Lethal Memory (A Counterstrike Novel Book 2)
Cover Copy
Will a cure for humanity be the death of her?
For biology professor Riley Adair, the stakes are high—and very personal—when she discovers a potential cure for dementia. News of her groundbreaking progress leaks out, and the consequences turn deadly. Someone is determined to claim her work and will stop at nothing—including kidnapping—to get it. But Riley’s abductors make a critical error, leaving her with no memory at all . . .
Counterstrike, a covert search and rescue team, is called in to save her. While her rescue goes smoothly, Riley is left defenseless against powerful enemies who still want the formula locked inside her brain. Dr. Noah Kimball, the agency’s medic, risks everything—including his own life—to protect her. As danger mounts, so does a passion they can’t deny.
In a race against time, Riley fights to recover her memory, while Noah fears he won’t be able to save the woman he has grown to love—and know—better than she knows herself.
“Jannine Gallant gives you a satisfying read.”—Kat Martin, New York Times bestselling author
“Jannine Gallant is an exciting new voice in romantic suspense.”—Mary Burton, New York Times bestselling author
“Every Step She Takes delivers enough twists and turns to keep the reader guessing until the end.”—Nancy Bush, New York Times bestselling author
“Every Move She Makes will have you looking over your shoulder long after the lights go out.”—Nancy Bush, New York Times bestselling author
“Jannine Gallant is a talented author who knows how to grab your attention and keeps the suspense in high gear until the end.”—RT Book Reviews on Buried Truth
“Gallant’s well-wrought second Siren Cove contemporary…will keep the reader enthralled until the explosive conclusion.”—Publishers Weekly on Lost Innocence
“The novel’s best quality is the relationship between Nina and Teague…A pleasing romantic story.”—Kirkus Reviews on Lost Innocence
“In Gallant’s gripping third Siren Cove romantic thriller…mystery adds intensity to this fast-faced story.”—Publishers Weekly on Hidden Secrets
Books by Jannine Gallant
Counterstrike
Fatal Encounter
Siren Cove
Buried Truth
Lost Innocence
Hidden Secrets
Born To Be Wilde
Wilde One
Wilde Side
Wilde Thing
Wilde Horses
Who’s Watching Now
Every Move She Makes
Every Step She Takes
Every Vow She Breaks
Secrets Of Ravenswood
We’ll Never Tell
She’ll Never Rest
He’ll Never Know
Redemption Texas
Nothing But Trouble
Asking For Trouble
A Deadly Love
Road To Serendipity
An Uncertain Destiny
Bittersweet
LETHAL MEMORY
A Counterstrike Novel
Jannine Gallant
Table of Contents
Cover Copy
Other Books
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Coming Soon
About the Author
Copyright
Lethal Memory
Copyright © 2019 by Jannine Gallant
This book is a work of fiction and all characters exist solely in the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any references to places, events or locales are used in a fictitious manner.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from Jannine Gallant.
Cover Art by Creative Author Services
Published by Jannine Gallant
United States of America
First Electronic Edition: October 2019
First Print Edition: October 2019
ISBN-13: 9781689799997
Dedication
To my daughter, Tara, who provided insight into how dementia works and told me when I was way off base! I appreciate your helpful suggestions. Wishing you much success as you conquer the next phase of your life!
Chapter One
Time was running out.
Riley Adair took precious seconds to study the transcription repressor formula on the computer screen—data she’d gone over a thousand times and had thoroughly memorized—then deleted the file. Typing rapidly with shaking hands, she pulled up the folder filled with her research notations and scrolled through the notes, making certain she knew every bit of the contents before hitting the delete key. Had she forgotten anything?
God, she hoped not.
The rhythmic pounding on the door grew louder. The steel rod jammed into the frame wouldn’t hold for long. Dampened by nervous sweat, her shirt clung to her skin beneath her sweater, cold and clammy as shivers ran down her spine.
No more time!
Smoke from the pile of burning notebooks flaming on the lab table reached the detector on the ceiling. The alarm emitted a piercing beep-beep-beep. Ignoring the screeching noise, she opened the command to reset her computer to factory specifications. An irreversible step to make certain no one could steal the information on the hard drive.
Trust your memory. It’s never let you down before.
With a finger that trembled, she pushed the button. When the computer prompted are you sure, she tapped yes, and the screen went black. All her research gone in an instant. Taking the flash drive from her pocket, she dropped it on the floor, lifted a heavy brass bookend from the shelf over her desk, and smashed it down, crushing her final backup device into bits.
