heart stroked by gentle hands. Like having his mind invaded by an angel.
He wanted to snort. Angels. There were no angels in this world and there was no other world. Angels didn’t exist, and no one had stroked his heart. Not that he had one anyway.
Damned if he understood what had happened, though. Something had. Something huge and scary.
She’d pulled this stuff on him out of thin air. How had she done it? Maybe it was like those magicians onstage who pulled up a member of the audience and asked them to think of a number and write it down. He’d always suspected those acts to be pure bluffs and the members of the audience part of the act.
But what Catherine Young had said had been, terrifyingly, the pure truth. She’d read him. Nailed him, like a butterfly to the board.
Mac wasn’t used to being seen, understood. He was used to being obeyed. The men under him in Ghost Ops knew damn all about him and that was the way he liked it. The only person to have a slight insight into him had been Lucius and already that had made him uncomfortable.
Even now, even in exile, Nick and Jon and the rest of the small community they seemed to be building knew him as a tough, strong leader with no chinks in his armor, nothing there to hang on to but a big, hard, shiny surface.
So being understood like that—it was scary. Even scarier was that he’d liked it, for that short burst of time in which she’d touched him. Before his head could catch up to what she was doing.
It had been like a shot of heroin to his system, and like any addict, now he craved it. He’d spent the night thinking of it—thinking of her . Remembering that soft touch, the rush of warmth spreading in an instant from her hand to his entire body, zinging through his veins.
She’d . . . glowed, while touching him. Like some unearthly creature. As if there were a thousand-watt lamp inside her beaming light and warmth. In that instant, she’d been impossibly beautiful, the most beautiful woman in the world. Some enchantress from another planet, too delicate and beautiful for this one.
That hadn’t lasted. When she’d broken the connection it was as if something had broken inside her. That pale skin no longer glowing but ashen. Shadows under those beautiful eyes. Nostrils pinched and pale.
That had kept him awake, too, because the glowing fairy princess from Planet Zog had been fascinating but the vulnerable, fragile woman who’d sprinkled fairy dust over him and paid a price for it nearly broke his heart.
He’d had to fist his hands to keep from putting his arms around her. He, Mac McEnroe, balls-to-the-wall tough guy who could and had watched enemies die by his hand without blinking, had been about to put his arms around a potential enemy. A completely unknown entity, who had somehow found them in their hideout. Someone who could put his community in jeopardy.
“Okay,” he said, putting on his war face, making his voice cool. “I’m going to see what else I can get out of her.”
Nick gave a curt nod, turned away and picked up the Hawk again.
Jon grinned and made kissy noises.
Mac flipped him the bird and walked out.
Chapter Six
Arka Pharmaceuticals Headquarters
San Francisco
The next morning, a vein in Lee’s temple started throbbing. He looked at the attendance sheet for work at the Millon facility. Dr. Catherine Young had not clocked in for the second day in a row.
He’d sent the Africa footage to the three research scientists at the Palo Alto Millon lab who were part of the complete protocol. Even so, they didn’t have the full picture, of course. All they knew was that they were engaged in secret military research beyond their normal duties. And that they were earning $100K a year more than the regular research scientists. They had no clue that Lee had another agenda entirely, which was, of course, perfect.
The day Lee defected back to the mainland with a complete program to turn the Red Army into history’s greatest
He wanted to snort. Angels. There were no angels in this world and there was no other world. Angels didn’t exist, and no one had stroked his heart. Not that he had one anyway.
Damned if he understood what had happened, though. Something had. Something huge and scary.
She’d pulled this stuff on him out of thin air. How had she done it? Maybe it was like those magicians onstage who pulled up a member of the audience and asked them to think of a number and write it down. He’d always suspected those acts to be pure bluffs and the members of the audience part of the act.
But what Catherine Young had said had been, terrifyingly, the pure truth. She’d read him. Nailed him, like a butterfly to the board.
Mac wasn’t used to being seen, understood. He was used to being obeyed. The men under him in Ghost Ops knew damn all about him and that was the way he liked it. The only person to have a slight insight into him had been Lucius and already that had made him uncomfortable.
Even now, even in exile, Nick and Jon and the rest of the small community they seemed to be building knew him as a tough, strong leader with no chinks in his armor, nothing there to hang on to but a big, hard, shiny surface.
So being understood like that—it was scary. Even scarier was that he’d liked it, for that short burst of time in which she’d touched him. Before his head could catch up to what she was doing.
It had been like a shot of heroin to his system, and like any addict, now he craved it. He’d spent the night thinking of it—thinking of her . Remembering that soft touch, the rush of warmth spreading in an instant from her hand to his entire body, zinging through his veins.
She’d . . . glowed, while touching him. Like some unearthly creature. As if there were a thousand-watt lamp inside her beaming light and warmth. In that instant, she’d been impossibly beautiful, the most beautiful woman in the world. Some enchantress from another planet, too delicate and beautiful for this one.
That hadn’t lasted. When she’d broken the connection it was as if something had broken inside her. That pale skin no longer glowing but ashen. Shadows under those beautiful eyes. Nostrils pinched and pale.
That had kept him awake, too, because the glowing fairy princess from Planet Zog had been fascinating but the vulnerable, fragile woman who’d sprinkled fairy dust over him and paid a price for it nearly broke his heart.
He’d had to fist his hands to keep from putting his arms around her. He, Mac McEnroe, balls-to-the-wall tough guy who could and had watched enemies die by his hand without blinking, had been about to put his arms around a potential enemy. A completely unknown entity, who had somehow found them in their hideout. Someone who could put his community in jeopardy.
“Okay,” he said, putting on his war face, making his voice cool. “I’m going to see what else I can get out of her.”
Nick gave a curt nod, turned away and picked up the Hawk again.
Jon grinned and made kissy noises.
Mac flipped him the bird and walked out.
Chapter Six
Arka Pharmaceuticals Headquarters
San Francisco
The next morning, a vein in Lee’s temple started throbbing. He looked at the attendance sheet for work at the Millon facility. Dr. Catherine Young had not clocked in for the second day in a row.
He’d sent the Africa footage to the three research scientists at the Palo Alto Millon lab who were part of the complete protocol. Even so, they didn’t have the full picture, of course. All they knew was that they were engaged in secret military research beyond their normal duties. And that they were earning $100K a year more than the regular research scientists. They had no clue that Lee had another agenda entirely, which was, of course, perfect.
The day Lee defected back to the mainland with a complete program to turn the Red Army into history’s greatest
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