Page 23 of Eden and her Mercenary
A flicker of movement caught my eye—a shadow detaching from between two parked cars behind Reeves. Dr. Harrison, moving silently toward him.
I needed to keep him talking. "What's so special about this dog anyway? Plenty of others to experiment on."
Reeves' expression hardened. "Subject Seven isn't just a test subject. She's the breakthrough. The first successful neural integration that allowed complete remote control without compromising cognitive function."
"You turned her into a weapon," I said, disgustedly.
"We enhanced her," Reeves corrected. "Imagine soldiers who could deploy canine units remotely, guiding them through hostile territory without risking human lives. Dogs that could be directed to search buildings, detect explosives, even engage targets—all from a safe distance."
Harrison was closer now, something clutched in her hand—a hypodermic needle. I kept my expression neutral, not wanting to alert Reeves to her presence.
"So you're doing this for the greater good?" I asked, injecting skepticism into my voice. "Forgive me if I don't believe the noble intentions speech from someone who thinks it’s okay to harm a dog."
Reeves' jaw tightened. "Believe what you want. The technology in Subject Seven's brain represents years of research and millions in investment. We're not letting that walk away."
"And what happens to Stella once you get her back?" Royal asked, subtly shifting his weight forward. I recognized the movement—he was preparing to lunge.
"Further testing," Reeves said coldly. "The integration needs refinement. Subject Seven's continued resistance to certain commands is... problematic."
Harrison was directly behind him now, needle poised. In one fluid motion, she plunged it into his neck, depressing the plunger before he could react.
Reeves spun around, gun swinging toward her. Royal moved instantly, crossing the distance and tackling him before he could fire. The gun skittered across the wet pavement as they crashed to the ground.
"Run!" Royal shouted, grappling with Reeves, who was already showing signs of disorientation from whatever Harrison had injected.
Ryker sprinted for the van, neural mapper clutched against his chest. I grabbed Harrison's arm, pulling her along with me as we followed.
"What did you give him?" I gasped as we ran.
"Sedative," she panted. "Won't last long."
Royal delivered a final blow to Reeves' jaw, then scrambled to his feet, snatching up the fallen gun before racing after us. Behind him, Reeves struggled to rise, movements sluggish but determined.
Ryker had the van started by the time we reached it, rear doors flung open. We piled in, Royal last, slamming the doors shut as Ryker floored the accelerator. The van lurched forward, tires spinning on the wet pavement before finding traction.
"You came back," I said to Harrison, who was slumped against the side of the van, breathing hard.
"Couldn't let you take all the credit," she replied with a shaky smile. "Besides, I've been complicit in this for too long. Time to make it right."
Royal was peering through the rear windows. "We've got company. Two SUVs, coming fast."
"Hold on," Ryker called from the driver's seat, taking a sharp turn that sent us sliding across the floor of the van.
I braced myself against the door, my heart pounding as we sped through the darkened streets of the industrial complex. The neural mapper's case had slid to the center of the van, and I lunged to secure it before it could be damaged.
I crawled to the front of the van, clinging to the passenger seat as Ryker executed another sharp turn.
"We need to lose them before we head to Dr. Chen's," I shouted over the engine's roar. "They can't know where we're taking Stella."
"Working on it," Ryker replied through gritted teeth, his knuckles white on the steering wheel as he navigated the rain-slicked streets. The windshield wipers fought a losing battle against the downpour, creating a hypnotic rhythm that matched my racing pulse.
Royal had positioned himself at the rear doors, Reeves' gun held ready. "They're gaining. Black SUV, same model that's been following you."
"Take the next right," Harrison urged, leaning forward between the seats. "There's a construction site—multiple exits, easy to lose them."
Ryker nodded, wrenching the wheel. The van tilted alarmingly as we skidded around the corner, tires finding purchase at the last possible moment.
"Declan, we need an alternative route to the MacGallan estate," Royal said into his earpiece. "We've got Junction Security on our tail."
