Page 44 of Protector

“We know the identity of the man who took you from your apartment,” Welsh says quietly. “When they were both privates, he and your father served together. We’ve interviewed their old sergeant—they were close friends at the time.”

She sucks in a sharp breath—shock. Then she shakes her head. “Nothing more than coincidence. He’s not responsible for the vile acts of past acquaintances. You want me to believe—what? That my own fathersoldme to the Russians?”

“No. We believe he relied on an old friend, who then betrayed him for personal gain.” Welsh sits back in his chair, both palms resting on the desk, pen still between his fingers. “We have for some time been aware of rumblings within the belly of the government. Whispers, really. Seemingly unconnected disappearances, data breaches… Never enough to pinpoint any exact plans, nor the players. Not until you were taken, and General Thompson sent the only man capable of saving you from the Russians’ new favorite trick in gaining a female’s compliance.”

“I’m telling you, AX2 was as good a choice as any of the others,” she grits. “You’re staking a whole goddamn conspiracy theory on this… thisnonsense.”

“You and I both know it’s not nonsense. And so does General Thompson. But let’s entertain for a moment the idea that that’s all he knew. However he came about the information on what happens to a woman who falls into Russian hands, it took himthree daysfrom you were taken until he did something about it.”

“We had an argument,” she says, voice still icy, yet if AX2’s not mistaken, there’s a note of hesitance beneath the frost. “He was giving me space and would not have realized I was missing for a few days.”

“You know your father better than that, Dr. Thompson. Do you honestly think he would let his only daughter be without surveillance? He’s an old school alpha—very firm on those he sees as his responsibility, but absolutely devoted to their safety. It’s a quality that’s served him well on the battlefield and as he rose through the ranks. There is no scenario where he wouldn’t have known you were gone for three whole days.”

Officer Welsh tilts his head as he looks at her. “Once he popped on our radar, we traced back his comings and goings. Nothing at all amiss…exceptfrom the day he sent AX2 to extract you. The very first thing he did was drive to a warehouse by the river. We have him on speed cameras along the route, and it’s where he was pinged as logging into the satellite surveillance that let him track your abductors to the airfield and across the globe.

“Your father knew you were taken the moment it happened, Dr. Thompson. And he knew where you were supposed to be.”

TWENTY-ONE

AX2

The deep ache in their bond tells him she can’t dispute the logical conclusions the officer presents, but no emotional turmoil shows on her pale face as she stares at the beta.

After a long pause, she says, “There is one thing this hypothesis of yours seems to leave out. What possible reason would my own father have to kidnap me?”

“We aren’t quite sure,” Welsh admits. He nods at AX2. “But given the nature of your work, we can suspect.”

“That makes no sense. General Thompson is the commanding officer responsible for the AX project. He wouldn’t need me?—”

“Youarethe AX project, Dr. Thompson,” Welsh interrupts her. “If someone were to hijack it, they would need you. But again, we don’t know the general’s motivations.”

She huffs through her nose. “That’s the real reason for this meeting? You want me to spy on my own father? You’re taking quite the risk, sharing all this and banking on me not warning him.”

He gives her a small, measured smile. “There is always an element of risk to intelligence-gathering, to be sure. However, given that General Thompson saw it fit to have you kidnapped, we surmised he doesn’t trust you would agree with whatever his plans are. If push comes to shove, you’re likely to break on the side of your country, not your father. Especially when that father had you taken from your home with force. He may not have intended the outcome to be as grim as it was, but heisthe reason it happened.”

A muscle ticks in her jaw. She is silent for another long moment before she says, “I don’t believe you.”

The grief welling in their bond tells a different story.

Officer Welsh nods. “I can’t force you to. So long as you keep in mind that this conversation is, of course, classified, you will do with this information as you see fit, Dr. Thompson.”

She isquiet on their drive back to the general’s estate. He is too.

Primal concerns for her safety under her father’s roof nip at his brainstem like fleas, overlayed with looping thoughts of how the information Officer Welsh has shared with them fits together with the desperate man who ordered him to save his daughter, no matter the cost. It’s an irritating puzzle with far too many pieces missing, and truthfully, he doesn’t care. Scheming and political games mean nothing to him, but still, he mulls over every word shared in that room, trying to work out whether his mate is safer under her father’s protection, or far away from it.

His mate.

He closes his eyes for a moment—long enough to resist the urge to glance at her staring out the passenger-side window. His instincts to protect her he can do nothing about—they’re hardwired into both biological and artificial bone—but the softening at the center of his sternum whenever he sees that vulnerable look in her otherwise cold gaze?Thathe wants nothing to do with. Whatever betrayal she feels, whatever hurt and anguish, she’s earned every ounce of it, and more.

The long drivewayfrom the gates leading up to General Thompson’s estate is still dotted with uniformed men with weapons strapped over their shoulders. It feels less reassuring than it did upon their arrival last night.

When he parks the car by the front steps, the itching in his brainstem is nearly unbearable. Hands still clutching the steering wheel, he says, “We should stay somewhere else.”

She expels a breath by his side, almost as if she’s been waiting for him to break the silence. “There is nowhere else. He would know something was amiss if I left.”

Of course he would. It’s been less than twenty-four hours since he had his broken daughter returned.

AX2 finally turns to look at the dark-haired woman.Hiswoman. It still feels like a punch to the gut. The sun reflects off wisps of hair framing her face and turn her gray eyes almost silver behind her glasses. With a force of will, he pushes down the ridiculous urge to reach out a hand and smooth the strands from her cheek.Evil. She is evil.

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