Determinant: a gene or other factor that determines the character and development of a cell or group of cells in an organism.
Chapter 19: Sex, Lies and Jellyfish - Cast Away
Jamie struggles to find her place in the new team dynamic as they continue to search for animals with the Phase 2 mutation.
She had to get away. It was the only thought in her head, the one thing that drove her forward as her pursuer gave chase. Run. Her feet made no noise as she raced through the darkness, and though she couldn't see the ground beneath them she knew she had to keep going, keep running. She couldn't let it catch her.
Jamie turned her head to try and get a glimpse of whatever was chasing her, but all she could see was gleaming eyes in the darkness. Snarls and screams echoed around her, and the hot breath of something snapped at her heels as she pushed herself faster.
She ran forever with no respite. No matter which way she twisted or turned it stayed at her back, always only one step behind. There was no escape. She thought about stopping, about turning to face it head on, but just as quickly the thought fled. She hadn't seen it, but she knew what it was. A monster. If she let it catch her it would consume her, devour her until there was nothing left but a memory.
Jamie cried out as her foot caught and she stumbled. Her hands moved to protect her head instinctively as she rolled, and when her eyes opened it was upon her. It snapped and clawed at her, its yellow teeth sinking into Jamie's flesh even as she tried to scramble away. Still it advanced, but even with it so close she couldn't quite see it properly. The looming form pounced and Jamie went down under its weight. Teeth found her again, ripping her skin open to let the darkness inside.
Defeated, she sagged bonelessly to the ground. The monster stilled. Jamie raised her head to see, to meet her doom with the last of her dignity, but the monster was gone. The form lying next to her was no animal, and even as she turned it over she knew what she'd find. Empty eyes and slack features, the last traces of surprise leaking away with his life. Mace. The man who had wanted to kill her. The man she had killed.
Jamie grabbed the knife now protruding from his chest and pulled, begging silently for him to get up. He didn't. She opened her mouth to apologize, to plead for forgiveness, but nothing came out. She looked down at her arm, where the beast had laid it open, and saw streams of light leaking from the wound like blood. She tried to stifle it, to keep the light within her, but it seeped through her fingers and faded into the darkness.
Finally she screamed. Then she woke.
"Jamie?" Mitch was sitting on her bed when she started awake, her eyes wide and wild. For a moment she didn't recognize where she was, who she was with, and she tensed. Then the soft tenor of his voice cut through the haze and she relaxed. She was with Mitch. She was safe.
"I'm alright," she told him before he could ask. He seemed to be asking a lot lately, and she was growing tired of the question. "Just a dream." She could see he wanted to say something, but he didn't. That pissed her off more. "Sorry if I woke you."
"You didn't," he shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. She hadn't noticed its warmth on her leg until it was gone, and she stifled a shudder at the chill that crept in. "I was doing some stuff in the lab," he finished lamely. She remembered leaving him there hours ago, overcome by a sudden wave of anger that she hadn't known what to do with. It frustrated her and compounded on top of the already maddening task of figuring out where she fit in now. She felt like a stranger among her closest friends, and her closest companion right now was being treated like an enemy. They didn't trust Logan, she knew that, and Mitch least of all. But hearing the ridicule in his voice when he spoke about the man who had survived the frozen wilderness with her had been too much. She'd left him alone with little more than a cursory goodnight, and she knew she'd hurt him.
But she didn't want to hurt him. She wanted…
What did she want?
I want things the way they were, she admitted to herself. But even as the words played in her mind she knew it was impossible. Things were different now, irrevocably so. She would need to learn where she fit in this new world. She just hoped that wherever that was, Mitch fit next to her.
"Uh, Jackson says there's something we all need to hear. He's called a team meeting." That's a start, at least. She was still part of the team, and she recognized the effort Mitch was putting in to make sure she knew it.
"Okay," she pushed herself to sitting with some effort and shifted to move the blankets. Mitch stood and backed up, his entire demeanor unsure and hesitant. Jamie felt a flash of irritation at how delicate he was being, like he was afraid any misstep could set her off. "I'll be there in a minute. You don't have to stay." She had always been good at reading people - it was an occupational hazard she supposed - but with Mitch it was amplified tenfold. From day one she had been hypertuned to him and, despite the muddle that existed between them now, that hadn't changed. Her words hurt him, though he did his best to hide it from her.
"I, uh, I'll just...I'll see you there." He slipped out of the room quickly without looking back, and Jamie instantly felt guilty. This was his room, after all. She had no right to kick him out, even if the words had never left her lips. When this meeting was over, she would ask Jackson about taking Chloe's room.
Everyone was already assembled when she arrived. Abe and Dariela had posted up on the far side with Mitch and Jackson hovering nearby. Allison was standing in the center of the lab holding some sort of briefcase and looking annoyed. Logan had taken a seat on the stairs and as Jamie descended he nodded to the space next to him. She stopped a few steps above him and sat on the opposite side. Her silent support of the man who was a stranger among them didn't go unnoticed by her friends, and Allison's frown deepened.
"Thank you for joining us." Her tone was all false friendliness and Jamie just smiled. She saw the warning look Mitch shot her but ignored it. Allison set the briefcase down on the table and unzipped it carefully. Her deliberate movements caught everyone's attention, and as she extracted what looked to be a very old newspaper everyone leaned in expectantly.
Dariela was the first to bite. "What is that?"
"It's a newspaper," Allison indicated the remaining stack of them. "A series of them, actually, from a periodical called The Worldwide Courier." Jamie racked her brain for any information about it, but the history of journalism had never been her point of interest. "It circulated in the late 1800's to a very small base of readers."
"And why do we care about a small-time paper from over a hundred years ago?" Dariela continued. Jamie agreed, though she didn't say it.
"Because of the headlines," Jackson spoke up now, drawing everyone's attention from Allison. "They reported the exact things we've seen already. Look," he gestured to the paper Allison was holding.
Mitch reached for it, glancing down at the headline before shaking his head. "Alright, we've seen a lot of weird stuff, but this?"
"We've verified its authenticity," Allison had remained somewhat centered among the group, as though she was taking charge. Jamie didn't like it. "These articles are very real."
Abe finally spoke from his position near the back. He had grabbed a seat just behind Dariela, his large frame dwarfing her smaller one. "The animals also did this in 1895?"
"Only the animals causing environmental changes," Jackson explained. "The triple-helix animals."
"The same ones we need for the cure," Dariela added.
This time Jamie was unable to contain her snide remark. "We?" she sneered at the other woman. Dariela just stared back, answering the challenge but not escalating it.
Mitch stepped into her eyeline, breaking the staredown as he pushed the conversation forward. "For the cure, we need the genomic fossils of seven specific animals."
"Okay," Jamie turned her attention back toward the rest of the team, "but if these triple-helix animals have been around for over a hundred years, why are we just hearing about them now?"
"The Worldwide Courier was viewed like a tabloid," Allison explained. "The 'I Saw Bigfoot on a Date with Elvis' of its day. People thought they were fiction."
Jamie leaned over toward Logan, not bothering to lower her voice enough to remain unheard by the rest of them. "Gee, I wonder why." Logan huffed with amusement at her derision and Allison glared at both of them.
Mitch had been pacing around slowly in front of the stairs, but now came to rest just in front of the rail. He was standing physically between Allison and Jamie, and the message of his body language was clear. Jamie felt a twinge of shame at her behavior, for forcing Mitch to place himself in that position in the first place. But just knowing he was willing to do so, to put himself between her and the rest of team if necessary, made her feel better. She'd been in love with him since long before the plane crash, and their separation had only heightened the yearning she had to see him again, to hold him and be held by him. But reuniting with him, with the team, hadn't been as smooth as she'd imagined it. So much had happened in such a short time - had it only been a week? - and obviously the rest of them had seen more than glass-shedding snakes.
