages and not replied. Most people on the Freedom for Cyborgs forums were talkers, not acters. It was easy to spout support and make claims within the anonymity provided by the Internet.

Rosalind easily managed to weed out the basement dwellers and wannabe’s from the real resistance fighters.

And Talpa was real.

The information they posted proved spot on and had so far led to at least a half-dozen cyborg rescues. Almost better numbers than Adam and his gang had managed on their own.

But now Talpa had embarked on an even more dangerous mission. Like Adam, their mysterious informant was working somewhere within CyberGlys. Who they were and in what capacity they didn’t know. They did try to find out, though.

Rosalind searched. She followed the IP addresses through proxies and firewalls, everywhere they led, only to come up empty-handed. Whoever they dealt with knew how to hide.

Kind of like his doctor who’d yet to come out of her room.

What did she do in there?

She’d claimed a need to change into something more comfortable. A more forward male might have said don’t bother putting anything on at all. Then again, the element of discovery that came from peeling layers of clothes from a curvy body—

What the fuck? As he stood there like a raw recruit fantasizing, his mind finally smacked him awake and informed him that the doc was typing. To whom. About what.

Is she calling her boyfriend?
He had no right to feel jealousy, and yet, it flared to life. He told it to stand down. Perhaps she simply replied to some emails. Or was talking via video chat to family or friends.

He tapped into her home network, only to get bounced back.

Strange. Most personal networks were barely encrypted, but then again, she did work for the government.

He probed at the wireless signal, but it buzzed discordantly, unwilling to let him in. Well, there was more than one way to eavesdrop on a binary conversation.

While he doubted he’d find a network connection in her bathroom, exiting it, he searched for her television, which wasn’t readily apparent. Opening a large armoire tucked between a pair of windows, which gave a stunning view of the city, he noted a decent sound system, but no TV. As he rotated around, he discovered, to his shock, she didn’t have a television at all.

Thus when she did finally exit her bedroom, was it any surprise he blurted, “How can you not have a television in your living room?”

“Because I don’t need one.”

“Don’t need one?” He practically sputtered the words, his disbelief overwhelming. “But what do you do to entertain yourself? How do you play video games? Watch movies?” While it should be noted, he could technically do all these things wirelessly, there was a tactile enjoyment in flopping in a comfortable chair or couch and munching on dietary useless carbs while visually enjoying the antics of good cinema or challenging his dexterous skills as he manipulated a video game controller.

“I work most of the time, and when I’m not working, or researching, I’m sleeping.”

“Surely you do something for relaxation? Your entire life can’t revolve around the lab?”

“I like my work, but if you must know, I do also like to read.” At his raised brow, she blushed, the pink in her cheeks enticing. “Non-fiction books usually about my work.”

“But what about having fun?” As she shifted her stance, adopting a defensive posture, he realized how his accusation might sound.
I just accused her of being boring.

“Who says I’m not enjoying myself?”

“Me. Don’t forget, I’ve been watching you for some time now, and with the exception of tonight, when the director left you that mysterious cooler, your heart rate has never spiked, your eyes haven’t shone with excitement, and I’ve certainly never heard you laugh.”

“How would you know if my heart beats faster? For all you know, I’m in a constant adrenaline rush when I’m working. I’m a scientist. I get a kick out of discovery.”

A snort escaped him. “What a load of crap.”

Spine straight, she fixed him with a glare. “Would you mind not insulting me in my own home? What business is it of yours anyhow how I entertain myself?”

“It’s none of my business. But I’d hate to think you’re missing out.”

“Missing out? On what? Fictional creations about absurd situations?”

“Forget television for a moment. What about the simple rush you get out of doing something for pleasure? Like hiking up a scenic mountain. Scuba diving and observing the beauty of nature on a coral reef.” Things that even he, with his analytical mind, could appreciate. “What about the enjoyment that comes out of sharing an adventure with a friend, or a
lover
…” Why was it, when it came to Doctor Laura, his mind always revolved back to more intimate matters? She drew him like no other.

Her expression turned sad for a moment before tightening. “My work is important. Time enough later for me to indulge in frivolous activities.”

“Or you could squeeze time in for them now.”

“Says the guy assigned to watch over me. Don’t tell me you think us going out to paint the town red is a good idea, given the threat supposedly to CyberGlys employees.”

“You don’t have to go out to have fun.”

“So what do you propose we do? Play a board game? Cards?”

“I’ve got something better than that.” Before she could question him some more, he showed her what he meant.

