Forged in Smoke (A Red-Hot SEALs Novel Book 3) (24 page)

Rawls stared at the computer screen displaying the Doppler echocardiogram of Faith’s heart. Like the EKG printout, it indicated a healthy, completely regenerated muscle. Full function of the left ventricle—with a normal ejection fraction of over seventy-five percent. The speed and strength of the electrical pulses passing through the cardio muscle on the electrocardiogram had been well within the normal range too. The electrical pulses had been strong, steady, with no suggestion of tachycardia. The ultrasound hadn’t picked up any abnormalities in the organ’s musculature—exterior or interior.

Unbelievable.

Every test showed a perfect heart, in prime condition.

No evidence of a heart transplant. No indication of ventricular tachycardia—sweet Jesus, no sign of tachycardia at all.

“As you can see,” Dr. Kerry said, reaching out to slide a finger down the computer screen, “the left ventricle and atrium show no sign of the previous atrophy or damage.”

With a slight nod, Rawls switched his attention to the second monitor with an image of Faith’s heart taken almost a year earlier. The image showed distinct diminishing of function of the left ventricle. If he hadn’t known the films were of the same heart, he would have thought they’d been taken from two separate people.

He didn’t ask how they’d managed to acquire a copy of Faith’s medical history, including all the results from her latest physical, or how they’d managed to get their hands on the file so quickly—for Christ’s sake, they’d had it on hand before Faith had even stepped through their medical-bay doors. The medical facility, along with the impressive array of equipment it housed, was positive proof Wolf’s people could get their hands on pretty much anything they deemed necessary. Including Faith’s prescriptions, as her meds had been waiting for her too.

They’d stepped off the helicopter into a huge aircraft-parking zone, and from there, he and Faith, along with Amy and her kids, had been shuttled across the massive facility to the medical wing. The last two hours had been one round of tests after another. He hadn’t seen Cosky, Zane, or Mac since disembarkment, and when he asked, Dr. Kerry had said they were with the
beniinookee.
Further explanation had identified the word as one meaning a high-ranking officer, which could mean Wolf—or whomever Wolf reported to
. . .
if he reported to anyone.

Faith’s hand slipped into his and clung. She cleared her throat. “I don’t understand. How can it be completely normal now? This doesn’t make sense. They sewed that heart inside my chest. There has to be evidence of that.”

You’d think so
. . .
but there wasn’t.

Far too aware of the warm, soft weight of Faith’s hand cradled in his, Rawls tried to concentrate on the conversation. She sounded shell-shocked. He didn’t blame her.

Admitting that her heart may have stopped and that Kait might have gotten it beating again had been hard enough for her.

But this
. . .
sweet Jesus, this took Kait’s ability into an entirely new realm.

Intellectually, he’d known there had to be some insanely strong mojo in Kait’s hands. She’d healed the damage from those bullets to his chest, after all. Even dragged him back from the dead.

But seeing the miraculous results of her healing power on the screen took it out of the abstract and into the here and now.

“Now that we have a baseline for your heart, we can move on to the exertion testing,” Kerry said, pushing his glasses up with his forefinger. He turned from the bank of computer screens to smile at Faith. “Later today we’ll get you on a treadmill and hook you up for monitoring, take a look at that heart of yours in action. But so far everything looks normal.”

He turned back to the screen to survey both sets of images before shaking his head, an expression of awe creeping across his face. “It’s remarkable, Commander, the strength of your sister’s ability. She’s markedly stronger than Will or One Bird.”

Commander? Obviously the doctor wasn’t addressing him. He turned, unsurprised to find Wolf standing behind them, his huge body swallowing what little space remained in the computer room.

And then Kerry’s comment registered.

Sister? Kait was Wolf’s sister?

Well shit, of course she was. How could he have been so obtuse? The facial resemblance was strong, now that he’d thought to look for it.

After a second of studying the two computer screens, Wolf appeared to dismiss them. Shifting slightly, he caught Rawls’s eye. “Walk with me.”

The words weren’t a request, but Wolf wasn’t his priority. He turned back to the radiologist.

“When are you doin’ the stress test?” He’d make certain he was there when they strapped those sensors to Faith’s chest and cranked up the treadmill.

