Red Zone (Red Zone 1)

Epilogue

It took two months to organize the covert trip to New Zealand’s research facility, where Friday’s data chips were removed, something that made her incredibly relieved.

“You ready for this, bébé?” Striker wrapped an arm around her shoulder as she stood staring at the monitors Hunter had set up in the main cavern. Now that they were back in the Red Zone, it was time to see exactly what was stored on her chip.

“Absolutely.” She kissed his throat because, even though he didn’t show it, she knew he worried about her. “I want to know what we’re dealing with.”

“That’s my girl.” He tipped her face up to kiss her lips.

She would never get used to his kisses. They were like chocolate, diamonds, sunsets, and silk all wrapped up into one. They were priceless.

“Will you two give it a rest,” Mace complained. “You make me want to vomit.”

“Have at it.” Striker grinned at his friend. “Make sure to clean up when you’re done.”

“Asshole.”

“I hear that a lot,” he said drolly, making her laugh.

His diamondback was always telling him he was an ass. She traced over the image of her own snake. It was growing nicely as it slept, and she couldn’t wait to meet it. The image of the diamondback made her feel like she belonged. Like she was really part of the team. Of the family. The feeling made her giddy. Instead of dying, she’d been blessed with everything she’d always wanted. Some days she couldn’t quite believe just how much love was in her life now. She wrapped her arms around her husband’s waist and hugged him tight. He kissed her hair. Striker knew exactly what she felt about her “second life.”

“Right, here we go.” Hunter grinned over his shoulder at the rest of the team. “Should we look at this in private first, Friday? Are we gonna see some stuff you’d rather we didn’t share with the team?” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

There were chuckles, but she was lost. “Like what? Sex? I only do that with Striker.”

The laughter increased.

“Let’s keep it that way,” her husband grumbled.

“Right, here we go.” Hunter tapped at his old-fashioned keyboard. “We’re going to speed through the twenty-four-hour period before Friday stupidly dosed herself with poison.”

Striker’s hand flew out, and he cuffed Hunter across the back of his head.

“That hurt,” their tech guru grumbled, but his focus stayed on the screen.

There was silence as the team watched her former life inside CommTECH. She didn’t speak to anyone, she simply focused on her work. The sight made her shift uneasily, ashamed that everyone could see exactly how pathetic her old life had been.

“You’re not that woman anymore,” her husband whispered, making her wonder, yet again, if he could read her mind.

She smiled her thanks and held him closer.

“That’s the fourth nutrition bar you’ve eaten,” Mace pointed out. “Your diet has improved dramatically since you’ve been here.”

“I’m still waiting for my lobster, though,” she reminded him, to the team’s amusement.

The man mountain shook his head, but there was a smile on his face.

Her focus went back to the screen, which showed an empty corridor behind the data pad in her hand. She’d been hurrying, rushing to get back to her work, and going over her research notes while she walked. Her whole life revolved around her job, to the point where she used to sneak back into work when she wasn’t even supposed to be there. It made her even more grateful that things had changed.

Striker’s body stiffened against hers. “Go back,” he ordered. “Then take us forward, slowly.”

Friday held her breath as they watched the slow-motion footage. They saw everything through her eyes, as though they were inside her head with her on that day. She was focused on her data pad, and then suddenly the view became blurred. She’d stumbled over her own feet. When the image came into focus again, she no longer looked down at her data pad. Instead, she’d glanced to the right—straight at a group of people meeting in the lower level conference room.

“Freeze that,” Striker snapped.

She sucked in a breath at the image in front of her. A murmur of shock rippled through the team. On the screen were the four most powerful leaders in the world—Ju-Long Lee, Serge Abramovich, Sandrine Cherbourg, and Miriam Shepherd. They were smiling and shaking hands with two other people. Miriam held out a credit chip toward one of the other men, and Friday shook when she recognized him. Arnold James, one of the three leaders of the Freedom organization. The image changed slightly as Hunter walked it to the next frame. The last unknown man in the image grinned as he slapped Ju-Long on the shoulder. It was Matías Delagado, president of Bolivia and the unofficial leader of the Coalition Countries.

Friday staggered back a step, felt the chair behind her hit the back of her knees, and sat down with a thump. Striker placed his hand on her shoulder.