Hide and Seek - Lara Adrian Page 0,31

it all. “The explosion?”

“More like a fucking annihilation.”

Duarte nodded. “I started seeing it within days after Phoenix went dark.”

“Yeah, me, too. It’s always the same vision, always in the form of a dream. I know how it’s going to play out, but I can never make it in time to stop it.”

There was little comfort in that confirmation. If either of them had wanted to deny the nightmare was attributable to their precognitive gifts, that hope evaporated now.

“The vision, the outcome... it’s always the same,” Duarte murmured. The images were still fresh in his mind. They replayed now in rapid speed, like the flickering frames of an old projector film. “The building. The heat and flames. It consumes everything.”

Alec listened in knowing silence, his head bobbing faintly in agreement with everything he was hearing. He exhaled a curse under his breath. “It’s the sight of those kids that shreds me the most. Even more than when I feel my own face melting off my skull.”

“The kids?” Duarte’s thoughts ground to a halt. He turned a confused look on his friend. “What do you mean?”

“The ten kids playing basketball when the explosion detonates.”

“No. That’s not right.” He set his coffee down in the sand beside him. “There aren’t any kids in my vision.”

Now Alec was staring at him in doubt. “I try to warn them to get out of the way, but they don’t seem to hear me. So, I start running toward them. And that’s when everything blows apart.”

Duarte shook his head. “The explosion goes off right after I find the guns in the cabinet. There are three of them—military rifles. I grab one, but then I realize it’s all fucked up. Rusted, corroded. Useless. When I reach for another one, I hear the first rumble in the building outside. It’s already too late by then. I run out to try to stop what’s going to happen, but it’s too late...”

Alec said nothing, but then he didn’t have to.

“No guns in your vision.” Duarte rubbed his hand over his forehead. “So, the premonitions aren’t exactly the same—”

Alec’s expression was grim. “Other than the end result.”

Death. Destruction. Mass-scale obliteration.

Duarte stared out at the Atlantic, and the muted light now reaching over the horizon. “Do you think we’re the only Phoenix operatives having this vision? It seems odd—too coincidental—that it started after the program went down.”

“You think there’s a connection?” Alec blew out a short sigh. “Jesus Christ, Ranger. If that’s true...”

“Then the past three years that all of us have been on the run and in hiding was only giving Phoenix’s enemies the chance to grow stronger. To make plans.” A curse erupted out of him. “They drove us underground when we needed to be on their asses, hunting the bastards down instead of looking over our shoulders.”

“They knew we’d scatter after Sheppard was killed,” Alec murmured. “Somehow they had to know what his instructions had been to all of us if the program was ever compromised.”

“Assume the worst. Cut all ties. Run and hide.” Duarte recited the founder’s orders, fury beginning to boil in his veins. “Trust no one. Not even one another.”

Alec nodded soberly. “If they knew how to get us out of their way, then someone had to tell them. Someone who’s been working from the inside for a long time. Maybe the entire time.”

Duarte didn’t want to acknowledge it. The possibility grated, not only because Kyle Becker was Lisa’s beloved brother, but because he’d been a close friend. Duarte’s best, most trusted friend. Alec’s too.

“He’s got more honor than that,” Duarte said. “Christ, let him have more honor than that.”

Alec stared at him. “I know what I saw, man. He’s on the wrong side of this.”

“And all I know is what you’ve told me. You say you had a premonition Talon’s turned. Maybe you did. Maybe you didn’t.” He searched the face of his former comrade, looking for cracks in the friendly facade. “How do I know you’re not on the wrong side, too? Spying on Lisa, following her up to my place, hanging around with drug dealers and their armed thugs like they’re your fucking family? Far as I can tell, you’re nothing but suspicion and secrets, Stingray.”

“They are my family.”

Duarte felt his brows crash together. “What?”

Alec shrugged. “Diego Zapata owns this place. He deals in weed mainly, with the occasional side-deal in guns. He operates out of Miami, and before you ask, yeah. I’ve done a few jobs for him these past three years. I’d