Page 18 of Protector

AX2 nods. His head feels light. They are allowing him control of his day?

Over his body?

“Good. We will be monitoring…” Dr. Green’s voice dies when the door behind them bangs open and General Thompson storms through it.

AX2 jerks once, as do the other soldiers, the sudden and aggressive arrival of another alpha sparking instincts not entirely hardwired into compliance.

“General Thompson,” Dr. Green begins, his brow furrowing as he catches the look on the other man’s face. His lips are pressed into a flat line, but his eyes are wide, their whites pronounced.

“You—AX2. With me,” General Thompson snaps, ignoring the doctor as he exits the dorm as swiftly as he entered.

AX2 obeys, his body moving before his mind has fully processed the scene.

General Thompson waits for him in the halls. His posture is staunch, spine arrow-straight and shoulders wide, but the energy emanating off him is jittery and aggressive, and it sparks against AX2’s nervous system.

“The Russians have Adelaide,” he says the second the door closes behind AX2.

AX2 blinks. “What?” The question is out of his mouth before his training kicks in. He braces for the sear of his chip, but the general is far too agitated to punish him for the slip.

“They kidnapped her. The commie bastards took my daughter right from under myfuckingnose. I’ve managed to locate her whereabouts—they’re holding her in a bunker in Eastern Siberia.” He pulls his fingers through his short hair and turns to AX2. “I need you to get her back.”

A roil of emotions heats his gut—confusion and dread most prominent. He is careful to keep his voice monotone when he says, “I have not been trained for search and rescue, sir.”

General Thompson rounds on him, his steel-gray eyes narrowing to a glare. “I don’t give a shit. If I take this through the proper channels, and if she’s…” He sucks in a sharp breath, jaw clenching around whatever he was about to say. “You’re the best I’ve got. And I am ordering you to rescue my daughter. Save her, no matter the cost.”

EIGHT

AX2

He is dropped in a barren, snow-covered wasteland on the Eurasian continent.Eastern Siberiais all the information he’s been given. Usually he has exact coordinates and detailed instructions of when, where, and how. Not this time.

Save her.This is the only command he’s been given, but there are precious few details on the opposition he will face.They’re in a bunker,he’s been told.Five-to-twenty men, likely heavily armed.

He pushes his frustration down as he jogs through the waist-high drifts, his weapon at the ready, hunched over to brace against the howling winds throwing blinding flurries into his face. None of it matters; he’s been given a mission, and he will see it through. His chip will make sure of it.

Even if he hopes he finds her dead.

He locatesthe bunker two hours in.

A shoddy-looking barbed wire fence surrounds the concrete structure only barely visible amid the rocky terrain. It blends in almost perfectly with the bumpy, white landscape, but he spots the singular guard by the entrance. A semi-automatic is in his hand, but his focus is scattered, likely from the biting cold.

AX2 has his knife at the guard’s throat before the man realizes he’s not alone in the freezing wilderness.

“How many?” he snarls, pressing the blade deeper when the soldier jumps.

“Der’mo!” the guard spits.

“How many?” AX2 repeats.

“Fifty. American pig.”

AX2 clasps a palm over the man’s mouth and slides his knife across his throat. The guard jerks once, a wet rattle escaping through AX2’s fingers before he slumps

The heavy steel door to the bunker is secured by a fingerprint scanner. AX2 yanks the dead soldier’s glove off and pushes his hand to the screen, waiting for the beep of the lock before he tosses the corpse aside.

There are eight men in the bunker, not fifty.

They are all armed, but they aren’t expecting a fight—and they certainly aren’t expectinghim.

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