Agent N6: Dylan (10 page)

“Where are you going?” Rising to his feet, he stopped in front of her when she tried to leave his bedroom.

She gave his nude body a quick onceover, her cheeks flushing. “We both have jobs, Mr. McCall. It’s not like we can call in sick.”

Thank God for that. Knowing she had to stay at the compound made one less thing he had to worry about. She’d be safe as long as she stayed on site.

He rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “Until things settle down, I want you to stay around the lab and people you know.”

Searching his face, her eyes widened. “You don’t suspect clones here at the compound, do you?”

“Hell, baby, D.I.R.E.’s been infiltrated before.”

“Yes, Jocelyn told me about it. She also said Mitchell has taken great care in recruiting staff, as a result.” Looking away, she gave a half laugh. “Which makes me wonder why he brought me on, when he has my communications monitored.”

He kissed her forehead. “I’ll talk to Mitchell about removing your restrictions.”

Shrugging, she smiled up at him. “It really wouldn’t matter to me, but Dr. Capri tried to call several times and the calls didn’t go through. I hate to be unavailable if he has questions regarding the lab.”

Dylan nodded. “Consider it done.”

Rising up on tiptoe, she gave him a quick kiss. “I really need to go. I have a ton of work waiting for me.”

The doctor was back on duty. “Speaking of, have you seen any differences in Van’s results?”

She said, “His labs all came back normal. So far, other than the nanobots in his blood, he’s just like you and me. He shows no physical differences from anyone else.”

Maybe if he paid a visit to the laboratory rat, Van could give him some insight into reading clones. He always preferred to know how things worked. Maybe if he interrogated the asshole himself, he could pick up on something he might have seen on the island or in the Altays.

Slipping into a short tank dress lying on the back of a chair, Teague flipped her hair into a quick knot on her head. “If I find anything else, you’ll be the first to know.”

He approached her with slow footsteps, her all-business mode really turning him on. Grabbing her hand, he yanked her to him.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your little episodes.”

For some reason, she didn’t think she could tell him about her illness. He didn’t know if that was excessive pride, low self-esteem, or
her
mistrust of
him
.

She stiffened, her gaze going to his chest. “Dylan, I’m fine.”

He knew better. However, he also knew better than to push her. She’d just push back with more gusto.

Catching her bottom lip in her teeth, she turned away and grabbed her clutch on the chair. “I just don’t… open up much.”

No news flash there. “I know.”

She looked up at him, her eyes round with worry. “So, don’t hold your breath, okay?”

His mind started to think the worst before he reined it in.
Not even going there
.

Regardless, he’d never jeopardize what they’d shared last night. Nothing could trump that.

He grinned down at her. “Breathing.”

“I didn’t receive orders to allow you entrance.”

Dylan scanned his thumbprint over the access panel without looking at the security guard. “I don’t need orders.” He held up his armband.

Giving Dylan a skeptical glare, the guard resumed his watch beside the security cell door.

Walking inside, Dylan smirked at the surprised look on Van’s face. The clone looked like the walking dead, his skin pale and milky white, his flesh covered with healing blisters.

If Dylan had his way, he
would
be dead soon.

“McCall.” Van rose from the bed and faced him, admiration and menace gleaming in his blue eyes.

Dylan crossed his arms over his chest, showing off his armbands.

Van cocked a half grin. “You’ve made some changes.”

Dylan nodded at his blistered arms. “So have you.”

Scowling, Van narrowed his eyes. “Just another difference between your world and ours. Mr. Matheson doesn’t believe in violence and hatred. Whereas, D.I.R.E. seems to use it as a foundation.”

He scoffed at Van’s warped reasoning. “Yes, that was apparent on the beach when your team swooped in, helicopters and guns blazing.”

“Our goal was to retrieve Dr. Hamilton peacefully. We expected D.I.R.E.’s resistance and came prepared.”

Just the mention of Teague’s name on his tongue made Dylan livid. Clenching his jaw, he refrained from twisting the clone’s neck in one snap.

“You’ll never touch Dr. Hamilton.”

Van gave him a confident grin. “Mr. Matheson will have her. It’s inevitable.”

“It’s delusional.”

Van crossed to the lone window and looked out, his bare feet soundless on the tile floor. His white t-shirt looked wrinkled and stretched out, his grey sweatpants belling at his ankles.

