TimeSlip (6 page)

Inch by inch, they made their way along the darkened
hallway, checking each room as they went. Upstairs, they heard a shrill scream,
a woman’s scream. When Strom made for the stairs, Jake blocked his path. “Not
like this. You’re too emotionally involved. We’ll take them. You get Ingrid.”

Strom nodded, Jake was right.

Jake took point, making his way silently up the carpeted
stairs, keeping his back to the wall. There were no guards. The landing was
empty. The bedroom doors were open and Jake checked each one swiftly, trying to
ignore the sobs coming from the room at the end of the hall. They couldn’t
afford any surprises. He gave the all clear signal to the others. God help them
now.

Strom burst through the wooden door as if it was made of
cardboard. His eyes scanned the room quickly. No Raoul. Jorge had a knife in
one hand. He had cut her face, Ingrid’s beautiful face. Then Strom saw red.

He didn’t bother using a weapon. That would have been too
quick. He wanted to kill Jorge with his bare hands. Strom’s fists pounded into
his face, his ribs and his chest. Anywhere he could inflict pain. Jorge tried
in vain to slash Strom with the knife, but Strom barely felt a scratch. His
hands circled Jorge’s throat, watching with grim satisfaction as the
Cyraelian’s skin slowly turned purple and his eyes bugged out. Jorge made a
choking sound, gasping for breath. In the end, throttling him wasn’t good
enough. Strom wanted to rip his head off.

Jake and Pete had to pull him away. “He’s dead, Strom. Come
on now, leave him, we have to help Ingrid.”

They had broken both of her arms, his precious Ingrid. Her
blue dress was torn where Jorge had cut her with his blade, and her face. Her
pretty face was a mess. This was his fault. She didn’t deserve any of this.

Ingrid’s left eyelid fluttered open. The other one was
sealed shut with blood. “Strom, I didn’t tell them,” she whispered. “I didn’t
tell them anything.” Her eye closed as she lapsed into unconsciousness.

Jake bent over her. “Strom, we have to get her to a hospital
quickly! She probably has internal injuries.”

“No hospital, Ingrid is coming back with me.”

“Strom, are you crazy!” Pete shouted. “You could be
court-martialed for that.”

“I don’t give a fuck. Give me your com unit, Jake.” Jake unpinned
his badge and fastened it on Ingrid’s bloodied dress.

Strom lifted her unconscious body into his arms. “Central
Com, this is Captain Strom Hallstrom, two to return. Lieutenant Svenson is
injured. Transport us direct to Med Unit One.”

Ingrid’s long dark hair trailed gently in the stasis gel, it
seemed to have a life of its own. She looked like an angel, a floating angel.
Or perhaps she looked like a mermaid, except for her legs. He was growing
fanciful. He hadn’t slept in thirty-six hours. Not since he’d brought her back.
The doc had kept Ingrid sedated the whole time. There had been a lot of
whispered conversations around him and he knew that he was in trouble. He had
broken the primary rule that everyone learned at the Academy, the prime
directive that was drummed into every cadet on their first day. Don’t bring a
civilian home with you, no matter what, and he had smashed right through it.

Strom dropped his head into his hands. The doc said that
back in her own time, Ingrid could have died. They had been sent to save her
from Raoul, but instead she had saved him and the others. He had broken every
one of his own rules since he met her—never let anything interfere with the
mission, never let anyone get under his skin, never fall in love. Now Ingrid had
paid the price.

The door opened. His dad had arrived with Leona. Strom knew
that his actions could affect them too. His dad was a wily old devil who had
been through more than his fair share of skirmishes, both on and off-world. He
would survive. He wasn’t too sure about Leona. She was in charge of the
mission. What a nice little family mess he had made. His father’s hand pressed
lightly on his shoulder.

“You get some rest, son. I’ll sit with her for a while.”

Strom slept for sixteen hours straight. When he woke,
Ingrid’s scars were gone. Even the laser knife burns. The doc had offered to
wipe her short-term memory, but that meant she would forget him too and he
didn’t want that. He knew she wouldn’t either.

Leona called a meeting the next day. Ingrid was better,
physically anyway. He wasn’t going to be court-martialed, but he was severely
reprimanded and it would appear on his permanent record. After kicking his
heels in debriefing for a few days, Strom was ordered to take Ingrid back and
complete the mission. It was too far advanced to risk a change of personnel
now.

