Nexus Tear (Laments of Angels & Dark Chemistry Book 2) Page 11

  “You’ve done me a good service today, Dr. Schmidt,” she said. “Now I need you to wipe the records clean from your hard drive. I’ll watch you do it.”

  “I regret it very much that I must do this,” Schmidt drawled, his hand reaching for a coffee mug on the desk.

  Marloes leapt toward Lucienne. In a blink of an eye, Lucienne was down on the ground, eyes wide. Marloes fired three shots, all of which failed to reach Schmidt. A second later, the captain fell on her, bullet-riddled body jerking violently.

  Two robotic machine guns fired unceasingly from opposite walls, one at the waist and the other chest high.

  Even with Marloes as a leaden weight on top of her, Lucienne managed to pull a knife from under her suit skirt and throw it toward Schmidt.

  The knife dropped at the edge of the desk, the same as Marloes’ bullets.

  Schmidt leaned back in his leather chair, his feet on his desk. “You’ve recognized the force field.” He chuckled over the sound of the machine guns. “I acquired this experimental technology just last month.”

  An Armatix in hand now, Lucienne repeatedly shot at the unseen barrier between Schmidt and her, but the bullets plummeted before they reached the desk.

  Schmidt shook his head. “I’m out of your reach, little Siren.”

  Lucienne laid Marloes beside her. She had to stay on the ground to avoid the guns, but her eyes and her pistol never left the doctor.

  Frantic shouts erupted from outside the office. Her men were shooting at the lock with high-powered rifles.

  “The door is made of special material,” Schmidt said. “It’ll take a while for your boys to get in. The only mistake I made is I didn’t expect your guard to act that fast.” He darted a glance at Marloes. “She’s very good—too good for her own good. I went through plenty of tests on military targets much tougher than her. You’re the only survivor, and all because of her.”

  Hatred blazed like furnace inside Lucienne, but she ordered herself to keep a cool head.

  She picked up Marloes’ gun and shot the wall where the waist-high machine gun mounted. Marloes’ gun could cut through a regular wall. Lucienne shot the connection to the machine gun. She then repeated this with chest-high gun until both were disabled.

  Her other hand still held the Armatix, whose aim had never left the space between Schmidt’s eyes.

  She knew while the force field was up, Schmidt couldn’t fire at her either. She waited—as soon as he lowered its defense, she would cut down the doctor.

  With her gun fixed on her enemy, Lucienne checked on her captain.

  Everything had happened so fast. In retrospect, she realized she had reacted a second too late. Schmidt’s comments about having Ash as his lab rat enraged her, and her fury clouded her judgment. When the doctor lifted the coffee mug, he triggered the weapon system and activated the force field simultaneously.

  But how could Marloes have detected the ploy? Her captain was much better than she had thought.

  Schmidt’s helmet prevented a mind invasion, and she had been overconfident that her team could handle any threat. Her arrogance cost the life of her captain.

  Marloes’ pulse was growing weaker. The captain wore a bullet-proof vest, but a bullet had pierced her neck. Lucienne’s sleeve was soaked in Marloes’ blood as she pressed it against her captain’s throat, trying to stop the bleeding.

  Marloes looked up at Lucienne. The warrior’s brown eyes were no longer sharp and clear. They were going dull, yet they exuded pride and comfort—she had fulfilled her

  promise to give her life to the Siren. Because of her, Lucienne Lam was alive.

  Lucienne felt a lump in her throat as remorse hit her like hail. During those few months with her captain, she had never showed Marloes any warmth. She would now give anything to go back and make it up to her captain.

  But all she had lost wouldn’t come back to her.

  And losing Marloes was more than devastating—Lucienne hadn’t realized until now that part of her had been clinging to the woman, the only tie to her mother. Her captain held Jekaterina’s memories, however briefly. Her pride and pain used to make her hate herself for craving the love of a mother who deserted her so she had pushed Marloes as far away as she could.

  “Jekaterina’s protector and mine, thank you,” Lucienne whispered. “I’ll avenge you.” She wouldn’t tell Marloes to hang in there or that the help was coming. They both knew the captain wouldn’t last long.

