Free Shadows to Light (Shadows of Justice 5) by Regan Black Page A

hospital. She looks good. Hey do you –"
    "A suit?" Mira cut in, ignoring the long look from Callahan and an altogether different look from Jameson.
    "He said he was writing up the accident report. No one mentioned you."
    Mira didn't believe it. It was too tidy. "Thanks, Kevin." She disconnected, accepted her verified clean cell card, and mentally sorted through the options. "Can you scan me for any sort of tracking device?"
    "What's the problem?" Jameson asked while Callahan reached for the scanner.
    "I wrecked this op, I'm trying to figure out just how I did it."
    "You were clean when we got you out," Callahan said.
    "I was sedated."
    "When? By who?"
    "For security." Callahan's defense squashed Jameson's curiosity.
    "Scan me anyway."
    "Whatever." Callahan did as she asked and when the scanner sounded off, detecting the tracking device she'd suspected, both men gaped at her.
    "If you knew about this why the hell –"
    "I didn't know until I recognized the enforcers Jameson fought with. I thought I was distracting some of the crew holding my dad."
    "So did I. Enforcers." Callahan stared at her. "I'll be damned."
    "You knew that pair?"
    She nodded at Jameson's question. "They were part of the security detail that hauled me back home. They must have implanted the trace sometime during my stay. Possibly earlier. I could explain the bio-, neuro-reactions and reasons behind why it didn't show up when they sedated me."
    "God, spare me," Callahan said making a sign of the cross at her. "What do you want to do?"
    "That depends on your goal here." Once more the single eyebrow lifted. "You may be shut down, but I'm a free agent."
    "Bullshit."
    "Well, there is a rumor my country needs me."
    This time he offered a colorful assessment of her assets and abilities, but the arrogant brow turned into a moody scowl. "Not until you find someone to disable that bastard marker."
    "I've got the jammer going," Jameson said, though he kept his face on the dot traveling once more across his monitor.
    "Let me get this thing out and then I can go in and get my dad."
    "It won't be that simple," Jameson protested.
    Callahan cut him off. "Let her get that thing out and then we'll talk." He turned back to Mira. "What do you need?"
    "A little privacy."
    "Plenty of that. Pick a room."
    "Fine. And a jar or container. In case it comes out in tact," she clarified.
    Callahan glanced around, opted for a small metal tin of mints. Dumping out the contents, he handed it to Mira. "Best I've got."
    She accepted it and left, not missing the worried tone when Jameson asked what she meant by 'in case'.
    She wasn't about to tell them exactly how dangerous this sort of a maneuver could be. Her motivation to protect those around her would have to be enough, would have to be a beacon to follow back to consciousness if the device reacted poorly to her attempt to remove it.
    She wouldn't put such a thing past the order. Where and why had they gone so far afield from the original mandate to help others? No, the healers couldn't deal in miracles all the time. Yes, the number of true healers was dwindling, an effect of a sheltered life and micromanaged community. She knew from experience, from being out here and living in the wider world, that practice, good will, desire, and training could improve any inherent skill.
    Mira caught her reflection in the mirror mounted to the back of the suite door and studied her face. Not the face of a radical, and yet the elders of her order considered her just that.
    "Moldy old hypocrites," she said aloud, wondering if they could hear her too, or if they just followed her every movement. The elders of her order were capable of all kinds of bio-based advances. Which meant it wasn't going to be comfortable to extract.
    She indulged in a moment of wishing for back up, then settled on the floor to deal with the task. Pushing away any negative thoughts and doubts, she quieted her mind. When the random thoughts slowed to a trickle, she started poking