Page 36 of Delta: Retribution

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Trace smiled through all the pushing and shoving that their captors dished out. Marlena’s stomach was in knots, and the only thing that kept her from sliding down a miserable, self-pitying slope was the fact that he seemed to enjoy the fighting much more than Screen on the Green.

She held her breath as Trace mopped the slowing trickle of blood on his face and baited the men. He was about a dozen yards away and unarmed, making light of their warehouse dungeon. As soon as their entourage had left campus, the abductors had given both of them a thorough pat down. So thorough that Trace threatened life and limb should their eager-beaver hands stray too far.

“Doing okay over there?” he asked.

She nodded, biting her lip. What other answer was she supposed to volunteer? They’d been gagged and tossed into the back of a windowless van. The entire time, as she tried not to hyperventilate, he’d studied the vehicle and the men. As soon as they arrived at a deserted warehouse park, they said they’d cut the gags off with knives the length of her forearm. Talk about overkill. Untying them would’ve done just fine, but nope, not for those guys.

They spoke in Spanish, and she didn’t recognize any of them from when she was abducted a few weeks ago. Was it a different organization wanting to use the technology that she’d created? Same group, different guys? Why had she ever thought that she could create a biological weapon—or at least the plans for it—and not ruin her life? Even if the project was still in beta testing and had serious kinks to work out, the potential was beyond comprehension.

Trace cleared his throat. “If it’s all the same to you guys, I’m going to walk over there and talk to my girl.” He didn’t wait for an answer as though they didn’t have guns everywhere.

A few guys muttered but ignored them. She wasn’t sure if that was a really bad thing. Either they didn’t care because they were going to kill them, or they had some manners, like the Romatar people.

He sat down on the floor next to her. “Not how I thought I’d see you gagged.”

Instant heat lit her cheeks. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe.” He knocked his shoulder into hers. “But you’re too important to hurt, and they haven’t figured out who I am.”

“And who are you?”

“The asshole who’s gonna kill everyone in this room if a hair on your head gets hurt.”

Somehow, she believed that. “Who do they think you are?”

“I don’t know. A picnic-going boyfriend? A douche who wanted to watch a chick flick in the grass?”

She laughed quietly. “You’re a freakin’ trip.”

“And you’re VIP to a lot of people.” He leaned back against the wall. “We, Delta—or any ops team, for that matter—only ask questions on a need-to-know basis. When Titan sent Delta to bring you home, we did it. That was the contract, and it was done. I never asked why. Never needed to know.” He tilted his head. “Things have changed.”

“You want to know what they want to know?”

“Yup.”

“And that will help us?”

“Maybe.”

“Why?”

His eyes narrowed. “Because then I know if they’ll really kill for what you know and to what extremes they’ll go through to keep you alive. Right now, they think I’m some gun-totin’ boyfriend who walks around yelling ‘’Merica’ and punching strangers.”

“Then what are you? Because we’ve glossed over that a few times.”

“SEAL for life. Delta right now. I’m a contract killer for the good guys. An assassin when needed. A fucking machine. Other than that, I’m a guy trapped with a girl who has made him question everything. That about explains me.”

“Oh, that’s all, huh?”

“I like that you’re scared to death and sarcastic to boot.”

She smiled. “None of that sounds like a lost cause to me.”

He leaned forward, hanging his head and staring at her with empty eyes. “I never really left the war zone.”

“Because of your brother?”

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