Payback. Harper AllenЧитать онлайн книгу.
he raised to follow in his footsteps.” She backed away. “I’ll have to content myself with going after my darling Uncle Lee’s boss, Dr. Aldrich Peters…but for my own reasons, not the Cassandras’. I want payback.”
Compassion filled Kayla. “Payback won’t erase the pain. You should talk to someone—”
“No offense, Ryan, but I don’t need advice on how to deal.” Dawn’s expression was shuttered. “You and your friends think you know everything there is about me. Want a demonstration of something that didn’t make it into my file?”
Swiftly she reached down to her ankle. She straightened, and Kayla saw the small, snub-nosed automatic she was holding as Dawn flicked off the weapon’s safety and jammed the muzzle against her upper arm.
“No!” Kayla grabbed for the gun, but too late. The shot’s explosion echoed deafeningly. “Dammit—why?”
Even as the shocked question left her she was wrenching the weapon away and grabbing a nearby towel. “Stanch the blood with this while I get help.”
“I told you, I don’t need help with the healing.” Dawn looked down at the wound. “Already reconstructing,” she said, her smile oddly bitter. “Hurts like hell but that’ll pass, too.”
“Already recon—” Kayla’s horror turned into bafflement. “Your body’s knitting itself back together!” she gasped. “Your arm…it’s as if—as if—” In silence she watched as the last traces of the wound disappeared, leaving only a few smears of blood. “It’s as if you were never shot,” she said unevenly. “We guessed that Peters was doing genetic experiments, but this is—”
Dawn’s smile thinned. “Freakish?” she suggested. “When I believed my regeneration was a gift of nature, I thought it meant I was special. Lee Craig lied about that, too.”
“I wasn’t going to say that,” Kayla denied hotly. “Your impressive demonstration aside, I still think you should seek help with the healing process. You’ll never be able to move on till you do.”
“I’ve already moved on.” Dawn picked up a sports bag by her feet. “Like I said, I’m going to take down Lab 33.”
“The Cassandras have another assignment we’d like you to consider first.” She’d wanted to broach the subject less bluntly, Kayla thought, but from the start this meeting hadn’t gone the way she’d expected.
“Find someone else. Aldrich Peters is my business. He has been since the day twenty-three years ago when he played God with my genetic makeup.”
“Not only yours,” Kayla retorted. “We believe there was at least one other child born from Rainy Miller’s egg. A baby girl. She was kidnapped at birth, possibly because Carl Bradford leaked Peters’s plans to an interested party. Don’t you want to find your sister before turning your attention to Peters?”
“A sister like me?” Letting go of the sports bag, Dawn gripped Kayla’s arms fiercely. “Another woman who was manipulated by Peters the way I was?”
“We have no idea whether her abilities would be like yours,” Kayla explained swiftly, shaken by the raw emotion in the younger woman’s tone. “Or if she even has any. That doesn’t change the fact that, if she’s alive, she’s your—”
“So I’m still alone.” Dawn’s arms fell to her sides. “I guess it was crazy of me to hope…” Her movements stiff, she started to pick up the bag again, but Kayla stopped her.
“Hope what?”
Dawn faced her directly. “That I’d found someone to share the nightmares with. When I was working for Lab 33 I told myself I was on the side of the good guys, but that doesn’t change the fact that I was judge, jury and executioner. Lee was the only one who understood how I felt.”
“The only difference being, he carried out every assignment Peters gave him,” Kayla reminded her sharply. “He deliberately chose the dark side, Dawn.”
“And so did Aldrich Peters.” The younger woman’s features tightened. “The Cassandras want me to find my sister before I turn my sights on Peters. Fair enough, but if you’re hoping she’ll be able to help me in this healing process you say I need, forget it. I heal just fine all by myself.”
Without another word, she strode to the exit, her posture ramrod-stiff. Instead of following her, Kayla watched her go.
“That’s just it, O’Shaughnessy, I don’t think you will heal all by yourself this time,” she said under her breath. “If you don’t…” She glanced at the shattered steel chain, the destroyed workout bag. “If you don’t, neither you nor the Cassandras have a chance of walking away from this alive. And from what I know of him, that’s exactly what Aldrich Peters will be counting on.”
Chapter 1
September
Status: twenty-one days and counting
Time: 0900 hours
Any second now the man sitting across the desk from her could give the order to have her killed.
Dawn smoothed her palms on the gleaming leather of the skintight catsuit she was wearing, but as Aldrich Peters leveled an emotionless look at her she realized her mistake. She schooled her face to blankness, knowing there was nothing she could do to control the trip-hammer beat of her heart. After a long moment he bent his head again and resumed his perusal of Lab 33’s report on her.
Her few days AWOL from Lab 33 last December had stretched into nine months—longer than she’d anticipated, but then, her assignment for the women of Athena Academy had resulted in locating not one lost sister, Lynn White, but a second sibling, Faith Corbett, who had also been a victim of genetic manipulation and who’d had no knowledge of her true origins. Together the three of them had been introduced to the man who was their biological father, Navy SEAL Thomas King…a meeting she hadn’t wanted to attend. What was I supposed to say to him, dammit, she thought as she waited for Peters to finish reading. “Hey, now I know you’re my dad I’m kinda glad I missed when I had you in my rifle sights a couple of months ago when I was working for the bad guys?”
At the time she’d almost been glad she had the excuse of returning to Lab 33 to explain her hasty departure. But as the complex’s steel doors had begun sliding closed behind her yesterday evening, cutting off her last glimpse of the arid New Mexican canyons and foothills, a sense of complete isolation had overtaken her. And with her first breath of the recycled air supplying the massive underground bunker, a Cold War emergency command center secretly built in the 1950s that had never been utilized, but for years now the site of Aldrich Peters’s shadowy organization, her time away had seemed suddenly unreal.
For a moment she’d felt a terrible certainty that it had been unreal. There was no such group as the Cassandras; she hadn’t found Lynn White and Faith Corbett, her biological sisters; she’d never learned the truth about her existence. She was a Lab 33 assassin. She answered to Aldrich Peters. She was in a nightmare where nothing had changed.
In near panic she’d whirled around with the half-formed notion of darting back through the closing doors. At her unexpected movement the nearest guard—a commander, as she’d noted from the dull red flashes on the collar of his field-gray uniform—had jerked his weapon up into firing position, at the same time scrambling clumsily away from her. Behind his face shield she’d seen his eyes, open so wide that rims of white circled his pupils.
They’re scared of me, Uncle Lee! A long-buried memory flashed into Dawn’s mind. I wanted to play tag with them, but they shouted at me to go away. One of them called me a freak. Am I, Uncle Lee? Am I a freak like they say? In Dawn’s memory, the six-year-old version of herself felt arms scooping her close, smelled the somehow reassuring mixture of harsh tobacco and gun oil, heard a voice whose undertone of anger she knew wasn’t directed at her. They’re the freaks, Dawnie. You’re special, and don’t you ever let the sons of bitches convince you otherwise. They’re scared because