Invasion of Justice (Shadows of Justice) Read Online Free PDF Page B

We did our best. Now their lives are up to each of them."
    "We failed," she cried. "He's in prison and she's not strong enough to resist whatever turned him."
    "You don't know that these two events are related," Randall said gently.
    "They must be. She's always so open, so vulnerable. It's only a matter of time." Pamela slipped away from Randall to Petra's abandoned laptop. She ejected the card from the x-drive and toyed with it. "Remember our dreams? They were supposed to work together."
    "On what?" Gideon asked his empty room.
    He watched Pamela insert the x-card and open the file.
    "Don't play it, love. She's not here."
    Confused, Gideon tweaked the angle and refreshed the image from the bedroom camera. Petra lay on the bed, her breathing shallow but steady. She looked 'here' enough to him.
    Pamela shook her platinum blonde head. "It's the principle. It's the only thing I can do for her."
    Classical music filled Petra's suite. Did Nate's sister have to be so damned refined? He considered Nate a friend, a term with serious implications in their line of work, but they'd never swapped personal info. Thank God.
    Mom and Pop Cynical clearly had no idea what their son was capable of. Or who he worked for.
    Of course, at the moment, Gideon wouldn't swear to know those answers either.
    Muting the crappy music, he kept an eye on them as they snooped through Petra's suite while he did his own snooping online.
    Petra enjoyed the distinctive escape from the confines of body and environment. She focused on Nathan's face and her love for her brother. She found him in a prison cell, his back to the world.
    I'm here Nate.
    Her mental greeting met an unfamiliar hard shell. Petra pushed aside her lingering grief and seized on her irritation with his pity party.
    Let me help you.
    He rolled over and she gasped. His face was black and blue, his nose broken. The arm drooping from the metal bunk showed the first vicious tracks of behavior modification injections.
    Irritation became indignation, which surged into temper.
    Go away.
    The broken words, though weak, were well timed. Nathan's mental shove took advantage of her negative emotions and sent her winging away.
    She listened for her music to guide her back to her body, but only silence answered. Knowing anxiety wouldn't help, she relaxed and reached out in search of another anchor.
    She bounced off full-blown anger radiating around her parents. She sent them a mental hug and moved on. Her links to Kincaid and Kelly were too weak and her intense connection to Gideon scared her. There had to be another touchstone somewhere.
    Instinct led her back to Nathan, but to an earlier time. She saw him enter his building at Quantico, greet his assistant and General Hawthorne, then sort through the papers on his desk. She felt his normal pleasant mood shift as he read an urgent briefing from the Marine Commandant about juicing.
    Then the fire alarm sounded and his heart quickened as he exited the building with his co-workers.
    The harsh bells gave way to the opening notes of Mozart's Requiem and her spirit soared toward it. She loved returning to herself along this musical path.
    She felt the mistake almost immediately. The surroundings were off. She could smell a damp, hot mildew. She thrashed helplessly against bindings and the scent of fear on her skin.
    She felt physically weak and mentally exhausted. Her breathing came in spasms and tears rolled down her cheeks. There was no point in calling for help, her mouth was stuffed with some cloth that tasted of menthol.
    Her shirtsleeve was torn from when he dragged her into the car. Her pants were cold and wet. Great. She'd peed herself. How gross.
    The vocabulary tipped her off. A bad dream, Petra told herself. She'd just slipped into the nearby reality of a recent victim. Quieting her mind, she heard the music, the Requiem, but it wasn't the clear, digital version she'd programmed herself. This must be the captor's musical preference. Shivering at that