She headed back to her lab, searched for something she could use as a weapon. She found a knife, with a long blade and slid it down her boot where it wouldn’t be seen.
Then she headed off the ship. A boat was leaving the dock as she approached and she got a lift, staring straight ahead as the small vessel crossed the water. There were guards on the door, but they let her through without a word. They knew her well. Another guard stood at the doorway to the underground passages, he nodded and held the door open for her.
Once through she paused a moment, slowing her breathing.
Then she headed to Destiny’s cell.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“The heart breaks when it has swelled too much in the warm breath of hope, then finds itself enclosed in cold reality.”
—Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo
Destiny sat on the small cot bed, her arms wrapped around her knees, chin resting on her hands. She’d just finished reading The Count of Monte Cristo again, searching for comfort in the familiar words, and was contemplating how long it would take her to tunnel her way out of her cell. Too long, at a guess. Could she pretend to be dead and they would take out her body and…?
Probably with her luck she’d end up buried alive. Or cremated.
She just wished she knew what was happening. And whether Milo was okay. He hadn’t looked okay.
She was filled with a sense of longing, just to see him. Okay, to touch him as well. Would she ever see him again? They still had to disarm the nuclear warheads. Maybe right now he was close by.
That was unless Rico had persuaded him to blow up the whole planet. But she didn’t think Milo would do that. He wasn’t a bad…person. She wouldn’t fall in love with a bad person. She had far too much taste. There, she’d admitted it to herself. She loved him. She loved Milo.
And it hurt. So bad.
The lock clicked, and she jumped to her feet.
At last something was happening. The door opened and Dr. Yang stood there. She stared at Destiny for what seemed like a long time, and Destiny could feel a frown forming between her eyes. “What is it?”
Dr. Yang ignored the question as she stepped into the cell. She turned abruptly. “You can go,” she snapped at the guard who had followed her inside. Her voice sounded strange. Different, sort of jagged as though she’d swallowed something sharp.
“I’m not supposed to leave the prisoner alone with anyone, ma’am.”
They were calling her a prisoner now—Destiny couldn’t even give herself the illusion that this was for her own safety anymore.
“I hardly think that refers to me,” Dr. Yang said. “I’m her doctor. I’m here to do an examination.” She shrugged. “Check with your boss but give us some privacy while you do it.”
He looked a little uncertain. Dr. Yang glared, and he gave a nod. “I’ll be just outside the door. Call if you need me.”
Did they think she was going to attack Dr. Yang? Though, she had threatened them with a grenade. Maybe they thought she was dangerous. She quite liked the idea.
Something was definitely wrong. Dr. Yang had never been a relaxed person, but right now, she looked as though she might shatter at any moment. Every muscle locked tight. Her face completely devoid of expression.
Destiny took a step forward and reached out, then let her hand drop to her side. Dr. Yang would not appreciate the gesture. “What’s happened?” she asked.
Clearly something had.
Her jaw clenched and her eyes narrowed, and Destiny realized that she’d been wrong. There was a whole load of emotion there. Dr. Yang was angry. It burned in her eyes.
She swallowed, suddenly nervous, though she didn’t know why.
Dr. Yang bent down and pulled something from her boot. The silver of a blade glinted in her hand.
“I have to do this,” Dr. Yang said. “You understand that, don’t you?”
No, she didn’t understand anything. Her gaze fixed on the knife. Unblinking. “Why?”
“He killed them. He killed my babies.”
Oh God, she’d found out that her daughters were dead. But that didn’t explain why she was here, brandishing a knife at Destiny. She hadn’t killed Dr. Yang’s babies. And she couldn’t see how Dr. Yang could blame her. She hadn’t even been born when they had died.
“He has to suffer. I have to take what he needs most.”
She wasn’t making a lot of sense. Suddenly, the other woman lunged forward, her