“She’s part of the master plan. It’s her destiny.”

Teague’s tattoo flashed into his head, his heart galloping in wild beats.
Destiny’s Child
. Was she part of Matheson’s scheme, after all? Had she been lying to all of them so she could get her hands on Matheson’s technology?

Was last night part of her plan?

Pain and anger warred inside him, building, swirling like a tempest waiting to unleash.

“How could it be her destiny?” Dylan said. “She only accepted the job a few weeks ago.”

Van’s patronizing grin spurred Dylan into action. He glared at Van while nanobots skittered out of the channels of his armbands. Watching them assemble, the clone backed away as replicas of Agent Monroe’s gloves appeared in Dylan’s hands.

The same gloves Monroe had used to interrogate Van days earlier.

Dylan’s replicas may not have the same punch without Monroe’s electrical conduction, but they would hurt. Slipping them on, Dylan caught him around the throat and held him up against the wall.

“I’m not afraid to die, McCall. Your physical threat is no threat to me.”

Dylan tightened his hold on Van’s throat. Blood seeped into his cheeks.

“I live only to serve Mr. Matheson’s interests.” His evil grin infuriated Dylan all the more. “Just as you served him.”

Growling aloud, Dylan slammed him against the wall, shooting a jolt of electricity through the gloves and into his body. The clone shuddered in violent tremors, his eyes rolling back in his head. It would only take a few seconds more and he’d be dead. One in thousands of Matheson’s freaks he needed to destroy.

Yet, he knew Mitchell would kill him,
then
fire him, if he killed the clone now.

Dylan let him fall to the floor. The nanobots trailed back into his armbands. “I’m no part of Matheson’s sick plan. I’m the one that will bring it down.”

Van’s weak laugh grated along his raw nerves. “Do you not recognize your eyes in my head, McCall?” Narrow, blue-green eyes stared back at him with malice – and resignation.

“You were a part of it, whether you like it or not.”

Grabbing him by the shirtfront, Dylan spoke through gritted teeth. “What do you mean
were
?”

Van clenched a fist. His knuckles and bones glowed a bright green beneath his skin. What the hell…?

“That detonator attached to your heart, McCall?”

Dylan dropped him to the floor and backed away, his heart pounding.

“I have one, too.”

The clone squeezed his fist tighter. The green light flashed.

Van stiffened – before Dylan dropped to the floor.

***

Teague heard the alarm go off in the main lab. Whipping around, she rushed to the doorway of her office.

“That’s McCall, Clint.” Jocelyn jumped up from her chair and ran across the room to a cabinet.

Teague’s heart stopped in her chest. “What?”

Rolling his chair over to the main computer panel, Clint pulled up a window. “He’s in the security wing. Let’s go.”

They ran out of the lab like a pack of dogs was on their tail. Teague followed them out, yelling after them down the hall.

“What’s happened?”

Rushing to the crossroads of the facility, they flew down the stairs and through the security wing hall. “Dylan’s armbands went off. He’s in trouble.”

God, no…

“
In here
.” A guard stood at the far end of the hall, pointing into Van’s security cell.

Hurrying through the doorway behind Clint and Jocelyn, Teague stopped short. Dylan lay on the floor drenched in sweat, his face beet red.

Thank God. He was alive.

Running inside, she dropped down beside him. His shirt was ripped from neck to navel, an open slice down the middle of his chest. Blood pooled up from the raw crevice, nanobots crawling inside the cavity like a swarm of ants.

Holding her hand against her mouth, Teague’s heart pounded against her ribs in erratic beats. Dylan lay on the floor, covered in blood, trying to remove the device from his heart.

Don’t panic, Teague
.
This is Dylan. He always finds a way out
.

“Holy shit, McCall,” Clint cried, from the other side of his body. “What are you doing?”

Dylan roared through clenched teeth, his entire body trembling. “Don’t… touch me. Have to… focus.”

Whipping off her trouser belt, Teague held it against his teeth. “Here, bite down.”

His teeth clamped down on the thick leather.

“This isn’t sterile, McCall,” Clint said, his eyes on the tiny robots. “You’ll die.”

She fought the urge to cover her ears.
Don’t say that. He can’t die. I just found him.

“Dying… anyway,” he said, between his teeth and the belt.

No. She refused to accept that
.