She realized with a start that the debate was still going, and Jamie shook her head to clear the cobwebs. She could suss it all out later; right now she needed to focus on the problem at hand.
"No eye witness," Mitch was saying. "These articles tell us nothing."
"Actually, they do show us something," Jackson corrected. All eyes turned to him and he grabbed one of the papers. "Alright, these articles show us all the animals so far that have caused environmental changes, right? The sloth, the electric ants, snakes."
Wow, they had been busy. "You guys have come across all that?" Jamie glanced at Mitch, who shrugged apologetically.
"You missed a lot," he said simply. She knew he hadn't meant it to cut deep, but she recoiled anyway. The point was driven home, and she retreated mentally as the team began to work out a plan regarding the remaining animals in the papers. She heard something about jellyfish and hurricanes, but she wasn't really paying attention anymore. Instead she observed, watching body language and gestures. Jackson, Mitch, Abe, even Dariela, they all seemed so at ease and comfortable working through the situation as a unit. A unit that no longer included her.
It wasn't until their destination had been decided and the meeting adjourned that Jamie seemed to refocus. Allison was already walking away, shouting commands over her shoulder.
"I'll make some calls. Mitch, can you tell Trotter to change course to Portugal, then come see me?"
"Whatever you say, boss." Jamie smirked at the mock salute he gave her behind her back.
"Actually, I'm not the boss," Allison sounded almost gleeful as she delivered the news. "You are."
Mitch sputtered and glanced at the rest of them in surprise. Jamie thought he looked adorable all flustered like that, but she didn't say so. Jackson replaced all of the newspapers in the briefcase and zipped it up, then clapped Mitch on the shoulder.
"Congrats on the promotion," he mumbled before exiting quickly. Abe and Dariela soon followed, and even Logan could read the tension that had suddenly erupted in the room. He stood and started up the stairs, pausing only to ask her a question with his glance. Jamie shook her head, and he continued alone.
"Mitch?" Jamie prodded once they were alone. She hadn't moved from her perch on the stairs, but he was now bent over an exam table with his head lowered in mock concentration. She knew enough about him to know his sudden focus was a cover; whenever Mitch was really interested in something he perked up, his mannerisms and gestures became exaggerated and his speech grew faster. This silent, near brooding Mitch was a new creature. "You okay?"
"Hmm?" he looked up suddenly. "Oh, yeah." He instantly straightened up and grabbed at the briefcase full of old papers. "I need to, uh, go tell Trotter to get us in the air." He left just as quickly as the others had, leaving Jamie with only her thoughts to keep her company.
"I need a drink."
She found the bar without much trouble. She raised her brow at the limited stock, but she supposed they didn't have much time to go shopping what with all of the world traveling they'd done recently. She poured herself a drink and downed half of it before she felt brave enough for her next task.
She found Jackson in the vehicle bay checking and re-checking their equipment. He looked up at her when she stopped in the doorway and offered her a bright smile. "Hey, Jamie."
She returned his greeting with a flat one of her own, but made no move to enter the bay fully. Now that she was confronted with the opportunity, she found that the words wouldn't come. Thankfully, Jackson seemed to sense she needed to say something. He finished with what he was doing and walked up the few steps to stand in front of her.
"Getting settled back in?" he asked.
"Considering this is my first time on this flying fortress at all, settling back in isn't something I can do." Stop it, Jamie! He's just trying to help. Jackson didn't seem to mind her brusque tone and stayed silent to let her get on with what she was trying to say. "I mean, yeah. It's just...I'm having a hard time processing it all at once, I guess."
"Nothing says you have to," he rubbed her arm comfortingly. "Nobody here is going to begrudge you the time you need to heal. You've been through a lot."
"So have you," Jamie didn't say it outright, but she let her expression display the sorrow she was still feeling at Chloe's loss. She could see in Jackson's eyes that he understood what she hadn't said, and his smile fell away.
"Yeah, it's been…" he trailed off, unable to find a word for it. "We're all still reeling, I guess."
"Listen," she plowed on, emboldened by a sudden surge of bravery. "I was wondering how you would feel about me staying in Chloe's room. I mean, I've sort of taken over Mitch's room and I know he says he doesn't mind but he's used to having his own room and -"
"Jamie," Jackson held up his hand to cut off her rambling. "It's fine. I, uh, I've been meaning to pack up her things to send to her sister. I just...couldn't ever bring myself to actually go in her room."
"I can do it," Jamie offered. "I need something to keep me busy, to keep my mind off of…" She didn't want to tell him about her nightmares, about her fear of losing herself in the darkness. Thankfully, he didn't pry.
"Okay," Jackson agreed. "And hey, listen," he stopped her before she had completely turned to leave, "if you ever wanna talk about it, about what happened out there...I mean, I know you've probably already talked about it with Mitch but the offer stands."
Jamie nodded once and departed, unable to admit that she hadn't really talked about it. Oh, she'd relayed the basics of her adventures on the drive back from Caraquet, but she hadn't actually sat down with anyone and really delved into the details, much less her feelings and reactions. Just the thought of reliving it so soon made her shudder, and she retreated away from Jackson and the vehicle bay before she lost her composure.
Chloe's room was neat, tidy, and Jamie smiled. She'd expected nothing less. She'd only been in here once to grab a change of clothes from the drawers but she hadn't really had a chance to examine the room. Chloe had really made it hers in just the short time she'd lived there. A large photo of Paris at night hung on the wall near the door, held tight to the wall with putty. Jamie pried it off carefully and set it on the soft quilt that was folded on the end of the bed. A photo of Jackson and Chloe sat on the nightstand, and Jamie carefully laid it on the bed to give to Jackson later. The small clock radio she left, knowing from the twin on Mitch's dresser that it had probably come standard with the room.
She spent the next hour or so sifting through Chloe's small collection of clothes. Things she could use she kept in the drawers, folding the rest on top of the quilt to be given back to Chloe's sister. Shoes were next, and Jamie raised her eyes at the five pairs set neatly in the upright closet. Jamie discovered Chloe had small feet, but there were a pair of slippers that were comfortable enough. The rest went onto the pile.
In the closet she also found a printer box filled to the top with files all related to their mission. Chloe had been a painstakingly thorough analyst, and she had copies of every single report all the way back to their first assignment as a team.
Jamie sat cross legged on the bed as she read every one of them. Hours went by as she replayed their early adventures, from the wolves in Mississippi to the jaguars in Africa. It was then that Jamie learned just how far Chloe had gone to keep Delavane and the others from knowing who had shot Ben Schaffer. Chloe had protected her, shielded her from her bosses at the risk of her own job. Jamie read about Chloe's kidnapping, the torture of her sister, and her subsequent rescue by a man she'd thought had betrayed her. By the time she reached the report of the plane crash, tears were streaking down her face.
It was miracle, she surmised, that any of them had survived that crash. Jackson had sustained the worst injuries, and Chloe's worry and sorrow at his condition seeped out of every word as she detailed the surgeries he'd required.
The next few months were written more like journal entries than official reports, but they were no less thorough. She felt a little like a voyeur, prying into Chloe's private thoughts, and she went to set them aside. But then her eye caught Mitch's name at the beginning of one of the pages and she couldn't resist.
Mitch is coming back for the trial. I believe the last few weeks in Louisiana have done him some good, but we need him to present the data against Reiden Global. He is still grieving Jamie's death, but he sounded better when I spoke to him. Lighter, but still haunted. Perhaps after Reiden has finally been brought to justice he can begin to heal.
