Frustration burned in the pit of her stomach. “Not this type of cloning,” she said. “He wanted me to take all my amazing genetic research, combine the mutations into one human being, and clone that creation. He wanted to clone it and clone it and clone it until he had an army of perfect little genetic people.”
That seemed to strike some sort of understanding. Mitch jerked back, dropped his hand. His gaze sharpened on hers. “What?”
Halina pushed off the wall and dropped her arms. “He wanted to grow people. In labs. Like bugs in giant glass jars. No parents. No siblings. No communities. He just wanted me to clone them so he could grow them like plants, train them to kill, and send them to war. Do you realize the extreme ramifications of that scenario?”
She held her breath as she watched his brain cells fire and connect. His eyes darted back and forth as he thought. Then they came back to hers.
“You knew what he wanted to do with those clones, Halina,” he said. “You were working on the project.”
Her mouth dropped open. “That’s what you pulled from what I just told you?” She bent and waved her hands in font of his face. “Hello. Are you listening to me at all? I’m in this mess because I wouldn’t work on that project.”
Dex whined as if to say, “Don’t fight.”
Mitch ruffled the fur at his ears. “I hear you telling me Schaeffer had, evidently still has, plans to turn your Nobel Peace Prize-worthy research into an automated, mass-murdering army.” He frowned at her. “Do you really expect me to be surprised?”
The sudden pain of a deeply personal stab to the heart flooded her vision with tears. She threw her hands in the air. “You’ve just reduced my entire life’s work to the complexity of making muffins.”
The tears spilled over and she swore. Rubbed them away with quick sweeps of her fingers.
“You knew, you were involved and you lied about that just hours ago when you thought I’d let you go if you knew nothing. I’m sorry if I don’t get overly excited about everything you tell me, Halina. I’d like to know it’s true first.”
“I knew about it—at the end. And I’ve already made it very clear I . . . was . . . not . . . involved. Knowing about something and being involved in something are as different as knowing how to drive a car and being a mechanic. And, yes, I lied, for the same reason I lied seven years ago. I don’t want what I know in the hands of the wrong people.”
And that was another line of information she wouldn’t cross. If she told Mitch that she’d done what she’d done back then to save his life, not her own, she’d never get away from him. Whether he’d stay with her out of gratitude or guilt didn’t matter. The fact remained that if he stayed with her, if he pried too deep into this mess, Schaeffer would kill him.
She hadn’t given him up, hadn’t given up the last seven years of her life just to let him walk into Schaeffer’s crosshairs now.
“And just like you said,” she said, “if I had quit, all my research would have remained with Schaeffer, and it wouldn’t have taken him long to find another scientist to take all the discoveries I’d made and implement the science. I saw two choices and cloning wasn’t one of them.”
“Rat him out to someone high up,” Mitch said, filling in her options in a smooth, cool tone, “hope they weren’t tight with Schaeffer, and wait for one of two results—exoneration or execution. Or steal the research and run.”
She nodded and turned her gaze out the window. Shadows from her past crept in, but she didn’t need to hide those anymore. Mitch already knew about them, too. Still, the disappointment and shame of how those ties had followed her here hurt.
“Remember how proud I was that I’d been picked for the job above the other candidates?”
In her peripheral vision, she saw Mitch nod. She remembered telling him about it when they’d first met.
“Schaeffer chose me because of my family, not just my work or my achievements.” She laughed, a disgusted laugh filled with irony and bitterness. “And he chose well. I feared his authority the way I feared my uncle and the men who worked for my uncle. I respected the value of secrecy for its power to keep a person alive. I understood how every choice brought a consequence, and I had experienced or witnessed punishment at every level. I knew a threat when I heard one. And I knew—and still know—men like my uncle, men like Schaeffer, follow through on their threats. Even men in comas have others who will follow through for them.”
Another long moment of silence fell between them. She could feel their mingling pain filling the space as if it were physically tangible.
“You’re wrong,” he finally said, his voice emerging flat, but still soft. “If he’d chosen correctly, you’d be dead and he’d have your research.” He lifted his gaze from the table. “You proved him wrong, Halina. Dead wrong. But you also paid one hell of a price to do it. And you made me pay a hell of a high price too, without ever giving me a choice.”
Her chest took that hit, directly beneath her breastbone. She winced. Lowered her gaze to the table. “You’re right. I can’t deny that. But you also say that like I made the decision lightly, which I didn’t.”
“And how would I know that, Hali? You made all the decisions without me. You didn’t even give me a chance to choose.”
His hurt was beginning to fade in rising anger again. Halina tried to brace for it even knowing it was useless. This was going to get dicey.
“Instead of coming to me for help,” he said, “someone who knew the ins and outs of law enough to be considered for appointment to the attorney general’s office and the presidential advisers list, you went to a distant relative who you didn’t even truly know you could trust. And you cut all ties—and when I say cut, Halina, I mean with a fucking axe—with the one person who cared about you the most, and who had the most influence to help you.”
She put up her hands, mostly as a reminder to hold her own frustration in check. “You have a very selective memory. You’re obviously forgetting that at the time you had already been fired from the attorney general’s office. Fired because you had mishandled a case involving a major—major—player in the chemical industry—”
“You damn well know I didn’t mishandle anything—”
Dex gave a half bark, as if to remind them their conversation was growing too heated for his taste. Mitch lowered his hand to Dex’s head.
“That’s not what everyone who created influence around the Hill believed,” Halina said. “They were made to believe that you were on a mission to railroad that chemical company. You had no pull with anyone who could have helped either of us at that time.
“And, really, Mitch, to expect me to come to you after all those months of me lying—about where I worked, who I worked for, what I did, why I came to this country, basically, who the hell I was—then asking you to bail me out for my own stupidity? And to risk your life doing it? I know you think I’m selfish, but even I’m not that callous.”
Halina thought back to her turmoil over wanting to confide in him yet knowing if she did, she risked his life because he didn’t have the power to protect himself. “You were so amazing to me all those months we were together, treated me better than anyone in my entire life. Loved me more than anyone has ever loved me. Honest with me at every turn. Took me on trips, bought me presents, introduced me to your friends, your family, even your work colleagues, like you were proud of me . . .”