  Marloes widened her eyes, still conveying concern for the girl’s safety.

  “Anything I can do for you, Blare? Anything!” Lucienne continued to whisper in Marloes’ ear, her gun aimed at Schmidt never swaying an inch. “Send me your thoughts, and I’ll know.”

  Your mother sent me. She knew this day would come, and many more would follow. Find Jekaterina. She has answers. She had to leave you to protect you. Then Marloes gasped for air as more blood poured out, her consciousness filling with pain.

  Fighting back tears, Lucienne pressed a spot on the side of her captain’s neck. She wouldn’t let her savior suffer anymore. “Rest in peace, my captain,” she said, and the captain of the guards ceased to breathe.

  Gunfire broke out outside. Shouting increased. Schmidt must have tipped off the Sealers, and their reinforcements had arrived.

  “Why?” She kept her detached expression. “My family funded you.”

  “Your support has been dwindling. On the other hand,” said Schmidt, “the Sealers Brotherhood promised unlimited funds and human subjects for my research. They do not spite me, but value my work. I’m one of them.”

  He dropped his feet from the desk, lifted his helmet a few inches, and turned to show Lucienne an inked mark behind his left ear—a tattoo of an arrow piercing a mystical eye inside a full circle.

  A chill sank in Lucienne.

  The Siren’s symbol was a full circle containing an all-seeing eye. It represented the idea of the Sirens leading the world. The Sealers not only knew about the Siren’s sacred symbol, but had created a counter-symbol—an arrow in the center of the all-seeing eye.

  Lucienne managed not to shiver, knowing that any sign of fear or hatred would only gratify the doctor’s sadistic nature. She sent him a haughty look. “You’re nothing but a pawn.”

  “If you think the Lams are still the oldest, most powerful family,” Schmidt adjusted his perfect tie, “you need to wake up. The Sealers are far more influential than you. They’re the true old blood, older than Freemasonry, Buddhism, Christianity, the Illuminati, and all the brotherhoods. And the elite don’t just invite anyone to join them.”

  He just confirmed that her half-brother Hauk Lam was a figurehead in the Sealers’ ranks, and that the Sealers had been the shadow competitor to the Lams for centuries.

  How deeply and broadly had the Sealers infiltrated the Lams’ global industries? Did she have some of them in Sphinxes, too?

  “The Lams can still squash you like an insect,” she said.

  Schmidt shook his head. “You still don’t understand what has come to your playground, little girl. We’re behind many events and decisions the nations make. We’re behind the wars between countries and races. We’ve waited for centuries, for a moment like this, to strike down the Siren of the Lams and all you represent.”

  Lucienne felt the mark on her nape tingle, and apprehension gripped her. The war between the Siren and the Sealers had begun in Schmidt’s laboratory. And her enemies chose to strike now because Nexus Tear was no longer dormant.

  The gunfire outside the office reached a frenzy.

  Lucienne fired another shot at Schmidt, hoping the force field had weakened.

  “It’ll hold until I’m gone,” he said. “I’m only waiting for the Sealers’ army to clean up your men outside.” He glanced at his watch. “It should be any second now.”

  How could the army get here so fast?

  “I sent an encrypted message as soon as I heard you were coming.” Schmidt seemed to read her mind. “The Seale
rs summoned Chechen rebels. The Brotherhood’s special task team is already on the way.” Over the Siren’s look, he chuckled softly. “Don’t be so sour, dear. I’m merely choosing the winning side.”

  There was a loud crash. Lucienne’s men had finally broke through the door. Duncan charged in with furious cries, followed by Adam and two others. They looked relieved to see that Lucienne was safe, but their faces turned grim at the sight of their fallen captain. They trained their machine guns on Schmidt in sync and opened fire.

  The bullet shells piled up under the desk.

  “Naughty, boys,” Schmidt said good-naturedly and plucked his vibrating phone from his lab coat pocket. “My ride’s here, which means the local army has eliminated your men posted outside my lab. I was supposed to bring the Siren’s head with me. Unfortunately I’ll have to leave your fate in the hands of the rebels. They’re brutal even for my taste.” He pressed his palm against the sensor that Finley had checked and entered a code.