So there had been a trial. In the chaos of the last few days she hadn't even thought to ask. She had assumed, of course, that Reiden had been tried and punished for their numerous crimes. But seeing it on paper, reading the first hand account of her friends' continuation of her fight, was almost surreal. Jamie sifted through the next few sheets, eager to read all about Reiden's downfall. It wasn't as good as witnessing it, but she could practically feel the vindication waiting within the pages.
"Oh my God," Jamie choked as she read the outcome of the trial. Indemnity. Never had four syllables offended her so badly. She should have expected it really. For over twenty years Reiden Global had slithered out of the grasp of justice. But it still stung. Jamie swiped at fresh tears as she uncovered the gag order, signed by all four of her friends. Her fingers traced the depressions from the pens, gliding over each name in turn. Mitch's burned the most, his jagged doctor's scrawl barely recognizable except for the two large M's that marked the signature as his.
We signed. It broke my heart to watch Mitch do it, but Jackson is right. We have to carry on, to complete the mission and save the world. The cure is still out there, and we are no good to the world behind bars.
Silence or prison. It was a harsh compromise, if that was even the right word for it. Blackmail was more apt. Knowing they had been forced to sign changed things, though it didn't take the sting out of the fact that Reiden had once again dodged the metaphorical bullet. Not only that, but according to Chloe's next few reports Reiden seemed to be spearheading the Noah Objective at the behest of the government.
"Figures," Jamie set those reports aside. She wasn't sure she needed the particulars on how Reiden planned on ruining the world further. Her stress levels were high enough.
Jamie slowly worked through the next few months, and Chloe's reports became more official again as she and Jackson joined the IADG team searching for a new source for the cure. Still, there were snippets of asides, mostly about Jackson's recovery and worry for a now-absent Abe. Mitch, she learned, had agreed to consult, though he was conspicuously missing from most of the daily reports and briefings Chloe had copied. Mentions of him seemed to lie mostly in her personal entries.
Mitch isn't taking my calls. I've asked Jackson to look in on him, but he says Mitch won't answer the door either. I'm afraid he's beginning to spiral. If something does not change, I fear we may lose him for good. Mitch has all but given up on everything and everyone. The last time I saw him, he looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. I know he spends his days at the bar near his apartment. Is this what love does to a man? Renders him incapable of living in its absence? If so, I fear I have never been loved as truly as Mitch loved her.
Jamie couldn't read another word. She stacked all of the files and papers back into the box and set the two photographs and the quilt on top, as though she was trying to shield herself from the truth of Chloe's words. She hated reading about his misery, but at the same time it comforted her. It helped to know that she wasn't the only one who was sometimes overpowered with the force of this thing between them. Mitch loved her, fiercely and absolutely. It was a truth she could hold onto in the turbulent torment in her mind, an anchor in rough seas. Hopefully it would be enough.
"Jamie?" A soft knock followed Mitch's voice, and she jumped guiltily. He slid the door back and peeked in, his face scrunched in confusion at finding her sitting on Chloe's bed. "You okay?"
"Yeah," she shifted to swing her feet to the floor and stand up. "I was just packing Chloe's things to send to her sister. I didn't think Jackson wanted to."
"Oh, right, yeah," Mitch's face fell as he finally realized what she was doing. "I'm going to talk to Allison about making a quick detour to Paris after we're done in Portugal. We can make sure Chloe gets a proper burial." He was hurting still, she could see it on his face. Chloe had been his friend, too. Had he given himself time to grieve? She'd bet not, given his usual modus operandi.
"You know, you're the boss now," Jamie pointed out. "You don't really have to ask her."
He grimaced and shifted his weight to lean against the door frame. "Please don't remind me." She guessed he'd already talked to Allison and had been unable to worm his way out of the command position. Really, though, he was the best person for the job. "Speaking of, though," he continued, "Allison asked about you. And your friend."
Jamie frowned at the not-so-subtle scorn in his voice. "He has a name." Then his words registered and she took a step toward him. "What did you tell her?"
"To give you time," he said. "I told her you were still settling, and that you'd been through something that would take more than just a few naps and a good meal to process. She's...persistent, though. She wants to question you."
"Question me?" Jamie was immediately defensive. "About what?"
"About Logan," he told her. "And if I'm being honest, I have a few questions myself."
"Like what?"
"Like who the hell is he? And how can we be sure he can be trusted?" He was within his rights to ask; Jamie knew if she was in his position she'd be asking the same thing. But there was something more in his tone than simple curiosity, or even blatant paranoia.
"He can be trusted," she insisted. "We went through hell out there...together. If you don't trust him, then trust me. He's one of the good ones."
Mitch just stared at her, something dark and undefinable in his eyes. "Still, Allison thinks it best if the two of you stay onboard once we're in Portugal."
"And what do you think?" Jamie countered.
Mitch drew himself up to his full height. "I think the two of you still need time to recover, and galavanting around Portugal in the middle of a hurricane isn't exactly restful."
"You're grounding us?" Jamie had no idea where this sudden bitterness was coming from, but she could guess. "Well, I suppose Allison knows best."
Her blow hit the mark and he recoiled. She saw his jaw work as he fought against the retort he no doubt had at the ready, and once again she was reminded just how much she meant to him. She opened her mouth to apologize, to mutter some excuse for her behavior, but nothing came. He stared at her a moment longer before turning away. She heard his footsteps fade to silence as he stalked away, and finally she found her voice.
"Dammit."
They were five hours into their twelve hour flight when the plane's night cycle began. Jamie had moved into Chloe's room with little more than Mitch's old t-shirt and a spare toothbrush from the supply closet. A soft tone chimed from the intercom before the lights dimmed slightly and the shades automatically lowered over the windows.
Jamie looked up from the soup she was eating as Logan knocked on her open door. He hovered for a moment then stepped inside.
"So what's going on?" he asked.
"Nothing," Jamie set the bowl on her bedside table.
"Uh huh," Logan wasn't buying it. "I know how to tell when someone's lying, Jamie."
"Takes one to know one?" she quipped.
"Whoa," Logan's brow raised suddenly. "Jamie, what the hell -?"
"I'm sorry," she shook her head softly, "I just...I'm still off balance, I guess. Nothing is the way I thought it would be."
"Tell me about it," Logan laughed. "I have to say...Mitch? Not at all what I expected."
"How so?"
He shrugged and leaned against the frame in an inadvertent copy of Mitch's early position. "Guess I pictured more of a drummer, less of a lead singer."
Jamie nodded in easy agreement. "Yeah, Mitch isn't terribly thrilled with the reins of command either."
"Seems like he'll be good at it, though," Logan commented. "He likes being the smartest guy in the room."
"To be fair," Jamie pointed out, "he usually is."
"Okay, but why does he hate me?"
"He doesn't hate you," Jamie countered weakly. Logan glared at her, but she persisted. "He just...he doesn't like change, is all. Give him a few days, he'll come around." Logan turned to go, but stopped when she called his name. "Just thought I should tell you, we're not going with the rest of team in Portugal."
"So where are we going?"
"Nowhere, apparently. Mitch said Allison has some questions for us."
"Questions?" Logan frowned. "What kind of questions?"
"I don't know. And frankly, I don't care. I don't like her."
"I think the feeling is mutual," Logan said. "Though, I guess it's only natural."
Jamie's brow furrowed in confusion. "What is?"
"Oh come on, Jamie," Logan laughed again. "She and Mitch have a history."
"Yeah, she's his ex stepmother." Even as she said it, there was something about Logan's statement that settled at the back of her mind and wouldn't let go.
Her admission caught him by surprise. "Seriously? That's totally not the vibe I got from the two of them." At her questioning look, he shrugged one shoulder. "Look, I might be reading it wrong. My judgment isn't the greatest these days."
She scoffed and tossed a decorative pillow at him. "Thanks."
