His two chief lieutenants filled him in on a shift in the government of the EU. The prime minister of Belgium had been assassinated. Military forces in Greece overturned their democratically elected government, installing a General as the titular head. Outbreaks had been reported in Italy, Canada, and Panama. Brazil had withdrawn fully from the health accords.
The world was continuing to go to hell in a handbasket.
Hatch slid inside and leaned against the wall. The pirate did that more and more, whether it was because he wanted to keep an eye on Dirk, be there as back up, or understand all the security protocols so he could circumvent them, Dirk wasn’t entirely sure. Likely all three.
“Any word from home office?” It was the question where he never wanted to hear an affirmative answer. The unit had been deployed as a favor, but upsets back home had shifted the government to a far more isolated entity, flirting with a final breakaway from the commonwealth.
Over time, Dirk had come to believe they’d been forgotten, and he’d given his team leave to make other arrangements if they wanted to return. None had gone. The only family they had was stationed at the compound, and they’d sworn allegiance to him. Dirk’s allegiance belonged to Valda.
If the world kept spinning toward more insurrection, he would have to build an army to keep her safe. These men were the first and last of his defensive measures beyond the four who loved her.
Fortunately, New Zealand seemed untouched by the stressors tearing apart the world. How much longer that would be true was anyone’s guess. No sooner did he dismiss them, than Dirk’s gaze tracked to the empty office next to and slightly above his own. Valda had rarely used it outside of meals and the occasional late night spent reading research—but it had put her right where he could watch her back and where she could look down through the fruit trees to the beach.
Only loneliness occupied it now.
“All signals are good.” Hatch spoke the moment they were alone. “The construct is forming around her.”
“Good.” It wasn’t. It was another demonstration of their failure to achieve mission objectives. “What’s wrong?”
The other man paused, but Dirk just waited. Hatch didn’t have to leave the Hexagon to find him in the office. There was no way Dirk would be late, so he wanted to talk. They had about five minutes. It would take three minutes to get down to the Hexagon.
“Fine.” Hatch exhaled. “I fucked up. Maybe I should just monitor the construct this time. Eliminate the need for ejection, and I can take care of her from—”
“No.” End of story. Folding his arms, Dirk spared a look at the clock, then at Hatch.
“You haven’t heard me—”
“I don’t need to.” As aggravating as the whole situation was… “Valda needs all of us. Even you, pirate. We are explorers using technology we barely understand to insert ourselves into her mind. We have no business being there, no matter what claim we have on her heart, except she needs us to get out of there. She needs all of us.”
“You’re not going to listen to me on this are you?” Wearing a wry expression, Hatch shook his head.
“No.” Every man in Valda’s life earned their own way into her affections. The brilliant mind, always working, barely noticed the people around her. Yet she’d seen each of them. She’d seen him. “Anything else?” He circled the desk to skim the reports. Three more minutes, and they needed to head for the lift.
“You’re an ass sometimes.” Grudging respect echoed within his tone. “I don’t want to fuck this up for us again. We were close.”
No, they hadn’t been. She’d pushed Dirk, and instead of keeping her at arm’s length as he had before, he’d folded. Dirk missed her like he missed an extension of himself. The science, the work she did, he’d never understood. The woman? He knew her. He saw her. He wanted her back, goddammit.
“We’ve been close before. We’ll be close again. The mission isn’t done until we bring her back.” The subjects on all the emailed messages fell into line with the sit rep briefing his men had given him. The world political situation continued to disintegrate, even as it spun onward. Time was leaving them behind. Governments usurped, others burned to ashes. What the hell would their world look like when it was all over?
“Has it occurred to you we might not make it?” The question raked through Dirk’s soul, and he pinned the other man with a stare. Andreas might be more outspoken with his doubts and questioning, but Hatch…Hatch bled because he blamed himself for her position in the first place.
“It’s not an option.” Straightening, he tapped his knuckles against the desktop. Discipline was the one strength they all had to rely on when they inserted. Valda had enough problems—she didn’t need theirs. “If you want out, the door is open.”
“Of course I don’t want fucking out.” Anger heated his voice and chased away the cloud of defeat. Dirk preferred a pissed off Hatch to a depressed one. The first was dangerous and always thinking. The latter? He was only a threat to himself.
“Good, then stow your crap, and let’s get down there. We need to know what we’re facing.” Dirk logged out of his screen and engaged the personal security protocols. He trusted his men, but keeping a backup plan provided for future alternatives.
“You’re an ass,” Hatch complained as he followed him into the lift.
Not arguing, Dirk placed his palm over the reader, then chose the Hexagon level. “When I need to be.”
Folding his arms, Hatch leaned against the back wall. “You’ll never give up, will you?”
“No.” Not as long as he lived. When he made a promise, he kept it.
The lift glided to a halt, and when the doors opened, Hatch took the lead. Apparently, his momentary crisis had been averted. “I found us some new toys…”
Of course he had. Hatch didn’t waste time once he’d decided.
Dirk wished he wouldn’t waste time on deciding.
ANDREAS
In his suite of rooms, Andreas stripped off the diagnostic tabs. His hands shook and his stomach revolted, but he ignored both as he stalked across the comfortable living room and into the near barren bedroom. His only concession to Valda’s more hedonistic tendencies was the huge bed in the center of the room. Preferring a space devoid of distractions, he’d slept on a mat on the floor before falling in love with Valda. She didn’t like sleeping on the floor…the beach, yes. The floor, no.
A ragged laugh tore out of his throat as he let the tabs fall where they may. When they inserted, they had to wear the ridiculous life suits to monitor their stats and their bodily functions. The suits clung, tore out hair, and generally left them raw. They were better than the alternative.
Peeling down the leggings, he ignored the sting of hair ripping from his legs and tossed them in the recycler. Someone else could clean them. In the bathroom, he cranked the water to ice cold and stepped underneath the freezing spray. The chill sliced through the grogginess, and flogged him to his soul.
Bracing his palms against the tile, he forced himself to stay under it until he went numb. Loss cut him inside, and tears streaked down his face. Every damn failure cost them more time. A part of him wanted to know when enough was enough, and the rest of him knew—it would never be enough.