  The scanner flashed green, and a hidden door appeared in the wall.

  Duncan spat, “We’ll hunt you down, rat!”

  “I’d love to see you try, boys, but none of you will leave here alive,” Schmidt said. “The Brotherhood has brought a full regiment.” He sent Lucienne a leer before ducking out of the hidden door. “I’ll find your specimen. And don’t worry, little Siren, I’ll take good care of him. He’ll be my life’s passion. Bye-bye now.”

  As soon as the small man exited, the door shut behind him. The bullets cut into the door as the force field went down.

  The doctor was gone.

  Adam looked at Marloes’ body in grief and anger. “How could I have missed that snake’s gimmick? It’s my fault.”

  “We couldn’t know. He used a shielding device.” Lucienne squatted beside Marloes. “Captain Marloes realized it before the guns started shooting. She saved me.”

  “They’re breaking through our rank!” Finley shouted over fierce shooting outside the office.

  “We need to take Captain Marloes with us,” Lucienne said.

  “We'll come back for her,” Duncan urged. “Right now your safety is the priority.”

  Lucienne sighed. Her hand gently brushed Marloes’ cheek. “Captain.” Then she rose to her feet, two handguns in her hands. One of them was Marloes’.

  “Stay close to the Siren,” Finley ordered as he and two other warriors fired into enemy lines to clear a path.

  The team dashed toward the corridor.

  Duncan talked into the radio in code, and the other team responded in the same fashion. This meant they had secured the passage to a side lab. Duncan turned to Finley. “Ziyi has hacked into the lab’s system. No door will shut us out.”

  Even so, it wouldn’t be easy for them to break out of Schmidt’s labyrinthine labs while they had a whole regiment pursuing them.

  “We take the south exit,” Finley said. “There are only three more labs between us.”

  The men rushed on, leaping over the rebel dead littered in the corridor. Lucienne spotted one of her men among more than two dozen rebel corpses. Her throat closed up. “How many did we lose?”

  “We’re outnumbered thirty to one,” Finley answered, meeting Lucienne’s eyes. “A-team is lost.”

  The air force and marine teams outside the building were all dead. She breathed hard, her blood turning to ice. I have to push my grief aside.

  “The pilot and the crew escaped,” Finley continued. “They’re trying to bring Flame III, but it’s surrounded by the rebels’ fighters. Kian’s on the way. We have to hold on for twenty minutes.”

  Lucienne read the determination in his eyes—get the Siren safely back to Sphinxes at all cost.

  Her gaze lingered on a few sprawled bodies of the lab technicians.

  “They were caught in the crossfire,” Finley explained. “They worked for Schmidt. They’re no better.”

  At the corner, a team of five marines joined them. The group moved across an open lab.

  Duncan talked into the radio, informing two other teams that they had retrieved Magpie, and instructed all units to cover the fly boys and get Flame III to the south side.

  Lucienne realized Magpie was her code name and almost rolled her eyes.

  “Move tight,” Finley ordered. “We must get to the south side in five minutes.”

  As the men ran into the next lab, gunfire broke out.

  Rebels swarmed everywhere.

  The Sphinxes’ team engaged the enemies and took cover.

  Bullets flew in all directions, hitting flesh, concrete, and containers of human organs.

  A soldier guarding Lucienne fell. Adam and another marine pulled her under a marble counter before she could go to the fallen soldier.

  Finley emerged from behind a column, setting loose his automatic machine gun and dropping a line of militants. He dove under a counter as bullets soared over his head, but a marine who was backing him up went down.

  Duncan gestured to a marine to stay with Lucienne, then moved away, and popped out from behind a lab machine. His rifle roared, sending a hail of rapid-fire bullets.

  Adam and the rest of the warriors fired from behind their cover.

  Amid the debris and gunfire, Lucienne caught a glimpse of the bio lab across the hallway—where a vial of Ashburn’s blood sample was stored.

  She needed to copy the test results, destroy the sample, and wipe the data from the hard drive.

