Out Of Time

“What do you have?” Alex asked without hesitation. “What the hell is this file, Denny?”

“Big stuff, cowboy,” Denny replied. “The Chinese are pretty worried over this one, and if they don’t like it, you know it’s got to be bad. They don’t play well with others, as a general rule.”

“I just got home a few weeks ago,” Alex said. “I was sort of planning on some downtime.” He knew it didn’t mean a thing; he was buying time and running what he’d read through his mind. He knew he should be telling Denny what the doctor had said. This one was hot, and there wasn’t going to be a lot of time to find someone else to handle it. If there was someone else.

“I know, Alex, and I hate it, especially considering that things didn’t go great for you in Mexico, but I told Kate I’d at least present it to you. We don’t send out operatives this soon unless it’s mission critical, and I like to give my men at least a month or more off between assignments.”

“That’s why I’m surprised,” Alex said. “I’ve always had at least that long—usually closer to six weeks or more—between missions.”

“This is going to be a tough one, Alex. Security is tight, and the schedule is half a gnat’s ass short of insane. We’re under the gun, and you may be our only field agent who can pull it off. You have experience with the Chinese, and you speak the language.”

It was true. Alex had completed two missions in the east in the past ten years. As an Army Ranger he’d been specially trained for Chinese operations—he spoke several dialects, and with some work he could pass for a tall Asian if he had to. Of course, given the right opportunity, he could pass for almost anything.

“The file said MRIS was involved,” Alex said. “You know Brin works for them. It’s pretty close to home.”

“As far as we know, her work isn’t a part of this,” Denny said, “but it’s a safe bet that they’re using every resource they have in one way or another, even if the people don’t know it themselves. I doubt there’s any part of the company not involved in this one way or another. I’m sure she’s clean—we checked and rechecked to make sure—but I don’t know what it will mean for her if they bring this all together. Hell, I don’t know what it will mean for China, or the world, but it won’t be good. Chemical attacks are bad enough—if they manage to infect someone over here with those damned nanobuggers of theirs, it could get out of control pretty fast. We can’t let that happen.”

“Of course not,” Alex agreed. “Do we have an in? They’re going to be looking for trouble, especially if they’re as close as you say. You sure we have time for this? Might be better to turn one like this over to more standard channels and get them shut down.”

“Can’t risk it,” Denny said so quickly that he must have anticipated the question. He was like that. “Relations between China and the U.S. are already too strained. Our sources on this are in deep—they can’t be the ones to bring this forward. If we tried it, it would just be seen as us taking another shot at their culture. They’d tighten up, shut us out, and by the time they’d realized their mistake, it would be over. We have to go in—hard, fast and right now.”

Alex didn’t reply. Denny didn’t wait long.

“You want it, cowboy?”

Alex glanced down at his hand. For the moment, it was steady. He thought of Brin, smiling at him and hurrying Savannah out the door. There was such trust in that smile, such love. How could he leave her alone to face—what? A company that wasn’t really trying to cure diseases, but intent on spreading new ones? Would she be safe? Would they come after her, others like her, to force them into creating bigger, better diseases instead of curing the ones they had now? How long before Savannah was in danger?

He sighed. Maybe he wasn’t one hundred percent, but even at ninety he was better than most. This might be his last shot at doing something that really meant something. Maybe he could beat the MS and still do what he loved.

“I’m in,” he said. “Give me what you’ve got.”

“Timetable transferring to your calendar,” Denny replied. “You have the files. There are photos, a database of personnel, instructions on contacts and credentials. You know the drill. Once it’s all transferred, and you’re airborne, we’re out.”

“The assignment?” Alex asked. He knew the information would be in the file, but he wanted a few seconds more to back out if he thought of a way to get clear. Nothing came to mind, and this wasn’t a drug lord making things nasty on the border—this was a huge global threat.

“We need the research either retrieved or wiped out,” Denny replied. “It has to be removed from all their systems and backups. We want it utterly gone. There is also a list of key personnel, the people we have established with certainty are behind this. They have to be taken out of the equation so they don’t just recreate the work. There has to be a message sent with this, Alex. It must be made clear that this kind of thing won’t be tolerated. If we hit too hard, we’ll get too much attention—but if we don’t hit them hard enough, they’ll—”

“Just come back like bad pennies,” Alex finished. “Where do we stand right now for field support?”