Faith’s hand, which had been still as a frightened bird within his own grip, stirred and squeezed his fingers.

“Later this afternoon?” The lift in the man’s tone turned the words into a question. “I’m sure Dr. Ansell would like to get some rest. And I have a couple of patients I need to check on.”

A radiologist making rounds? Rawls reassessed this guy’s role at the facility. He was obviously a hell of a lot more than a simple radiologist, as Wolf had introduced him. But then
. . .
Rawls turned to consider the man waiting patiently behind him. Wolf was a hell of a lot more than a simple commander too.

Maybe taking that walk with their host would give him a better sense of what kind of organization they were dealing with. At the moment, the only thing he knew for sure was their hosts were exceptionally well stocked on everything from weaponry to aircraft to medical equipment.

Hell, the medical bay was as well-equipped as any high-tech hospital. Their ultrasound, X-ray, CAT scan, and MRI machines were all the current incarnations within an ever-changing technology. And from what he’d seen of the lab— Which reminded him . . .

“They find anythin’ in Brendan or Benji’s bloodwork?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at Wolf.

They’d scanned the children for microchips or implants while he’d been waiting for Faith to return from the last round of testing. According to Amy, they hadn’t found anything inserted into her sons’ flesh
. . .
however, following a routine blood test, they’d found an anomaly in the red and white blood cells.

They’d taken the boys to the lab for additional testing.

A grim shadow fell over Wolf’s normally taciturn face. “A genetically modified biological isotope was found in their blood cells. This compound appears to have bonded with every cell in their bodies.”

An engineered biological compound?

“They’re usin’ this compound to follow the kids?”

“It appears so,” Dr. Kerry said. He sighed and scrubbed at his forehead. “The isotope is siphoning off the cells’ electrical impulses and using them to power a high-frequency signal. If the people who injected the compound know the frequency the isotope emits, theoretically they could locate and follow it.”

Considering how quickly their camp had been attacked after the kids’ arrival, there was nothing theoretical about it.

“Sweet Jesus.” Rawls’s throat tightened. “They’re just kids. What’s wrong with those people?”

You didn’t target children. You sure as hell didn’t fill their bodies with experimental chemical shit. If the isotope was hijacking the electrical output, the cells would break down much faster. As more and more cells failed, the health of the host would decline.

Those Goddamn bastards had effectively condemned two children to a prolonged and likely agonizing death.

He took a deep breath and forced the rage back. There had to be a way to counteract the compound they’d been injected with.

“Can the isotope be neutralized?” Rawls asked.

“We’re looking into that.” Kerry’s gaze shifted back to the MRI of Faith’s heart on the monitor. “Along with other possibilities.”

Wolf dropped a heavy hand on Rawls’s shoulder. “Walk with me. There is much to discuss.”

“Such as?”

“Your
biitei
.” Wolf’s hooded black gaze dropped to the leather cord circling Rawls’s neck.

“The
hiixoyooniiheiht
seems to be holdin’ it at bay,” Rawls said, feeling the slight burn of the colorful amulet beneath his T-shirt.

Faith fixed determined eyes on Wolf’s face. “These charms are fascinating. I understand only the person who mak— creates them, is aware of how they work. I’d like to speak with whoever this person is. Perhaps—”

The shoulder Wolf turned on her was answer enough, and she stumbled into silence.

Rawls remained silent, but he had questions as well. Wearing the thing triggered the strangest sensation, not just the scratchy burn, but the way it vibrated every now and then. When it quivered, the burning intensified, never enough to prove painful, but enough to be noticeable. He hoped that meant it was working and Pachico’s reign of frustration was officially over.

Wolf turned back to Rawls. “This
biitei
took orders from your enemy. Is this not true?”

“He worked for them, if that’s what you’re gettin’ at.”

“Then it carries answers to many of our questions.” Thick black eyebrows rose in a quizzical expression. “Does it not?”

Rawls shrugged. “He’s not exactly forthcomin’ with what he knows.”

Hell, Pachico had bled out without giving up any of his knowledge. And death hadn’t softened his disposition. Why would he answer their questions now, when they had nothing with which to entice him or hold over his head in threat?