She turned to Clint, then Jocelyn, who lay across Dylan’s legs to keep them still. “Why are you just sitting there? Get a shot of epinephrine ready. We need to pour alcohol on the open wound.”

She knew she should sit back and let them do their job. ER care was never her forte. But, this was Dylan, dammit, and they weren’t moving fast enough.

Handing her the bottle of alcohol, Jocelyn rushed around to Teague’s side and suctioned some of the pooling blood from his chest.

Teague glanced at Clint. “Hold his arms above his head.” Unscrewing the cap, she poured it on the open area in small increments. Dylan growled through his teeth, sweat pouring off his brow.

“You’re not getting out of our relationship this easy, McCall.”

He gave a gust of attempted laughter. She smiled, her eyes on the nanobots surrounding the device with minute accuracy. They peeled away one of the clamps, leaving the hinge hanging free. She glanced at his face.

“Keep focusing, McCall. You’re doing great.”

Dylan’s groans softened. She poured more alcohol into the wound, jolting him awake.

“Can’t get lazy on me. Your mind has a job to do.”

He spoke around the belt. “Shitty… bedside manner.”

Watching the nanobots work, Teague smiled as they removed another clamp. Two more to go.

“They’re amazing, Dylan. The accuracy is remarkable.”

The nanobots stopped in place. Teague glanced up. His eyes fluttered, then shut, thick copper lashes against colorless cheeks. He lay deathly still against the cold, tile floor.

She soaked the area with more alcohol. He awoke, his eyes blinking open.

“Don’t you dare leave me...”

Her body shook uncontrollably, her heart thrashing against her lungs. She couldn’t lose him. Not like this. How could God ask her to take another loss? Hadn’t she lost enough?

Jocelyn snatched up the packaged syringe at her side and removed the needle. She handed it to Clint. The nanobots’ movements slowed, their legs jolting, sporadic as they moved over the device and removed the third clamp.

“Can’t…”

Dylan’s face blurred before her eyes. She blamed it on the double vision.

She said, “Remember when I told you my unluckiest day ever was the day my father died?”

His heavy-lidded eyes stared up at her, the belt going lax in his mouth.

“That’s not true. It’s today.”

The nanobots picked up speed, but they still crawled at a slow pace. The last day or so with Dylan was the only time in her adult life that she hadn’t felt alone. She knew he would be there for her, no matter what happened.

But, that comfort lay on the floor beside her, near death.

She took his hand in hers. It didn’t pay to love someone. Losing them hurt too much. She was better off alone.

His heart slowed, the beats coming too far apart now.

“I love you, Dylan.”

The nanobots stopped. She looked at Clint. Holding the needle poised above Dylan’s chest, he gave her a brief nod. Taking hold of the last hinge, Teague unhooked it and flung aside the device. Clint stabbed the needle in his heart and released the drug.

Dylan’s heart pumped once, the stilled… before falling into a steady rhythm.

The air rushed out of her lungs, her hands shaking.

“You did it, Teague.” Jocelyn said, as a team of medical personnel rushed into the room.

They backed away from Dylan to give them room to work. Violent spasms shimmied through Teague, making her lightheaded. She squeezed her eyes shut.

“Are you okay?” Jocelyn clutched her arm in a tight grip.

The MS hug squeezed her diaphragm like a boa constrictor. She wrapped her arms around her middle. “I need… to sit.”

Jocelyn grabbed the desk chair and put it behind Teague. “Here you go.” Moving around to look in her face, Jocelyn said, “Are you having a panic attack?”

Shaking her head, Teague bent over and clutched her middle. She didn’t have time for this. She wanted to watch them work on Dylan.

“Why don’t I get a wheelchair and get you out of here?” Straightening, Jocelyn turned away.

“No.” She winced at the pain. “I want to stay here, in case Dylan needs me.”

Kneeling beside the chair, Jocelyn said, “You’re in no shape to help right now.”

Jocelyn’s statement hit her like a splash in the face.

The day she’d dreaded since her diagnosis had finally come. Her MS had interfered with her job.

What if Dylan had needed her now and she couldn’t be there for him? When she couldn’t work anymore, what would she have to live for?

She was on the verge of perfecting her DNA. She had to get it done before Dylan recovered. Leaving the compound without his interference would make things so much easier.

Leaving her heart behind would be the hard part.