"Not what I meant," he smiled and tossed it back. "But if the shoe fits…" He closed the door before she could throw something else at him, and she heard him chuckling at his own joke as he walked away.
Was there more to Mitch's past with Allison than he was telling her? She tried to remember what else Mitch had said about her, if he'd hinted at anything -
"Listen, there's something I have to tell you about Allison before -"
He had been trying to tell her something. Suddenly nothing else mattered except finding out what it was, and she made her way quickly to the lab. Everyone else had retired for the night, but she knew Mitch. He would still be working, using every ounce of his substantial brainpower to solve their dilemma.
She found him hunched over a keyboard, his head bobbing as he glanced at the keys then back to the screen. How an egghead like him had never learned to type was baffling, but then again Jamie had a lot practice under her belt because of her chosen career.
"Mitch?" He didn't acknowledge her, and as she crept closer she discovered why.
Faint chords from a rock guitar floated from the earbuds he had in, and she realized that some of his head bobbing wasn't actually work-related. He was jamming. She tapped him on the shoulder lightly, but he still jumped like she'd struck him. Jamie smiled in amusement at the tiny shriek that escaped his lips.
"Sorry," she said as he pulled one of the buds from his ears. "What's that?" she nodded at the small music player that he had clipped to his belt.
"'Superunknown'," he answered as he reached for the pause button. At her baffled look he elaborated. "Soundgarden?"
"Never heard of them," Jamie shrugged, and his jaw dropped comically. "What?"
"You've never heard of Soundgarden? One of the greatest grunge rock bands to ever come out of Seattle?"
It looked like he was going to pretend that their earlier argument hadn't happened, and she took her cue from him. "I grew up in Nowhere, Louisiana, remember? We got, like, four stations tops. And that was on a clear day. Two of those were country."
He winced sympathetically. "Sorry. Do you wanna listen?" He offered the earbud to her, but she shook her head. "Suit yourself. You haven't lived until you've heard Chris Cornell belting out quasi-comprehensible lyrics."
"Maybe next time," she took the bite out of her words with a smile. "What are you working on?"
"Oh, uh, just tinkering with the triple-helix." He tapped a few keys and saved his work. "There's something else I'm missing. It's staring right at me, but I can't see it. I'm hoping the more I know about Jackson's DNA, the easier it'll be to find what I'm missing when we get the jellyfish."
"You'll figure it out," she told him. "You always do."
He accepted her compliment with a quick nod of his head but remained silent. Jamie hated the awkwardness that seemed ever-present these days. They didn't used to have such trouble simply being in the same room. She'd never felt the need to fill the silence before, but now it just felt oppressive.
"Did you need something or just can't sleep?" he asked finally.
"Actually," she turned and grabbed a nearby stool. When she sat down so did he, swiveling to face her. "There is something. Yesterday, before we went to the orchards, you said there was something you needed to tell me about Allison."
She could practically see his walls slamming in place. The muscles in his face hardened into an impenetrable mask as he straightened up. Then, just as quickly, it all fell away again. She recognized that Mitch was forcing himself to open up, to talk about whatever had caused that visceral reaction, and Jamie wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know anymore. Logan had been right - there was more this story.
"Yeah," he breathed. "I tried to talk to you a few times about it, but something always keeps interrupting."
"Well, everyone else is sleeping now, and we're several miles in the sky on our way to Portugal. Shoot."
Mitch stood and paced a few times, just a short route to the exam table and back again. He was collecting his thoughts, sorting through them to find the best starting place, and Jamie let him be. Finally he stopped in front of her and sank back down onto his stool with a sigh.
"Allison and I...we used to be...we dated. For a short time."
Mitch had dated his stepmother? Was that why she was his ex stepmother? Had Allison divorced Mitch's father and traded him in for a newer model? Had Mitch encouraged it? Had she seduced him?
"Jamie?"
"Hmm?" she shook her head sharply, snapping herself out of her thoughts. "Sorry."
"It's okay," he offered her a reassuring smile. "It's sort of a shock, I know. I was shocked, too, when my father and my girlfriend announced their engagement."
"What?" It was Jamie's turn to drop her jaw in surprise.
"What?" Mitch echoed. "Did you think it happened the other way round?" He sounded more curious than offended, though just barely.
"No," she denied immediately. "I just...I never expected…"
"I know," he grimaced. "It took twelve years of alcohol and repression for me to come to terms with it myself."
Jamie wasn't sure he had actually come to terms with anything, but she didn't say so. "What happened with her and your dad? I mean, she's not your stepmom now."
"Well, the only thing that never changes is my father's indescribable ability to fall in love, marry, and divorce women at an extremely impressive and therapy-necessitating rate." His sardonic smile soured, and for a moment she saw the pain he had spent so long suppressing. She couldn't imagine the sort of betrayal that would have been, and her dislike for Allison blossomed suddenly into a seething hatred.
"Can't you kick her off the plane?" Jamie asked darkly.
"Apparently my power doesn't extend quite that far," Mitch lamented. "Listen, tomorrow when she's asking you questions, don't mention this, okay? Don't let her know you know."
"Why not?" Jamie had every intention of letting Allison know just what she thought of her at the very first opportunity.
"Because she loves to manipulate people. She already knows about us," he waved his hand between them vaguely. "She tried to pull the 'you're too close to this' card. If she thinks she can get to you, she'll push every button she can."
"Yeah, well, I tend to push back." Jamie stood and rolled her stool back to the other side of the lab.
"I know," Mitch sounded almost amused, and when she looked at him he was smiling a bit. "She's going to look for any excuse she can to get rid of Logan."
"You don't sound terribly broken up about it," Jamie crossed her arms over her chest as Mitch adjusted his glasses and shrugged.
"I don't trust him."
"I do." It was as simple as that - at least she thought it was. Mitch's eyes flashed with that same unnameable thing as yesterday, and this time it didn't disappear. "He's a good guy, Mitch." She felt like a broken record saying it. She'd likely have to say it a few more times before they accepted it.
"I bet," he grumbled, and she finally realized what it was that had crept in and settled in his eyes.
"Are you jealous?" she asked suddenly. "Of Logan?" The thought was ludicrous, but even as he tried to shake his head in denial she saw the truth of him. "Oh my God, you are."
"Is that surprising?" he shot back. "Jamie, I love you." His blunt admission startled her but she didn't react. She knew that, of course, but it was the first time she'd heard the words since their phone call over a week ago. "It shouldn't come as a surprise that I'm not terribly fond of the only person you seem to be friendly with these days."
"You don't need to be jealous," she argued.
"This may come as a shock to you, but I'm not actually perfect," he held his hands out briefly in a shrug, but she was still watching his eyes. They had always let her know how he was really feeling, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. The jealousy was still there, but something more raw and open swam in their depths.
Idiot, she mentally berated herself for not understanding earlier. She quickly closed the distance between them and reached for his hand. He gripped it tightly, like a drowning man grasping at a life preserver.
"Mitch, look at me." He did, and she made sure he could see as much truth in her eyes as she saw in his. "I am not Allison. Her awful taste in clothing notwithstanding, we're different people for a variety of reasons. The greatest of which is that I would never do anything to hurt you. Not consciously, anyway." She thought about how short she'd been with him recently, and the many times he'd asked to help her only to be sent away with a curt dismissal. "I know I haven't been the greatest company lately. Sometimes, when it feels like I'm being stifled or coddled, I can be...tetchy. But I never -" She was quickly silenced with his finger on her lips.
"Don't apologize for any of that," he told her. "You need time, Jamie. I understand that. I do." He took a breath and let his hand drop from her mouth. "I'm just not so great with the whole 'sit back and do nothing' thing. Watching you work through it and not being able to help you is...beyond frustrating."
