Chasing Yesterday #2
Betrayal
JD is on the run, searching for answers about her past, and about the dangerous powers she can't seem to control. She knows she can't trust the memories implanted in her mind by the mysterious Dr. Styron, but they still feel real--and they won't stop haunting her. JD and Daniel must race to uncover the truth and unlock the dark secrets in her brain...before it's too late.
This time, there would be no escape.
The girl was close. He knew it. Even without the GPS-synched tracking device, he would have known. He didn't need the insistent blinking light that locked down her coordinates, closer, closer, closer still. He could feel her presence. He didn't need hte machines any more than he needed the men, his cowardly troops gripping their tranquilizer guns, their eyes betraying their fear.
She was, after all, just a girl. She had power, true. But he had more
Dangerous as she was--and now, lost, scared, out of control, she was more dangerous than ever--he had no doubt that he could find her and capture her. This was more than pride; this was certainty. He knew the girl better than anyone, knew what she was capable of. Knew her weaknesses and how to use them. She was, after all, his creation, the pinnacle of his achievement; and he was her master. Despite recent setbacks, that was still true. That would always be true.
Only a few days before, he'd almost gotten past her defenses, almost drawn her back into the fold. Before, he'd done it on his own, without the trackers, without the men, without the guns.
But before, there had been time.
And now time was running out.
There was no margin for error. They would trap her before she had a chance to flee. Before she had a chance to fight.
Yes, his time was running out.
But so was hers.
"We're in range, sir," the voice in his headset reported. Itw as competent and level, as emotionless as a robot. And just as obedient. "Target is less than five hundred yards away. Our men are in position."
The doctor smiled.
He was known by many names. But he liked it best when they called him "sir," a note of respect in their voice and, beneath it, a tremble of fear. Awake, the girl had called him "Dr. Styron," and in the end, she had defied him. But asleep, under his control, she had called him "sir." And she had always obeyed.
Almost always, he reminded himself.
"Waiting for your signal," said the voice in his headset. He stared out the bulletproof tinted windows of the SUV.
They were under orders not to hurt the girl. The boy who was with her was unwanted debris. No one would notice if he disappeared. But the girl was to be brought back intact. She was worth nothing to him dead.
He was prepared, everything was in place--and he had already waited too long.
"Go."
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