organization out there who’d decided our presence meant they had to get
rid of all of us.”
Jocelyne
bit her lip. “But if that’s the case, then why were they holding you instead of
just killing you? Were you a hostage as well?”
Harley’s
dark brows drew together as a thundercloud passed across his face. “No,” he
said harshly. “They were torturing me in a series of experiments to try and
test my limits,” he told them. “After that they were planning on engineering me
into some kind of super soldier, I guess. Like an evil Captain America, maybe.”
“But
why?” Jocelyne gasped. “If they hate shifters and supernaturals in general, why
would they want to use them?”
“They’re
fighting fire with fire. Guess they know they aren’t necessarily strong enough
to take us down on their own, so they’re recruiting and brainwashing some of us
to the cause.” An ugly look passed across Harley’s face. “I wonder who they’ll
go after next, if they can’t recapture me.”
Horror
chilled Jocelyne’s blood at the very thought. “We can’t let that happen,” she
said. “We have to stop them, however we can.”
“And
we will.” Harley pushed back his chair and headed upstairs. “By getting
whatever information we can back to the Order so we can figure out our next
move. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a report to make.”
Chapter Ten
Harley went upstairs to the guest bedroom
facing the front of the house, where Agent Lancaster was currently seated at a
desk, tapping away at a laptop. A flat screen television, connected to the
closed circuit cameras surreptitiously stationed around the house, outside and
inside, displayed six separate screens, and Harley confirmed with a quick
glance that there was no suspicious activity.
Yet.
“Hey
there.” Agent Lancaster swiveled around in his chair to face Harley. He had a
headful of blonde hair, and had ditched the dark shades, revealing dark green
eyes. “How was the pizza?”
“Good.”
Harley inclined his head. “Thanks for getting to us so fast.”
Lancaster
shrugged. “Just doing our job.” He jerked his thumb to the cordless phone on
the desk. “You need to make a call?”
“Yes
please.”
Harley
sat down on the guest bed, careful to stay out of sight of the windows, and
called the Commander again. This time, he was put straight through with practically
no hold time. “You made it to the safe house?” Fitsimmons demanded.
“Yes.”
“How
is my daughter.”
“Footsore,
but safe.” Harley winced when he remembered her flesh wound. “She was also shot
in the side while we were making our escape. “But she’s healing well.”
The
Commander let out a round of curses that were foul enough to make a sailor’s
ears turn red at the tips. “I’m going to annihilate the bastards who did this,”
he growled when he’d calmed down enough to speak again. “What can you tell me
about them?”
“Not
much, unfortunately.” Harley gave him a rundown of everything that had
happened, starting from his meeting at the bar with the informant, and ending
at their escape and subsequent stay at the cabin in the woods.”
“Dammit,”
the Commander said quietly when he’d finished. “So the Intel file is gone?”
“Yes
sir. I apologize.” His ears burned with shame at having to tell the Commander
just how he’d managed to lose the thing. “I take full responsibility for the
failure.”
“Damn
well you do,” Fitsimmons snapped. But then he sighed. “Not that