anything he’d said, and set the bag aside. “I heard you had a bit of excitement recently.”
Shit. “Just a job,” she demurred. “It took us out of town for a few days.”
“Eleven days, to be specific.”
Eleven days. Not even two weeks. No time at all, really. But if lives could change in a heartbeat, what could happen in eleven days? You could fall in love, have your entire world turned upside down.
You could get your heart broken. Your soul broken.
She shook off the wave of pain. “Just a job.”
“Hmm.”
She sighed. “Who’s been talking?”
“Besides everyone?” He shrugged again. “You’re more blasé about partnering up with a rogue Protectorate squad than most people would be, Nina. I like that about you.”
Partnering. His choice of words led her to believe he didn’t know the truth about what had really happened. The way he was watching her, on the other hand, like he was waiting for her to correct him …
He knew, maybe everything.
For the first time, she wondered who he really was. She’d always figured he was a researcher with decent TechCorps security clearance. Overworked and underappreciated, padding his bank account and catching a few thrills by selling trade secrets on the side.
But the man sitting beside her now was no lonely lab rat with a hard-on for the nostalgic 1950s. He was too well informed. And too interested in her reactions.
“Cut the shit and tell me what you want, John.” Her hands were already in her pockets, and she closed her right one around the butterfly knife she kept stowed there. “If that’s even your real name.”
“Oh, it’s as real as most other things.” He didn’t seem upset at having been made. On the contrary, he accepted it with the same unflappable calm as everything else. “I have information, and I thought you might be interested.”
“How much?”
That raised his hackles. His brows drew together in a stern line. “Don’t be crass, Nina. This is a friendly heads-up.”
“Be still, my beating heart.”
He chuckled. “TechCorps execs want Garrett Knox’s head on a platter. The rest of his team too, but mostly him. They’ve authorized the Protectorate to use lethal force.”
“Obviously,” she muttered.
“Obviously. But more importantly…” He turned toward her on the bench. “They’ve authorized them to use resources.”
TechCorps executives would spill blood at the drop of a hat—especially if they didn’t have to get their own hands dirty doing it. But getting them to open their wallets was a whole different story. If they were prepared to spend big to hunt down and reacquire the Silver Devils …
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “How long?”
“I’d expect the first strike any day now.”
Maybe this was a TechCorps trap, after all … only she wasn’t the prey, she was the bait. “Uh-huh. And what do you expect me to do with this information?”
“I wouldn’t dare to presume. But your options seem somewhat limited.”
They were, in fact, precisely three.
One: she could turn them in. High-profile deserters often commanded hefty rewards for capture. If the bounty on the Silver Devils was anything like Maya’s had been, Nina and her crew could retire. After Knox and his men had been executed, she could take Maya and Dani and split. They could sail down to the western coast of Mexico, live like kings, and hate themselves forever.
Option one wasn’t an option at all.
Two: she could ignore the Professor’s warning. Knox and his men were on their own, and whatever happened … happened.
As choices went, it was barely better than the first.
Three: she could pass on the warning. Knox was a smart man. He’d probably already figured out that he and his squad needed to get the hell out of Atlanta. Out of Georgia. But, just in case he was being stubborn, she could let him know that the Protectorate wasn’t going to give up on finding him, and going on the run was his only rational move.
She knew which option she could live with. Now she just had to figure out how to survive another encounter with Garrett Knox.
* * *
SECURITY MEMO
Franklin Center for Genetic Research
Dr. Keller has been stripped of her security clearance and reassigned to our research division. All memos on B-designation subjects should be sent to Dr. Phillips.
Dr. Reed, February 2083
* * *
TWENTY-SIX
Knox stared at the bare concrete wall and ignored the impossible tickle inside his head. Luna’s third attempt to find a way to disable the degradation fail-safe in his implant had started off as their most optimistic effort yet, but her enthusiasm had