Race the Storm

Chapter 21

Jax turned Willa's arm over, looking for an incision scar where they would've put in a tracker. There wasn't a mark there, even though the tracker was apparently big enough to emit a light. Most likely a person with a healing power had been brought in when the tracker had been placed. There were a couple he knew of who could make it look like a cut or break had never even happened.

He let go of her arm and looked up at Willa, meeting her eyes. "And you don't remember there being a scar here or it aching afterwards?"

"No, but we are talking about a covert government research organization," she said, falsely upbeat. She shifted her shoulders uncomfortably but still kept her shaky smile plastered on. "Hopefully this is the only one..."

"Wes said this guy should be able to help us with making sure there's just one tracker." And getting this one out, which was what Jax was concerned about.

It was dusk and they were sitting at a table outside of a small cafe, waiting for the man that Wes had contacted for them. The guy was an underground doctor with a healing power that had been off PsyOps radar since the 80s. According to Wes, he was married to a woman who could shield him, and they had broken out together in 1982.

So staying out of PsyOps wasn't impossible. Just extremely difficult.

Wes had met the guy when he had noticed a small but strange blindspot in the middle of a city a few years ago; the shielder's power did something wonky to radars and trackers as well as telepaths and psionic trackers. At least around her, Willa would be completely safe as well. Jax wasn't a problem. PsyOps didn't put trackers in field agents. They were destroyed too often by powers, and most people could get them out if they really wanted.

Willa drummed her finger tips against the top of the wrought iron table and glanced over at the parking lot. She was still pale and it was easy to see the anxiety in her eyes. "So they didn't find us earlier because of Wes' jammer thing?"

"That's what Wes thinks," Jax said. He wanted to reach out and cover her hand, but he held back. "I've been carrying it in my bag, and we've mostly been around each other. They probably kept some track of us whenever we were farther apart."

"Guess I should've gone with you," she said, her smile wobbling.

"We could've both gotten caught by the people who own the used car lot." While that would've been easier than PsyOps, it still might not have mattered. PsyOps hadn't been far behind. "We're lucky they didn't have anyone like me with them."

"I wonder why they didn't," she said, nose wrinkling. "It doesn't make sense."

"There might be multiple teams looking for us." He grabbed the edge of her plate and moved it closer to her, silently trying to encourage her to eat. She hadn't touched the taco she had ordered. "Not everyone who works for PsyOps has powers, and this pair might have just been the closest to us."

"They're probably regretting that."

Jax gave a firm nod. He didn't know how much she'd seen, but he wasn't about to tell her what happened to the first team member he'd encountered trying to get to Willa. Shrapnel, even if it was wooden, usually didn't mix well with human bodies.

But he'd been on the edge of panic, his only focus on getting to her, and getting her out of there safely. And that dude had been trying to stop him.

Willa got that lost, uncertain look on her face again, her eyes suspiciously shiny. This time Jax didn't hold back, scooting his chair closer as he grabbed her hand with both of his. "It's gonna be okay, Willa," he said, willing her to believe him. "You got the best team in PsyOps on your side, we're not gonna let anything happen to you."