"Well, I am notoriously headstrong and independent," she joked. "How about a compromise? If you can give me space to work through the mess that my head has become, I promise to come to you with any problems."
"I can live with that," Mitch agreed. "As long as you also come to me with good things, too. I want to be here for you, Jamie. For the bad stuff and the good stuff."
"Okay." Jamie leaned forward and sealed the pact with a kiss. It was their first since the crash, since they'd woken up in this nightmare their lives had become. It was as sweet as she remembered, and for a moment everything else fell away. He responded immediately, reaching with hesitant hands to pull at her waist as his lips drank greedily from hers.
It was several long minutes before she pulled back, stifling a yawn with her hand. Mitch look guilty as his fingers drummed a random beat against her hips.
"You should get to bed," he told her.
"Yeah," she agreed. "Good night."
"Good night," he echoed, letting her step away from him with only minimal resistance. "I love you." It was the second time he'd uttered the phrase tonight, and Jamie wondered if her death had spurred this need in him to make sure she knew it. Whatever it was, she felt a flutter in her chest every time the words passed his lips.
"I love you too, Mitch." She watched him closely as she said it, and so didn't miss the way the pain his eyes dimmed ever so slightly as she returned the sentiment. Oh yes, she promised herself as she made her way back up to the living quarters, Allison was going to pay dearly.
"I'm gonna need everyone to buckle up wherever they can," Trotter's voice rang through the speakers. "Things are about to get nasty."
The plane shook as he spoke, heralding their descent through the turbulent storms of the outer bands of Hurricane Paula. Jamie had been in the kitchen grabbing her morning juice, but as soon as the shudders began she made a beeline for the lounge where the seats had belts. She met Dariela there, no doubt looking for the same thing.
"We should be on the ground soon," the soldier said gruffly.
"Turbulence make you nervous?"
Not at all," Dariela moved toward the seats. "You?"
It did, but Jamie wasn't going to admit it. "The only thing on this plane that makes me nervous is you." She didn't know what came over her, but suddenly all of the frustration and confusion she'd been feeling since she'd gotten back surged up like a beast inside of her. The right cross came with no warning, catching Dariela across the jaw. She told herself it was for Chloe, that she was avenging the friend to whom she'd never gotten to say goodbye. She almost believed it.
Dariela righted herself easily. "First one's free," she warned. Jamie knew Dariela could wipe the floor with her; she was a trained Army Ranger after all. But vengeance was right there, and Jamie surprised even herself with the backhand that followed. Dariela took the blow and returned it one of her own. It hurt.
The next few seconds were a blur as Dariela fought to control her. Jamie lashed out, but she was no match for the other woman's elite training. Soon enough she was on the floor with Dariela's foot holding her down near her throat.
"Enough!" Dariela screamed. Jamie struggled but the other woman was stronger. "I know you're upset, but never do that again."
"Hey!" The pressure of Dariela's foot disappeared as Mitch bodily hauled her off of Jamie. Dariela didn't fight, but she did keep her distance as Mitch reached down to pull Jamie to her feet. He checked her over quickly, his eyes stopping somewhere just below her eyeline. Jamie could feel the swelling of her lip from where Dariela's punch had landed, and she tested the area gingerly with her tongue.
Mitch whirled on the Army Ranger furiously. "What the hell is going on?"
"Nothing," Dariela replied, her eyes cutting over to Jamie. "We were just working some stuff out. Won't happen again."
"Damn right it won't," he reached out to grab Dariela by the arm. "Go get strapped into the jumpseats. Now." Mitch turned to look over Jamie's shoulder, and she followed his gaze to see Logan hovering in the far door. "You, too, Junior."
Logan glanced at Jamie, and she gave an almost imperceptible nod of her head. He returned it and followed Dariela toward the front of the plane as Mitch walked back over to her.
"You alright?" he inspected the cut on her lip.
"Fine," she replied curtly. The plane tilted once, and both of them reached out for the counter to steady them. "We need to get buckled in."
"Okay," he turned and let her lead them to the lounge seats. He waited until they'd secured their belts before speaking again. "What was that in there?"
"Like she said, we were working some stuff out." Jamie really didn't want to talk about it, but Mitch was persistent.
"Chloe stuff?"
"Yes," Jamie finally looked up at him, her expression fierce.
"Do you feel better?" His tone was more patronizing than she liked, so she decided to be just as snotty.
"I do."
He was upset with her - she could tell by the set of his jaw and the way he avoided eye contact - but he still reached for her hand as Trotter landed the plane in the middle of a hurricane. Jamie squeezed her eyes shut tight as they bounced around like a pinball in the gale force winds. When this was all over, she never wanted to step foot on another aircraft ever again.
"We're good, folks," Trotter's voice sounded almost smug as he reported their safe landing. "Weather reports say the hurricane threat has passed, though there are still some outer band storms to watch out for."
Mitch unbuckled and stood wordlessly, leaving her to scramble and follow. The others were emerging from all over the plane, and in less than five minutes everyone was assembled in the vehicle bay.
Logan cornered her while the others were collecting their gear. "What was that with Dariela?"
"I just wanted her to know she shouldn't be here after what she did."
"That was hardcore."
"Alright, listen up," Mitch raised his voice from his place at the top of the stairs. He looked extremely uncomfortable, but he adopted his teaching voice as he detailed their target. "The guy who has our jellyfish, his name is Duncan Santos. He's the local venom dealer here in Lisbon, because God knows every city needs one of those."
Jamie smirked at Mitch's scorn as Dariela spoke up. "What else do we know about him?"
"Biochemical genius," Mitch explained. "Did some time for producing a whole bunch of LSD. He also made a ton of money developing antivenom, which was in short supply after the animals went nuts."
"He's a war profiteer, is what he is," Abe added darkly.
"He also did a little time in the psych ward," Mitch went on. "Sipping too much of his own sauce."
"So we're going after a crazy, drug-addled venom dealer in the middle of a hurricane?" Dariela summarized.
"Yes," Mitch was beginning to sound annoyed by her questions, "because that is what we do." He turned to grab his bag. "Let's get this over with."
The door opened and Allison strode in her, face set in a determined frown. "Not so fast," she said dramatically. "I'm afraid I can't let you go with the rest of team." Her gaze had shot straight to Logan, but with Jamie standing so close it was toss up to which she was speaking. Jamie, however, had already prepared for this.
"Okay," she smiled disarmingly. "I'm sure you've got a lot of questions for me and Logan." She looked back at Mitch. "We'll coordinate with you from here, act as your base of operations."
"Sounds good," he nodded in agreement. Allison's face fell as her attempt to assert her control failed and Jamie smiled internally at their victory. She didn't have time to gloat, however. Mitch and the others were leaving.
"Hey," she jogged over to him and tugged his sleeve. "Be careful out there."
"Chasing a psychotic venom dealer through an unknown city in the middle of a storm that could drop a tropical cyclone on us at any moment? You bet." He leaned forward and kissed her in full view of the entire team. It wasn't as long or toe-curling as the one they'd shared in the lab last night, but it still warmed Jamie in a way that a hundred hot showers could never do.
Jamie could feel Allison's eyes on her as she watched the team load into the Hummer and drive away. Feeling just a little bit petty, she waited until the bay door was completely closed and sealed before she even turned around. Allison was staring at her with one raised eyebrow. She was off balance from her failed commanding entrance, but she recovered quickly.
"Ready?" she asked.
Jamie smiled sweetly. "You bet."
She followed Allison through the plane to the lounge. She had set up camp there, the blankets and pillows she'd borrowed folded neatly on the couch. Her laptop was already up and running as they sat at the table. Jamie settled into the chair and forced herself to appear comfortable. Mitch's warning about Allison's conniving nature replayed in her head and she was determined to control the conversation despite being the one under scrutiny.