“You’ll have a local asset in Beijing who will supply any and all needs beyond your departure. You have, of course, full run of equipment, data and assistance on this end. That ends the minute you hit the ground over there, so take advantage while you have the chance.”

“Will do,” Alex replied. “Damn. And I was looking forward to weeding the garden this week.”

“You’ll get to it, cowboy,” Denny said.

“Yeah,” Alex replied. “I guess. I’m out. I have a lot of reading to do, and then I have to explain to Brin and Savannah why I won’t be taking them camping this weekend.”

“Alex, one other thing,” Denny said. “I tried to talk Kate out of calling you on this one. I know you could use a break—if for no other reason than to finish that report on Mexico.”

“It’s okay,” Alex replied. “I have to do this—you know I do. It’s too close for me to ignore. I’ll get in, do the job and get out as quickly as I can. Plenty of time left for gardening when it’s done.” He grinned. “And I’ll upload the report on my last mission to you before I leave.”

“That’s the spirit,” Denny replied. “Catch you soon.”

Alex left Denny’s office, then brought up the icons again, choosing the one for home. His view shifted and once more he was in his own virtual office. He flipped open the first file. He wouldn’t be able to download or print any of the data, so he had to make the most of the time he had to read and memorize everything they knew. His life might depend on it. What he could safely carry would be waiting for him at the equipment drop—names, photos and false identification.

“Damn,” he muttered. “Holy five-flaming hell.”

He cursed, and he read, and he drank black coffee. When his hand twitched and then began to tremble, he told himself it was just the caffeine.

Alex had meant to offer his resignation. To call it quits and spend his last good days with his wife and daughter. If Denny or Kate or anyone in Room 59 found out about the MS, the mission would be aborted. They might even take him out to keep him from snapping. He couldn’t let that happen—he needed this one. It was his chance at the blaze of glory—a final shot at being a hero. This was a mission that could make a difference, and he wasn’t about to turn it down. A warrior without a war to fight wasn’t much of anything.

As far as missions went, it was a good one. Challenging and making the world a safer place. At the least it beat holy hell out of a pile of useless pamphlets and a race to oblivion. It would have to be enough.

As Alex read, memorizing names and places and facts, the sun slipped toward the horizon. The sad little lamp on his desk—considered a treasure when they’d found it at the garage sale years ago—was an inadequate soldier against the shadows that had filled the room. He was just about to take a break, make some more coffee, when he heard sounds of talk and laughter in the driveway. Brin and Savannah, returning from their day out in the world. How many times had Brin come home to an empty house since they’d been married? Too many, he guessed. Still, that would be ending soon enough.

Alex disconnected from his office, and put the glasses back beneath the desk, then stood and walked toward the front door. For now, his body seemed to be obeying all commands, but he wasn’t sure just how long that would last. The door swung open, and there was Brin, looking every bit as prim as she had that morning, one hand full of mail, the other clutching her briefcase.

“Hey, you.” Alex chuckled. He leaned on the wall, this time because he wanted to, not because he needed the support.

“Daddy!” Savannah rocket launched across the room and left the ground in one last glorious leap, knowing that her daddy would catch her in midair.

Catch her he did, smothering her little cheeks and neck with kisses and growling his big bear hug into her hair. God but he’d missed that! “How was your day, princess?”

“Good day, Daddy.” Savannah smiled, eyes sparkling, giggling as she patted him down for presents.

“Sorry, kiddo. Daddy hasn’t even left the house.”

She sighed and squirmed, wanting to be put down.

“How about you, Mommy?” Alex asked. “How was your day?”

He set Savannah on the floor and turned to sweep Brin into his arms. She was ready with a kiss and a smile, and most anything else he needed. He hoped she was ready with understanding, too.

“You know, gene splicing, curing diseases, saving the world. Blah, blah, blah!” She tossed the mail and her keys onto the hall table and tucked her hair behind her ears. “Give me a minute to change and I’ll start dinner.”

