Aidan knew Mitchell didn’t talk about Tristan’s mother.
Ever .
Hell. They were right. He did it for Cassandra. When he saw her crying like that, all he could think about was fixing the situation for her.
Why? She’d proven to be a major tease and a pain in the ass.
His body still hummed for her. That episode in the hallway had been the hottest make out session of his life, and he’d had plenty of them.
Tristan and Mitchell acted like saving Robert’s life ranked right up there with saying yes to a one-night stand or drinking too much. The man had literally died and Aidan had brought him back with the touch of his hand.
He stared down at his hands and the bands on each forearm. D.I.R.E. had given him super powers. Power to kill an engine and save a life.
Why couldn’t he stop the space craft tonight?
“So, why couldn’t I stop that machine tonight, Mitchell? I did the exact same thing I did to Cassandra’s car yesterday but, my energy seemed to make it stronger rather than overload it.”
“I’m hoping to get some answers from our prisoner.” Mitchell picked up a video recorder and a file. “Tristan, I think we need to teleport back to HQ to interrogate him. I have a feeling he’s going to need some persuasion.”
Aidan crossed his arms over his chest. “We’ve got a shower in the interrogation room and we’ve got me. I can get him to talk.”
Mitchell gave a brief nod.
Tristan tossed a revolver at Aidan. He caught it in his fist.
“It’s a Junior Commando, Monroe.”
“Which goes along with what Ben told you.” Aidan studied the two-inch barrel and non-gloss, Parkerized finish on the gun.
“Yep. And we’ve got brand new .38 caliber cartridges made by the Mainland Corporation.”
“We need to get some answers.” Aidan set down the gun on the table and retrieved his gloves from a locked cabinet. “And, I’m in the mood to torture someone.”
Tugging on his gloves, Aidan secured them to his armband. “Who better than the man that tried to kill me and probably killed my father?”
#####
“What are you doing?”
Tristan cuffed the man’s wrists to the showerhead in the empty hospital room. He plugged up the drain with rubber gloves and turned on the water at a steady trickle.
“Why’d you have to take off my clothes?” The man hung in the shower wearing only white briefs. “Are you going to bring me that beautiful dame I saw out in the hallway? I’d like a stab at that.”
Frowning, Tristan looked at Aidan.
“He’s talking about Rachel.”
Scowling, Tristan stood back from the shower stall to give Aidan room. “Let me introduce you to the dame’s brother, you sonvabitch. He’s got something for you.”
Sparks danced off the diodes on Aidan’s fingers.
The man’s eyes widened as water ran into his eyes. “Stay
away from me.”
Aidan tilted his head to the side. “Give us the answers we
want and you get to keep your skin.”
The man’s gaze bounced off of Aidan, to Tristan, and finally Mitchell, who held the video recorder in the bathroom doorway.
“What do you want to know?”
Mitchell said, “What’s your name?”
He spat water from his lips. “Groucho Marx.”
With a grimace, Aidan shook his head. He touched the man on the chest with one finger.
He quivered like a live fish, electricity buzzing in the room. “ No, no …”
Backing off, Aidan spread out his fingers in front of him. “I did that with the touch of a finger. Imagine what I can do with both hands.”
“Okay, okay.” The sailor shook his head once, flinging water droplets on them. “What do you want to know?”
Mitchell’s tone was all business.“Your name.”
“Lt. Henry Buckner, serial number three, zero-”
Mitchell held up a hand. “What branch of the military?”
“United States Navy.”
“Are you a SEAL?”
He frowned. “A what?”
Aidan and Tristan exchanged a glance. How could the guy be in the Navy and not know about the SEAL teams?
Mitchell twirled his
Ever .
Hell. They were right. He did it for Cassandra. When he saw her crying like that, all he could think about was fixing the situation for her.
Why? She’d proven to be a major tease and a pain in the ass.
His body still hummed for her. That episode in the hallway had been the hottest make out session of his life, and he’d had plenty of them.
Tristan and Mitchell acted like saving Robert’s life ranked right up there with saying yes to a one-night stand or drinking too much. The man had literally died and Aidan had brought him back with the touch of his hand.
He stared down at his hands and the bands on each forearm. D.I.R.E. had given him super powers. Power to kill an engine and save a life.
Why couldn’t he stop the space craft tonight?
“So, why couldn’t I stop that machine tonight, Mitchell? I did the exact same thing I did to Cassandra’s car yesterday but, my energy seemed to make it stronger rather than overload it.”
“I’m hoping to get some answers from our prisoner.” Mitchell picked up a video recorder and a file. “Tristan, I think we need to teleport back to HQ to interrogate him. I have a feeling he’s going to need some persuasion.”
Aidan crossed his arms over his chest. “We’ve got a shower in the interrogation room and we’ve got me. I can get him to talk.”
Mitchell gave a brief nod.
Tristan tossed a revolver at Aidan. He caught it in his fist.
“It’s a Junior Commando, Monroe.”
“Which goes along with what Ben told you.” Aidan studied the two-inch barrel and non-gloss, Parkerized finish on the gun.
“Yep. And we’ve got brand new .38 caliber cartridges made by the Mainland Corporation.”
“We need to get some answers.” Aidan set down the gun on the table and retrieved his gloves from a locked cabinet. “And, I’m in the mood to torture someone.”
Tugging on his gloves, Aidan secured them to his armband. “Who better than the man that tried to kill me and probably killed my father?”
#####
“What are you doing?”
Tristan cuffed the man’s wrists to the showerhead in the empty hospital room. He plugged up the drain with rubber gloves and turned on the water at a steady trickle.
“Why’d you have to take off my clothes?” The man hung in the shower wearing only white briefs. “Are you going to bring me that beautiful dame I saw out in the hallway? I’d like a stab at that.”
Frowning, Tristan looked at Aidan.
“He’s talking about Rachel.”
Scowling, Tristan stood back from the shower stall to give Aidan room. “Let me introduce you to the dame’s brother, you sonvabitch. He’s got something for you.”
Sparks danced off the diodes on Aidan’s fingers.
The man’s eyes widened as water ran into his eyes. “Stay
away from me.”
Aidan tilted his head to the side. “Give us the answers we
want and you get to keep your skin.”
The man’s gaze bounced off of Aidan, to Tristan, and finally Mitchell, who held the video recorder in the bathroom doorway.
“What do you want to know?”
Mitchell said, “What’s your name?”
He spat water from his lips. “Groucho Marx.”
With a grimace, Aidan shook his head. He touched the man on the chest with one finger.
He quivered like a live fish, electricity buzzing in the room. “ No, no …”
Backing off, Aidan spread out his fingers in front of him. “I did that with the touch of a finger. Imagine what I can do with both hands.”
“Okay, okay.” The sailor shook his head once, flinging water droplets on them. “What do you want to know?”
Mitchell’s tone was all business.“Your name.”
“Lt. Henry Buckner, serial number three, zero-”
Mitchell held up a hand. “What branch of the military?”
“United States Navy.”
“Are you a SEAL?”
He frowned. “A what?”
Aidan and Tristan exchanged a glance. How could the guy be in the Navy and not know about the SEAL teams?
Mitchell twirled his
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