Page 42 of Double Take

“To do what?” If anything happened to her, he’d never forgive himself.

“Rescue her.”

“You’re going to help me? Why should I believe you?”

“For one, because you don’t have a choice. Unless you can figure out where she is, you need me. Believe it or not, I have empathy for you.”

“The fuck you do.”

“I’ve been where you are.”

“What does that mean?”

Marshall sighed. “I’m a clone, too.”

“What!”

“I’m a clone.”

“Prove it.”

“You know I can’t. You’ll have to accept my word that I’m the third iteration of Marshall Clark. You’re the third Mark Hammond.”

“Third—Hammond isn’t an original?”

“No. Look, I can waste time explaining—or we can get Faith. Which would you prefer?”

Trust didn’t come easy—even when he had all the information, and he had none in this case. This could be a trap. They could be using Faith as bait. Dark Ops might not even have her. But, if he didn’t cooperate, and Marshall was telling the truth, Faith would suffer the consequences. Marshall’s dubious assistance presented the only possible chance for rescue. He hated that he needed him to find Faith, but he had no idea where to begin to look for her.

“All right. Let’s go.”

Marshall pulled a finger-sized cylinder from a pocket. “First, we need to remove our chips.”

“Chips?”

“Everyone in the organization is embedded with a tracking device. That’s how they followed you to this sector from Patagonia. You’re lucky the atmosphere on this planet interferes with electronic signals, or they would have picked you upalready.” He patted the chair. “Sit. The device is embedded at the base of your skull along your hairline.”

Bragg fingered the bump on his nape. It had been there for as long as he could remember. He’d assumed it was a mole or a wart. It would be just like Dark Ops to chip him.

“Sit down. Let me get it.” Marshall motioned impatiently.

Reluctantly, he took the chair. That Marshall would reveal and remove the tracking device added weight to his assertion he’d come to help. But that wasifthere was a tracking device, andifhe intended to remove it. He could be intending to inject him with a knock-out drug or a truth serum.

Nerve endings went on high alert as Marshall stepped behind him. He didn’t like this one bit. Marshall pressed the device to Bragg’s neck. A second later, he felt a sharp sting and then a burning sensation.

“Done.” Marshall showed him a blood-smeared silver disk three to four millimeters in diameter. He deposited the disk into a tiny black-capped vial.

Why was he saving it? “Shouldn’t we destroy it?” he asked.

“We’re going to plant it,” he replied. “Now me.” He handed Bragg the extractor and took his seat. “Press it against the nodule for three seconds. It will extract the chip and then seal the exit wound.”

Bragg pressed the cylinder to the bump on Marshall’s neck as instructed. That his CO had been tagged provided some reassurance he wasn’t being lied to—unless this was all part of the plot to gain his compliance. Dark Ops had conducted some pretty elaborate ruses. He should know—he’d orchestrated some of them.

His CO slipped his tracker into a red-capped vial and pocketed both tiny bottles. “Let’s go.”

Bragg grabbed a duffel and shoved his bowl into it.

“What are you taking that for? Leave it!”

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