Reversion (The Narrows of Time Series Book 3) (21 page)

“Untraceable?”

Starling nodded. “The control unit has the ability to send a terminate signal. Once received, the MBs would instantly deactivate themselves, rendering them inert. The subject would then pass them through the urinary tract, leaving no residual trace behind.”

Church stared at Alvarez. He looked dumbfounded.

“Then seventy-five percent is the max,” Alvarez said, holding the device over the prisoner’s left thigh. “I wonder if there are any cancer cells in his leg?”

“Stop! Stop! I’ll tell you what you want to know,” the bald insurgent said from his kneeling position behind the general.

Lucas studied the dirt, grime, and bug remains dotting the windshield of Rocket’s pickup, wondering how often Masago’s brother washed the mammoth truck. Then again, perhaps it wasn’t about failing to take care of a possession, but rather a result of living in the desert where dirt and dust are a constant problem. It wouldn’t make much sense to try to keep a vehicle clean, because the minute you took off after a wash, the truck would be dirty again.

He rolled his head to the right, looking at Kleezebee’s taped-off apartment building and the safety barricades protecting the property. He scratched the skin on his neck just underneath the collar of the Smart Skin Suit hidden under his clothes.

“You’re stalling,” Masago said in the driver’s seat next to him. “You need to make a decision. We can’t just sit here all day.”

Lucas used his right hand to spin the paracord bracelet around on his left wrist like a number wheel at a carnival. “I’m not sure it’s worth the effort.”

“It’ll only take a few minutes.”

“Look at the place. Nobody’s here.”

“How can you possibly know that without checking?”

“Simple logic.”

“We’re here already. What’s it going to hurt?”

A flash of memories danced in his mind. He pictured his earlier life with Drew in their humble, scorpion-riddled abode. His heart began to ache, wondering if going inside the apartment was going to make matters better or worse. “My brother and I spent a lot of time in there over the years. I’m not sure I can handle it.”

Masago put a hand on his shoulder and rubbed it gently. “I know it’s painful, but we need to finish what we started. We came all this way, so let’s go inside. Maybe it won’t be as painful as you think. Maybe there are clues to where you live now. We have to check.”

Lucas made fists, pressing them down on his bent knees. “Okay. But if we don’t find anything in the first ten minutes, we leave.”

“Whatever you need, baby,” she said, pulling Lucas in for an unexpected kiss.

He thought about pulling away, but he couldn’t, not after her tender, quivering lips met his for the first time. She gave him a series of short, tender pecks on the lips before full contact was made, adding more heat and pressure. She moaned as her tongue penetrated his mouth. It found the tip of his, circling and dancing in a playful way. Then, in an instant, she backed off and looked into his eyes, as if she were about to ask him a question.

“What?” he said. “Was I doing it wrong?”

“I’m here for you. Every step of the way. You know that, right?”

He nodded.

“If terrible things are about to happen like you say they are, then we might never get this chance again,” she said. “I’ve waited all my life and I don’t want to wait another minute.”

“Okay, but here? Right now? In broad daylight?” he said looking around, trying to get a handle on the moment. “What if someone sees us?”

She shrugged, grabbing his hands and tugging slightly. “I don’t care about anybody else. Only you.”

Something took control of his body, making him lean in close to the beautiful creature sitting beside him. Her eyes seemed to grip onto his as their minds became one, latching onto the same carnal thought. He wrapped his arms around her back, closing his eyes and kissing her with the passion of two lifetimes. The fingers on each of his hands spread out, allowing them to embrace the fullness of her soul. He could sense the strength of her sexual conviction invigorating his body. His breathing intensified and so did hers, pushing him further and further into the heat of the moment.

Her fingers played with the hair on the back of his head, then moved down across his shoulder blades, sending a charge across his body. The narrow line between logic and emotion was now a blur, allowing him to forget his troubles and his location. A flicker of logic crept into his mind, telling him to stop—there was work to be done—but his lust chased the fleeting thought into oblivion. He knew the twisted hands of fate were lurking around the next corner and this moment—this right here and now—might be his last chance to feel the warmth and passion of a beautiful young woman.

