Landlocked (Atlas Link Series Book 2) (13 page)

remained silent for the entire car ride. Evidently their base of operations or whatever wasn’t far from Phoenix. Every now and then, Weyland asked me questions about SeaSat5’s disappearance. He knew the Navy had covered up what had really happened, especially since no one outside the senior staff knew the truth, period. But just because he used to run security for the satellite station didn’t mean he got rolling instant access to now-classified information.

“Oh, come on,” he said, eyes jumping between the rearview mirror and the road. “I was there when we were hijacked. I knew they had… stuff, you know? How much more classified could it get?”

Wasn’t Atlantis classified enough? “Trust me,” I said.

“Trevor told me some stuff.”

“Stuff?” Mara echoed. “Real specific.”

Weyland ignored her. “He kept us from acting because he feared they were…
you know
. Not normal.”

I wanted to ask Weyland if he knew their target was Lemurian. It’s possible the whole thing was a coincidence. Surely he’d realized the strength showed by that guy had matched Thompson and his crew. Right? Maybe he didn’t know that was who they’d been after tonight if he didn’t see the Lemurian’s mark. A Lemurian. The scar beneath my collarbone ached. I lifted a hand to rub out the memory of Thompson’s fire burning the Lemurian mark into my skin.

“It’s more than that. Trust me and drop it,” I said.

“What’s with all the secrets?” Mara asked. She flipped her jet-black bangs out of her face. She had to be at least thirty, but probably no more than thirty-five. She wore a black leather jacket over her club attire, which consisted of a short skirt, netted black tights, and a purple top.

“Like I said, she’s an old friend,” Weyland answered.

I didn’t remember quite making it to “friend” status with Weyland. “He liked to bust me for being places I shouldn’t have been back when we both worked for the Navy. He didn’t trust me as far as he could throw me.”

“That’s not necessarily true,” he argued.

I snorted, knowing better. “Whatever you say.”

Mara laughed. “You sure had Josh going, though. For a second I thought he’d forgotten we were on a job.”

“Careful, Mara,” Truman warned.

He speaks!

Truman was this lumbering sort of dude. Huge. All muscles and facial hair and bulky as hell.
Not
the kind of guy I’d ever want to be on the other end of a fight with. Especially if he wore a helmet and decided to go in battering-ram style.

Mara nudged me with her shoulder. “You weren’t buying into it at all?”

“Into what?” I asked her.

“Josh.”

“Mara,” Weyland said. He probably thought I was still with Trevor.
Hah
.

“I’m, uh. Look. He used me for a ruse,” I said. “So no.”

A wicked smile crossed Mara’s features. “You’re currently not, but did you?

I looked out the window to hide the satisfied smile growing on my lips. Oh hell yes I bought into it. I could still feel heat where his fingers had held my hips.

Sitting across from Lieutenant Adam Weyland in his new command’s version of an interrogation room felt an awful lot like the first day we’d met on board SeaSatellite5. Only this time, my snark meter skyrocketed through the roof, elevated by the frustration of being under military watch. At least I wasn’t cuffed this time. Maybe Weyland warned them cuffs wouldn’t do them any good.

I sat with my arms crossed and eyebrows raised, waiting for Weyland to tell me something I didn’t know.

“You interrupted a job,” he said.

I shrugged. “I do that a lot when you’re involved, wouldn’t you say?”

He tilted his head to the side as if to tell me to watch myself. That just because he and I were familiar with each other didn’t mean I could get away with everything.

I didn’t care. “Look, I don’t want to get caught up in this. I have enough going on as it is. Seriously, I was out for a drink and that’s it.”

“And now you know Lieutenant Weyland is in undercover work,” came a voice from beyond the glass. I didn’t recognize it, so it must have been Weyland’s commander.

Undercover work? Bullshit. General Holt would have chickens if he knew other people were chasing Lemurians around, much less a once-crewmember of SeaSat5.

Unless they
really
didn’t know that guy was Lemurian.

Oddly coincidental.

My eyes narrowed. I wish I’d asked what Weyland knew.

Opting for a different approach, I said, “Well that makes two of us SeaSat5 vets doing classified work nowadays, doesn’t it? I won’t blow your cover again, I promise. But I have to go. I’m on leave for two days, then I have to be back for an important briefing. Believe me, I’d much rather be here than at that thing, but alas….”

A sharp chill ran through me at the thought of being in the same room as Trevor after the Altern Device had linked us. And after last night. Had the distance between here and Ohio dulled the effects at all? I couldn’t hear him now. Hadn’t since last night. But once we were back together again, what was the possibility the telepathy would be gone for good?