He had confessed that he had stolen Jake’s com badge to
bring Ingrid back with him. Hopefully, when this was over they wouldn’t go too
hard on the others. As for him, he and Raoul had a date that he was really
looking forward to and Raoul was going to pay for everything he had put her
through.

All of the secret thoughts he had entertained about Ingrid
were completely out of the question. He knew that now. Ingrid couldn’t stay in
his world and how could he live in hers? There was hardly an inch of him that
wasn’t tech-enhanced. He was a walking, talking, million-credit military
investment that Fleet Command wouldn’t give up without a fight. How long would
they have together before the Department of Temporal Security sent someone
after him? A temporal extraction team that would drag him back to his own time
and wipe his memories of her? He felt a sudden stab of pain. They would take
him, but what would they do to Ingrid? He couldn’t let that happen.

He had been sent to save her and stop Raoul, but their
intervention in her life had almost killed her. He had asked Ingrid to trust
him, but in the end he hadn’t managed to protect her. His own wife—and he had
let them hurt her and that bastard Raoul was still free. The taste of failure
was bitter in his mouth.

The other women he had known paled into insignificance
beside her. His sweet, brave, beautiful Ingrid. What cruel twist of fate could
allow two people to fall in love and then put five hundred years between them?
This whole thing was impossible. He had to face it. He was no good for Ingrid.
They could have no future together. As soon as this mission was over, he was
out of her life for good, or he would end up hurting her more than he already
had.

Chapter Five

Ingrid woke up in her bedroom with a thumping headache. The
blue bedside clock, vaporized by Strom, had been replaced by a singing chicken
alarm clock. Someone was really trying to piss her off, probably Finn. That was
her first task. When she was vertical again, she was going to kill Finn.

Bearing in mind that it was eight p.m., the apartment was
eerily quiet. She tried to lift her head from the pillow and found that she
couldn’t. The memories hit her like blows from a hammer—Barbara’s dead body,
Raoul’s fist as he struck her and the smell of burning flesh. Then she
screamed.

They surrounded the bed in less than thirty seconds. Four
gorgeous guys, all looking as if they cared about her. Finn was crying, and
even Pete, the shyest of them, kissed her on the cheek and welcomed her home.
Strom hung back until the others left.

“What happened to me? I was…”

“Shhh.” The viking stroked her face.

“I thought I told you not to Shhh me.”

The viking managed a weak smile. “I’ll leave you to get some
rest.”

“No,” she protested. “I don’t want to be alone. Please,
Strom.”

A flicker of indecision crossed his face and she thought he
was going to leave. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and kicked off his
shoes. She felt his weight on the bed beside her and his arm crept around her
and he pulled her against him.

“Oh, Ingrid,” he sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”

She suppressed the desire to giggle at the sheer irony of
it. She had finally got the viking into bed with her and she hadn’t the energy
to do anything about it.

When she woke up, it was still dark and the viking was lying
beside her. Not under the quilt with her, that would have been too much to hope
for, but at least he was still lying on her bed.

“Are you in pain, Ingrid?”

“No,” she whispered, “I’m just a little bit cold.”

Heaving a deep sigh, Strom rolled onto his side and gathered
her into his arms again. Ingrid snuggled against him. “Won’t you get cold out
there?”

She heard a low rumble of laughter. “I’m a soldier, Ingrid.
I’m used to sleeping on rough terrain.”

“But you’re not on duty now and it’s the middle of the
night. Please…”

He rolled away from her and Ingrid heard the soft thud of a
shirt hitting the floor and the erotic hiss of a zipper. She was suddenly
feeling a whole lot better. The viking slid between the sheets and she was
startled by the heat of him. He was like a one-man furnace. He curved his arm
around her and pulled her against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat
against her cheek, slow and steady.

“Strom, I remember about the museum, but…”

“Ingrid, not tonight. I promise we’ll talk tomorrow.”

He was still there when she woke. The sun was trying to
fight its way through the clouds and she caught the scent of coffee wafting
from the kitchen. She wriggled back into his arms, sighing happily.