Alex wondered if her company was also working on a cure for MS, and if they were, would they find anything in time to save him. None of the pamphlets he’d read sounded promising, but a lot of medical advances were kept quiet until they were ready for a public unveiling. Maybe when he got back from this mission, when he could tell her the truth about his condition, he’d ask her about it.

She was halfway to the bedroom before Alex thought to call after her. “No need. I ordered pizza and it should be here any minute.”

She spun on him, a silly, crooked grin stuck to her face. “I’m that predictable that you can order food to be delivered the moment I walk in the door?”

“Yep! You’re the predictable one. I’m the irrational, flighty one. Good system.” The doorbell rang and he reached for his wallet. “Hurry up and change. I’ll get the pizza and get Miss Savannah seated.”

He swung open the door and thrust out the twenty in one easy movement. The pizza guy was young and his face looked a lot like the pizza he delivered. Outside, there was a small blue Toyota, built sometime back when Carter was still in office.

Alex smiled. “Keep the change.” He shut the door and turned the lock.

When he reached the kitchen, Savannah turned and smiled at him from where she sat, legs swinging, in the high chair. “Pizza! Yay!”

Alex stopped abruptly and frowned, then grinned to himself. “Did you get up there all by yourself?” Of course she did. Who else would have helped her?

Savannah mumbled something incoherent but nodded her agreement.

“You’re a very smart girl. But please—” He stooped to fasten the strap and put on the tray. Then he leaned in close and whispered, “Please don’t grow up so fast. Daddy will miss his little girl.”

He pecked her cheek and slid her close to the table, stopping then to study her face. It changed daily, growing, maturing. A week away brought him home to find all her expressions morphed somehow. A month, and he could hardly recognize her.

“Did you remember the pineapple? I love pineapple.” Brin swept into the room, still buttoning the buttons on her blouse.

Alex caught sight of her and smiled, thinking how nice it would be to pop each and every button right off. “Pineapple present and accounted for, ma’am!”

She smacked him as he saluted.

There was lots of pizza, chitchat, a sundae for Savannah. The normality of it almost made Alex think that things might end up fine. It was all part of the dance. They both knew what they were working toward…later…after Savannah had gone to bed.

The nightly ritual was followed to the letter. The table was cleared, Savannah bathed, her story read and her little covers pulled tightly under her chin. Just the way she liked it. Her poodle night-light softly glowed from across the room, and Alex blew kisses as he shut the door.

His body had behaved quite nicely all evening. He was thankful for that much. Brin waited for him in the kitchen, a glass of wine in each hand. She pressed one into his right hand and turned him toward the door with a kiss, then pushed him in the direction of the sofa.

Alex took up his place, all territories having been decided on long ago. Brin slid into his arms and sipped her wine, pulling his arm around her and kissing the back of his hand.

“I missed you so much.” She sighed. “I always do.”

For a moment, he thought he would cry. He took a sip of his wine, against doctor’s orders, and swallowed hard. “I missed you, too. I just don’t feel right when I’m away from my girls. Which is why I don’t want to leave you again. But I have—”

He got no further. Brin spun in his arms, crushing her lips to his, shaking a bit as she kissed him. When she pulled back, there were tears in her eyes and her lip quivered.

“Wow! What was that all about?”

“I didn’t want you to tell me that you’re leaving again. Not so soon. Please, not so soon. You just got home.”

He drew the back of one hand over her soft cheek, found a tear there and wiped it away. “I wouldn’t go if it weren’t important, Brin. It’s my job. I have to go.”

“I know.” Her voice quavered. It broke his heart. “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow.”

“No. Please.”

She hesitated, then dropped her eyes in resignation. “Where to?”

“The Middle East,” he said, hating to tell her yet another lie, but knowing that he could never tell her the truth. “I can’t be any more specific. This is huge. Really huge. I couldn’t say no.” She nodded and he continued. “After this one, no more for a long time. I swear. I’ll take an extended downtime. Maybe we’ll even take a vacation.”

“Promise?”

He nodded. “I promise.”

She slid along his body, pushing with her toes and letting her lips reach for his. One hand found his glass, pulled it free and set it on the table. She kissed him again, then whispered, her breath washing hot over his cheek, “Make love to me. Please.”

