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“They’re heading south, out of the city.” Striker sped through the early morning traffic.
“Your animal can tell directions?”
“No, dumbass, it can tell me what side of the vehicle the sun is on.”
“Oh yeah.” Mace ran a hand through his hair, his go-to reaction when he was tense.
“It’s also telling me that there are three men in the car. One is in the back with Friday and he has a gun pointed at her head.” He gripped the steering wheel tight enough to turn his knuckles white.
“Have you told the snake to hold back?”
“That’s another stupid question. I keep telling it to back off. To wait for me.”
“What’s it say?”
“It says it knows what it’s doing and I’m a screw-up for letting them take her in the first place.”
Mace barked out a short, sharp laugh. “Looks like your animal has just as much attitude as you do. Does Friday know the diamondback is with her?”
Striker glanced at his friend. “Not yet.”
…
Friday’s grand bid for freedom, such as it was, had ended. Her captors were taking her back to the Northern Territory, where she’d be killed, or else they’d remove the offending information from her head, wipe her memory of the past week, and put her to work in a lab. She wouldn’t remember Striker or his team. She wouldn’t remember her attempt to change her life. She’d just carry on, as she’d always done, working as a drone for CommTECH. If she lived.
“Where are you taking me?” Not that it mattered, but as usual, her mind needed to question everything.
The man facing her answered with a sneer. His wide shoulders were steady as he held the gun that pointed at her head. He sat with his back to the rear of the car, while Friday sat on the seat opposite, her back to the driver. Through the tinted rear window, she could see the lights of Monterrey disappearing into the distance. They were heading south, in the wrong direction for the airport.
“Aren’t you taking me to back to CommTECH? I thought you were Northern Territory Enforcement.”
“Do I look like a fucking cop?”
No. He looked like someone who’d seen the inside of a cell and liked what he’d found there.
“If you aren’t with Enforcement, who sent you?”
“What do you care? You’re alive, ain’t ya.”
“For how long?”
“Don’t care. I get paid to deliver you. What happens after ain’t none of my concern.”
“Quit talking to her.” The guy in the passenger seat turned around to glare at them. His eyes were dead, and the corner of his mouth was twisted by an ugly scar. “We don’t engage with the merchandise.”
The guy with the gun grunted.
“And you—” the scarred man stroked a finger down her cheek, making her cringe away from his touch. “One more word and I knock you out.” He laughed as he turned back around in his seat.
They were amused by her helplessness. She let her eyes drop to the floor. Striker would have knocked his teeth out for that laugh. But then, by now he would probably have killed everyone in the car and freed himself. Unfortunately, she wasn’t the smuggler. There was no extensive combat training in her background. No special powers in her mutated DNA. She closed her eyes tight as she remembered his shout when she was taken. His promise that he would come for her. She trusted him. She believed in him. Which meant she had to stay alive long enough for him to get to her. Maybe, just maybe, her life wouldn’t end after all.
Not yet, anyway.
A movement under the seat across from her caught her attention. She studied the shadows. Something definitely moved. Slowly, the shape came into the light, and her heart almost stopped dead.
Striker’s rattler had followed her.
Her gaze flew to the man who held a gun on her. He was oblivious to the danger beneath him, too busy smirking at his captive to notice anything else. She glanced back down at the snake, her palms sweating as she struggled to keep from hyperventilating. If her captor saw the snake, he’d shoot it. Her stomach lurched. What happened to the man if the snake died? She didn’t know, but feared the worst. How could they possibly live independently of each other now that they were fused together?