Allison sat behind her laptop and made a show of prolonging the start of the interview by tapping on the keyboard randomly. Jamie sat as still as she could, her hands wringing idly under the table.
"Jamie," Allison said finally. "I'm going to cut right to the chase. This interview isn't about you. It's about Logan, and whether we can allow him to continue to remain with the team. I'm sure I don't have to tell you how critical this team's mission is. They can't afford to have any...distractions."
Jamie had been writing for a very long time, most of it professionally. She understood the importance of word use. Words like "we" and "they" were meant to separate her and Logan from the others, to create a rift Allison could later exploit.
"I agree," Jamie answered directly. "When are you going back to Washington again?"
Allison ignored her question and asked one of her own. "When did you first encounter Logan?"
"After I left the compound," Jamie told her plainly. "I found him nearly frozen to death."
"You found him, or he found you?" Allison clarified.
"Does it matter?" Truthfully, Jamie had asked herself the same question. She knew Logan had been hired to steal the leopard, but had he just been running from Mace and stumbled upon her or had he specifically sought her out to find out where the leopard had gone? She tried to pretend it didn't matter, that Logan had proved himself a friend, but it still gnawed at her sometimes.
Allison apparently thought the distinction was important as well. "Very much."
Jamie decided the truth was easier. There was something about Allison's line of questioning that reminded her of the way her aunt would interrogate the twins after they'd done something mischievous. She'd always known exactly what had happened, but she asked them anyway to see if they would try to weasel their way out with a lie. After the first dozen or so times, they caught on.
"He found me," Jamie said.
"And at what point did he reveal to you that he was hired to steal the leopard?"
How in the hell had she found that out? She'd told the others, of course, during the ride back to the plane from Caraquet. So that meant Abe, Jackson or Mitch had ratted Logan out. She wanted to believe it was anyone else, but she had a suspicion which of them had been her informant.
Allison was waiting for an answer, so Jamie gave her one. "I found some photographs in his bag."
"So, if you never found those he might have never told you the truth."
"Look, I know where you're going with this," Jamie was beginning to get annoyed with the inquisition. "And you're wrong."
"You can't possibly trust this guy," Allison appeared almost friendly in her warning, though there was a bite to her words that she couldn't hide. "I have to assume that you are smarter than that."
"You don't know anything about me," Jamie retorted, her annoyance quickly swelling to anger.
"Jamie Campbell," Allison tapped a key and turned her laptop. "Reporter for the LA Telegraph. Fired for defaming Reiden Global on your blog, The Girl with the Genie Tattoo."
"Congratulations on your ability to Google," Jamie sneered.
"One would assume if you had any area of expertise, it would be to find fire where there is smoke."
"Was I skeptical of Logan?" Jamie asked. "Of course. But somewhere between him sharing stories about playing Moses in his school play and his onion allergy, he gained my trust. He's one of the good ones."
"The world is not and never has been divided between good ones and bad ones." Her tone was bordering on condescending now, and Jamie reacted badly.
"Let me tell you the worst thing that happened to me in those woods."
"Worse than losing your toe?" Allison quipped, but Jamie cut her off.
"I realized it wasn't the animals I had to be scared of. It was the people. There's no telling what they'll do. So, yeah," Jamie leaned forward, "in this world there are two kinds of people. The animals and the Logans. I trust him with my life."
"More than Mitch?" There it was. Jamie had been expecting it, but it still hit her harder than she'd thought it would. The urge to throw something came suddenly, but she wrestled it down and chose a different course of action.
Jamie stood up and placed both of her hands on the table. "My relationship with Mitch is none of your business. In fact, nothing about Mitch's life is any of your business any more. You made that decision twelve years ago." Allison seemed surprised that Jamie knew those details, and she pressed her advantage. "So let's get something clear right now. Your involvement with my friends, with this team, extends exactly as far as helping us stop the Noah Objective and Reiden Global. Whatever else is going on in your head, whatever else you have planned, forget about it. Now."
"You're threatened by me," Allison was grasping at straws now, though she did her best to appear unaffected.
Jamie pushed off the table and raised her eyebrows innocently. "We done?"
"Yeah," Allison nodded once. "We're done." Jamie imagined they were far from it, but she had nothing else to say to the older woman right now.
"Good talk," she knocked on the table twice then walked away. She kept her posture erect and confident until she was out of sight, not wanting to give up any of the ground she'd gained. Allison was smart, and she was definitely working an angle that Jamie couldn't quite figure out. Until she did, Jamie would be keeping a close eye on their new guest.
"How'd it go?" Logan was waiting in the bar, his drink already half-empty. Jamie poured one of her own and slid onto the barstool next to him.
"About like I expected," she shrugged. "She's on a witchhunt."
"And I'm the witch," Logan toasted.
Jamie laughed and clinked her glass against his. "Yeah, well, don't let her bully you. Just answer her questions as truthfully as you can and let me do the rest."
"What are you going to do?"
"What I do best," Jamie told him. "I'm gonna dig into our Deputy Secretary of Defense and see what pans out."
"Logan?" Allison's voice floated down the hall just before she appeared in the doorway, clearly annoyed at having to come looking for him. "Are you ready?"
"Yeah," Logan down the rest of his drink and set the glass on the bar. "Wish me luck," he mumbled at Jamie before turning to follow the other woman back to the lounge. Jamie drained her own glass before retreating to her room to begin a hunt of her own.
Her new phone rang ten minutes later, though it took Jamie a few seconds to realize what the sound was. Mitch's name flashed on the screen and she pressed the speaker button as she kept sifting through the information she'd gathered.
"Hey," she greeted. "How are things going?"
"Oh, you know," Mitch sounded a bit off, though Jamie suspected being a newly minted team leader on an incredibly dangerous mission wasn't exactly within his comfort zone. "Peachy. You?"
"Your stepmom is really charming," she drawled.
"I'm sure the two of you are bonding," he shot back. "Hey, I just wanted to update you. It seems our venom dealer isn't as benevolent as Allison originally claimed. He's not selling the jellyfish. He wants us to get something for him in exchange."
"What could he possibly want from us?" Jamie wondered.
"Wandering Spider venom," Mitch explained. "There's a nest at the old mall. Apparently the last team he sent didn't come back."
"Absolutely not," Jamie balked. "It's too dangerous."
"We need that jellyfish, Jamie."
"Can you send Dariela?"
"Jamie," Mitch warned. "This is the only way. We have antivenom, so if we get bitten we'll be fine. It shouldn't take us more than an hour to get there, collect a few spiders and get back to the plane."
"So if you'd already decided, why did you call me?" Jamie was trying to split her attention between Mitch's report and her search into Allison's past, and so hadn't really registered the belligerence in her tone.
"What's going on, Jamie?"
"Nothing," she countered. "Call me when you're done." She disconnected before he could protest, her eyes focused on the memo she'd just uncovered. She skimmed it once, saved it to her hard drive, and transferred the document to her tablet before diving back into the pile of data she'd gathered. She could worry about the team later; right now she needed to uncover every dark secret Allison Shaw wanted hidden.
Logan emerged from his interrogation unscathed, though there was something different about the way he looked at Jamie as she joined him at the bar. It unsettled her, but there were more important things to talk about right now.
"Is this for real?" Logan re-read the memo she'd uncovered as Jamie opened a bottle of water from the fridge. She was a little more at ease after the text she'd gotten from Mitch.
Have spiders. Everyone ok. See you soon.
Their victory combined with her find was enough to keep a smile on her face. "Yep."
"Wow," he breathed. "She's got a set on her, huh?"
Before Jamie could reply, Allison stepped through the door with her tablet in hand. Her lips were set in a frown, like a kid denied his ice cream before dinner.
"More questions?" Jamie asked.