He slid his fingers into her hair, pulled her down on top of him, and the world faded to soft flesh and whispered kisses.

For a while, it was almost enough to make him forget.

6

It was still dark when Alex woke. He lay very still, not wanting to disturb Brin, who was curled tightly against his side. Sunrise was still more than an hour away, and he dreaded its arrival. The new day would mean the beginning of the end, the start of his last mission before the disease took its inevitable toll.

Even after reading through the pamphlets and scouring the Web, all Alex really knew was that his prognosis was grim. Primary progressive MS, when it moved quickly, often robbed a person of mobility, eyesight…even sex could become too painful or impossible due to mobility impairments. He didn’t want to go out that way—useless, hopeless, miserable.

Too many things he cared for would begin to unravel when the night ran down, and he could hear it ticking away like a giant clock—or a bomb. He would do this last mission and go out a hero.

Brin stirred, rolling toward him, and he slid his arm around her, pulling her close. She turned a sleepy-eyed smile up to him, and he brushed her eyelids with his lips. He was shocked at the sudden heat the contact brought. She sensed it and pressed closer, running her lips up his chest. He shivered as her hair tickled his throat.

Alex rolled onto his side, slid his arm across Brin’s body and rose to stare down at her. His arm trembled and his heart raced.

“No,” he whispered.

“What?” Brin raised her head, but he dropped over her fiercely, covering her lips and sliding his hips up to mesh with hers. She gasped, but as his palm pressed her thigh, she parted her legs and he drove forward, pinning her to the mattress, pressing so tightly the friction burned. She cried out, but not in pain. Her legs curled around him, drawing him deeper still, and he dropped into the sensation. He ground his hips, and she met each motion. He slid over her, felt her breasts press into him, nipples hard and rough. Sweat lubricated their motion and they fell into a rough rhythm.

The room blurred and Alex closed his eyes. He wrapped his arms around Brin’s taut, muscled body and moved with her, chasing the sounds of her pleasure with his motion. He closed his eyes and clutched the sheets, digging his fingers into the mattress and fighting for control. She sensed his urgency and bucked up into him with a soft cry. It was more than he could stand.

Tears flowed down his cheeks and blended with the sweat of their coupling as they climaxed. His body tightened, shuddered and grew still, but he didn’t move off of her. He lay there, limp, drained and gasping for breath as she kissed his cheeks, ran her fingers through his hair and brushed his shoulders with long, sharp nails. Slowly his mind, heart and lungs dropped back through levels of sensation. He felt her heartbeat against his chest. He lowered his head and managed to brush his eyes on the sheet in his hand in a pretense of wiping away sweat. He didn’t want her to see his tears.

Brin stroked his hair in silence for a few moments.

“What was that?” she asked.

“You didn’t enjoy it?” He stiffened at the thought it might have all been for himself, that he might have stolen their final moments of intimacy in selfish lust.

“I didn’t say that. It was wonderful. It is wonderful. But it was so intense. It was like you were trying to pull me into you, or through you. I—”

Before she could go on, a soft thump sounded beyond the door. They both glanced up sharply. The sound repeated and Alex couldn’t stifle a chuckle. He rolled slowly off Brin, wrapping her in his arms. She reached down quickly and drew the sheet and comforter farther up the bed.

“Savannah?” Alex called. “Are you out there?”

They lay in silence for a moment longer. The bump repeated and a soft voice called out.

“No.”

They both laughed, and moments later, childish giggles sounded in the hall.

“Go lay down, baby,” Brin called out. “We’ll be out in a minute.”

“I want to come in,” Savannah called petulantly. “I want to wake you up.”

Brin started to speak again, but Alex stopped her. His hand shook as he gripped her arm, and he released her as if he’d been bitten. He let his voice break a little to help explain away the tremor.

“Let’s get dressed and let her in,” he said softly. “I miss both my girls, you know? I don’t want to miss a moment with either of you.”

She watched him. He saw her glance at his hand, and he willed it to be steady, just this one time. It remained rock solid, and she stroked his cheek, then laughed.

