make their badges look legitimate. There was no reason for anyone to stop them, to question them. Unless they blew it.
All it would take was one false step and it would be over for both of them. If they were discovered, they had their instructions. No surrender. No interrogation. Period.
Boone had been a soldier for a long time and the possibility of death came with the territory. Only now, for the first time in his life, he cared. One hell of a lot.
He didn’t want to leave Christie. The thought of never seeing her again made him gut sick. He’d only just found her. In a goddamn crummy way, that’s for sure, but he figured that had helped them get closer.
Months earlier she’d been stalked to the point of abandoning her home and any life she’d known. At Nate’s request, Boone had gone to help. He’d fallen for her hard, even though he didn’t want her to be involved in this Omicron mess. It had thrown both of them when they’d discovered the stalker was actually an Omicron agent, looking for Nate. She’d been targeted, just like the rest of them. So they’d joined forces, and he’d never have guessed how it could change his life.
The irony wasn’t lost on him. He thought often about the Dickens’ quote, “It was the best of times…” Being with Christie was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Being a fugitive because of Omicron’s lies was the worst.
Tonight, he and Seth were going to be risking more than on any other foray. They were going inside, to map out the plant as thoroughly as possible. Although they hadn’t figured out what, exactly, they were going to do with the information, it was important to know what they were up against.
So they walked inside the cavernous room, filled with production lines and heavy machinery. This wasn’t where they made the deadly gas. It was where they made the canisters. On the surface, an innocuous enough task for the employee.
Walking quickly down one side of the long building, Boone estimated there were around seventy people in this room alone. He’d seen the parking lot, but he’d underestimated the number of employees who were bused here from Vegas and Mesquite.
The number of people who dealt directly with the gas would be small in comparison. For all Boone knew, they only did the most dangerous work on the day shift in another part of the factory. They’d have to keep exploring if they wanted to know for sure.
He looked ahead at Seth, who he knew was memorizing the layout for the moment they were free. Seth’s prosthetic hand was in his coverall pocket. He’d lost his hand in an earlier skirmish with Omicron, but Harper had saved his life. And there was more going on there. Boone grinned.
Seth led him past a large break room. There were rows of tables and benches and the walls were lined with vending machines. Two big refrigerators were in the back, along with a row of microwaves.
Next, they went past a locker room, and it was crowded. Men and women were stowing lunches or purses into their lockers, and he saw a number of them putting on hairnets. Like most workplaces, there was a smattering of laughter and a lot of talk. No one took notice of him or Seth.
Finally, they reached a door that held promise. A woman walked in, using a keycard. He only caught a glimpse, but it was enough to make him curse. There was a biometric hand scanner inside, one that read fingerprints. How the hell were they going to get past that device?
He moved on, following the wall until he got to the back door. A loud alarm rang, and his heart pounded until he realized it was just the work horn. The graveyard shift had officially started.
He pushed open the door and found Seth waiting. They headed toward building two where they’d find a bathroom, lock themselves inside stalls and diagram the production line. Then they’d go through the whole exercise again, until just before dawn.
One more time, they’d race across the desert until they reached the hole in the fence. One more time, Boone would pray they wouldn’t be spotted by the security guards in the air, in the jeeps, monitoring the surveillance cameras. All he had to do was keep his eye on the goal. A lifetime with Christie where they didn’t have to hide. Where they didn’t have to be scared. Where they could finally be free.
SHE WANTED TO SLEEP FOREVER, but Tam forced herself to sit on the edge of the bed as she waited for Nate. The bath would take more energy than she had, but more than anything she needed to wash away the remnants that clung to her skin, her hair, and under her nails from what had happened tonight.
The sound of water filling the tub lulled her even closer to sleep, and she jerked up, almost falling over.
Nate walked out of the bathroom, his jacket off, his blue chambray shirtsleeves rolled above his elbows. He smiled so warmly, she managed a smile back. She only wished she could stop shaking.
“It’s ready.”
She nodded as she stood, then looked back at the bedspread. She expected to see more ash and dirt on the clean white comforter, but it wasn’t too bad. Just a couple of smudges.
“You okay?”
He stood right next to her and she leaned against him as she’d done in the car. “I’m so tired.”
“That’s shock. I’m worried that you’re going to fall asleep in the tub.”
She yawned, not even covering her mouth. Her mother would have scolded her for that, although not until they were in private. “I probably will.”
He put his hand on her waist, gripping strongly. “Maybe we should skip it. Or put you in the shower.”
“No. Just come with me. If I start to drown, pull me up by the hair.”
He didn’t answer, and his hand tightened further on her waist. She should look at him, see what was going on, but screw it. She had to get clean. As tired as she was, sleeping in her own filth held no appeal. The very idea made her skin crawl. “Come on. Let’s do it.”
He helped her into the large bathroom, and for a moment she felt disoriented. The white tile, the white towels. Everything was clean and bright. This was the real world. The kind of place she’d dreamed about in her long stay underground.
He guided her over to the commode and after he put the seat down, he seated her. “We have to get these off,” he said. His voice sounded strange, or maybe it was her ears. She wouldn’t trust anything tonight.
He lifted her arms and pulled the T-shirt over her head. She felt no embarrassment being in her bra. Or out of it. Being naked was the least of her problems. If it had been anyone else, she probably would have been more concerned, but it was Nate, and his hands were so big and so gentle. He removed her clothes as if she were a child. Lifting one foot, then the other to take off her shoes. He stood her up to get her jeans off. Smart man, he took her panties along with them.
When he had her in the buff, he walked her over to the tub and held on to her as she got in the hot water. It took a minute for her to adjust to the temperature, but he was patient. Quiet, too. Inch by inch she lay down, letting the warmth seep deep into her bones.
When she was up to her neck in water, she looked up at Nate. He wasn’t smiling, in fact, his lips were pressed so tightly together they were white. She would have asked him what was wrong, but her head went back and her eyes shut as she tried to let the horrors of the night go…for now.
She felt him sit on the edge of the tub, and she giggled with the thought that he was the best bath toy ever. Rubber ducks included. She must be losing it.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.”
“Okay. Uh, you want me to put some soap on the washcloth for you?”
“Sure, why not?”
He reached over her and grabbed the bar of hotel soap and then he dipped the cloth in the water. “I’ll bet you’re a real fun drunk.”
“I wouldn’t know,” she said. “I’ve never been drunk.”
“Never?