Actually, sections of our perimeter had electrified fencing, and those areas that didn’t were barricaded by fifteen-foot stone walls, except for the shoreline. But we had that protected with underwater nets and traps to prevent any enemy from reaching the shore.
“Seems so.” Tripp sped through the dark tree-lined road that wound around behind military housing.
The handheld radio crackled before a gruff voice came through. “Command center, this is Charlie four. Come in.”
“Go, Charlie four,” Petty Officer Hawk responded.
“Need reinforcements,” Petty Officer Allan returned.
“There’s a team heading your way,” Hawk said.
I braced my hand on the dashboard. “You said it was a woman. I wonder if it’s Rianne.” The crazy Aberdeen sister had the female balls to storm a military installation. “If it is, I will kill her. Well, I will if she’s alive.”
During the showdown at Intech, I’d driven a dagger into Rianne’s stomach, not once but twice. Then I’d flung her across Intech’s property. She’d landed against the building hard. Sadly, the bitch had still been breathing when Layla and I had managed to flee—unless Rianne had bled out later. I could only hope.
Tripp’s jaw was rock solid. “If she’s the perp, you might have to fight me to see who kills her.” His hatred for Rianne was coming through loud and clear.
Rianne was seriously fucked in the head. She was salivating to give up her humanity for the sole purpose of besting me. She believed the only way to kill me was to be like me. Well, that wasn’t fucking happening. Engineering an exact replica of Sam Mason would never come to fruition. Not in my lifetime. Or at least I hoped not.
2
SAM
Silence followed us as the headlights bounced, lighting up the darkened road. Tripp was well over the base speed limit of twenty-five miles per hour, navigating the winding curves like an expert NASCAR driver.
Luckily it was four in the morning, so most base personnel and their families were asleep. We weren’t in danger of running anyone over, though I’d seen people jogging in the early-morning hours along this stretch of the dense tree-lined road. Hell, I even ran this route on occasion during my workouts.
I rolled down the window and sharpened my senses. The July humidity swept in along with the salt air from Mt. Hope Bay. Beneath the sound of the Jeep’s engine was the increasing rumble of another car’s motor.
“Pull over,” I said.
Tripp’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel. “Why?”
“Our target is approaching, and there’s only one way to stop her.”
“I know how to stop her,” he snapped as he drove into the other lane.
My eyebrows knitted. “A head-on collision? Fuck no. If the intruder is a reporter, we’ll have bigger problems on our hands. Or the woman could be drunk and innocent, or someone is chasing her.”
He sighed through a growl. “When did you grow a conscience?” He wheeled back into his lane, taking his foot off the gas, then pumped the brakes before pulling off the road.
“And when did you become me?” I retorted.
His nostrils flared. “I really want Rianne to be in that car.”
I chuckled. “I’m with you on that, dude.”
Our target’s engine grew louder, so we both climbed out.
I found a spot in the lane of the oncoming vehicle. “I’ll wave her down. But if she doesn’t stop, I’ll use my elemental powers to short-circuit the engine. That should slow her down enough to roll to a stop. Afterward, I’ll erase the driver’s memory just in case she sees me using my powers.” Unless Rianne was behind the wheel. Then I wanted her to remember me ripping out her throat.
I waved my arms in a crisscross fashion as the car swerved at a high speed. This was definitely our intruder, who either couldn’t drive, was asleep, or was drunk.
“She’s not stopping or slowing,” Tripp said.
Motherfucker.
I quickly stretched out my arms as lightning flashed in the distance.Perfect.Just the type of weather to fuel my powers. Though I still had enough juice in me from the lightning storm in West Virginia the night I’d rescued Layla.
