Maverick (Elite Ops 2)

“Halperidol.” Jordan nodded. “That was what the doctors found in your system when you were taken from the institution by the team sent to rescue you.”

She nodded.

“What do you remember of those visits Jansen made?” Jordan asked.

Micah watched her pale.

Moving behind her, he placed his hands on her shoulders, unable to stand away from her, from providing her some form of comfort as she was forced to pull those memories free again.

She hid from them, he knew that, and he hadn’t pushed it. Had this operation worked out as they had anticipated, Orion would have been captured, her rapist in custody, and she would have been safe. There would have been no reason for her to remember.

“They were working on a drug,” she whispered. “I don’t remember the details, but it was supposed to replace the Whore’s Dust. They would inject me, then watch my response to it.”

“And you remember your response?” Jordan asked.

“I remember.” Her shoulders were tight as tension sang through her body.

“Jordan, this isn’t necessary,” Micah protested.

Jordan’s blue eyes slashed back to him. “But it is necessary, Micah,” he stated, his voice cool. “If she remembers anything that could help us capture her rapist, then we’ll ensure he doesn’t hire another hit man once we’ve taken Orion out of the equation. That’s our secondary mission, remember?”

Oh, he remembered, all right. But tormenting Risa didn’t seem to be an acceptable course to catch the bastard. Orion would know who his employer was, according to their contact.

“It wasn’t as bad as the original Whore’s Dust,” Risa stated, ignoring their argument. “It was more painful than anything else. Jansen was angry each time because it didn’t seem to produce the effect he wanted.”

“And what effect was he looking for?” Jordan asked as he made notes onto the legal pad he’d brought with him.

Micah watched as her hands clenched together atop the table.

“He wanted me to beg as I had the night he gave me to the other man,” she stated, her voice quivering. “He wanted me to beg for…” She shook her head.

“For sex,” Jordan finished.

Risa gave a jerky nod of her head as Micah glared at Jordan.

“I remembering thinking that I knew him.” She breathed in roughly. “His voice and his hands. That I’d met him somewhere, but I couldn’t remember.” She gave a quick shake of her head. “That’s so fuzzy, I can’t remember it. I thought I could, while I was sedated yesterday evening. I was aware enough that the memories weren’t hard to retain, but I can’t seem to make the memory go far enough.”

Jordan nodded at that.

“How will that information help you?” she asked him then.

Jordan lifted his head and stared back at her. “Micah seems to think you’re not strong enough for this operation,” he stated. “He wants you in a safe house. I need all the information I can get before we have you moved. Just in case Orion figures out what we’re doing and manages to get to you.”

The son of a bitch.

“Fuck you, Jordan,” Micah growled as Risa tightened further, then with deliberate calm pulled herself away from him and rose from the chair.

When she turned to stare at him, he swore he felt a strike of pain slam into his chest. As though an invisible dagger had struck his body.

“He doesn’t think I’m strong enough?” she asked, her gaze spearing into him, almost mesmerizing as he watched the anger that filled it.

“I didn’t say that,” he ground out between clenched teeth. “That’s his take on it.”

“But you agree with him?” she asked as though she couldn’t believe he would and yet had irrefutable proof of it.

His jaw clenched. “You’re not an agent.”

“He’s not trying to kill an agent,” she pointed out, her voice burning with anger now. “He’s trying to kill me. How will it make me safer if I’m not here? Won’t he just follow me?”