your side!"
"Quiet," Jameson ordered, rushing back to his prisoner. He was screwing this up beyond all recognition tonight. He'd be lucky if Callahan didn't bust him down a rank. Or two. "You can chat it up at any volume later," he whispered. "You alert anyone that we're here and I'll just up the body count." Jameson wanted to smack the guy, but didn't trust the enforcer not to turn the contact to his advantage. "Don't make me gag you."
"Is she close? Is she in trouble?"
Jameson took two steps back, withdrew his gun and fired a rubber bullet into the guy's belly. The groaning he could ignore until his job was complete.
In the diagnostic area, Jameson noted the microscope Callahan had tagged was already gone. Another day with time to kill, Jameson could wonder about the whys and hows of that.
He looked around assessing and rejecting various hiding places for the info Callahan wanted.
Hard copies. Even twenty years ago, they were nearly obsolete. Still, Callahan insisted hardcopies were around here somewhere.
Jameson turned at the sound of movement behind him and swore. The living enforcer had managed to get to his feet and shuffle to the doorway. "You're a real pain in the ass. Why shouldn't I kill you?"
"On your side." The guy's battle to breathe properly mollified Jameson a bit. "You're after the list of patients with a specific genetic marker, right?"
Jameson ignored him and went back to his search. If the situation was reversed he'd use every ploy to distract and eventually disarm his captor.
"I already have it." The prisoner dipped his chin toward his chest. "Found it taped to the bottom of the desk drawer. It's yours if you take me to Mira."
"It's mine regardless," Jameson drew his weapon and took a step forward.
The prisoner lurched, falling into Jameson and knocking the gun away. But he was ready for the dirty tactics this time and fought back accordingly with a stomp to the guy's cuffed feet. When the prisoner maneuvered so his cuffed hands were in front of his body, Jameson danced out of his reach. Remembering how Mira subdued the two enforcers, he put all he had into a blow to the neck, hoping he'd get lucky and at least slow the guy down.
It only bought him a few seconds but it was enough to secure his weapon and snatch the report from the prisoner's inner jacket pocket.
Callahan had given him a specific name and Jameson verified it was on the report. So the prisoner wasn't lying, but he wasn't about to forgive and release.
"Take me to Mira," the enforcer pleaded as Jameson locked him in a supply closet.
"Give me a name. Maybe I'll bring her to you."
"I have information she needs."
"Name."
"Luke Conrad. If you leave me here, I'll be dead before you get back."
"Then you would've done it yourself like your buddies."
"No." The prisoner threw himself against the door. "With two implants offline they'll think I'm captured. Which is what they want. If they find me alive, alone, they'll kill me for failing. Which is what you don't want."
"Some days suck like that." He had to get down to the lab and Mira. "If you're quiet maybe they won't find you."
"God help me. You're an idiot." The prisoner swore and threw himself into the door again. "Tell her where I am. Let her decide."
Jameson wasn't about to risk Mira or jeopardize the primary task here. Using the card Callahan gave him for this job, he keyed in the coded message about his progress. He followed that with a second message requesting a clean up team.
As he waited for the stealth disc to make him invisible, he listened at the door for any nonsense from the prisoner. Since the mission was compartmentalized for security, he didn't know who Callahan would send to extract the bodies and prisoner. He tried not to care, tried not to think about how the prisoner knew Mira or why he didn't kill himself when his partners did.
He tried not to think about what he didn't know, what he didn't need to know, to do his job. And then he tried to blend in to
"Quiet," Jameson ordered, rushing back to his prisoner. He was screwing this up beyond all recognition tonight. He'd be lucky if Callahan didn't bust him down a rank. Or two. "You can chat it up at any volume later," he whispered. "You alert anyone that we're here and I'll just up the body count." Jameson wanted to smack the guy, but didn't trust the enforcer not to turn the contact to his advantage. "Don't make me gag you."
"Is she close? Is she in trouble?"
Jameson took two steps back, withdrew his gun and fired a rubber bullet into the guy's belly. The groaning he could ignore until his job was complete.
In the diagnostic area, Jameson noted the microscope Callahan had tagged was already gone. Another day with time to kill, Jameson could wonder about the whys and hows of that.
He looked around assessing and rejecting various hiding places for the info Callahan wanted.
Hard copies. Even twenty years ago, they were nearly obsolete. Still, Callahan insisted hardcopies were around here somewhere.
Jameson turned at the sound of movement behind him and swore. The living enforcer had managed to get to his feet and shuffle to the doorway. "You're a real pain in the ass. Why shouldn't I kill you?"
"On your side." The guy's battle to breathe properly mollified Jameson a bit. "You're after the list of patients with a specific genetic marker, right?"
Jameson ignored him and went back to his search. If the situation was reversed he'd use every ploy to distract and eventually disarm his captor.
"I already have it." The prisoner dipped his chin toward his chest. "Found it taped to the bottom of the desk drawer. It's yours if you take me to Mira."
"It's mine regardless," Jameson drew his weapon and took a step forward.
The prisoner lurched, falling into Jameson and knocking the gun away. But he was ready for the dirty tactics this time and fought back accordingly with a stomp to the guy's cuffed feet. When the prisoner maneuvered so his cuffed hands were in front of his body, Jameson danced out of his reach. Remembering how Mira subdued the two enforcers, he put all he had into a blow to the neck, hoping he'd get lucky and at least slow the guy down.
It only bought him a few seconds but it was enough to secure his weapon and snatch the report from the prisoner's inner jacket pocket.
Callahan had given him a specific name and Jameson verified it was on the report. So the prisoner wasn't lying, but he wasn't about to forgive and release.
"Take me to Mira," the enforcer pleaded as Jameson locked him in a supply closet.
"Give me a name. Maybe I'll bring her to you."
"I have information she needs."
"Name."
"Luke Conrad. If you leave me here, I'll be dead before you get back."
"Then you would've done it yourself like your buddies."
"No." The prisoner threw himself against the door. "With two implants offline they'll think I'm captured. Which is what they want. If they find me alive, alone, they'll kill me for failing. Which is what you don't want."
"Some days suck like that." He had to get down to the lab and Mira. "If you're quiet maybe they won't find you."
"God help me. You're an idiot." The prisoner swore and threw himself into the door again. "Tell her where I am. Let her decide."
Jameson wasn't about to risk Mira or jeopardize the primary task here. Using the card Callahan gave him for this job, he keyed in the coded message about his progress. He followed that with a second message requesting a clean up team.
As he waited for the stealth disc to make him invisible, he listened at the door for any nonsense from the prisoner. Since the mission was compartmentalized for security, he didn't know who Callahan would send to extract the bodies and prisoner. He tried not to care, tried not to think about how the prisoner knew Mira or why he didn't kill himself when his partners did.
He tried not to think about what he didn't know, what he didn't need to know, to do his job. And then he tried to blend in to
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