project were insane and medically incapacitated, and the West Company was searching for them, as well. That left Kit in the hot seat.
Griffin raced after them. His bike caught up to the car. A man leaned out of the back of the car and shot at him. He swerved his bike. He couldn’t return fire at this distance. He couldn’t risk Kit getting hurt.
He sped ahead of the car and then slammed to a stop thirty yards past the sedan. He pivoted and pulled his gun, aiming at the driver’s head. A trained sniper, he could make the shot, but he could also be hit head-on by the car as it veered out of control.
One shot. Two. Clean through the head. The car skidded and crashed into a vehicle parked on the side of the road. If Kit was hurt...
Leaving his bike, Griffin ran to the car. He killed the other two men in the vehicle before they could exit, their punishment for kidnapping Kit.
He opened the driver’s side door, shoving the dead man to the side, and popped the trunk.
He lifted a very frightened Kit from the back of the car.
She was shaking and had a welt on her head. “Did you see the sweatshirt?”
An intentional message and a sign of her faith in him. “I did see it. That was quick thinking.”
“I hoped you would realize they were bad,” she said, curling her arms around his body and laying her head on his chest.
A strange sensation swept over him. He didn’t hug people in the field, but Kit needed him. He didn’t pull away.
“Did they say anything to you?” he asked.
“They want me to break into a system I built,” she said.
That was in line with what the West Company knew of their motives. “I know.”
“I can’t. I don’t think anyone understands. When we built that system, it was not hackable. It is not hackable. Even by the people who built it. We designed it to be unalterable and uncontrollable by any one person. It’s intelligently designed world-class technology. It changes with cybersecurity advancements and keeps pace with new viruses and exploitations without human intervention. Who is planning to hack the Locker?” Kit asked.
“Incognito.”
She drew her eyebrows together. “Oh. I’m familiar with their processes and their attacks in the cyber world. But how is Incognito finding people who worked on the project? We used code names, and our real names were never to be revealed.”
“Looks like something went wrong. Someone somewhere made the connection,” he said.
“Bank payouts. Initial hiring documents. That data was supposed to be destroyed,” Kit said, terror in her eyes.
Griffin understood the fear. He had underestimated Incognito and Kit had almost paid with her life.
* * *
Kit had voluntarily spent a year of her life confined to an underground military base. She was familiar with their processes and protocols, but she didn’t want to return to a military base of any kind. The fake lights they had used to replace sunlight, the restrictions and the sense of being closed in had been persistent. Kit had needed to lie a lot that year, too. She had told her family she was traveling overseas and couldn’t return home. Her sister offering to pay for her flight or to fly out to visit her had been brutal to turn down. It was as if Marissa had known something was amiss and had wanted to confirm.
Kit had first been recruited to work on the Locker out of graduate school. The project had sounded exciting: build a cybersecurity supercomputer, working with the most advanced technology and the world’s best computer scientists and engineers. It had seemed like a great opportunity. But the reality of being cut off from the outside world had worn on her. The work had kept her busy seven days a week, but she had been depressed.
Her rescuer had received instructions and had taken her to a military base. As the copter landed, it was pitch-black outside. Without her phone, she was disoriented about the time and place.
“This is the safest place Connor could arrange on short notice,” Brute said.
Kit stayed tucked close to Brute. Her brain hadn’t caught up to the events of the night yet. She was physically tired, but her thoughts were racing. “Where are we?”
“I can’t tell you,” Brute said.
“I’ll figure it out,” she said. Eventually. Would she be confined for long? Would Brute leave her? A couple of hours ago, being away from him was all she wanted. Now she was filled with fear. Men were gunning for her, and a classified project was no longer a secret. How many people knew?
They disembarked the copter and ran across the tarmac to a nondescript tan building.
“We won’t be here long. This is a stopover until more secure arrangements can be made,” Brute said.
“We? You’re staying with me?” she asked. It was a relief to hear.
“My orders have changed. Until my boss can find someone to take over for me, you’re stuck with me.”
Being stuck with him sounded good, too good. It dawned on her that she was developing a crush on her kidnapper. Or had he saved her? Kit didn’t know how to judge him. He was working with the military, but that in itself didn’t mean he was to be trusted or that he was one of the good guys.
Two men in army fatigues escorted them to a sparsely furnished room with two cots and barred windows high on the walls. The walls were gray, but not in a supertrendy, freshly renovated way. In a dull, depressing, covering cinder blocks way. At least the room was not underground.
The fatigues worn by their escorts were her first clue to where she was. An army base within a twenty-minute copter ride from the Los Angeles area.
“Can I get a change of clothes?” she asked. Her dress was torn, dirty and uncomfortable. She was cold and longed for sweatpants to match the hoodie Brute had given her.
“You hate that dress, don’t you?” he asked.
“I feel like a stuffed sausage.”
“You don’t look like one,” he said.
It was something. The compliment made it hard to stay mad at Brute, especially given that he had saved her twice that day. He had a gruff manner, but he was looking out for her. Without him, where would she be? In the hands of Incognito, no doubt.
“I’d love something comfortable and warm,” she said. What they’d have access to would be limited, but they could issue her a pair of military sweats.
“She also needs shoes and a doctor,” he said.
The men saluted and left to acquire the items they had requested, she hoped.
Her foot was throbbing mildly. “I almost forgot about my foot.”
“Let me look at it.”
She sat on one of the cots, and he knelt on the floor in front of her, setting her foot on his knee. “It doesn’t look good.
