Dunsmoor.”
“Why would he do that? How does he know about us?”
“We had a breach of security at the War Office last night. We think he posed as another officer to get in and infiltrate our file. That’s how he would have known you’re being sent to fetch him.”
“By pose, you mean—”
“What happened to his face?” Jasper interrupted
“Last year while he was on a mission for us, one of Captain Dunsmoor’s explosions backfired and caused him significant injury. His identity was exposed to the French. By the time we recovered him and brought him to the good doctor, his life hung by a thread. The heart transplant almost didn’t take. Nobody believed that the damage to his face was repairable, but Helmholtz had been working on a way to synthesize skin cells using his nanites. The War Office requested that in the course of treatment, the captain’s appearance be…altered so his skills could be used more efficiently upon recovery.”
Callie gasped. “You mean you altered his appearance on purpose? Just so that you could use him as a spy?”
Black’s mouth pressed together in a thin line. “As much as you may believe it to be so, I am not personally responsible for every action of the War Office, madam,” he snapped.
“No,” Jasper countered, disgust evident in his sharp tone. “But I’ll lay bets that you could take credit for at least half of them.”
Black raised a brow and sneered. “And would we lay the other half at your feet then, Colonel? ”
Jasper’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t rise to the bait. Callie knew he’d tried to break free of his past…right up until the day she was attacked. To save her, he’d gotten on his knees before the very same organization that had nearly stripped his soul and promised to serve them again. It was why Callie had insisted on being his partner. If he was to be indebted, she refused to let him descend back into hell alone.
“So who is he? Whose face did you give him?” he demanded of General Black.
Oh, dear lord. It couldn’t be true, could it? She could understand that in the course of repairing the damage, the man might have come out of it looking a little different. But to have been given someone else’s face. Someone specific. That was diabolical.
“We captured a colonel of the Renegade forces who we understood to be privy to very sensitive information. All our efforts to interrogate him had failed. He happened to match Captain Dunsmoor in size, height and coloring.” The general’s words were clipped, his tone sharp, as if he would provide the facts but nothing more. “The opportunity presented itself, and when Dunsmoor healed from the procedure, he was an exact match for the enemy soldier.”
“Ah, God. Did you even ask him before you hacked away at his face? Christ, of course not.” Jasper spun away and pushed a hand through his hair with a harsh oath before he rounded on Black again. “You took his identity. Turned him into the enemy, and he has no way to ever come back from it. It’s no bloody wonder he turned on you. Jesus.”
Callie was the only one to notice the small twitch in the general’s temple. Was the situation getting to him as deeply as it did Jasper? At some point someone had made him the face of the War Office. From what she knew of him, he wouldn’t have appreciated that. His shoulders were wide enough to take on the burden, but it couldn’t be easy being the one who would always bear the consequences of Britain’s intelligence efforts, which were rarely well received when exposed to the public, and often underhanded and devious.
Why did he continue to align himself with the War Office if he didn’t agree with their methods? Perhaps he was indebted to those in command just as she and Jasper were. Either way, she would never ask. He would definitely never tell.
“This is information we should have been given immediately.” Jasper was practically shouting. “Before the man tried to kill us.”
“But
“Why would he do that? How does he know about us?”
“We had a breach of security at the War Office last night. We think he posed as another officer to get in and infiltrate our file. That’s how he would have known you’re being sent to fetch him.”
“By pose, you mean—”
“What happened to his face?” Jasper interrupted
“Last year while he was on a mission for us, one of Captain Dunsmoor’s explosions backfired and caused him significant injury. His identity was exposed to the French. By the time we recovered him and brought him to the good doctor, his life hung by a thread. The heart transplant almost didn’t take. Nobody believed that the damage to his face was repairable, but Helmholtz had been working on a way to synthesize skin cells using his nanites. The War Office requested that in the course of treatment, the captain’s appearance be…altered so his skills could be used more efficiently upon recovery.”
Callie gasped. “You mean you altered his appearance on purpose? Just so that you could use him as a spy?”
Black’s mouth pressed together in a thin line. “As much as you may believe it to be so, I am not personally responsible for every action of the War Office, madam,” he snapped.
“No,” Jasper countered, disgust evident in his sharp tone. “But I’ll lay bets that you could take credit for at least half of them.”
Black raised a brow and sneered. “And would we lay the other half at your feet then, Colonel? ”
Jasper’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t rise to the bait. Callie knew he’d tried to break free of his past…right up until the day she was attacked. To save her, he’d gotten on his knees before the very same organization that had nearly stripped his soul and promised to serve them again. It was why Callie had insisted on being his partner. If he was to be indebted, she refused to let him descend back into hell alone.
“So who is he? Whose face did you give him?” he demanded of General Black.
Oh, dear lord. It couldn’t be true, could it? She could understand that in the course of repairing the damage, the man might have come out of it looking a little different. But to have been given someone else’s face. Someone specific. That was diabolical.
“We captured a colonel of the Renegade forces who we understood to be privy to very sensitive information. All our efforts to interrogate him had failed. He happened to match Captain Dunsmoor in size, height and coloring.” The general’s words were clipped, his tone sharp, as if he would provide the facts but nothing more. “The opportunity presented itself, and when Dunsmoor healed from the procedure, he was an exact match for the enemy soldier.”
“Ah, God. Did you even ask him before you hacked away at his face? Christ, of course not.” Jasper spun away and pushed a hand through his hair with a harsh oath before he rounded on Black again. “You took his identity. Turned him into the enemy, and he has no way to ever come back from it. It’s no bloody wonder he turned on you. Jesus.”
Callie was the only one to notice the small twitch in the general’s temple. Was the situation getting to him as deeply as it did Jasper? At some point someone had made him the face of the War Office. From what she knew of him, he wouldn’t have appreciated that. His shoulders were wide enough to take on the burden, but it couldn’t be easy being the one who would always bear the consequences of Britain’s intelligence efforts, which were rarely well received when exposed to the public, and often underhanded and devious.
Why did he continue to align himself with the War Office if he didn’t agree with their methods? Perhaps he was indebted to those in command just as she and Jasper were. Either way, she would never ask. He would definitely never tell.
“This is information we should have been given immediately.” Jasper was practically shouting. “Before the man tried to kill us.”
“But
Similar Books
