Kai tapped the sound controls and the quick rasp of breathing filtered through the speakers. Then hands appeared in the image. Female hands. Halina’s hands—Mitch knew those long, graceful fingers. She had beautiful hands. She was wearing the tennis bracelet he’d bought her on a weekend trip to Vermont early in their relationship. The weekend, he remembered, he’d fallen deeply in love with her.
But the memories dissipated with the frantic movement of her hands on the video. The way her shaking fingers yanked open a drawer and slid the notepad in, then jerked open another and, with a sweep of her arm, dropped all the chemicals on the counter out of sight.
Just as the drawer slammed shut, a voice blasted, “I told you to handle it, Halina.”
The camera jerked up from the counter and their computer screen filled with Schaeffer’s image as he approached from across the room. Halina backed down the counter away from him.
“It’s like a helmet cam,” Keira said softly from the side of the group.
“She must have worn something in her hair,” Mitch said. “She always put it up for work. In a twist or a ponytail.”
“You said you could do that.” Schaeffer stood only a few feet away. With the camera tilting along with Halina’s head, Mitch had the sensation of literally standing in Halina’s shoes. He saw the menacing look in Schaeffer’s gray-brown eyes. The snide curl of his thin lips. The disgusting shake of his double chin when he spoke sharply. And he heard the threat in Schaeffer’s voice. The innuendo thick in his undertone.
He instantly knew a jury would salivate over the chance to punish Schaeffer for his harassment and intimidation. But also knew that kind of charge wasn’t enough to end his sick games. Wasn’t enough to keep the team safe.
“No, I didn’t,” she countered, a shake in her voice. “I’ve been telling you I have no control over him, but you don’t listen.”
Him. Mitch’s mind twisted, contemplating all the possible players this him could be—Rostov, Gorin, Saveli. Hell, even Abernathy and Young popped into his mind.
Schaeffer’s hands jetted toward the camera, then disappeared from view while the whole image shook violently. The fucker had obviously put hands on Halina. Schaeffer was so close to Halina now, his bared teeth appeared crisply in the image, in all their imperfect, brown-edged glory.
“Don’t talk back to me,” Schaeffer rasped, low and threatening, spittle clinging to the sides of his lips as he spoke. “Just do what I told you to do.”
“I . . . I . . .” The high-pitched panic in Halina’s voice tore at Mitch. “I’m trying. I—”
“Trying isn’t good enough, Halina.” Schaeffer leaned closer. The whites of his eyes carried fine red lines. The area around his mouth was tightly wrinkled. “Get your boyfriend off Classified’s ass. And I mean now.”
Mitch’s gut fisted. This was what Halina had told him on the plane. No, not told him as much as confessed after he’d uncovered it.
“You’ve already had him fired from his job,” she said, clearly through gritted teeth, though there were tears of desperation in her voice now. “I’ve done everything I can think of. But he’s . . . he’s so . . . driven. I’ve gotten rid of his home files, but he’s still got some on his comput—”
Already fired him? She’d told him she’d been trying to prevent him from getting fired.
“Then crash it,” Schaeffer yelled on the screen. “For Christ’s sake, you’re a fucking genetic scientist, Halina. Use your brain.” He shook her hard again and she whimpered. “I don’t care how you do it, but do it. Classified is getting spooked. As long as Foster is on their ass, they won’t process our chemicals, which means we can’t continue this project. They’re losing millions. We’re losing billions. America is losing lives.”
Schaeffer pushed her back with a jerk. The camera shook hard and Mitch clenched his fists, found himself wanting to reach for Halina to steady her—that’s how real this video was. And when her fast, harsh breaths filled the computer speakers, Mitch’s matched them.
“We’re not going to let one man stand in the way of all that.” Schaeffer dipped his chin, gave her a heavy-lidded glare and pointed at her. “You get him off Classified, Halina. If we have to do it, you’ll never see him again. You’ve got forty-eight hours.”
Mitch pulled in a sharp breath. Time seemed to freeze for a long moment while his mind click-click-clicked pieces into place. “Holy. Shit.”
“Please,” Halina begged on-screen. “I need more time. I need—”
“You need to do what you need to do to end this. Or we will. Permanently.”
Schaeffer turned, stalked across the lab, and exited.
Around Mitch, several long, heavy breaths exited his teammates. But he continued to watch as the camera shook with Halina’s muffled sobs. Watch as the camera panned down the cabinets with Halina’s slow slide to the floor. Watch as the camera tilted toward the floor, then her feet, then went dark when she pressed her head to her knees.
And listened as her wrenching, hopeless sobs hammered from the speakers.
She hadn’t been trying to save his fucking job. She’d been trying to save his goddamned life.
His mind tried to scatter in half a dozen different directions, scrutinizing the new connections that suddenly made sense. All the inconsistencies in her background. All the paradoxes between who she’d been and who she’d become. All the resistance to Mitch’s interference. All the jealousy over other women when she’d been the one to leave him.
“Oh my God,” he murmured.
Kai stopped the video. The room was silent—even Kat had stopped chattering, which left an eerie emptiness to the space.
Mitch’s gaze blurred over the screen, his abdominal muscles rigid in protection against the punch after punch he’d taken watching those videos. Sitting forward, leaning on his elbows, his pressed his thumbs to his lips. Inside, chaos reigned. He couldn’t imagine the fear she’d suffered. The confusion. The stress.
He was sliced up the middle with pain. One side dying over the abuse she’d taken to protect him. The other twisted over her keeping it all secret.
“He wasn’t after Halina,” Quaid said. “He was after you. He just used Halina to get to you.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Luke said. “She might have lied about why she ran back then, but Abernathy is after her research now. And we know she was the third scientist. Let’s watch some more—”
Mitch waved the idea away and rubbed both hands down his face. “Do it somewhere else. I can’t see any more of that.”
Kai picked up the laptop and moved to the table. He put earphones in and watched more video.
Mitch sighed and pressed his fingers to his eyes, trying to reconcile his emotions and thoughts. But it wasn’t working. He pushed off the sofa to pace and stared down at the carpet, hands on hips.
“What is your issue?” Alyssa asked in that you’re-being-an-idiot-again, big-sister tone. “She not only saved your life—more than once—she’s given up hers to keep you safe.”
“Which is completely selfless, I agree,” Mitch said, turning toward her. “And I’m beyond humbled anyone would sacrifice to that degree for me—”
“I’m beyond shocked,” Ransom muttered.
Teague held up his hand and added, “Beyond scandalized.”
Kai took one earplug out and said, “Beyond disgusted.”
Mitch sighed, looked at Cash. “Would you like to throw yours in before I go on?”
Cash’s eyes, usually sharp and bright, had a dull haze over them this morning. He shrugged. “Beyond . . . envious? You should start looking at what you have instead of what you fear you don’t have.”