Page 78 of Command and Control: GHOST Operative

JULIEANNE

I DON'T KNOW how long I've been here. It could be minutes. It could be hours. Hell, it might even be days at this point. My brain is struggling to keep track of anything besides the never-ending pain radiating from nearly every inch of my battered body.

I knew this was coming, I’m not stupid. Amos made it pretty clear he wasn’t above using violence to get me to talk, and he’s made good on that promise. But it doesn’t matter what he does. He’s not getting shit out of me.

"Such a stubborn fucking bitch." Amos grips my hair, yanking a decent amount out of my scalp as he twists my head upright. "Makes me wonder who else you've sold this to." The smile he gives me is pure evil. "I can only imagine what they’ll do to you when they find out it doesn’t work." His lips flatten. “Unless you sold them the one that works.”

These assholes think I've sold the program to someone else. That I purposely took their money and gave them a faulty version. And maybe that is what happened. I'm justnot the one who did it. But I will protect the person I suspect did with my life. If I die today but my son stays safe, it'll be worth it.

But Vincent.

Vincent won't get over this loss. He won't come back from it. And that hurts worse than what they’re doing to me.

Amos snarls as the hand in my hair tightens. "Don't be fucking stupid." He leans in, hot breath on my face. "If you don't give us the program, you die today. If you do, you’ll have a little more time while Vincent tries to protect you so he can get his own hands on it." His free hand comes to my swollen face, pinching my cheeks in his grip as my busted lips distort. "Because I can promise you that’s all he wants you for."

He's wrong. I know he is. Vincent is coming for me. But it would be nice if he hurried the fuck up.

It takes everything I have to scrounge up enough saliva to spit in Amos’s face. Not necessarily for me, but for Vincent. He trusted this man. Even if he wouldn't admit it, Vincent likely considered him something like a friend. And this motherfucker took advantage of it.

And for that, I hope my saliva is the least of what flies at his head.

I don't even flinch when the hand gripping my face pulls away and swings, open palm connecting with the side of my head hard enough to stun me and send the chair I’m in tipping to the side. The hit was so hard I can't brace myself or choreograph my fall in any way. All I can do is watch as the floor comes closer. The side of my head bounces against the filthy concrete floor in a sickening thud,making me see stars.

"Get her up." Clark is even more angry than Amos is. Apparently he thought he'd be able to get what he wanted from me easily, and the fact that I'm being difficult puts his pasty panties in a bunch. "I don't care what it takes, get it out of her. Find out who else she sold it to while you're at it, so we can take them out too. I want exclusive control of the program."

My foggy brain is slow putting Clark's words together, but when they finally fall into place, I laugh, the motion making my face hurt worse.

Clark might have assembled some relatively intelligent techies, and he might have managed to pay Amos enough—and promised him enough power—to get him to make really bad decisions. But Clark is too fucking full of himself to realize how badly he's fucked up. He and Amos don't care about anyone but themselves, which is why they can't fathom how much Vincent cares about me.

Possibly loves me.

And that means they won't see it coming when he slaughters them all. Hopefully I’ll get to witness it.

Amos steps toward me, my view of him hazy as he reaches to grab me so they can prop me up and continue trying to get what they want out of me. I don't have the energy to attempt to roll away. Honestly, I'm not sure I would even if I could. As long as they're focused on me, they don't know who really made the program.

"What the fuck was that?" Clark takes a step back, his attention somewhere behind me.

I blink, rolling my eyes around behind my lids as I try to find clarity, and open them just as he takes another step back, this one a little jerkier. He must trip on something, because he falls, going down with a heavy thud. I smirkagain, because he's gonna shit himself over that fancy suit getting all dirty from the crap all over this floor. They could've at least brought me someplace clean to torture me.

Whatever head injury I have seems to have replaced fear with amused delirium, because when Amos makes a weird sort of startled squawk, I laugh. But then he takes a stumbling step and falls down too, only he goes down right beside me, his face not far from mine.

I must be reaching the point of hallucinations, because it looks like there's a hole in his forehead. My brain’s taking my hope of something worse than spit flying at his head and running with it, dreaming up a beautiful scenario where Amos is dead and bleeding on the concrete beside me. It's so nice to see, I don't even care when his blood pools my way, creeping closer.

What’s a little more blood at this point? At least it’s not mine this time.

I watch as it continues to ooze across the floor, a little impressed with how realistic it seems. My mind must not be nearly as mushy as I thought. Especially since I can almost smell the irony tang. That’s what ends up grossing me out and motivates me to try rolling away, attempting to put some distance between me and hallucination dead Amos.

Everything seems so loud as I worm my way backward, moving at the same relative pace as the nonexistent blood I've decided I don't want to wear, even imaginarily.

The noise inside my head gets louder as movement shifts around the hazy edges of my consciousness. I'm pretty sure I'm awake. Not necessarily coherent, but I don't think I'm unconscious.

Oh God. What if I'm dead?

I don't know if I'm relieved or devastated by the possibility. If I'm dead, then this is all over. But Vincent's going to be so sad. He finally let himself love someone and then I had to go and die too. I wanted to live, just didn't have a choice. I couldn't let them find out Holden is the one they wanted.

Tears slide free, burning my abraded skin as they fall. Hopefully Vincent can protect him now. Hopefully Vincent figures all this out and keeps my son safe.

A strong hand grips my shoulder, tipping me away from Amos and his imaginary blood. A scowling face looms over me, and I suck in a sharp breath. Oh no. I reach up, trying to grab at the man in front of me. "Are you dead too?"

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