Target: Hard Target Part 3

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Glancing over my shoulder, I half expect to see him step out, but nothing happens, so I turn my attention back to my mission and make a beeline for the lab.

I open the door, calling out Dr. Clark's name, but no one answers.

Strangely, the lab is eerily quiet. The times I've come here before, music is playing in the background and usually a tech is nearby to chat with me. It's cold as anything in here, so I grab one of the white lab coats hanging by the door and put it on then shove my hands into the large pockets and let the small package rest inside.

Walking further into the room, my footsteps are barely echoing as I try to find someone to give the package to. When it comes to the lab, I'm not allowed to simply leave a delivery on a counter in the hopes that it will be seen. These lab types barely know the rest of the world is still going because PharmGen's lab is their world, so I'm required to physically hand it over to one of them.

"Dr. Clark?" I call out again. Dr. Clark is the only one who requires that we address him by his t.i.tle while the others are very laid back. Not even Tansy has me call her by Dr. Bhamra and she's the a.s.sistant lead scientist here.



"Tansy? Farooq?" I wait another beat before finally trying again, calling out the name of the woman I like least. "Olivia?"

No one answers me.

My skin p.r.i.c.ks. Foreboding rakes its sharp claws down my spine. With every step that leads me further inside, my body screams at me to leave. Finally, I listen. I have no desire to end up like a girl in a horror movie, so I start to hightail it in the opposite direction.

Suddenly a hand appears in front of my face. I suck in a breath to scream, but the hand covers my mouth, and then I'm being dragged backward. Shock turns me into a ragdoll. I can't scream for help. I can't even move. Fear paralyzes me.

"You wasted your time trying to alert the media," a low voice says. It's heavily accented but I can't tell if he's German, French, or even Middle Eastern.

Do something.

I bite his hand and he jerks it away.

"b.i.t.c.h!" He kicks the back of my legs and I hit the floor hard. Pain shoots up through my kneecaps. Tears spring to my eyes as my survival instincts finally kick all the way in.

"Help me! Help!" I scream, scrambling to my feet.

The man shoves me back onto my knees.

"No one will hear you. The lab is soundproof."

The unmistakable sound of a gun c.o.c.king makes me almost wet myself. "Someone will see you," I insist.

"No one will see you die because the windows are frosted, you stupid girl. It's only you and me."

I whimper. "Can't we talk about this? Make a trade or something?"

"There is nothing to talk about. Nothing to trade."

"Sure there is. There always is," I babble. Keep him talking. Make him do a bad guy monologue so that somehow the hero shows up and saves you. "Like a helicopter. Money. Your own island."

"Shut up."

"Don't you want to tell me how you're going to kill me?" Frantic and desperate, I scan the room, looking for something to hit or stab him with. "All the best villains give a detailed description."

He nudges my head with something hard. The gun, probably. "It's simple. You didn't follow protocol, so now I have to kill you."

Protocol? Oh c.r.a.p. "You're going to kill me for sleeping with Ben?" I all but shriek.

"Shut up." He kicks me in the back.

I fall forward with a cry, my head narrowly missing hitting the floor. Squeezing my eyes shut, I begin to pray.

A shot rings out and my body jerks, and I'm sure I'm dead. Except there's no pain. There's a thud. My eyes open to find a man staring back at me. Only after a moment do I realize it's a dead-eye stare-his forehead has a smoking hole in the center of it, and it's trickling a thin line of blood.

He's dead.

Images of dead bodies flash in front of my eyes. Lifeless arms reaching for me. Pale skin and dark blood on the floor, on the walls.

I swallow a scream. I have to get out of here. I have to.

"Oh G.o.d. Oh G.o.d. Please help me. Oh G.o.d. Oh G.o.d," I chant.

Move your a.s.s, Morgan. Don't think about the past. It can't hurt you.

My slick palms make it hard for me to find purchase, so I start to Army crawl my way to the door. Only a few more feet and I can escape. I can run for help and- I'm grabbed from behind again and lifted into the air. Only this time I fight like h.e.l.l, landing a few kicks and backwards head b.u.t.ts along the way.

"Be still, Morgan," a harsh voice whispers into my ear as I'm set on my feet. "If you want to live, be still and be quiet."

"Ben?"

"Yes."

I'm so happy it's him and not the bad guy come back to life that I start weeping. "Oh thank G.o.d."

His arm comes out to the left side of me and that's when I notice he's holding a gun and using me as a s.h.i.+eld, his arm like a band of steel around my chest.

The a.s.shole.

"Get behind me," he says and shoves me to one side.

Okay, maybe he's not using me as a s.h.i.+eld after all. Still, he has a gun and he used it. "Why do you have a gun?" Slipping behind him, I hold onto his suit jacket for dear life.

"Every hacker has a gun." He stops, then turns to his right.

"I thought computer viruses were y'all's weapons of choice?"

"Not today."

"Thank you," I whisper, leaning against him. My body starts to shake violently and he turns around, his blue eyes sharp and cold as diamonds. I miss the heat he provided but at this moment, with him looking like that, I'll keep my hands to myself.

"Are you okay?"