She’d done everything possible to ensure her work didn’t fall into the wrong hands. Maybe she’d been a fool not to share her latest test results, but confiding in the wrong person could have landed her in prison. Worse, it might have slowed any chance for her grandfather’s recovery.
She certainly hadn’t anticipated the current nightmare.
The door splintered and burst inward. Two men dressed in black plunged through the opening. One ran straight to the computer while the other approached her slowly, holding an ugly, silver-barreled revolver pointed straight at her chest. Putting up a fight would be utterly futile. Riley flattened against the wall and stretched her arms to her sides. Noncombative. Defenseless.
Stay alive.
In the big picture, her research was all that mattered. The immunoresponse therapy that would reverse dementia once she worked out all the bugs. Her grandfather’s short-term results had surpassed even her wildest expectations.
“Shit!” The shout of pure rage erupted from the compact man at the computer. He slammed his fist down on the desk. “She wipe
d it clean.”
“I’m sure there’s a backup drive.” The man holding the gun didn’t even blink.
“She damn well better have copies.” The first one raised his voice to be heard over the alarm as he came over to pat her down. Taking her phone from the pocket of her wool pants, he tossed it on the stack of burning notebooks.
The one with the gun was young, probably not much older than most of her students. Hazel eyes bore into hers. “Where’s your backup drive, huh, bitch?”
Riley remained mute, staring at him as her heart pounded erratically.
Holstering his weapon, he reached for her wrist and jerked her away from the wall to twisted her arm behind her back. Pain ripped through her shoulder, and a cry wrenched from her throat.
“I’m sure she has duplicates of everything at her house.” The man who seemed to be in charge kicked pieces of the flash drive, sending them skidding across the tile floor. “We’ll find what we came for. It may take longer than I expected, but we’ll get that data.”
“Want me to make her talk?” The younger one gave her arm another yank.
Riley swayed, lightheaded. Her eyes watered as smoke filled the room.
His partner pulled open her desk drawers and sorted through the contents. “No time. Take the woman to the plane. I’ll follow once I’ve searched her house. Make sure to keep her quiet. We can’t assume the security guard you took out is the only one on duty, and with that damn alarm blaring, the fire department is sure to be on the way. The cops, too.”
“Don’t worry. She won’t make a peep.” His lips curved in a feral grin as he leaned in close to her face. “Because if you do, I’ll hurt you real bad. Let’s go.”
Gripping her shoulder with a hand that smelled faintly of gasoline, he hustled her down the dimly lit hallway to the stairs and out through a side entrance. Cold air slapped her in the face and chilled her to the bone. Her chunky knit sweater was all she wore to combat the late October wind off the bay. In the distance, sirens wailed.
He pulled out his revolver and prodded her with the barrel. “Move it, lady.”
Riley quickened her pace only slightly, praying the approaching emergency vehicles would arrive before they reached his car. Nothing stirred in the night except a few dead leaves as he hurried her along the brick path. An occasional light pole illuminated the centuries’ old, stone facades of the buildings that made up the campus of Trimountaine University.
When a group of students left the library, talking and laughing together, to head across the lawn toward the dorms, her pulse sped up. The man tightened his hold on her and jammed the barrel of the gun into her ribs. Pain ricocheted through her, and she bit back a cry.
“Don’t do anything stupid.” His voice was low.
The kids were a good twenty yards away. One of the boys glanced toward her and waved. Riley recognized Joey, a big freshman who played hockey and excelled in her intro to biology class. When he turned a second time to look over his shoulder, the man pressed harder with the revolver, digging it into her side, and her breath whooshed out.
“Wave and smile, or I swear to God, I’ll shoot all three of them.”
Riley couldn’t risk it. She raised her hand and waved.
“Smart.” As the students strolled in the opposite direction, he hurried her the last few yards to the street, pushed her into the back seat of a brown sedan, and slammed the door. Moments later, two fire engines rounded the corner at the end of the block, sirens blaring.
Where the hell are the police?
Riley reached for the door handle, but the latch clicked uselessly in her hand.
The thug slid behind the wheel. “Gotta love those child safety locks.” Before the trucks came to a complete stop, he pulled away from the curb.
Riley pounded on the side window that wouldn’t lower, but the firefighters were scrambling to pull out their equipment. None of them noticed her in the commotion as the car accelerated down the street.
“There’s nothing back there to use as a weapon, and your fists won’t have much effect, other than to piss me off. Just sit tight and enjoy the ride since it’s likely to be your last.” He glanced at her through the rearview mirror. “Unless you use that pretty head of yours and agree to cooperate with us.”
They would kill her whether she cooperated or not. Riley had no illusions on that front. Her only chance was to outsmart them, to convince them they needed her alive.
