Page 47 of Alien Mercenary's Wife
"Yeah." Mason shook her head. "But the reports said?—"
"Reports said I was a terrorist who got blown up by my own bombs," Eris finished dryly. "Funny how that works."
"They framed you," Hughes said. "Made it look like you'd gone rogue."
"Hard to testify when you're officially dead and labeled a terrorist," Eris winked.
"How'd you find her?" Mason asked, narrowing her eyes. "And where are you? That doesn't look like a human facility."
As Mason spoke, her gaze shifted past Reese's shoulder. Her words stopped, eyes widening as a tall, clearly non-human figurepassed the open doorway. The others leaned closer to their screens.
"Holy shit," Griffin whispered.
Mason's eyes narrowed. "That video. The alien woman with the machine gun on the shuttle ramp. That was something to do with you, wasn't it?" She looked directly at Reese. "Are you with aliens?"
Eris's grin widened. "Some aliens, some humans, all badass."
"Holy hell," Ryans breathed. "You're serious. You're actually with the little green men."
Reese thought about T'Raal… his body against hers, his lips, his arms around her all night. "He's not green," she said. "And he's definitelynotlittle."
"It's a long story," Eris said. "What matters is we're alive, we're protected, and we can help with the lawsuit."
"What lawsuit?" Mason's voice turned bitter, jaw clenching, scar whitening. "Lambert's dead. They got him two nights ago."
"How?" Reese managed.
"Stabbed three times in an alley behind his building," Mason said, voice rough with anger.
Reese blinked. Shit. Lambert had been scheduled to testify, and she'd arranged to meet him before the extraction. Relief hit her first… she'd been right to trust her gut. The meeting wouldn't have happened anyway. But then came the guilt and anger.
Another one dead. Another name on her list.
"Official report says he was robbed," Mason carried on. "His wallet and comm unit were missing. But that's bullshit. Lambert could barely walk fifty meters without his legs giving out. What the hell was he doing wandering around alleys at night? Man hadn't left his apartment after dark in months. I broke into his place to get his files, but someone had already been there. Trashed everything."
"They're getting bolder," Hughes sighed, rubbing between his eyes. "Or more desperate. Lambert was scheduled to testify next week about the neural pathway degradation. Had documentation going back years."
"Documentation that's now conveniently missing," Mason said. "Along with his files, medical records, everything."
Reese felt cold settle in her stomach. "How many of us are left?"
"Seven," Mason said. "Including you two."
Seven. Down from fifty-three. Forty-six of them systematically eliminated, made to look like accidents or suicides.
"The lawyers?" Reese asked.
"Pulling out," Hughes said bitterly. "Citing security concerns and lack of surviving witnesses. They're saying that since you were the primary plaintiff and you're officially dead, there's no case left to pursue. They're recommending we accept the revised settlement offer."
"Which is?"
"Enough to cover basic medical expenses for six months," Ryans said, his hands trembling as he spoke. "No admission of wrongdoing. No recall of defective units still in service."
"That's not even enough for my meds for a month," Williams spat. "They killed our friends and now they're offering pocket change?"
"Fucking insulting," Griffin growled, slamming his fist against something off-screen. "Thompson died screaming from neural feedback. Rivera can't remember her name half the time. And they think we'll just walk away?"
"They're hoping we'll die before we can spend it all anyway," Hughes added bitterly.
