Diesel (The Mavericks Book 13) Dale Mayer (top 10 motivational books .txt) 📖

she was a firm believer that, if her findings healed anybody, then they were in the right hands. But, if it were to hurt anybody, then it was in the wrong hands, and that seriously sucked.

She wanted her work to help people, not be weaponized into a global disease to be utilized against chosen civilizations. She kept working and then pulled her hands off the keyboard and rubbed her eyes.

“Are you okay?” Marge asked, beside her.

Eva smiled and nodded.

But the guard snapped, “No talking.”

Marge immediately turned her head back to her keyboard. Neither of the women handled any of this very well, and Paul, on the far side, was even worse. He just glared at the guard, and the guy raised his rifle, as if to hit him in the head with the butt.

“She just asked if I was okay,” Eva said immediately.

He again glared at her and said, “No talking.”

She sighed and turned back to the keyboard. It was hard to do what she needed to do when they didn’t have the same lab setup. She had told him that she needed certain equipment, and they hadn’t gotten it for her yet. Apparently it was coming, but, in the meantime, she was writing up her reports as best she could. But what she really wanted was to get the hell out of here.

She checked the timing, knowing that the guards would change out in the next two minutes. And, sure enough, just like clockwork, there they went. She smiled at that and relaxed a little bit, as she watched the smaller man come in. The dude was not really abusive, like the other one, who just seemed to enjoy pushing his power around.

Eva felt the other two scientists relaxing slightly as well. But this replacement guard was a little more agitated today. He told them, “No talking,” then walked to the security guards in the observation room next door, had a conversation with them, and then returned to the lab, where she and the other two were working.

“Make sure,” he said, in a ringing voice, “that you do not have anything to do with any strangers who have just arrived in the country.”

She looked at him in surprise. “Sorry?”

He glared. “They are coming to rescue you. If you leave with them, we find you, and we kill you,” he said succinctly.

She blinked several times. “We don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

He nodded. “Good.” At that, he turned and walked away.

But inside, hope flared. Was somebody actually coming to look for them? How would the Chinese even know? Did that mean they were watching all the airports to see who came and went? That would mean that this rescuer was somebody well-known to China. Was that even possible? Did they keep track of every anti-terrorist group out of the US? Surely they couldn’t do that. But then, thinking about the technology out there—once the faces, names, physical descriptions were input—it wouldn’t be all that hard to keep track of people. And that was a sobering thought.

This guard walked to the far side, on his phone as well, playing games, it seemed.

Marge beside her asked, “Does that mean somebody’s looking for us?”

“I don’t know,” she said in an equally low tone. “I wouldn’t count on it.”

Marge’s shoulders sagged.

“But we could get lucky,” Eva murmured, hating to see the older woman lose hope.

Marge nodded. “Anything would be better than this,” she whispered. She reached up a shaky hand to brush the gray tendrils of hair off her face.

“I’m sorry,” Eva said. “You’ve been here longer than I have.”

“Too long,” she said, “way too long.”

Eva thought Paul had mentioned how Marge had been here for about six months—Paul even longer—but Eva couldn’t be sure. She knew that the woman was suffering from her captivity regardless. The time didn’t matter; it was all about the effects of the time on someone under these adverse conditions. It was hurting Marge in a big way, and that would be hard. Eva nodded and smiled. “Keep strong,” she said.

“Don’t know if I can,” Marge said very softly. “It’s tough.”

“It is. I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“You’re younger,” Marge said. “I’m almost done.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Eva said, her voice a little sharper than she intended.

Instantly the guard raced back over. He reached out and pummeled her shoulder with the rifle.

Almost immediately her arm went numb. She winced, holding back the cry, as her arm fell from the keyboard, and she lurched forward.

“I said, no talking.”

“No,” she said, “if I can’t talk, then I can’t work, and, if I can’t work, then I’m no good here.”

“Then we kill you,” he snapped.

“Then kill me,” she said. “If you keep hurting this arm, I can’t work anyway.”

He just glared at it, hanging limp by her side, backed up a little bit, and said, “Stop talking.”

She rubbed her sore shoulder, while she pulled on whatever little bit of reserves she had. Marge was right. It was hard to stay positive when you had been through this day after day after day. And the longer it went on, the more that victim mentality overcame you. Eva needed to stand strong.

Because the mental strain was the worst.

Just as she checked her watch, she realized it was almost time for the day to end. They worked in the lab ten to twelve hours, but today they’d started late. So she didn’t know if they would be forced to stay late too.

A knock came on the door, and immediately the gunman was there, his rifle ready. The door was opened, and two businessmen stood there and snapped out orders in Chinese. Immediately the gunman raced toward the scientists, held up the rifle, and told them, “Stand up. Stand up. Stand up.”

Chapter 2

Eva stood up immediately, her hands in the air.

The three of them were led out of the lab and immediately taken back to their rooms.

Not a sound was made as they followed obediently along. There were other white doors, potentially other labs; she