11 by Kylie Brant

Since this was just the type of job guaranteed to bring future jobs his way, Jude was already constructing mental plans about the latest technology they could offer the man.
    And if he occasionally looked Mia’s way, it was just to assure himself that she’d suffered no ill effects from the procedure earlier. There was no sign of the hint of panic she’d displayed when the tech had mentioned drugs. Given her reaction he knew there was more to her aversion to drugs and needles than a queasy stomach. Much more.
    It was close to an hour and a half before he received a brief text from Raiker. Cryptic and abrupt, it was much like speaking to the man in person. As if choreographed, the same guard who had shown them the cafeteria appeared at the door. Jude wondered if the man had been posted outside it the whole time, or if he had received orders right before Jude’s message.
    “I’m to take you to Mr. Raiker. He arrived a short while ago.”
    They left the building that held the cafeteria and walked to the structure that contained Raiker’s offices, while the driver returned to the car. Jude had been there in the past. But always before he’d had a clue about what the hell he was doing there. His interest was piqued as the guard gave them over to another man stationed outside the door. Their IDs were checked again before the security guard used the palm print sensor for their entry.
    “The place is like Fort Knox,” muttered Mia as they entered a small waiting area.
    “There was a bounty on Adam’s head two years ago. A couple of the attempts were a bit close for comfort. He’s tightened safety precautions.” They waited for a few minutes until the next door opened. But instead of another guard, they were faced with Raiker himself.
    “I appreciate your waiting.” He nodded at Mia. “I wanted to talk to you after the results were back.” He led them down a long corridor and bypassed the security to get into the glassed in offices that housed his personal space. But he didn’t take them to his office. Instead they were led to a large conference room dominated by a long polished table and a large screen TV hanging on the wall.
    “I want to know about the test results,” Mia said bluntly. Rather than taking a seat, she remained standing. “Was the ink a match?”
    Jude eyed her carefully. He was beginning to recognize her moods. Forced inactivity brought on restlessness. Which then increased her unpredictability. Funny that he should have learned that now, after spending a few days with her. Five years ago their business relationship had lasted months. At the end of that time he’d known no more about her than he had at the start.
    “To cut to the chase, yes.” Raiker went to a shelf beneath the TV and picked up a remote. “As I said earlier, in terms of the investigation, the link isn’t much help in that we aren’t going to be able to trace it. Too common. Far too many distribution channels. But the similarity in composition is intriguing. No chemicals, toxics, lead, or plastics found in some. The main components are water, sodium and aluminum, which places the ink in the organic category, for marketing purposes.”
    “That’s not so unusual these days.” Jude kept watch on Mia from the corner of his eye. Pulling out a chair he sat next to hers, hoping she’d do the same. She didn’t. Her gaze was riveted on Raiker. “More and more people are requesting non-toxic ink these days. The composition isn’t regulated by the FDA.”
    “What is irregular is that the scientific makeup of both samples is exactly the same.”
    Her voice was dispassionate. “You’re saying the same person might have tattooed both of us?”
    “No. All I can say is there’s a good possibility you were both branded with the same ink. I’m going to ask you to carry your cooperation a little further. My forensic anthropologist just completed a facial reconstruction for identification purposes. She’s submitting the likeness to