Her hands were trembling as they began to explore his body, squeezing and rubbing as they moved. She brought them around to the front of his pants and found his belt. She pushed the end of the belt back through the buckle and tugged it open, releasing its grip.

He arched his back, allowing her to pull the leather from the belt loops and toss it to the floor of the truck. Her fingers moved to his zipper, making easy work of the vertical sentry device as she pulled it south to grant herself access.

She put her hand inside his pants, reaching down to find his throbbing penis, which was trapped beneath the stretchy, gold-laced time-travel garment constricting his body. She broke their kiss but pulled away only an inch, mumbling a soft command into his mouth. “The suit needs to go.”

“Right!” he said, leaning back on the seat and racing out of his shirt, his shoes, his pants, and then the Smart Skin Suit, tossing all of them into a ball on the floorboard of the truck. He looked at Masago, expecting to see her naked as well, but she hadn’t removed a single item.

“What about you?” he asked, feeling a penetrating draft from the cool winter air outside working its way into the vehicle like a traveling fog. Her playful gaze, now fixated on his throbbing member, sent a shiver of embarrassment down his spine. He covered his penis with his hands.

She smiled. “I didn’t want to miss a single moment. Now it’s my turn.” She grabbed the lower edge of her top with both hands, pulling it up and over her head with a steady, even pace. The strands of her hair made a crackling noise when they let go of the material brushing past them.

Her bra was pink-colored with a fancy border of lace decorating the edges. Her breasts were ample and pushed together, forming a deep recess of cleavage that seemed to go on forever.

“Like what you see?” she asked.

He nodded quicker than he’d ever nodded before. His mouth ran dry, making it hard for him to swallow.

She smiled, putting her fingers on the front clasp. She unhooked it and pulled the bra open to reveal the fullness of her chest. Her areolas were larger than he expected and so were her erect nipples.

He put his hands out, wanting to caress them, but she stopped his advance. “I’m not finished yet.”

He yanked his hands back, pressing them into his lap.

She continued the gradual striptease, peeling off one article of clothing after another, tossing each onto the same pile growing on the floor.

The clock seemed to tick slower after each item was removed. It became difficult to contain himself. His Christmas present was unwrapping itself, revealing more beauty than he could’ve ever imagined. Every neuron in his brain was on fire, screaming at him to take her right then and there, but he managed to restrain himself and wait as she removed the last piece of clothing.

She tossed her panties aside then sat back in the seat, resting her back against the driver’s door, keeping her legs pressed together at the thigh. Her eyes never left Lucas’s, seemingly content to watch her own naked reflection in his lustful pupils.

Lucas surveyed the stunning creature laying before him, taking in the perfection of her femininity. He memorized the subtle contours of her muscular, toned physique. Each curve and slope of her body flowed magically into the next, revealing a captivating work of art. His heart was hammering at the walls of his chest, sending pulsating waves of thumps from his chest to his eardrums.

She put her arms back, laying them against the glass of the driver’s side window. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then opened her legs.

He didn’t hesitate, moving forward to position his trembling body over the top of hers. He lowered himself, aiming his fully erect penis just below the tiny heart-shaped mound of pubic hair. The tip of his penis touched her delicate opening, making his mind run wild with expectation.

She brought her hands down from the glass and wrapped them around the sides of his waist, pressing slightly against his back.

“Go slow,” she said in a soft but welcoming voice. “This is my first time.”

“I will,” he said, not thinking about the significance of her gift. His inner caveman was now in control, pushing decorum and logic aside.

She let go of his skin, putting her arms down to her side. “I love you, Lucas Ramsay.”

Randol Larson checked his watch for the third time in the past ten minutes as he entered the science lab. He shortened his stride, shuffling his feet through to the other side of the revolving doors. He let go of the door handle, angling his body forward to avoid getting smacked in the ass. It worked. His eyes found the security station twenty feet ahead, where Bruno Benner was standing behind the counter, watching his four-man team process a college-age couple through the full body scanner and metal detector.

