Toxic Game (GhostWalkers 15)

“You sound anxious.”

“Don’t play games. I know you paired us. That aside, anyone seeing the results of this virus would feel anxious. She’s valuable to the world and you know she is. Whether she’s under your command or a GhostWalker unit’s, she’s too valuable to die. Our children alone would make her of value, let alone all the training she has.”

Whitney heaved a heavy sigh. “There is no cure for the virus.”

“They were working on a vaccine, weren’t they? The Williams brothers and Orucov. You had them working on a specific vaccine.”

“There is no use in explaining that we need biological weapons to match what other countries are secretly developing. With those weapons, we need vaccines to ensure our soldiers are protected at all times. I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Why? I’m a soldier. I’m also a doctor. I’ve seen the effects of these viruses and the fear always is another pandemic.” Draden poured sincerity into his voice. “Of course, we need vaccines against the viruses. We need therapies to treat them. Studies have to be done. I’m not arguing the point. What I’m trying to do right this minute is to save Peony’s life.”

“You have to accept that is impossible.”

“If you accepted most things were impossible there wouldn’t be GhostWalkers. I don’t accept that we can’t save Peony, and neither does Trap. We’re focused on stopping this virus from eating her alive, but we don’t have much time. Trap can map out her entire genetic code, but you’ve already done that, and it saves us time.”

“I’ll send it to both of you, but I need reassurances that you’ll return Peony to me.”

“You know if I gave those to you, I’d be lying. I don’t want to play games with you. She’s worth saving and she’s just as valuable to our country staying with me, maybe even more so, than she is with you. You’re either going to help or you’re not.”

“I’m sending to Trap and to your personal email.”

If it was supposed to shock him that Whitney had his personal email, it didn’t. He ignored the subtle bragging.

“Do you have further data on Montgomery? Did you give Peony everything on your three scientists?”

“She has everything I have, but I can send those files to you in case she didn’t have a chance to turn them over. I don’t have much on Montgomery, other than he’s completely worthless and his family has spent far too much time bailing him out of every bit of trouble he’s ever gotten into. He paid his way through college, getting others to do his work for him. One professor was paid half a million dollars to give him top grades because he didn’t attend any of the classes.”

“We’ll find him,” Draden assured.

“You do this, Draden, and I’ll send you everything I have on you.”

“I told you already, you want to show that shit to anyone, do it. I won’t be blackmailed. You caught me in your net when I was young and stupid. It didn’t turn out so bad. I like what I do, and I’m good at it. I don’t give a damn if you want to hold it over my head for the rest of my life because I just plain don’t care if they come for me.”

“That’s easy enough to say because you haven’t had to face a trial.”

“I’ve always refused to be blackmailed by you. I always will refuse. If you want to turn whatever evidence you have of my insanity over to the cops or the military police, do it. I will never be blackmailed. I will never accept a sword hanging over my head. I won’t be owned by anyone, least of all you. And Whitney, I won’t allow Peony to be either.”

Draden’s eyes met Shylah’s. She had to know, sooner or later, that he was no saint and never would be. He loved her, but if she was going to stay with him, she had to know the worst of him. He wanted honesty between them. That was why he wanted her in the room when he spoke to Whitney.

There was a long silence. “I destroyed all the evidence against you the moment you became a GhostWalker, Draden,” Whitney admitted, grudging respect in his voice. “You’re too valuable to our country and you’ve contributed far too much to turn you over to shallow-thinking people who would condemn your actions.”

“I appreciate you thinking that.”

“I was particularly pleased with you returning to school and completing your education.” Whitney sounded like an uncle talking to a favorite nephew.

“It was important to help Trap and Wyatt,” Draden said, as though making a concession by admitting it to the man. “Now, with Peony having this virus, I need more than ever to help them find a way to help her.”

“I’ve sent you everything I have on Peony. I also sent a copy to Trap,” Whitney assured.

Draden pointed to the computer, leaned down and wrote out his email address and password on a slip of paper and handed it to her.

“I want you to know, Bellisia and Zara have adapted well into the GhostWalker program. They are assets as well. You might want to rethink this plan you have of planting a virus in the women before you send them out. Losing any of them could lose us valuable assets at the wrong time.” Draden had to keep him on the line as long as possible. He needed Shylah to assure him that they had her information.

“We need soldiers, not women,” Whitney said.

“I agree,” Draden said. “But without the women we aren’t going to have the soldiers. You set up a genetic experiment. Let it unfold. That’s all I’m saying.”

“It has to be with the strongest of them,” Whitney said. “Women are weak. They fold under pressure as a rule. I test them over and over before it’s decided to use their genetic material to create a true soldier. Only the strongest deserve that honor.”

Draden kept his eyes on Shylah. She’d pulled up his email and turned to nod before she copied the file and saved it to a flash drive. Whitney might have a way of infiltrating, retrieving or destroying the document, and they needed it. She gave him the thumbs-up, and he breathed a sigh of relief. If he had to kiss Whitney’s ass in order to save Shylah, he didn’t mind. If he had to pretend to think Whitney was the coolest guy in town, and agree with his bullshit theories, then so be it.

“I’ve got to wrap this up and talk to Trap,” Draden said.

“Call if you need anything else, and, obviously, if Peony gets worse. I also need reports on the progress of the vaccine.”

Draden’s breath caught in his chest. “You have more of the virus. You’re storing it. Are you crazy? If it gets out, you saw the results. It could go global in a matter of hours under the right circumstances.”

“It?

??s safe.”

“It isn’t safe. You just had three men breach your storage facility.”

“They created it.”

“Because you couldn’t find a virus that would kill Peony.”

“Peony never, ever, got sick. Fortunately, she believed me when I told her I planted a virus in her before she went out, and that brought her back to me. If she had known she was free, I would have lost her.”

“Because you couldn’t make her sick, you were angry with the three you were paying to create something specifically targeted to her.”

“Only her. The virus was only supposed to kill her. She has a specific code and that should be able to be attacked under the right circumstances. They should have been able to create a virus without going so far. If we don’t have immunity from the virus, it renders it useless as a weapon.”

“Montgomery doesn’t think so.”

“Greed supersedes patriotism more often than not. You can’t put people in positions of power and expect them to turn it over to you. They know you’re smarter than they are, and they want to be able to prove to themselves that you’re not. You and I both know that.”

Stroking Whitney’s ego turned Draden’s stomach, but he needed as much information as possible. He wasn’t about to end the conversation on a sour note just in case they might need more information from him later.

“I expect people to do their job when I pay them a fair wage.”

“People are assholes, Whitney. I’m sure you’ve learned that by now. I have to go. I have very little time. Peony’s got a gift for tracking and we need her to run these men down.”

“Keep sending reports.”

Draden had enough. He hit the end button and turned to face Shylah. There was no condemnation on her face, but then he didn’t expect to see it there. He knew her now. He knew she waited on judgment. Because she hunted criminals, he thought she might see in terms of black and white, but she seemed to listen to everything with an open mind. Still, he had committed murder. There was no getting around that. It had to be said.