“Lieutenant, would you join us, please?” came a response, once more, from behind the glass.

Weyland stood and left without so much as an eye roll, indicating I may have taken it a bit too far.

What the hell else was I supposed to do? This situation, while echoing how we met, wasn’t the same. I didn’t teleport onto classified Navy property. I went to a bar for a drink and a good time, and walked out being played by a soldier and seeing Weyland again. No mystery involved there.

I huffed and fell back against my seat. I pushed the thoughts away, but my mind circled back, drifting to memories of Captain Marks in hopes he would suddenly appear and save me from this mess like he had the first time. If he hadn’t been the kind captain he was and allowed Dr. Gordon to talk me into working with her, I’d probably be in jail for espionage or treason thanks to my accidental trespassing.

No one would just swoop in and save me this time, and I knew that. But maybe I could talk my way out of it. Or, worst-case scenario, I’d teleport out. Unless that’d make things messy for General Holt somehow.

A few minutes later, the door opened and Weyland, followed by another officer, entered. I stood when my eyes picked out the General insignia on his pressed and perfect uniform. The insignia also answered one of my questions. This wasn’t a civilian operation, but something told me it wasn’t entirely military-sanctioned, either.

“General,” I acknowledged.

“Ms. Danning.” He nodded at me and then sat in the chair Weyland had previously vacated. Weyland stood behind him. I retook my seat.

“You’re still here right now because Lieutenant Weyland has convinced me an offer extended to you might be better than asking you to outright forget what you saw,” the General said. His nametag read:
Walter S. Allen
. His head was completely bald and winkles encroached on his eyes.

It took most of my self-control to not look at Weyland when I asked, “What kind of offer?” The last time I took an offer involving Weyland, I ended up on a hijacked research station with powers.

General Allen placed his hands on the table, one holding the other. He was a tall man and built well. A career military sort of guy. “Weyland disclosed some information to me that leads him to believe that you would be a welcome addition to our cause.”

My eyes darted to Weyland, searing a glare into him so deep I hoped it physically burned him. “Oh, really.” Just what kind of details had he shared with everyone?

Weyland cleared his throat. “Your abilities weren’t classified, and given your predicament and the similarities to our first incident together, I attempted damage control without consulting you. For that, I apologize, but you’ll want to hear the General out.”

Asshat.
“Well thanks.” I looked back to General Allen. “What exactly is this,” I gestured around the room, “all about?”

General Allen didn’t look pleased by the spat between Weyland. This guy may be in control of my current situation, but he wasn’t my commander. Heck, I didn’t have one. Not really.

“This is TruGates. We’re a paramilitary group that rehabilitates soldiers and officers who come back from appointments too dangerous or otherwise classified to safely reintegrate with most of society,” General Allen explained. “We use those soldiers for other purposes.”

“SeaSat5 wasn’t dangerous—not until the end, anyway. Nor was it necessarily classified beyond reproach,” I pointed out.

“It was classified enough,” Weyland said. “Especially after it up and disappeared. You’ll have to fill me in on that later, Chelsea.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t you think if you were allowed to know, you’d know by now?” He hadn’t been on board when SeaSat5 was taken. He’d left for other work, for this place, a week before.

“I’ve been out of the loop, but not for the reasons you think.”

I shrugged. “Talk to Admiral Dennett then. That secret isn’t mine to share.”

“What happened is a cover story?” General Allen asked.

My gaze moved to him. The cover story rolled off my tongue easy these days, but something about this General Allen made me want to choose my next words carefully. Like if I said the wrong thing, he’d spontaneously combust and take me with him. “SeaSat5 is missing at sea with all hands on deck. I and one other crewmate were in Massachusetts when we got the call. Neither of us are aware of the exact details.”

“So the station is just… gone?” General Allen asked, like he’d expected more from me.

Annoyance tickled the back of my neck. I forced it down so I could properly apply my poker face. “Yes.”

He stared me down for a few moments. Weyland coughed purposely. I didn’t know what the General’s problem was since that’s the only story that ever left the walls of the Admiral’s office.

General Allen leaned back into his chair and said, “Weyland has informed me of your abilities, and I feel they may help with our mission to stop the violent, insidious mercenaries in our midst. They creep around every corner, waiting to carry out any number of agendas.”

“Like assassination to petty theft and arson?”

Weyland shot me a
be careful
look. Like I cared.