Around the lobby, there were a half-dozen nonsecurity personnel milling about, but nobody was standing in line to check in at the security desk.

Larson increased his pace, wanting to be first.
They’d better let me through,
he thought, desperate to meet with Dr. Griffith Davies and have the swatch of material from the insurgent’s gold-laced uniform analyzed.

The day was winding down, leaving little time to get the results back to his brother-in-law, General Alvarez, and then inspect Ramsay’s antigravity experiment to determine if he could discover some sort of safety violation or other deficiency that would legally allow him to terminate the project. If not, he’d have to fabricate evidence to complete the task, as President Lathrop had blackmailed him to do.

Bruno met him with a smile from behind the check-in desk. “Welcome back, Counselor.”

“Are they here?”

Bruno stroked his neatly trimmed goatee with his fingers. “Yes, sir. Both Dr. Davies and Dr. Ramsay arrived for their shift fifteen minutes ago.”

“Are you going to let me through this time? Or are we going to have issues, again.”

“You’ve been cleared for entry.”

“That’s refreshing news.”

Bruno held out his hand. “Just need to check your briefcase.”

“Isn’t that what the scanning equipment is for?”

“Dr. Kleezebee wants all personal items hand-checked from here on out.”

“Why?”

“I’m not at liberty to say. Your briefcase, please.”

Larson gave him the case, trying to remember if he’d scrambled the numerical tumblers on the lock. He wasn’t sure.

Bruno put the satchel on the counter, then fiddled with the central clasp but the case didn’t open. “I need to check inside.”

Larson shook his head. “I’m not giving you my combination code. I don’t share that with anyone. Not even my lovely wife.”

Two additional security guards arrived seemingly out of nowhere and stood behind Bruno with their arms folded across their chest.

Larson had visited the science lab a dozen times before but didn’t recognize either of them. They looked like Russian mountain men: easily six-foot-five-inches tall and well over two hundred pounds each—Olympic wrestler-size. Their dark hair, Hulklike physiques, and prominent facial features looked similar. Perhaps they were brothers. He could feel the intensity of their gaze weighing him down, compressing the layers of his skin and bone together.

He cleared his throat, wondering if this was a planned maneuver, something put in place for his scheduled arrival. He wouldn’t put it past Kleezebee, not with their long history of heated exchanges in the president’s office.

“You guys twins?” he asked.

The men didn’t respond.

Bruno swung the case around. “I need you to open it.”

Larson hesitated, considering his options. There weren’t any, not if he wanted to get past the imposing security detail and their bigger-than-life attitudes. He adjusted the tumblers until the numerical code was in the correct sequence: nine-eight-seven-six. A second later, he opened the case, reset the tumblers to hide the code, then spun the case to face Bruno.

Bruno put his hand inside, but Larson couldn’t see what he was inspecting, not with the lid blocking his view. He studied the guards’ faces, waiting for the overweight man to respond with questions about the contents, primarily the piece of fabric. He didn’t. Instead, Bruno closed the attaché, spun it again, then slid it across the countertop to Larson.

“You’re all set,” he said with exactness, motioning to one of the towering guards. “Escort him back. Make sure he doesn’t get lost.”

Larson took the tote by the handle, fixed the tumblers, closed the case, and scrambled the locks again before dragging it off the desk. He made eye contact with the guard who had just walked around from behind the security station and stood next to him—only an inch away. Larson couldn’t help but stare at the man’s sprawling neck tattoo. The colorful artwork looked like a USA flag tearing a hole through his skin from underneath. The letters USMC where stenciled down the middle of the stars and stripes, horizontally, with the phrase BAND OF BROTHERS written above it. He checked the man’s uniform but didn’t see a nametag anywhere. Must be a new member of the team, he decided.

“Semper fi,” Larson said, hoping to break the ice with the former marine. The man only grunted through the corner of his thin-lipped mouth.

Larson pulled his shirt sleeve up to reveal his faded Marine Corps insignia. “Force Recon, Camp Pendleton. OO-RAH!”

“Force Recon is for pussies,” the man replied.