I attempt to nod, but end up shaking my head instead. "No." My teeth clatter against one another. "I thought I'd get fired, not executed for breaking the rules."

He eyes me, as if he doesn't believe a word I'm saying. "That man works for Wraith. He's not here to enforce PharmGen's rules. Most likely, he mistook you for Dr. Neal."

"Why would he do that?" Yes, Olivia and I both have blonde hair, and we're of similar build, but that's about it.

His gaze drops to my b.o.o.bs and I cross my arms over my chest. "Because you're wearing her lab coat."

"Oh." My teeth start chattering again. "Can we get out of here? Go tell whoever what happened?" Then it hits me... "Wait, y-you said most likely. Why else would he try to kill me?"

He slices his gaze to my face. "Perhaps you made a deal with the Wraith organization and didn't follow through."

My mouth drops open. "A deal with-Look I've never even heard of this Wraith Organization."

"I have to keep every possibility in mind," he says softly.

"I prefer you not judge me until you know all the facts."

"Fair enough." He leans against a counter casually, as if there isn't a dead body in the lab. "I'm listening."

"Oliver has off today, so it's my job to deliver time sensitive packages. I signed for one, not even twenty minutes ago, and then came up here." I flick my gaze to the body on the floor, then back to him and shudder.

His mouth quirks on one side. "I saw you."

Of course he had. "Once I got to the lab, I let myself in. No one answered and I couldn't leave the package, so I grabbed the nearest lab coat and went searching. Except that guy found me instead." A shaky breath leaves me. My knees tremble, but my heart rate is slowly returning to normal. "Then you saved me."

"That remains to be seen." He grabs my arm. "Let's go."

Chapter Four.

Benjamin Morgan's face is so white that I'm tempted to give her time to calm down, but we can't stay here. Security has been alerted, yet they have not responded.

Something is very wrong with this entire situation.

I grab her arm, my grip harder than I mean for it to be. "Let's go."

For the third time in my life, I'm scared s.h.i.+tless for another human being. The first time was for my brother, when I thought our father would kill him and the second... well, the second was for a woman who the Bratva thought was getting too close to me. But Kate managed to save herself by breaking things off with me. I hadn't been the most understanding, then.

"It will be okay," I tell her.

"Are you sure?" she asks, licking her lips.

I'm not sure at all, but confidence is what she needs right now. "Yes."

She smiles at me. It's watery, sweet and grateful. The kind of smile a woman would give a man for rescuing her.

"Have you ever seen him before?" I ask, knowing it's a long shot but figuring it's worth a try.

"No. Never," she says, her voice strained. "I need-"

Whirling her around, I push her against the wall and lean in. "You need to keep going, love. Later, I promise you can rest."

While there is every need to hurry, there is no need for me to look or act guilty because I shot a man. If anyone should see us, they would a.s.sume that I'm throwing her out for sharing company secrets. More likely than not, they would send up a silent thanks to G.o.d that it's not them, that they're going home for the day with the security and a paycheck that a job brings.

She eyes the place where I've hidden my gun. "By killing me?"

"I'm not going to kill you, Morgan," I say, disgusted with her a.s.sumption. While my brother had a strict policy of only killing the guilty, I have a strict policy of killing those who are trying to kill me. Or in Morgan's case, killing those who would kill her. She's innocent in this. She has to be.

A gun to one's head will make most anyone spill their guts.

"You're going to kill me for sleeping with Ben?"

There was no mistaking the pure terror and disbelief in her voice. She actually thought that was why he wanted to kill her. Morgan isn't dumb and she's not a ditzy blonde either. She simply doesn't realize that evil lives, h.e.l.l, thrives, in the world, at least not the kind I'm used to being up close and personal with.

The majority of the people on this planet go through life like that, thinking that the guy who took their parking spot deserves the ninth circle of h.e.l.l, or the woman who stole their man away should rot. They don't worry about things that go b.u.mp in the night. They think their governments will protect them. Their military and law enforcement.

But in the world I left behind, everyone has a price. Everyone will look away for the right incentive. Honestly, I hate that she's had to experience even a little of that, but it's better this way. She will be better for it.

I'll make sure of it.

"I really don't know what's going on, Ben." Her voice is whisper thin.

"I know you don't." Grabbing my key card, I scan it, triggering elevator. "Let's go."

"Where?" she asks as the elevator doors close.

"To the top."

She sags against me.

I can't help but put my arms around her. It's not the best position to be in, but I'm not expecting another attack. The shooter acted alone. The gun and the bullets he used were made of the same kind of plastic used in 3-D printing-so neither would set off an alarm. It's how I get through security every day as well. The little metal required in the making of each is no more than the amount of jewelry a woman wears each day.

"I'm scared," she admits, tipping back her head to look at me. "What if they did mean to kill me?"

"Who would want to kill you?"

She shrugs. "Rival moons.h.i.+ners."

"Pardon?"

"I'm from the mountains of Georgia. My family was the preeminent family in the production and selling of moons.h.i.+ning, which is illegal in the states."

"Was?"

"I'm all that's left... well, along with a few cousins."

"Your government did this?"

Target: Hard Target Part 3

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Target: Hard Target Part 3 summary

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