Voice (22 page)

“Then who is it? Police? Government? Someone else entirely?” Jemma closed her eyes, trying to slow her breathing. “I can’t do this, Jack. We had the police with us to keep this from happening again. This wasn’t supposed to happen. We weren’t supposed to be taken. I was just starting to feel normal again.” She felt the reassurance he was sending, but instead of helping like it normally did, it just angered her further. She opened her eyes. “We should be able to enjoy ourselves, Jack. We shouldn’t be trapped in the back of a car, yet again.” She let go of his hand so she could lean forward, ignoring the throbbing in her arm so she could bang on the glass separator with both hands. “Hey! Who are you? Where are you taking us? You can’t
do
this! You have to tell us
something
! This isn’t right! We were
finished
with this!”

Jack wrapped his arms around her torso to pull her back against his chest, cradling her carefully against him while she broke apart in his embrace.

“We’ll get through this, Jemma,” he whispered when she started calming down. “We always do.”

“We shouldn’t have to.” The fire had left Jemma, and she felt her words dragging. She pulled away from Jack, not wanting to look at him after her tears, wiping her face on the sleeve of her good arm, forcing her attention away from the sharp, throbbing pain in her other arm. She looked out the window, but her eyes refused to focus through the dark tinting, and she couldn’t tell where they were. Minutes passed in silence, and she was aware of Jack watching her, though he didn’t reach for her as he probably wanted to.

Finally, she turned to look at him, and his brown eyes locked onto hers immediately. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “You were right about everything you said. We shouldn’t be going through this again. Even if this isn’t Tricorp BioD and it’s one of the ‘good guys’? They’re going to be hearing it all over again, as soon as we get wherever we’re going.”

Jemma nodded. She hesitated, drained, then shifted so she could lean back against him without the seat belts getting in the way too badly. He wrapped his arms around her, and she closed her eyes, hoping they weren’t far from their destination.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR:

Travel

It was fully dark outside before the car finally came to a stop. Jemma counted the long seconds before the doors opened, forcing herself to stay seated while waiting. She’d gotten to a hundred and eighteen before she once again saw two of the suited men.

They’d opened the doors in nearly perfect synchronization, one on each side of the car. Jemma unbuckled and slid out, pain keeping her from crossing her arms as she followed the man on her side. Jack and the other joined them, the four walking through an empty parking lot toward a small, unmarked building. It was hard to see details in the dark, but it looked almost like the clubhouse buildings some neighborhoods used to host get-togethers. A glance around her, though, showed they appeared to be nowhere near other buildings or houses, as best she could see in the night.

“Where are we?” she demanded.

The man in front of her shook his head. “We’ll speak inside.”

The men weren’t facing them. It was dark. Jemma toyed with the idea of making a run for the tree line, but her eyesight would be a major handicap in navigating the woods right now. Aside from that, she needed answers. Jaw clenched, she continued to follow them into the building.

When they walked inside, lights came on automatically, and Jemma blinked repeatedly to clear her vision. When she could see again, Jack was next to her, and the suited men were waiting. There was an empty desk in front of her, where a receptionist might sit. She could tell—not through their connection but from the way he leaned toward her, one hand loosely by his side despite the tension—that Jack wanted to touch her, to offer her comfort. He held back, though, as they followed the men into a windowless sitting area, respecting the way she held herself, stiff, upright, contained.

She needed what control she could get, even if that was as simple as not letting herself be touched.

Jemma sat on the loveseat without a word, and Jack sat next to her. She watched as the men sat across from them in individual chairs, the sort that were more decorative than comfortable.

“Who are you?” Jemma asked, wishing again she could cross her arms without pain. “Why did you bring us here?”

“We’re federal agents,” the one in front of her answered. “I’m Agent Klein. This is Agent O’Hannigan.”

“Agents from which branch?” she asked.

An eyebrow raised, Agent Klein responded. “Does it make a difference?”

Did it make a difference? She didn’t really know the different functions of the federal agencies, wouldn’t be able to say what the CIA did differently than the FBI, but she was tired of being in the dark.

At her hesitation, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, handing it to Jemma. She unfolded it and saw an official-looking letter from Private Investigator Payton, instructing them to go along with the agents, reassuring her that he’d verified their legitimacy and it was in their best interest to listen.

“I’m listening,” she said, handing the paper to Jack. It wouldn’t hurt to listen to what they had to say, even if she ultimately decided she didn’t trust her newest kidnappers, and maybe they would provide actual answers, not continue delaying and avoiding.

“We’re putting you in protective custody,” said Agent Klein.

“What?” Jack sounded surprised.

“Why now?” Jemma leaned forward. “Why not when everything came out a week ago?”

“Some new information has come to light, and we no longer believe you are safe at home.”

“What new information?” she demanded.

“We’re not at liberty to say.” Next to Agent Klein, Agent O’Hannigan remained silent.

Jemma shook her head. “Why would we agree to go into protective custody when you won’t even tell us why? We’ll cooperate better with real information, not all this vague avoidance.” Jack nodded his agreement.

The agent sighed. “We have reason to believe you’re right about the fact that Tricorporation Biochemical Dynamics still has people at large who may do you harm. Investigation into a recent disappearance suggests there may be a connection.”

“Disappearance? You mean the senator?” Jemma watched for a reaction, but his face remained impassive as he responded.

“We’re not at liberty to say. I’ve already explained as much as I can on that front.”

“He has to be talking about Senator Pratt,” Jack sent silently. Jemma sat back, taking his hand and sending agreement.

Jemma continued. “What sort of custody are we talking about? Do you mean we get new identities, or are we going to jail?”

