Masked (18 page)

They entered Ludwig’s office. A group of people stood by the fireplace. Roman ignored the look Eve cast them, focusing on Ludwig’s approach.

“There you two are,” he said, smiling. “Everything okay?”

“Perfect,” he muttered.

Ludwig walked past him to Bridgette, cupping her face in the familiar way he would Lottey. Roman stiffened, but Bridgette kept her composure.

“And what about you, Di?” he said. “Eventful day?”

Bridgette laughed wearily. “To say the least,” she said.

Ludwig’s mouth pressed into a line like it always did when he was unhappy. He might have destroyed most of Europe, and killed millions, but Roman knew for a fact that the man genuinely cared for Lottey. “We’ll talk about it later,” he said softly.

He turned to face the others just as Sal walked up to shake Roman’s hand. Apparently their arms dealers had arrived ahead of time. They were expecting it, just not today. Not when they had just dealt with an array of shit.

“Roman,” he greeted.

“Sal,” Roman replied, shaking his hand.

“Dinah,” he said, turning to Bridgette. They shook hands, and once again Roman could feel every muscle in his body tense. A scumbag like Sal shouldn’t be touching a girl like her. It made Roman incredibly angry. Get a hold of yourself, he commanded. The last thing he needed was to out her in front of everyone.

Sal stepped back, shoving his hands casually into his pockets. His black hair was gelled back off his face, his prominent nose crooked from an old break. His skin was dark from the sun, something they didn’t see much of here in New Berlin. Roman had never felt easy around the man, and now that Bridgette was there he felt downright hostile.

“I hear ya been havin’ some trouble up here,” Sal said, smirking.

“Minor issues,” Ludwig said, waving him off. “Nothing we can’t handle.”

Sal didn’t look convinced. “These rebels just blew up your warehouse, Ludwig. I’d say that’s a bit more than a minor issue. Seems to me they’re gettin’ mighty ballsy.”

“We’re handling it,” Roman said darkly.

Sal laughed, splaying his hands in front of him. “Makes no difference to me, boys. These rebels keep blowin’ up your stuff, just means more business on my part. How much did yas lose today?”

“We’re not sure yet,” Ludwig answered. Deep lines bracketed his mouth. He wasn’t happy. “Our clean-up crew is still working through the debris. Your newest shipment was in the basement, so it survived the fire.”

Sal looked back at Eve who was pretending not listen. “Good thing for that. Can’t say I’d be too happy to arrive here and find out I was down a man.”

“Our men also got out alive,” Roman said, “if you care to know.”

Sal snickered. “Right,” he smirked. “Good to know.” He and Roman stared at each other for a tense moment before Sal looked back to Ludwig. Roman
really
didn’t like this guy. “When is the shipment going to be moved to another location so we can go over what I have?”

“Tomorrow morning,” said Ludwig.

Sal nodded. “Good. Then we’ll go get some rest, since we’ve had a long flight, and we can pick this up tomorrow.” He signalled to the others to follow him out, pausing at the door. “By the way, what news from across the ocean?”

Roman saw out of the corner of his eye, Bridgette look between Sal and Ludwig in confusion. This was information she couldn’t know about. Other than dragging her out of the room suddenly, alerting the others that something was wrong, what could he really do? He tensed, waiting to see what might be said.

Ludwig waved this off too. “All under control.”

Sal grunted. “Warehouses blowing up, trucks hijacked…you seem to have everything under control,” he said challengingly.

“I do,” Ludwig replied, his eyes hard. Sal stood there for another moment before nodding and walking out. As soon as he was gone, Roman let out a breath of relief.

“He’s getting more annoying,” Ludwig said, walking over to sit behind his desk.

“I believe his head is getting too big for his body,” Roman said dryly, taking one of the seats in front of him. Bridgette moved to take the other.

“I’d say,” Ludwig remarked. “Unfortunately there aren’t very many weapons dealers out there with the supply he has.” He opened a drawer, taking out one of his cigars he reserved for abnormally stressful days. The smell permeated the air a second later. Roman loved the fragrance of cigars, but didn’t smoke them himself. They sat in silence as Ludwig puffed a few times, lost in his own thoughts, before he looked over at Bridgette.

“Tell me what happened today,” he said.

Bridgette fidgeted in her seat. “Well, I was watching Roman go inside the building, and then all of a sudden two people appeared behind me and tried to drag me back into the alley.”

“This was before the van?” Ludwig asked.

Bridgette nodded. This was the first Roman had heard of it.

“Did they say anything?” Roman said.

She shook her head. “No, just started pulling at me. I got free and started running back toward the building when I felt a prick in my arm. One of them shot me with a dart. The rest is a little fuzzy. I know I was thrown into a van because that’s where I was when I woke up.”

“You couldn’t have been out long,” Ludwig said, eyebrows pulled together. “Our men caught up to you not long after you were taken. I was told you were awake when they found you.”

“I was,” she confirmed. “I woke up inside the van. I have no idea how long I was out. They seemed surprised that the drugs hadn’t knocked me out for longer. One of them said something about the injections, or treatments, something like that. Said that might be why the drugs were working out of my system quicker. I have no idea what they were talking about.”

Ludwig sat back, a strange expression on his face. “Well that explains one thing,” he muttered.

“What’s that?” Roman asked.

“They were definitely Douglas Hatcher’s men.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I just know,” he said in that voice that offered no further questions. “What else did they say?” he asked, looking to Bridgette.

“They started arguing about what to do. I guess your – our – men caught up by then. One of the tires blew out, and then they decided to push me out of the van in hopes you wouldn’t follow them any more if they didn’t have me.”

Ludwig snorted. “They’re idiots. One survived, but he’s been unconscious since he was brought in. Apparently the van rolled quite a few times.” He chuckled. “Idiots and poor drivers. Looks like Douglas needs to start finding better soldiers for his little army of misfits. I’ll question him in the morning. I think you both need to get to bed.”