  Ducking down, Lucienne raced toward the grey-ceilinged lab. She had the elements of surprise on the two rebels and fired shots with expert training. The two men went down, but more poured into the lab, guns blazing. Lucienne dove through the nearest doorway for cover.

  Glass, dust, and chunks of concrete rained down around her, and bullets zipped past. She heard her men’s panicked cries as they fought to get to her, but a barricade of bullets sealed off the path and pushed them back.

  “Fall back!” Lucienne shouted. “I’ll find you!”

  She was inside the genetic lab.

  Kicking the door shut, she started downloading the file into a palm-sized drive she brought with her. She knew she could have Ziyi handle it, but she would rather leave nothing to chance.

  In a few seconds, she had Ashburn’s test results.

  Although she shot Schmidt’s hard drive and cleaned the remainder of Ashburn’s blood sample, a flicker of uneasiness still passed over her. What if Schmidt had transferred the records to his offsite servers? She’d have Ziyi take care of the problem later.

  A blast hit the lab door as the battle raged outside.

  The militants were trying to break in, but her men were stopping them from reaching her. The enemies’ forces seemed to be gaining.

  She had only one way out—the back exit.

  Lucienne darted toward it—Ziyi had cracked the door system, so it opened under her push.

  Lucienne ducked out.

  As she moved further away from the crossfire, she pulled out her encrypted Eidolon.

  Then the fringe of her vision caught a blur of movement.

  Someone was in her proximity. And this one was extremely well-trained. He’d gotten this close before her hyper-senses alerted her.

  The target was at five o’clock.

  Lucienne dashed out, her finger fastening on the trigger, ready to pull.

  Then the person wasn’t there anymore.

  Lucienne wheeled around, her gun sweeping, and the next second, her finger loosened on the trigger.

  Joy surged through her.

  Thousands of words came to her, all at once, competing to pour out. In the end, she couldn’t utter a single syllable, and her very first reaction astounded her and then shamed her more than anything.

  An assault rifle slung over his shoulder, Vladimir Blazek lowered his Armatix pistol.

  From across the room, he gazed at her. He looked different than when she had last seen him. His hair was no longer windblown but knotted in braids. He still dressed to impress. The open designer leather
jacket showed off his hard-muscled body.

  He looks good. For a moment, she was disappointed at seeing him so fetching. What had she expected—him looking like a stray dog after he left her?

  She hadn’t missed the same enormous joy in his hazel eyes when he first spotted her, and while it remained, hunger and pining started consuming them.

  Wait a minute. She blinked back to reality. Stop flattering yourself. The delight and the hunger in his eyes only meant one thing—he was passionate about ending her. He was picturing his satisfaction right now on drawing her blood.

  Her eyes turned icy.

  “Lucia,” Vladimir whispered, as if her name was still precious to him, as if she still meant everything to him.

  Snap out of it, she ordered herself sternly. He’s your enemy. He brought this force of hell onto you. And some of your men are lost because of him.

  Thick emotions stuck in her throat, making it hard for her to breathe. Hate, love, then hate again, twirled inside her like ice and fire circling each other before their final clash.

  His eyes roamed over her, like a sommelier savoring the aroma of fine wine.

  Lucienne was suddenly aware of her appearance. Her business suit and knee-high skirt were sullied with dirt and Marloes’ blood. Her hair was half toppled down.

  His gaze moved to her exposed legs and lingered there. He always had a weakness for her legs. Should she shoot him while he was checking her out?

  Killing him wasn’t a fantasy anymore. He was right in front of her. Just squeeze the trigger and she would erase him from the face of the earth. She would have one less enemy.

  Her fingers gripped on the gun again, then to her surprise, they shook. She wasn’t the one who used to tremble.

  Vladimir strolled toward her.

  “Stop,” she said in a husky voice, not lowering her pistol. “One step closer, I’ll blow your brains out.”

  The gun felt slippery in her hand. She was sweating. She had never sweated when facing an enemy. She never faltered. She never blinked. She was never merciful. And now she was ashamed of her shaking, sweating hands.

  Vladimir stopped, his face paling. Joy and desire dropped from him like a cold stone. His eyes hardened, turning to dark forest with a storm raging inside.