Page 103 of Shared Omega

“I have a plan,” I answer. Then I call to Kane and Truk in the back, “Here’s how we’re going to do this. You two Alphas are our prisoners. Just keep quiet back there and let me do the talking. But when I open the rear hatch, be ready.”

I drive the vehicle around to the rear of the facility and pull into the utility garage in the back like I own the place. It is spacious and brightly lit, with some random pyramids of metal crates stacked by the walls. A pair of security officers are on duty, relaxing by the door and smoking cigarettes. When they see us arrive, they look a little surprised.

When they see me step out, however, their surprise turns to outright shock.

Almost in perfect unison, they drop their cigarette butts, and their hands dip to the guns at their hips.

“Easy guys,” I say nonchalantly, raising my hands palms out. “Me and the lady are with SynerGen’s private corps.”

Sloane has slipped out of the passenger seat. The security officer’s eyes turn toward my mate, and I struggle to suppress the surge of violent jealousy at the way their eyes bug out. In my mind’s eye, I briefly fantasize about gouging those eyeballs out with my thumbs.

But I maintain a cool exterior. I pluck the dog tags hanging around my neck and give them a friendly jangle.

“See. We’re marines.”

The nearest guard squints at my tags, then raises his eyes and squints at my face. He and his buddy exchange a perplexed glance.

“We’ll need to perform a retinal scan for ID.”

“Of course.”

As the guards retrieve the scanner, I cut my eyes toward Sloane and we pass an almost psychic understanding of what comes next. We need to be ready to act at a moment’s notice if shit goes sideways.

While one of the guards waits in the background, palm still resting on the handle of his gun and eyes still resting on Sloane’s chest, the other one steps forward with the scanner—a handheld device not much bigger than a phone.

He scans me first and then inspects the results.

“Dog?” He mutters. “That’s seriously your name?”

“Codename,” I reply, trying my best to hide my annoyance. “You gonna check the lady?”

“Right.”

He steps over toward Sloane and licks his lips as he looks her up and down. She wiped away most of the dried blood, but some of the red nicks and scratches are still showing.

“Y-you okay, Miss?” he stutters. “Looks like it’s been a rough night, huh?”

He gives Sloane his best smile. She just rubs her nose with her knuckle, a tough gesture reminiscent of a prize fighter.

“I’ll live.”

The guard nods and raises the scanner to check Sloane’s lovely blue eyes. He checks the readout. When it takes longer than expected, my muscles begin to tense in preparation.

“Shit,” the guard half whispers. “Lance Corporal Sloane? It lists your status as M.I.A. in the Quarantine Zone.”

“That obviously needs to be updated, doesn’t it?” Sloane says coolly.

Even though he’s a good foot taller than her, the security guard damn near withers underneath Sloane’s tough, blue gaze.

“Yeah, I suppose so.” He glances back toward his companion, who shrugs, then turns toward me again. “Look, I’m sorry but you need special clearance to get in this way. I’d better call up the colonel and let him know you’re here.”

His hand goes for the comm device on his belt.

“Hang on,” I say, keeping my voice level. “We’ve brought some sensitive cargo back with us, soldier. You’d better have a look so you can let the colonel know about that too. You know, so you don’t have to annoy him with an extra message.”

Beads of sweat have popped out along the guard’s upper lip. He’s nervous as hell. I give him a friendly smile.

“Y-yeah, right,” he chokes out. “Good idea. Let’s have a look.”