warm throat squirming under his grip, he bared his teeth. “Gotcha.” He tightened his grip just enough that a ghostly outline of the man appeared. “No one will be careless with her life.”
“Not even you?” Chameleon rasped. His wraithlike hands tugged uselessly against Noah’s hold.
“Noah, let him go.” Daria rested her hand lightly on his shoulder. No judgement, merely a gentle reminder that he could be human if he chose to be. He spread his fingers and stepped back. For her.
“You really think you can stop yourself from doing the deed? Sparing me doesn’t mean you’ll forget your assignment. Messenger owns you, man. We all know he gives an order and you follow it. Frankly I’m surprised you’ve fought it this long.”
“Quiet, Ben!” Daria pulled him back when he wanted to lunge for the crazy jerk again. “He’s not under any kind of mind control.”
Noah hoped she was right. There were times when it had felt as though Messenger’s will overrode his common sense and the decency she seemed to believe he’d been born with. Not to mention his dignity. Until she’d said his name, he hadn’t thought of himself as a person independent from his work in ages. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
What if it was a proximity thing? He’d seen something similar in testing, though not specifically mind control. When a device was close enough, it would trigger an enhancement or bring an alteration to the forefront of a subject. It had failed frequently, but Noah had seen it work on one or two UI agents who made it through and served the program.
“Why don’t we hand over my laptop to Chameleon along with notes about what you know and then we’ll catch the next plane out of here,” Daria suggested.
Chameleon laughed and Noah’s fists flexed, ready to pound that sick sense of humor right out of him. “You’re wicked funny, Doc. That tracker inside your big bad boyfriend will pinpoint his location wherever you go. Anywhere in the world.”
Noah knew Chameleon was right. Useless to fight it. He should share what he knew and get as far from her, from all of them, as possible. He would do that. As soon as he’d extracted Chameleon’s promise to get her to safety.
“Will Bulletproof have a better suggestion?” She voiced the question with more control than he felt.
Glancing down, he caught the slight move as she drummed her fingers on her thigh under the table. It was nice to know the invisible man was getting under her skin as well. He was about to explain his plan when the security panel downstairs chimed and the hinges on the door squeaked. A light flashed on and quickly blinked out again.
“Who’s there?” he called down, putting his body between Daria and any potential danger.
“You really have to ask?”
Great. He glared at the two people moving up the stairs. Bulletproof, one of the original stars out of the UI labs, had joined the party. Offended that he needed the help of a man officially dead, he rubbed at the goosebumps rushing over his forearms while he considered his dwindling options. Once Daria was safe he could go back and tear UI apart one facility at a time.
He waited until Bulletproof and Bennett, the reporter no longer dead by explosion, joined them on the upper level. “John Noble and Amelia Bennett,” the former agent said, hand extended to Daria.
Noah ignored a strange rush of jealousy over the brief contact and Daria’s warm greeting.
“Daria Johannson and Noah D’Cruz,” she answered for them.
Behind them, Chameleon coughed up some awkward sound that landed between a hairball and the End Game nickname. Noah ignored him.
“D’Cruz?” The redheaded reporter gave him a long look before she slid a glance over her shoulder toward Bulletproof. “I remember a story about a Marine by that name, several years ago.”
Noah didn’t offer any comment. He didn’t know anything about his history other than what Daria had shared. “Thanks for the hideout. What
“Not even you?” Chameleon rasped. His wraithlike hands tugged uselessly against Noah’s hold.
“Noah, let him go.” Daria rested her hand lightly on his shoulder. No judgement, merely a gentle reminder that he could be human if he chose to be. He spread his fingers and stepped back. For her.
“You really think you can stop yourself from doing the deed? Sparing me doesn’t mean you’ll forget your assignment. Messenger owns you, man. We all know he gives an order and you follow it. Frankly I’m surprised you’ve fought it this long.”
“Quiet, Ben!” Daria pulled him back when he wanted to lunge for the crazy jerk again. “He’s not under any kind of mind control.”
Noah hoped she was right. There were times when it had felt as though Messenger’s will overrode his common sense and the decency she seemed to believe he’d been born with. Not to mention his dignity. Until she’d said his name, he hadn’t thought of himself as a person independent from his work in ages. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
What if it was a proximity thing? He’d seen something similar in testing, though not specifically mind control. When a device was close enough, it would trigger an enhancement or bring an alteration to the forefront of a subject. It had failed frequently, but Noah had seen it work on one or two UI agents who made it through and served the program.
“Why don’t we hand over my laptop to Chameleon along with notes about what you know and then we’ll catch the next plane out of here,” Daria suggested.
Chameleon laughed and Noah’s fists flexed, ready to pound that sick sense of humor right out of him. “You’re wicked funny, Doc. That tracker inside your big bad boyfriend will pinpoint his location wherever you go. Anywhere in the world.”
Noah knew Chameleon was right. Useless to fight it. He should share what he knew and get as far from her, from all of them, as possible. He would do that. As soon as he’d extracted Chameleon’s promise to get her to safety.
“Will Bulletproof have a better suggestion?” She voiced the question with more control than he felt.
Glancing down, he caught the slight move as she drummed her fingers on her thigh under the table. It was nice to know the invisible man was getting under her skin as well. He was about to explain his plan when the security panel downstairs chimed and the hinges on the door squeaked. A light flashed on and quickly blinked out again.
“Who’s there?” he called down, putting his body between Daria and any potential danger.
“You really have to ask?”
Great. He glared at the two people moving up the stairs. Bulletproof, one of the original stars out of the UI labs, had joined the party. Offended that he needed the help of a man officially dead, he rubbed at the goosebumps rushing over his forearms while he considered his dwindling options. Once Daria was safe he could go back and tear UI apart one facility at a time.
He waited until Bulletproof and Bennett, the reporter no longer dead by explosion, joined them on the upper level. “John Noble and Amelia Bennett,” the former agent said, hand extended to Daria.
Noah ignored a strange rush of jealousy over the brief contact and Daria’s warm greeting.
“Daria Johannson and Noah D’Cruz,” she answered for them.
Behind them, Chameleon coughed up some awkward sound that landed between a hairball and the End Game nickname. Noah ignored him.
“D’Cruz?” The redheaded reporter gave him a long look before she slid a glance over her shoulder toward Bulletproof. “I remember a story about a Marine by that name, several years ago.”
Noah didn’t offer any comment. He didn’t know anything about his history other than what Daria had shared. “Thanks for the hideout. What
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