The car cruised northwest out of Cambridge, not toward Boston and Logan International. They were probably headed to one of the small, municipal airports in the suburbs where they would attract little notice, if any, at this hour of the night.
She closed her eyes for a moment and wondered why Charles hadn’t called the police. Or maybe he had, and they’d simply arrived on the scene too late. She’d texted her research assistant right after she’d called security, too intent on destroying her records to waste time explaining the situation to a 9-1-1 operator.
A lump formed in her throat, and Riley blinked back tears, picturing the craggy features and kind eyes of the retired police officer who patrolled the university grounds at night. Had her panicked call to the security office right after she’d received the anonymous email gotten the grandfather of four killed?
The bastard slowed the car to exit the freeway and took his attention away from the road to study her in the rearview mirror. The hint of excitement in his eyes sent chills through her. She crossed her arms over her chest and huddled in the corner of the seat.
She had no idea where they were taking her, or who had orchestrated the kidnapping. The email had only warned that her research was in imminent danger of being compromised. She’d acted precipitously to safeguard her work . . . without considering whether the consequences of her actions could prove to be fatal.
A phone rang, jarred Riley out of her morose thoughts.
Her captor lifted his cell to his ear. “Any luck?” He slowed further as they drove through a small town, the sidewalks deserted at this hour. “I’ll be at the airfield in under ten minutes. Want me to pry the information out of her? It shouldn’t take long.” He was silent for a few seconds. “Fine. I’ll get back to you shortly.”
He disconnected and stepped on the gas. “My associate didn’t find anything at your home. You could save yourself a lot of trouble—not to mention pain—if you tell me where you hid your backup drive. Of course, then I wouldn’t have the fun of making you talk.”
“There are no backups.” Riley stared at the dark blur of trees outside the window as they left the town behind before turning to face forward.
“Lying isn’t going to help you. Just the opposite.” He smirked at her in the rearview mirror. “But I don’t mind doing this the hard way. It’s your funeral.”
Tears burned behind her eyes, and a chill shook her.
Minutes later, they rounded a bend and turned onto an access road. Low lights glowed along the length of an airstrip, and a dark bulk Riley assumed to be a hanger was just visible. A chain link fence stopped them before they reached the tarmac. Her abductor grabbed a pair of bolt cutters off the passenger seat floor, stepped out of the car, and hustled toward the gate where a chain and lock secured the entrance to the field.
Her pulse leapt as survival mode kicked in. She wouldn’t get a better chance.
Riley squeezed between the two front seats. Heart hammering, she shoved the car into reverse and stomped on the gas without bothering to shut the door. The tires squealed as she shot backward down the road. Turned sideways in the seat, she focused on where she was going as the shouts behind her grew fainter.
Swinging out onto the main road, she gripped the steering wheel to keep from falling out of the car and finally managed to shut the door. She’d just shifted into drive when headlights nearly blinded her as a car rounded the bend. Brakes shrieked. She jerked the wheel hard and veered off the pavement, stopping just short of hitting a tree.
“Are you freaking crazy?” the driver yelled, hi
s words faint and slurring. “Where’s a cop when you need one?” The drunk rolled up his window and drove away.
The measured slap of footfalls grew closer.
No. No. No. Her breath coming in harsh gasps, Riley backed toward the road. As she bumped through a shallow ditch, the undercarriage scraped bottom. Finally reaching the pavement, she shifted into gear.
The door beside her opened, and the thug gripped her arm in a bruising hold. “Bitch!” He dragged her out as the car rolled forward.
She hit the pavement with a thump, and the air escaped her lungs. Her vision blurred as he swung his fist straight at her head. Pain exploded behind her eyes. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted before the world dissolved around her . . .
* * * *
“Can I interrupt you, Patch?” Scarlet paused in the doorway of his office at Counterstrike headquarters. “We have a new case. At least I think we do.”
Noah Kimball glanced up from the book he’d been reading and frowned as his friend and colleague entered the room. “I thought you left hours ago.”
Wearing skinny jeans and a sweater, she hitched her hip onto the corner of his desk. “I did, but then Eli and I decided to spend the night in Boston instead of driving home to Cape Cod. I’m glad I was still in the city when this call came in.”
“You couldn’t give us the details over the phone?” Noah glanced at his watch. After midnight. He’d lost track of time, immersed in espionage and mayhem.
“The guy who contacted us about the kidnapping lives pretty close, so I’m meeting him here.”
Swinging his legs off the old leather couch where he’d stretched out to read, his feet hit the floor with a thump. “If we have a rescue mission, why hasn’t Wolf notified the whole team? You know how critical time is. Every second counts.”