“Your hair tickles me,” he grumbled. She could feel Strom’s
hand trying to smooth her unruly curls away from his face.

“And you take up more than half the bed.”

His fingers raked through her hair, curling tendrils around
his fingers and letting them go. “I could always find another bed if you want,”
he offered.

Ingrid rested her chin on his chest as she gazed up at him.
“Or some rough terrain. Try the Phoenix Park. It’s not far from here and I’m
sure the wild deer would be more than happy to share with you.”

Strom’s eyes darkened with a faint hint of longing. “I think
I’d rather share with you.”

Ingrid’s tongue flicked out and she licked her lips
nervously.
Was he saying what she thought he was saying?
She inched
closer, staring at his mouth, desperately wanting to kiss him.

The bedroom door opened and Finn appeared, carrying a
breakfast tray, setting it down with a clatter on her bedside table. “All your
favorites, Ingrid—one large latte with chocolate sprinkles, fresh croissants
and apricot preserve. Nothing but the best for my girl.”

The bedroom door closed again. The viking was gone, taking
his clothes with him.

When he reappeared, Strom was clean-shaven and his hair was
damp. He didn’t lie on the bed this time, but pulled up a chair and stayed a
respectful distance away from her.

“We have to talk about what happened at David’s house.”

Ingrid nodded. She had been trying not to think about that.
She’d had some very strange dreams. Something about swimming and doctors and
bright lights, but it was all mixed up and seemed to have happened a very long
time ago, not just the day before yesterday.

“When we got to David’s house, they carried me upstairs.
Barbara was there, and she was… S-s-she was dead. And then Raoul came.” She
could feel a tear sliding down her face and she brushed it away impatiently.
Ingrid couldn’t look at Strom’s face, so she stared instead at Finn’s
ridiculous alarm clock. “He kept asking me about the team and who they reported
to and where you were, but I wouldn’t tell him.”

She stole a look in Strom’s direction. His hands were
clenched in his lap and his knuckles were white. She had to get this over with.
“Then he came back with the other man.” Her voice began to shake and she took a
deep breath. “I was so scared when I heard them coming up the stairs that I
started to laugh. They must have thought I was crazy. The other man had some
kind of knife and it burned and I…”

Ingrid heard a crash as the chair fell to the floor and then
she was in his arms and he was kissing her face.

“I’m sorry, Ingrid, I’m so sorry. All of this is my fault. I
should have gone with you. I shouldn’t have let you out of my sight for an
instant.”

“Don’t blame yourself. It’s my fault too. I shouldn’t have
gone looking for David.” She kissed him, a slow sweet embrace, and he responded
in kind, with long, deep kisses that almost made her forget.

She settled into his arms again. “What happened afterward? I
know that I didn’t go to the hospital, but my arm and the—”

“I took you back to the future.”

“You what?” Ingrid struggled to sit up, but Strom pulled her
back down again.

“We’ve been gone for a week. You gave the docs in Med Unit
One quite a surprise. They were expecting Jake and they had to put an emergency
contagion field around the entire unit to protect everyone from all those
twenty-first-century bugs that you carry.”

“I do not carry bugs,” she protested, slapping him
halfheartedly. She didn’t have the strength to inflict a decent blow.

“Oh yes, you do,” he said, rolling away from her flailing
hands. “Do you know how many sessions of immuno-therapy we had to have before
coming here? You’ll probably keep the contagion research unit busy for a year.”

His smile faded and his eyes grew serious once again. “It’s
not over yet. You know that, don’t you?”

Ingrid nodded.

“We have to drag Raoul out into the open and take him back
where he belongs.”

She didn’t want to think about that. David and Barbara were
still lying dead in their house and Raoul had to be caught. But when the
mission was over, there would be no reason for Strom and the others to stay
here. They would have to go back to their own time and she didn’t know how she
would cope with that.

“What do you want me to do?” she asked nervously.

“Tomorrow, we need you to go to the police.”

The interview room at the police station wasn’t like the
ones on TV. It didn’t have two-way mirror or anything fancy like that. The
elderly sergeant produced an ancient tape recorder and he invited Ingrid to
give her name and address before she made her statement. Ingrid had brought her
thesis and photographs of the fake artifacts along with her, but that only
seemed to confuse him.