Breathless. Sharron McClellan

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СКАЧАТЬ found what she knew to be true—she’d checked out a training tool, not an actual, full-scale mine. “You know I would never be that careless.”

      He didn’t contradict her, but his attention remained focused on his shoes. She knew what he was thinking. She saw the uncertainty in the way his shoulders slumped and the way he refused to meet her eyes.

      He thought it was her fault.

      She sat down in her chair, resting her head in her hands. “I know what I signed for. I checked it. This is all wrong.”

      “Maybe you were in a hurry,” he offered.

      “No,” she shot back. She did not need anyone to make excuses for her. Especially one of her best friends. “I was not in a hurry. I know what I signed for, and that wasn’t it.”

      “I know. We all do.” Taylor sighed again, a man at a loss and caught between the differing sides of the stories. “Hang in there, cookie.”

      She smiled despite the frustration and shock. He hadn’t called her “cookie” since her days as a new recruit when she was a newbie and he was her trainer. “Thanks,” she said, squeezing his hand. He was still her best friend. And if there was one thing she knew, he might have doubts—hell, she had to admit she would if their places were reversed—but he would stand by her no matter what happened.

      That’s what people like Taylor did. They were rocks in a stormy sea. “You better go,” she said.

      “Yeah, if they spot me here they’ll be asking questions.”

      “With you so close to retirement, we can’t have that,” she said. “Catherine would never forgive me.” Jess loved Taylor’s wife but cheerfully admitted she was in awe of the petite redhead since anyone who could keep Taylor in line was a little scary.

      Taylor paused in the doorway. “I’ll see what else I can find out. Don’t count me out yet.”

      She met his steady gaze. “Never.”

      When the door closed, Jess leaned over, hands on her knees, as she absorbed the reality of her predicament. If convicted of sheer idiocy, she’d receive a dishonorable discharge at best.

      At worst—Leavenworth.

      It wouldn’t come to that, she told herself. She’d make sure of it.

      She straightened and returned to the computer. Once again, she tossed the letter in the wastebasket.

      This time, it could remain there.

      She turned the monitor back on and opened her e-mail program. There was the usual. Her parents. Something about buying land in Costa Rica. A notice requesting an alumni update at aa.gov—the Athena Academy Web site.

      Athena Academy. Her high school alma mater and where she’d spent her teen years. Normally, the teenage time frame from twelve to eighteen was reserved for angst, indecision and drama. Instead, the Academy, and its intense curriculum and supportive teachers, had made it challenging, empowering.

      It helped that while the school was an all-girls, private institution, entrance was based on merit. Not money. And there was no application for enrollment.

      They sought out the best and the brightest and offered them a full scholarship. So all the girls who attended were smart. Inventive. Talented and unique.

      She trailed her fingers down the screen, wondering what they would think of her if they knew her situation. Would they be disappointed? Worried?

      Pissed and eager to help?

      Damn, she missed them. Her friends. Her teachers. Even her much-loathed language classes.

      She missed it all.

      But above all, she missed the atmosphere. People believed in her. If Principal Evans was on the Inquiry Board—there would be no question as to the truth.

      “Principal Evans isn’t here,” she said to herself. “It’s just you.”

      She glanced down through the rest of her e-mail messages, coming to one from Nikki Bustillo, her best friend from the Academy and the one person she’d kept in touch with on a consistent basis.

      I heard what happened. Call as soon as you get home and let me know you’re okay.

      Jess wasn’t surprised that Nikki had gotten wind of the accident. A lieutenant in the Coast Guard, she always heard about ocean-related incidents.

      And what had happened to Jess was definitely in that category.

      Jess pulled out her cell phone.

      There weren’t that many people Jess was close to. Her ability to breathe underwater made her wary of letting others in. But Nikki was an enhanced human, as well—though her gift was different. She smelled emotions.

      Jess smiled. As best friends and schoolmates, Nikki’s gift was both a blessing and curse. When Jess had developed a schoolgirl crush on Johnny Depp, Nikki had figured it out by the scent. Said it smelled like socks after a soccer match.

      And she’d teased Jess. A little.

      However, Nikki had also known when Jess was homesick. Sad. Angry.

      Known and been there.

      Jess sighed. She could use Nikki’s counsel right now. Her support.

      Before she hit the speed dial, another e-mail popped in with a familiar beep. Jess snapped the phone closed. No subject line, but the unique sound told her it was from Delphi—her contact at Oracle, the secret agency with a computer network that matched intel from all the U.S. agencies and assigned projects to people like her when needed.

      The e-mail was dated prior to her accident.

      Jess, a word of warning. We have reason to believe that you are being targeted by Arachne, an enemy of Athena Academy. We’re not sure what Arachne is planning but be watchful.

      The chill she’d felt when Taylor told her about the limpet mine grew stronger with the solid confirmation that she’d been framed. Clicking the e-mail closed, Jess leaned back, gazing up at the ceiling and letting the reality sink in that if she had bothered to check her e-mail, the whole situation might have been prevented.

      Charles might be alive.

      She’d been in a hurry the day of the accident, and her computer had locked up. Instead of rebooting and checking messages, she’d turned it off and left.

      Probably nothing but spam, she’d told herself.

      “Not spam. A boy’s life.” She pressed her palms against her eyes, forcing herself not to cry. If she’d looked…if she’d taken the time… Her hands slid down to her mouth as she tried to come to grips with the news, her head telling her that it wasn’t her fault.

      Her heart feeling otherwise.

      The phone rang, jarring her. “Damn it.” Now wasn’t the time. She wiped her eyes, blew her breath out through tight lips and picked up the receiver.

      “Good СКАЧАТЬ