"No," Allison shook her head. "Your stories check out."
Jamie was enjoying this a little too much. She grabbed the tablet out of Logan's hand and drew herself up. "Well, that's swell. While you were busy waterboarding Logan, I was checking out your story."
"My story?" Allison seemed genuinely confused. It was a good act - but not good enough.
Jamie turned the tablet around to show her the screen. "This is an internal memo you wrote to the President two months ago, in which you support bringing Reiden onboard the Noah Objective."
Allison's confusion turned to shock. "How did you find that?"
Jamie smiled proudly. "Girl with the Genie Tattoo, remember?"
"It was before I knew the damage they'd cause," Allison explained. "I made a mistake. I've more than paid for it."
Jamie thought that was a lie, but didn't come out and say it. Instead, she set the tablet on the counter and turned fully toward the other woman. Behind her, she could feel Logan at her back. "Yeah, you're not sure you can trust us?" she snapped. "We're not sure we can trust you."
"What do you plan to do with this information?"
"Are you asking if I'm going to tell the team? You bet I am." And Jamie would take great pleasure in it, too.
"Now is not the time for petty in-fighting. We need to be united if we're going to -"
"Now it's 'we?'" Logan interrupted her. "Just a little while ago it was 'they.' Which is it? Are we a part of the team or not?"
Trying to regain some semblance of control, Allison leveled a glare at him. "Your position here is not dependent on me. Mitch is the leader of this team, and he will be the one you need to ask about staying." She sounded almost pleased with herself, and Jamie knew why. Left up to Mitch, there was little chance Logan would be sticking around for long. "Do what you want," she turned back to Jamie, "it won't change the fact that you need me and I need you. We're stuck with each other." She turned and strode out quickly, and so missed Jamie's parting shot.
"For now."
The team returned almost an hour later. The triumphant air Jamie had expected was absent, replaced instead by a somber silence as they piled out of the Hummer. Jackson was cradling his right hand tenderly, though he was trying to be discreet about it. There was a dark bruise forming on his knuckles and a small amount of blood seeping from tiny cuts there. Abe and Dariela disappeared to stow the weapons as Mitch emerged holding a small bowl of water.
Floating inside was a small jellyfish no bigger than a baseball. Jamie was underwhelmed.
"That tiny thing is the immortal jellyfish?"
"You were expecting something else?" Mitch raised his brow as he came up the steps.
"It just looks so...ordinary."
"This little guy is anything but," he told her. "Come on. I could use some help getting him set up in his tank."
"Do we have a tank for it?" Logan asked.
"Do you think I would have grabbed just him if I didn't?" Mitch countered. "Can you just...go help Jackson?"
Jamie frowned but said nothing about his dismissal. She actually wanted to speak with Mitch alone anyway, so when Logan glanced at her she just shrugged. He sighed but did as he was told, vanishing to the upper levels as Jamie followed Mitch to the lab. Once there, Mitch went about transferring the small jellyfish to its new home. She came up on his left side and noticed for the first time the angry red fang marks on his neck.
"You've been bitten!" She reached out unconsciously and he shied away.
"It's fine," he told her. "We all had antivenom. Can you hold this?" he handed her the bowl that was now full of just water. He moved away to grab some equipment, his movements stiff and slow.
"You're not fine," she pointed out.
"I will be," he amended. "I just need to get this guy settled then I can go grab a hot shower." He returned with a few different devices and gestured for her to set the bowl on the table. "I need to test the water he was in to make sure his new home matches."
"My uncle did that once when he bought me a new fish for my fish tank," Jamie watched him carefully pull some water into a dropper and squirt it into the small machine. "He just used a pH strip, though."
Mitch smiled but didn't reply. His head was pitched forward, his eyes monitoring the whir of the machine over the rim of his glasses. When it beeped he checked the results and nodded.
"We're good," he announced. "Temperature, pH, and saline levels are within parameters."
Jamie turned her head to look at the little guy happily floating in his new tank. The blue light Mitch had added to the tank gave the translucent creature an almost ethereal glow, and for a moment Jamie was mesmerized by the undulation of its tentacles.
"What you are gonna call him?" she asked.
"Not sure yet," he said. "I'm gonna need to get a DNA sample from him, see which piece of the puzzle he fits into."
"Okay," Jamie grabbed his arm and turned him around. "But first you need to take care of yourself."
"Jamie, I feel fine," he protested, but she just marched him toward the stairs.
"You were bitten by a venomous spider - the most venomous spider in the world." She'd done her homework on their deadly target after she'd dug up everything she could on Allison. The things she'd read had made her uneasy about their mission; even more so now that she knew he'd been bitten.
"To be fair, those qualifications are completely subjective," he argued as she pushed him up to the upper levels. "The potential deadliness of a venom depends entirely on the amount injected into the victim. The published study actually used mice to measure -"
"Save the science lesson for your class, professor. You grab a shower, I'll find something for you to eat." She left him at his door and waited until she heard the water start before she made her way to the kitchen. She found the makings for sandwiches, wrinkled her nose at the vegetarian turkey slices, and made them anyway. By the time she got back to Mitch's room with the plate, a bag of chips and two sodas he was out of the shower.
"Come in," he called when she tapped the plate against the door.
"Hands full," she told him. There were quick footsteps before the panel slid back to reveal Mitch standing in nothing but a towel. "Uh, hi." He wasn't built like any of the models she'd seen in magazines. His arms and shoulders were toned, but he had love handles and a slightly round belly. And his skin was the palest white she'd ever seen on a man who'd been living in L.A. for years. Still, she felt a flush in her neck and cheeks at his semi-naked appearance and cursed her fair skin that displayed it. Mitch smirked at her reaction but said nothing. He reached for the plate and the sodas, leaving her standing in the doorway with the bag of chips.
"Jamie?" Mitch turned with an inquisitive stare. She stepped in and slid the door closed behind her, moving to the bed as Mitch disappeared into the bathroom. When he came back out he was wearing jeans and a faded t-shirt.
"What have we got?" he asked her as he sat on the edge of the bed next to her.
"Turkey sandwiches," she told him quickly. "At least, whatever the hell you've got that passes for turkey in there."
Mitch chuckled and bit into the sandwich, grimacing only slightly. "Yeah, Abe got that turkey substitute the last time we went out for supplies. Enough mustard and you can't really tell the difference." He took another bite then reached for the chips. He was hungry, she noted, and he devoured two sandwiches and half the chips before he slowed. The bite mark on his neck was still swollen and red, but it didn't seem to be bothering him.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Her gaze shifted from the bite marks to his eyes. She could always see the truth in his eyes.
"I'm okay, Jamie," he promised. "It hurt like hell, but the antivenom worked."
"Okay." She let it drop, but made a mental note to keep an eye on him for a few hours. Just in case. "Listen, there's something I need to talk to you about. It's about Allison."
"How did that go today, by the way?" He eyed the other half of her sandwich hungrily, and when she offered it he didn't hesitate.
"Oh, it went swimmingly." Jamie's mood soured just thinking about it. "She all but accused Logan of being a criminal." At Mitch's pointed look she scoffed. "Don't start, Mitch. He's trying to do the right thing."
Mitch swallowed his bite before he spoke. "It's not his actions I'm worried about. It's his motives."
"We've already talked about this," she argued. "It's a non-issue. Plus, Allison Shaw isn't without her skeletons, either." She grabbed her phone and pulled up the memo for him to see. "She voted for Reiden's initial involvement. She was part of the team that brought them onto the Noah Objective in the first place."
Mitch's eyes were dark as he quickly read the document. "What did she have to say?"
"She said that she didn't know how much damage they'd cause and that she'd more than made up for any mistakes she'd made." Mitch snorted scornfully. "We can't trust her, Mitch."