Reeling her into his arms didn’t take any thought, or weighing of the pros and cons of his actions. He’d wanted to kiss her all evening. Weeks even. Pretty much from the first moment he’d begun observing her he’d wanted to see if her lush lips would prove pliant under his.

They were. Soft and welcoming.

For so long, he’d wanted to draw her against him and see how she molded to his frame.

She fit perfectly, her lush curves a perfect complement to his hard body.

He’d wanted to see if, beneath her prim and serious exterior, there lurked passion.

By all the nanos in his body, she practically melted him with the heat she unleashed with just one long, and sensual, kiss.

With his senses tingling, their lips separated, and they stared at each other, her bright brown eyes behind her glasses meeting his gaze with wonder. A wonder he understood. Her breath, already coming faster, brushed warmly against him.

The moment stretched, fraught with anticipation and desire. The cognitive part of his brain suggested he step away. Getting involved with the doctor, however pleasurable, wasn’t part of his mission. It could prove a danger, especially given her scientific background. What if she recognized what he was? She could jeopardize more than his life. It was an unacceptable risk.

And yet…

The man within said fuck it.

He crushed her to him, his arms wrapping around her tight, his mouth claiming hers with intensity and determination.
She will know excitement.

Already her heart raced. It pounded, the blood in her coursing frantically as it brought all of her nerves alive. At the same time, her body went limp in his arms, a languorous arousal weakening her muscles. But she needn’t fear falling.

I have her, and I’m not letting go. I will show her pleasure. With me. And only me.

He could no more help the possessive feelings than he could resist her allure.

Her desire for him rose in a musky perfume, the layers of clothes separating them, unable to hide the evidence, not with his enhanced senses.

It served only to heighten his arousal. Hard. Harder than the steel they’d strengthened his bones with. Harder than the locks on the firewalls guarding his electronic secrets. So hard…it hurt?

Pain wasn’t something he needed to feel unless he chose to, yet with her, he let the agony of wanting her and holding back fill him. The wild urgency was intoxicating. Not ruled by programming or rational thought, he just felt. Felt on a level he’d not imagined.

It made him forget where he was, who he was, and the danger his very existence posed. But lucky for them both, he was capable of faster-than-human reaction because, when the window shattered, he knew enough to spin his body and present his back in the split second before the deadly shards blasted them.

But more ominous than the deadly rain of glass was the thump and ticking of the metallic ball with its flashing red warning.

A bomb. Ah, hell.

No time to explain. No time for anything except escape. Bundling her over a shoulder and ignoring her scared query of “What’s happening?” he charged at the door, exiting her condo even as the ominous ticking got faster and faster.

If it weren’t for his speed, he doubted either of them would have made it out alive from the condo. As it was, he’d barely lunged into the hall and to his left when the explosion rocked the building. The floor underfoot shook. Smoke billowed from the portal he’d just escaped, and the ominous crackle of flames let him know there was nothing for them behind.

Nothing but destruction.

Someone wants me dead. Me, or is it the doctor they’re targeting?
Either way, they needed out of here. Fast.

A quick glance at the elevator showed it two floors away and rising. Would it stop here and disgorge a team to check on results and finish them off?

He didn’t stay to find out. While he could handle a lot of damage, the fragile female over his shoulder, body wracked with coughs from the smoke, wouldn’t fare well against bullets.

Tearing down the hall, he ignored the various heads poking from doorways, all asking the same thing.

“What’s going on? Is there a fire?”

He snarled, “Get back inside,” a futile attempt to save them from a possible culling by a follow-up death squad. However, human curiosity meant they milled out in the hall, voices high-pitched with excitement as they debated the best course of action. He hit the stairwell just as the fire alarms finally began to peal, and yet their strident sound couldn’t hide the screams and the ominously shouted words of, “Oh my god, they have guns,” for him to realize he needed to move faster.

“Hold on tight and don’t say a word,” was the only warning she got before he clamped one arm even tighter over her suspended thighs as he vaulted over the railing, letting himself drop several stories before reaching out to grasp the bar of the landing leading to the fourth floor.

Why not go all the way to ground level? Because a properly organized operation would have men stationed on the door exiting the stairwell, waiting to pick off anybody who emerged.

Cyborgs, being more durable and eminently smarter, would have waited in the stairwell and aimed upward, shooting anything that moved. Casualties, especially of the innocent, were an unfortunate side effect of this method.

As he burst onto the fourth level, a firm and quick kick snapping the lock meant to prevent people from entering the building, not exiting, he took a moment to analyze his surroundings. Despite the lack of smoke on this floor, the alarms here blazed as well, which meant there were people thronging the hall, all asking the same useless questions.