Scorpion Christian Cantrell (free ebook reader for ipad TXT) 📖

“I swear, one of these days that thing is going to shine right in my eye and blind me and I’m going to sue this place for a zillion dollars and retire to Bora Bora wearing a sexy blinged-out eye patch.”

The prospect is so enticing that he punctuates his prophecy with a sassy snap. Quinn and James are duly amused.

“Just ignore me,” Destine continues as he adjusts Quinn’s drip. “Act like I’m not even here.”

But Destine is clearly not in the business of being ignored, which, even from four thousand miles away, James seems to pick up on.

“Destine,” James says. “That’s an unusual name.”

“Thank you,” Destine says primly. “I have a twin sister named Destin-y.”

“That’s cute,” Quinn says.

“The Miami-Dade public school system didn’t think so,” the nurse counters. “I can’t tell you how many times we’ve been mixed up. Even the IRS doesn’t seem to know we’re two different people.”

“Which one of you is the evil twin?” James asks.

Destine smiles at Quinn. “I like this guy,” he says. “You two are going to get back together. I can feel it.” This time, he has the foresight to duck under the laser projection. “The doctor will be ready for you in about five minutes, sweetheart. James, it was a pleasure meeting you, and you’re welcome to see her again in post-op.”

“Take good care of her,” James says.

Destine pulls open the door a crack. “You do the same,” he tosses back, and with a quick furtive wink, he slips through.

“I can see you’re in good hands,” James says.

“I really do wish you were here,” Quinn tells her ex-husband. She had no idea that was about to come out of her mouth, but something else is taking control right now. In less than five minutes she is going to be under general anesthesia, and whenever you go completely under, there is a chance—however minor—of crashing and not waking up.

“I do, too,” James says. “I’ll come see you as soon as I’m back.”

“When will that be?”

“Could be as early as tomorrow. Depends on how things go today. I’m pretty sure this whole thing is a dead end, so I think we’ll be in and out.”

“Who are you meeting, anyway?”

“Trust me. You don’t want to hear about it.”

“No, I do,” Quinn says imploringly. “I’m nervous and I have to pee and this needle hurts. I need something to distract me for the next…” She checks her handset on the bed beside her. “Three minutes and forty-five seconds.”

“OK,” James says. “For your ears only, right?”

“Of course.”

“We’re out here making contact with a Japanese scientist who claims he has technology that can send data through time. ‘Time transmission,’ he calls it.”

“What?” Quinn feels as though everything has just shifted. She pushes herself up in bed as if the new perspective might help her reestablish her bearings.

“That was my reaction, too,” James says. “But whatever he gave us was apparently compelling enough for Moretti to send a team out here to vet him.”

“Moretti sent you?”

“The Italian Stallion himself. He said he would’ve sent you if you weren’t on medical leave. Apparently, you’re in his inner circle now.”

“What exactly do you mean by vet?”

“We’re supervising an experiment this guy says will prove the technology works. He’s downstairs testing his equipment now.”

“What kind of experiment?”

“You’re not going to believe me.”

“Try me.”

“The team in Langley has some kind of an empty, sealed container under full surveillance. Our guy here is supposedly going to send a message back in time, and apparently that message is going to appear in the sealed container when we open it. If it works, I guess he’s either telling the truth or he’s a hell of a magician. My guess is that he’s neither, and we’ll all be flying home cargo-class tonight.”

“I don’t understand,” Quinn says. “How does that prove anything?”

“The theory is that he’s going to send a message to whoever sealed the container sometime in the past, telling him to leave something inside. Of course, that’s impossible since we already have footage of the guy sealing it and not putting anything inside.” Something seems to occur to James that he hadn’t thought of before. “I guess the footage could spontaneously change. I don’t know. It’s obviously all bullshit, but apparently the possibility of fucking with time is way too enticing for the agency not to at least follow up on.”

“James,” Quinn says. “Listen to me very carefully. You have to send me everything you have on this guy. Right now.”

“What’s going on with you?” James asks. “You look terrified.”

“Everything. OK? Promise me.”

“Of course. I have to talk to Moretti first, but—”

“No. Don’t. Don’t talk to anyone. Just send everything you have. Right now. You have to promise me.”

The hologram glitches and James turns to look behind him. Quinn sees him nod and wave.

“Quinn, I have to go. We’re about to—”

James Claiborne freezes, glitches a few more times, and then is replaced with the 3D rotating MediPresence logo.

“Shit!”

Quinn detaches the remote from the rail and starts looking for a way to reconnect. When Destine knocks and reenters, Quinn does not look up.

“Hey-hey, girlfriend. Did you two say your goodbyes?”

“We got disconnected,” Quinn says. She sees that Destine is holding a capped syringe. “How do I reconnect?”

“It’s the MRIs upstairs,” Destine explains. He is bedside now, his fingers locating the injection port in the IV tube. “Whenever more than one of them spins up at the same time, the MediPresence systems go berserk. Usually people start looking like Picasso paintings.”

“Don’t do that yet,” Quinn says. The cap is off and lying on the blanket beside her leg, and Destine is lining up the needle. “I have to reconnect.”

“Darling, we can’t wait. The doctor is—”

He is stopped by a piercing broadcast from Quinn’s handset. Even though it is on Do Not Disturb, it is buzzing angrily, and notifications are continuously manifesting. Destine’s hand does not move as Quinn drops the remote and scoops up her phone.

“Get me out of here,” she says. She is