"Oh, I don't trust her," he said. "As a matter of fact, that list is dwindling by the day." He crunched another chip thoughtfully, then hummed in triumph. "Moe. I'm gonna call him Moe."
"Who?"
"The jellyfish. I'm gonna name him after my grandfather."
Jamie smiled at his childlike glee. "I'm sure he'd be honored. I'm gonna go grab a drink from the bar," she stood and gathered the empty plate and soda cans. "Want anything?"
"No," he stood as well and folded the half-empty chip bag over itself. "I should get back to the lab and start working on the triple-helix again. Thanks for the snack."
"Snack?" she laughed. "You ate two and a half sandwiches and half a bag of chips."
"You grew up with four boys," he teased. "You know how we eat." He walked with her as far as the bar, leaving her with a quick squeeze on her arm and a promise to check in when he was done. Jamie stooped down to access the mini fridge and dug out the vodka. Luckily Mitch had showed here where he stocked the good stuff. She poured herself half a glass and settled on a stool. It didn't take long for someone else to join her, though it was probably the one person other than Allison she wanted to avoid.
"Hey," Dariela tested. When Jamie didn't say anything in return she sighed. "You can't still be made at me. I mean, you're the one who hit me first." She walked over with one hand in her pocket. "Besides," she continued, "I come in peace." She pulled her hand out and held it toward Jamie expectantly. In it was a small plastic egg, one she recognized from her childhood. "Put it in your shoe," Dariela explained as Jamie took the gift. "It'll help with weight distribution, balance."
Jamie hadn't even thought of doing something like that, and even if she had she wasn't sure Silly Putty would have been on her list of possible remedies. Her manners got the best of her and she gave the woman a flat smile. "Thanks." She looked down at the egg, then back up at Dariela. "Army Ranger trick?"
"Catholic school," she smiled. "Florence O'Shea. Lawn mower accident. Kids used to call her 'No Toe Flo.'" Her short, clipped delivery drove home for Jamie just how different their pasts were. Dariela's Army training had afforded her no time for small talk, no time for delays or hesitations. She had to make decisions quickly, decisions that affected the lives of people around her, sometimes people she cared about. Jamie imagined there were far worse things on Dariela's conscience than Chloe's death.
She opened her mouth to say something - not an apology, because Jamie wasn't sorry for what she'd done. But Darela wasn't finished. "Look, I know we got off on the wrong foot." It was a joke in poor taste, and Jamie's halfhearted glare told her so. "So to speak," Dariela smirked. "But I hope you can understand I'm part of the team. You don't have to like me, but you have to know you can trust me."
Trying to sound more generous than she felt, Jamie nodded."Yeah, well, you can trust me, too. I'm loyal to a fault."
"I can see that," Dariela nodded. "For what it's worth, I believe you about Logan. He seems like good people." That was surprising, and Jamie was stunned into silence. Luckily, Dariela filled it. "I think it'll be good for you if he sticks around. It helps to have someone who's been through what you've been through."
She walked away then, and only when she was out of her eyeline did Jamie finally find her voice. "Catholic School?" It wasn't an apology - or even a hand of friendship - but it was a start.
"No, that was Army Rangers." Her tone told Jamie she understood what she was trying to do and accepted the gesture.
"Oorah," Jamie intoned.
"That's Marines," Jamie could hear her smile now. "But I appreciate the thought." Her footsteps faded away, leaving Jamie alone once more. She finished her vodka, then poured another. Once that one was gone she stood to deposit her glass. The alcohol rushed to her head and she swayed, stepping back instinctively on her bad foot to catch her balance.
"Son of a bitch!" Jamie grabbed the bar and clenched her teeth against the agony, willing the pain to subside. Once it had, she sat on the stool again and propped her right ankle over her left knee.
It took a few tries, but eventually she found the right combination of shape and mass for the putty. She'd made the area nearest her foot concave and smooth, so her healing wound wouldn't rub against it. It didn't feel quite as right as actually having her toe back, but it did help. She made a mental note to tell Mitch to thank Dariela for her later.
She ran into Logan on her way back to the living quarters. She couldn't quite tell, but he seemed happy.
"I am," he told her when she called him on it. "I just talked to Mitch. He said I could stay."
"He did?" That was more than surprising. That was a miracle.
"He did," Logan confirmed. "He's...well, he's not what I expected. But he's a good guy."
"He is," Jamie couldn't help the smile that stretched her face. "Guess that means you're moving out of the common room?" He'd been camping on one of the long sofas there, and by mutual agreement the others had refrained from hanging out there during their down time.
"No rooms," Logan shrugged. "But Mitch said there's a small storage space down by the vehicle bay that I could use if I clean it out. There even might be a cot for me."
"We'll figure something out," Jamie promised. She hated to think of her friend stuck all alone down in the bowels of the plane. Really, they had all this space and only five bedrooms? She needed to talk to Mitch.
She found him in the lab and made a mental note to set a reminder on the computer for him to look up from the microscopes every few hours. Since it was well before bedtime, his music was blaring from a set of speakers near the computer. Jamie winced against the whine of a dissonant guitar and reached out to turn it down.
"That's sacrilegious," Mitch told her without looking up from his work. "Chris Cornell is a god."
"If you say so," she rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Just passed Logan in the hall." Mitch just hummed ambiguously. "He said you told him he could stay."
"I did."
When Mitch didn't elaborate, Jamie reached out to set her hand on his shoulder. When he straightened, she slipped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a hug. "Thank you."
His arms came around her waist and held her tightly. "You're welcome," he chuckled. "Just, don't expect me to be best friends with the guy."
She leaned back but left her arms around his shoulders. "I can live with that." Her eyes moved to the monitor in front of him. "What are you working on?"
He perked up smugly and tapped a few sequences, clearing everything on the screen except for a sequence of letters and numbers that meant nothing to her. "This," he told her, "is The Ghost Gene."
"What's a ghost gene?"
"An excellent question," he tapped a few more keys and took a breath, no doubt to launch into some long-winded explanation that she'd only understand a tenth of.
"Never mind," she shifted her weight to her good foot and patted his shoulder. "I'm sure whatever it is, you've got things under control here."
Mitch was crestfallen, but his attention was quickly caught by something else. "Hey, you're moving better."
"Huh?" Jamie looked down. "Oh, yeah. Dariela gave me silly putty."
She expected to have to explain, but he just rolled his eyes like that was the most obvious thing in the world. "To help with balance and weight distribution. Smart. I should have thought of it."
"Yeah, well, this may come as a shock to you," she smirked, "but you're not actually perfect."
He smiled as he recognized his own words, and he reached out to tug her to him again. "I'm not?" She let him pull her down for a kiss, then another. Jamie shifted to get closer, to let the warmth of their connection flood her entire body, but in doing so she miscalculated how her right foot needed to turn and she ended up ramming it into the table leg. She broke the kiss with a curse through clenched teeth.
"I'm sorry," Mitch said immediately. "Are you alright?"
"Fine," she bit back. "Just give me a minute."
"I can get some painkillers," he offered. "Or an ice pack."
"I'm fine!" she shouted. He had promised to give her space when she needed it; she'd wondered how long he'd be able to keep his distance before his overbearing nature took over again. "I'm gonna go lay down," she told him finally. "Good luck with the ghost gene."
She heard the loud drums and hard chords of his music turn back on as she limped up the stairs, and Jamie tried not to feel disappointed that he hadn't followed her. You yelled at him, Jamie. What did you think he was going to do?
As she slipped under the sheets that had once belonged to Chloe, Jamie tried not to think about the nightmare that had woken her that morning. The image of light pouring out of her body was not one she wanted to dwell on for long. She knew what it meant. She just hoped that particular dream never came true.