“You’ll have temporary identities established. We’ll provide credit cards, identification, and a place to stay. Otherwise, you’ll need to lay low until you receive the all clear. Act normal, don’t do anything to draw suspicion to you. Go with a basic backstory that you can remember in case you’re there long enough to need consistency.”

“Will there be actual protection, or are we basically just hiding?” Jack asked.

“There’s another agent in the vicinity, but if all goes as expected, you won’t ever need to meet.”

“What about our families?” Jemma remembered her father’s disappointment, the fact that her mother was expecting them for dinner later that week. “Will they be safe?”

“We have no reason to believe they are in any danger. We will be monitoring them and take action if that changes.”

“We need to call and tell them we’re okay. I’m not doing this to them again, disappearing without saying anything.” Jemma felt Jack’s support.

Agent Klein frowned. “You can call them now, before we take your phones or tell you where you’re going. If you contact them after you arrive, you’ll do it only on approved electronics, and you’ll avoid giving them names or locations.”

Jemma nodded and got her phone back out of her pocket. As she watched, the phone connected to the service provider, and she caught Agent O’Hannigan putting something back into his Jacket. She dialed her mother’s cell phone, standing and stepping away while Jack called his father. Jemma was unsurprised when Carolyn answered almost immediately.

“Jemma? Jemma, are you okay? We saw the news, and then nobody could get ahold of you or Jack. Jilly went to wait with Don until we heard something.”

“I’m okay, Mom.” She glanced at the agents and continued. “We weren’t allowed to use our phones, and we’ll need to give them up in a minute. We’re not going completely silent this time, though.” Jemma reached to rub her arm, fighting a groan when the movement triggered shooting pain.

“What’s going on, Jemma? You aren’t making any sense.” She could hear her father speaking in the background but couldn’t make out what he was saying.

“We’re going into basically a temporary witness protection program. We have to hide for a little while.”

Carolyn was silent for several seconds. “I’m glad they’re finally stepping up and doing something right. Is it because you went on the news?”

“I don’t think so, not exactly.”

Carolyn’s voice was muffled as she relayed the information to Matt before speaking to Jemma again. “We’re glad you were able to call. You said you don’t have to go completely silent. Does that mean you’ll still be able to call?”

Jemma nodded, even though she knew her mother couldn’t see. “They said we can call as long as we do it right and don’t give out any information. I’m guessing whatever we’re allowed to call on won’t let you call us.” She looked at Agent Klein for confirmation, and he gave a nod, then tapped his wrist.

“I need to go, Mom. I love you. Give Dad and Jilly hugs for me.”

“We love you, Jemma.”

The phone blurred as Jemma hung up, and she blinked until her vision cleared as much as it could, then returned to the couch as Jack sat.

“What about the others?” Jack asked. “Is this just for us, or is it for everyone who Tricorp held?”

“Everyone we deemed as being at risk,” he answered, in the same tone he’d used earlier to indicate he wasn’t willing or able to go into more detail.

He stood and handed them each a thick, padded envelope from inside his jacket. “Everything you’ll need is in there: bus tickets, wallets with cards and ID and a little bit of cash, approved cell phones, house key. I need your phones, wallets, anything you’re carrying that could track or identify you.”

They handed over their phones, and Jack his wallet; Jemma’s was in her purse, which she’d left in the car back at the news station, not wanting to have to keep track of it.

“This wasn’t the way to do this.” Jemma looked down at the closed envelope as she spoke. “Taking us like this. Taking away our choice when you know what we’ve already been through.”

“We were doing our jobs.” She looked up at Agent O’Hannigan, who’d finally broken his silence. “Jobs you made harder by pulling that live broadcast stunt.”

“If someone had actually spoken to us, told us anything, we might not have had to do that,” Jemma snapped, feeling her envelope bend in her grip. “Nobody was listening to us, and we had to make someone listen. We couldn’t let that happen again. And there were ways around scaring us, around forcing us into the back of your car.” She slowed, her jaw clenching before she continued. “It wasn’t right.”

There was silence until Agent Klein spoke again. “The bus leaves just after midnight, and you’ll reach Houston late morning. Take a cab once you’re there; you’ll find the address on your ID.”

***

They drove longer, stopping once for gas, and by the time the agents dropped them off at the unfamiliar bus station, they barely had enough time to board before the bus was ready to go.

Jemma wondered whether the agents had driven in circles to time it that way.

“So, who are you?” Jack asked as the bus pulled away, opening the brown wallet that had been in his envelope; it had been too dark in the car to investigate. “They kept my initials. I’m Jordan Holloway.”

Jemma took the white wallet from her envelope, shoving the phone and key into her pocket. “Jessica Tucker.” She studied the license. “Do our phones have internet? I didn’t check. We can see what the place we’ll be living looks like.”

Jack looked at his phone and shook his head. “I think they do, but we don’t have reception here. Hopefully we will at our destination. Some computers at the house would be nice, too. I’m assuming it’s furnished.”

His tone was light, and Jemma shifted to put her wallet in her back pocket before addressing him silently. “You seem okay with this.”

He reached for her hand, caressing it with his thumb and closing his eyes. Before she could ask why he hadn’t responded, she felt him widen their connection, letting as much emotion show through as he could, along with vague impressions her mind somehow made sense of. It wasn’t as strong as it had been the last time, before their telepathy had been lessened, but she could tell he wasn’t holding back.

Jack was nervous. He didn’t want to leave, but he was glad they’d be safe, glad
she
would be safe, glad they would be together. He was worried about his dad.