Bridgette nodded, getting up. Roman could see the fatigue in the set of her shoulders. All he wanted to do was walk her back to her room, but he knew that was a bad idea. If he got anywhere near her bedroom again, he probably wouldn’t be able to control himself. She needed rest.

“Roman, you stay back for a minute, I need to talk to you privately,” Ludwig said.

“Of course,” Roman said, relieved he had a reason to stay now. He had a gut feeling his restraint was going to be extremely weak when it came to Bridgette. Even though he had already been telling himself not to walk her back, his body was gearing up to do just that. What was she doing to him? Bridgette waved goodnight to them and left in silence.

“What’s going on?” he asked, turning back to Ludwig once she was out of the room.

Ludwig sighed then took a long drag of his cigar. “I need to fill you in on something about our troublesome Douglas Hatcher.”

“Something Lottey can’t hear?” he said.

Ludwig looked at the door where Bridgette just disappeared. “I’m not sure if she should know,” he admitted. “To be honest, I’ve been fighting with that decision since the day you brought her to me.”

“Why?”

Ludwig looked at him. “Because I’ve already disrupted her adult life, I don’t want to ruin her childhood too.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

What did he have to do to get competent people working for him? Obviously these men were idiots. It didn’t take long to get the report back that the three men Douglas had sent out to retrieve Bridgette not only failed in getting her, but also ended up getting themselves killed, all save one. Douglas had no doubt Ludwig would be questioning the survivor on why they had tried to kidnap his Weapon X.

Douglas walked to the window, staring out at the empty streets of the upper section. They were hiding right under Ludwig Tennebris’ nose, and he didn’t even know it. The air was starting to get gradually cooler, fall just around the corner. Getting the upper hand on the New World leader was taking longer than he’d like. It was time to put things in motion, but to do so with confidence he wanted both daughters by his side. Especially now that he realized Bridgette was far more talented than he’d thought all these years.

The other soldiers weren’t coming along as nicely. He wasn’t sure why. Some of the other scientists suggested perhaps it was a gender thing. Douglas threw that idea around in his brain for a while. It could make sense, he reasoned. The testosterone levels could be affecting the treatments, possibly accounting for the high levels of aggression. He wasn’t quite sure though. A few more test subjects would confirm it.

His daughters, however, both showed signs that the treatments did what they were supposed to do. He just needed them back in his hands so he could run a few tests. He slammed a hand against the glass, rattling it. He’d had them both and let them slip through his fingers. If only he hadn’t sent Bridgette to the NWO headquarters with that foolish plan to bomb it. What had he been thinking?

“Sir?”

Douglas turned to look at John. “Anything?”

John shook his head. “Not a word. We have no idea who set up those explosives. We’re pretty positive it couldn’t have been McKay and the others. They wouldn’t have access to the materials that were used, especially not so soon.”

He’d already come to that conclusion, but he didn’t comment. He needed to take the men that had left with Pete McKay out of the equation, and fast. There was no room on the board for more players. Which begged the question – who had bombed the warehouse? Perhaps it had been the group from the western ghetto. He doubted it though. They hardly did a thing. He liked to think of them as a group of children, pretending to be rebels for show. There was no real threat there.

“Leave the bombing for now,” Douglas told him. “We need to double our efforts to get Bridgette back. Start preparing another team.”

“Yes, General.”

His daughter could try and hide behind the NWO all she wanted, but it wouldn’t keep him away for long. He
would
have her back, and her little sister, and then they would see how truly brilliant their father was. It was only a matter of time.

Bridgette moaned into her pillow. Every muscle, every limb, every hair on her body ached. How was she supposed to get out of bed? Pulling the covers up under her chin, she decided she just wouldn’t. Weapon X was allowed to have a day off, wasn’t she? Surely being tossed around in a van the day before was reason enough to lie in bed all day.

A soft knock came at her door. With a loud groan, she pulled herself out of bed and hobbled toward it. Roman stood outside, a wry grin lifting one side of his mouth.

“Sore?” he asked.

Bridgette blinked a few times, ordering her mind to get a hold of itself. Just seeing him had sent her thoughts spiralling. He looked so good in the morning light. His hair was tied back from his face, those deep blue eyes watching her knowingly. She kept her gaze away from his mouth, especially now that she knew what that mouth felt like against hers.

His eyebrows rose. Right, he asked a question. “Sore doesn’t begin to describe it,” Bridgette answered, dragging her body back to bed. She fell face down on it, her cries of pain muffled by her pillow. She could hear him chuckling as he closed the door behind him. The click of the latch sounded ominous inside the small confines of the room, locking them inside together. Her heart picked up speed.

“I brought something to help,” he said. Bridgette turned her head slightly, peeking at him with one eye. He smiled, a wide, genuine smile that had her heart stopping now. Why, oh why, did he have to be so good looking? She wanted to curse whatever mortals brought him into this world. It was a lot harder to stick to the plan she’d decided on last night of keeping her distance when she had him smiling playfully at her like he was now.

“What is it?” she asked. She didn’t think he understood her, since her mouth was currently crushed against thousands of feathers, but his smile grew wider at her curiosity, so he must have.

“Some balm that will help loosen up those sore muscles,” he said. “Trust me, this stuff is like magic.”

She turned so she was facing him fully. “You know that for a fact? Been tossed around a lot of vans in your lifetime, have you, Roman?”

He chuckled. “You’d be surprised.” He walked forward, the bed dipping toward him as he sat on the edge. Bridgette leaned her weight back so she wouldn’t roll against him.

“What hurts the most?”

She sighed. “Everything.”

He laughed again. “Okay, roll onto your stomach.”