<b>Jade’s </b>POV:
:
<b>42 </b>
I kept my expression carefully neutral, though his words triggered memories I’d rather keep buried. That “young girl” was me in my previous life–Shadow–after a mission in the South American rainforest. I’d discovered those rare medicinal nts while on assignment, but my extraction <b>hadn’t </b>gone as nned. And my only trusted colleague within Shadow Organization died. I’d buried him there, beneath the jungle canopy, before smuggling the samples out.
When I’d reached New York, I donated thepounds to Morrison’s research center. Dr. Morrison had shown concern for my condition then–I was injured and exhausted–but I’d brushed him off and disappeared.
“Ms. Morgan?<b>” </b>Dr. Morrison’s voice pulled me back to the present. “This way to the storage facility.”
I followed him through the pristine corridor of Morrison Pharmaceutical Research Center, mentally checking the list ofpounds I needed for Max’s treatment. The ss and steel architecture hadn’t changed since myst visit–still the same stark minimalism disguising cutting–edge research.
“Thepounds you requested are quite rare,” Dr. Morrison continued as we approached theboratory area. “Normally we wouldn’t release them, but given the circumstances…”
He didn’t finish the thought. He didn’t need to. We both knew what he meant–that I somehow knew aboutpounds that almost no one outside theirb should know about.
<b>As </b>we headed toward the storage area, a man intercepted us in the corridor. Daniel again.
“Dr. Morrison, let me get those for you,” Daniel insisted quickly. “I was just heading that way
anyway.”
Dr. Morrison hesitated, then nodded. “Very well. We’ll wait in my office.”
Ten minutester, Daniel returned to Dr. Morrison’s ss–walled office, cing a small metal case
on the desk.
“Here you are, sir. Both samples from B–7.”
I reached for the case<b>, </b>but Dr. Morrison held up a hand. “One moment.” He turned to Daniel. “Open it<b>, </b>please.”
<b>10:08 </b><b>Wed</b>, <b>Sep </b><b>17 </b>
Daniel looked ufortable butplied, revealing two small vials containing amber liquid.
“May <b>I</b><b>?</b>” I asked<b>, </b>gesturing toward the vials.
Dr. Morrison nodded. I picked up one vial, examining it against the light, then uncapped it to smell
the contents.
42
“This isn’t it,” I said immediately.
Daniel’s face tightened. “I assure you, these are from B–7.”
“These are synthetic substitutes,” I replied, recapping the vial. “The originalpound has a distinct fermented undertone. This is mass–produced.”
Dr. Morrison’s expression darkened. “Daniel?”
“Sir, I–I thought it best to preserve the originals for our research. These synthetics are functionally
identical.”
“Send someone to verify B–7’s contents,” Dr. Morrison ordered, his voice dangerously quiet.
A junior researcher was summoned and dispatched to the storage unit. Five minutester, she
returned, visibly nervous.
“Sir, the original samples are no longer in B–7. The system logs show they were removed three weeks
ago.” She hesitated before continuing. “And there’s something else. I checked the security footage.
Daniel was seen removing them.”
Daniel’s face flushed with panic. “I—I can exin. Someone approached me. They offered a substantial sum-”
“You sold them?” Dr. Morrison’s voice was ice cold.
“Your employment is terminated, effective immediately. Security will escort you to clear your desk,” Dr. Morrison stated, his finger already on the inte button. “And I’ll be contacting the police about the theft.”
Daniel’s expression morphed from panic to anger. “You can’t do this! Everyone knows you distribute experimentalpounds to unlicensed individuals!” He gestured wildly at me. “Like right now!”
I stood <b>up</b><b>, </b>stepping between them. “What you’ve done constitutes theft and corporate espionage.
Thepounds weren’t yours to sell. Would you like me to continue listing the criminal charges
that apply?”
Daniel’s face contorted. “Who the hell do you think you are? Some high school student? I’ll make
sure you never—”
“Security,” Dr. Morrison called through the inte.
Daniel lunged for the metal case, knocking it off the desk. As vials scattered across the floor, he grabbed a letter opener and jabbed it toward me. Without thinking, I caught his wrist, twisted it
until the opener ttered to the ground, then swept his legs out from under him. He hit the floor hard, face pressed into the carpet by my knee between his shoulder des.
“Impressive,” Dr. Morrisonmented dryly as security personnel rushed in.
After Daniel was escorted out, still shouting threats, Dr. Morrison retrieved two vials from a hidden
safe in his bookshelf.
<b>42 </b>
“I always keep backups of our most valuable specimens,” he exined, cing them in a new case. “I had a feeling something like this might happen, though not quite so dramatically.”
He handed me the case. “These are the original nt extracts. I’ve also included samples of our
synthetic versions forparison.”
“Thank you.” I tucked the case into my bag.
Dr. Morrison walked to a cab and removed a small surgical kit. “I believe you might find this
useful as well. Micro–surgical instruments, specially designed for delicate work.”
The kit was identical to one I’d used in my previous life. I ran my fingers over the titanium tools, memories flooding back.
“These were designed by my mentor,” he continued. “I’ve only given a set to one other person.”
“That girl?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Yes.” He studied my face. “She said they were perfect for her… line of work.”
I closed the kit. “I’m sure they were,”
“Ms. Morgan,” he said carefully, “this friend of yours who told you about thesepounds and
instruments… would I know her?”
<b>42 </b>
I met his gaze. “You’re thinking of exactly who you think you’re thinking of.”
“I see.” His eyes widened slightly. “And did she ask you to check on me?”
“She’s not really the sentimental type.”
Dr. Morrisonughed softly. “No, I suppose not.” He looked at me more intently. “She disappeared two years ago. I always wondered what happened to her.”
I shouldered my bag, feeling the weight of the surgical kit andpounds. “Thank you for your help, Dr. Morrison.”
<b>10:08 </b><b>Wed</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b>
Badass in Disquise
<b>Chapter </b><b>37 </b>