“Okay, hotshot. I’ll get dressed first, then you. I have to get out and make breakfast. I have a big day. I have a meeting with Rand this morning, something new—and big. He wants me to go over some new research.”

“Big brains and nice breasts.” Alex laughed. He lunged for her, but she was too quick, slipping off the edge of the bed. He watched her, and a lump filled his throat. He didn’t try to speak, and moments later she had her nightgown on and stood, waiting on him.

“Rise and shine, hero,” she said, smiling brightly. “I get the shower, you get the child. I’ll trade you in twenty minutes.”

He grinned at her, rolled out of the bed and fumbled in the dresser until he found a pair of pajama pants and a T-shirt. He turned just in time to see Brin disappear into the hall, and Savannah’s bright, inquisitive face peering back in through the door. Growling like a bear, he charged.

His daughter squealed, spun and scampered off down the hallway. Alex pursued, but not too quickly. Some races are better if you come in last, and he knew where she was headed. A soft couch pillow to hide behind and screams for cartoons would come next. He smiled and dived after her, sliding onto the couch, spinning and curling her in close. Before she could even ask, he’d clicked the remote and brought the big-screen TV to life. Alex buried his nose in his daughter’s soft hair and closed his eyes as she giggled, squirmed and laughed at the prancing animated nonsense on the screen.

He squeezed her tight, enjoying the contentment he felt at that moment. If only it could always be that way.

THE REST OF THE MORNING passed far too quickly. He nearly broke down hugging Savannah goodbye, and she wasn’t happy to hear he was leaving again. Alex watched from the doorway as Brin bustled the girl into the SUV, and didn’t turn away until the two of them were down the road and out of sight.

He packed lightly. There was no way to know what he was getting into—not exactly. It was better to choose his gear after he knew. His magic was camouflage, but it was a subtle art. He couldn’t carry too much, or too little. It wasn’t enough to take on the appearance of a new persona. It was absolutely inadequate to simulate change. He had to disappear. He had to melt into another reality where Alex Tempest didn’t exist at all—or if he did, he was disconnected. He had very little time.

Too many things could go wrong. If the doctor mentioned his condition to anyone connected to Room 59, the mission would be aborted. If there was any incident indicating he was less than one hundred percent, he’d never leave the country. Funding would dry up, and very likely his access to Room 59 would cease to exist, as well. There was nothing he could do to expose them, not that he would. They might contact him, but somehow he didn’t believe that they would. They were a tight, close-knit group, for all their independent operations, but there was one truth binding them all. The mission came first. The greater good overshadowed personal glory, needs and safety.

In less than an hour, he was out the door. Before he left, he went to the small garden he and Brin had planted behind the house. Very carefully, he clipped a single rose and a small violet. He carried them inside and sat at the table in the kitchen to write.

He started several notes to Brin. He wanted to tell her everything. Their love had always been based on trust, and not sharing—particularly at this moment—felt like a betrayal. In the end, he carefully shredded his first four attempts and wrote simply, “I love you,” on a card. He drew a heart and carefully slit the paper, sliding the stem of the rose through it like an arrow.

Then, with equal care, he drew a cartoon bear on a second sheet of paper. He laid the violet across it and wrote carefully, “I can’t bear to be without you. See you soon. Love, Daddy.”

He couldn’t remember ever tearing up so many times in the space of a single day. It seemed as though even the ability to control his emotions was being taken from him. He brushed it away, grabbed his things and slipped out the door, locking it behind him. He looked back only once, staring at the small, comfortable home wistfully. Then he turned and walked into another life as if he’d never existed.

7

Brin spent the first hour in her office, filing correspondence, answering e-mail and fuming over lost time. Meetings were a big part of her life as director of the lab, but they infuriated her. Every moment she spent schmoozing board members, entertaining investors and planning for the future of the company was time away from her research.

A lot of very talented men and women were involved in the same sort of research she conducted, searching for clues to the nature of degenerative diseases, testing and retesting possible cures. She knew most of the best and brightest by name, the rest by reputation. In a few she recognized kindred souls, minds and hearts dedicated to healing and life. In too many others, though, she found only greed, pride and the bickering nature of academia.