“Even if the
biitei
”—Rawls said the word carefully—“decided to answer our questions, we couldn’t trust what it tells us. He wasn’t much help alive; he’s even less help dead.”

Wolf’s smile was slow and deadly. “Your
biitei
will answer the questions you put to it and speak with truth.”

“How can you possibly promise that? It just has to say no thanks and vamoose,” Faith protested.

Wolf shrugged, his gaze never leaving Rawls’s face. “The binding ceremony will give it no choice. It will answer your questions. It will speak the truth.”

“The binding ceremony?” Faith repeated with interest in her voice. “Is that along the same lines as this?” She nodded toward the amulet beneath Rawls’s shirt.

For the first time, Wolf looked uneasy. It reminded Rawls of Jude’s expression in the cavern when he’d quizzed him on how the amulet worked.

“It is best not to speak of such strong medicine,” Wolf said. He turned back to Rawls, his expression flat. “The elders are preparing for the ceremony. You will call the
biitei
once the circle has closed.”

Yeah
. . .
Rawls had no idea what the guy had just said or whether this binding ceremony, whatever it was, would work—but what the heck, it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try. Besides, Wolf and his people certainly knew a lot more about the workings of ghosts than he did.

“Fine. When do you want to do this?”

“Soon. I will return when they are ready for you.” With that announcement, Wolf pivoted and disappeared out the swinging door. When the door swung back open, Zane came through it.

He paused just inside the viewing room and nodded at Faith, but his flat, unreadable gaze never budged from Rawls’s face. “You got a minute?”

Faith caught Rawls’s gaze, her own eyes soft and filled with sympathy. No question that she’d picked up on how much he’d been dreading this moment.

The fallout from his admission had been postponed by Wolf’s arrival and the withdrawal from the hub. But it had been clear a reckoning was in his future. This seemed hardly the time to settle things. But the confrontation was upon him and he wasn’t going to bail on it.

Rawls gave Faith’s hand a squeeze and let it go. He followed Zane out of the control room and through the medical bay. The electric entrance slid open and then closed behind them with an airy whoosh, expelling them into a diminutive, gun-metal gray parking area of maybe twenty by twenty-five feet. Most of the striped parking slots, which were barely large enough to accommodate the facility’s golf carts and ATVs, sat empty beneath the sputtering glow of a malfunctioning fluorescent light. Zane paused to scan the deserted backdrop before swinging around to face him.

Rawls braced himself.

“Mac wants to huddle.”

Okay, that wasn’t what he’d been expecting. “When?”

“Tonight. After we’ve had a chance to look things over. Keep your eyes open, and your ears sharp.”

Rawls simply nodded. The order was redundant. By now, years into their careers, it was impossible to turn their scrutiny off. Hell, his eyes were open and his ears sharp while snacking at a company barbeque.

“This is why you’ve been climbing the walls? This ghost?” Zane abruptly asked, his face neutral. Voice calm.

And there it was.

“Pretty much,” Rawls admitted, holding his LC’s eyes steadily.

Zane frowned, shook his head, a glint of anger sparking in his eyes. “You forget who the fuck I am?”

Rawls pulled back, opened his mouth. How was he supposed to answer that?

“For Christ’s sake, you ass. You’ve trusted my visions for years. Trusted me without question, without corroborating evidence, without proof—why the hell wouldn’t you give me the same benefit of doubt when it came to what you were seeing?”

Rawls’s mouth slammed shut. He grimaced. Rolled his shoulders. “It’s not the same thing.”

“Bullshit.” There was a glint of anger in Zane’s eyes as they touched his face.

“It isn’t,” Rawls pointed out tightly. “Your visions happen. There’s your proof.”

“You didn’t know that the first time you acted on them,” Zane snapped back. “You trusted me. I trusted you. That’s what saved our asses back then.”

Fair point. But still, Pachico was different. The whole situation was different. “You knew what you were seeing was real. Was about to happen.”

Zane cocked his head, reined the anger in. “And?”

“I didn’t. Hell, for days I was certain I’d had a psychotic break. Certain the bastard was a product of my broken mind.”

The anger faded from Zane’s face. He ran a hand over his hair. “You should have told me.”