The Shadow Project Read Free

before.”
    â€œActually,” Carradine said, unfazed, “Mossad thinks it’s the real deal this time, hence the urgency. So if you two are okay with it, maybe we should get started.”
    Opal slumped down in her chair. She didn’t want to complain too much or Michael might think she was a bit of a brat, and she didn’t want that, certainly not on their first mission together. She grinned at him. “I’ll try not to put too much strain on you,” she said, then groaned inwardly at her lame attempt at a joke.
    Michael looked as if he might say something, but when he did, it was only a sober “Thank you,” which was not a satisfactory response at all. Annoyingly, he looked at Mr. Carradine, who nodded. Michael sat down in the other chair, then redeemed himself at once by turning to stare directly into her eyes. He gave her the smile again, then turned away. But they were still sitting close, almost shoulder to shoulder. She could smell his cologne. Normally she hated boys who used cologne, but this one was rather nice, spicy and subtle.
    Carradine adjusted the helmets for both of them. The metal skullcaps were always icy cold, and their trailing filaments were irritating until they connectedwith the microchip implants in her scalp. She waited patiently while he made the electrical connections, then watched out of the corner of her eye while he did the same for Michael. “Comfortable?” he asked them both when he had finished.
    She disliked the gel—she had to shower after every mission to get it out of her hair—but since the equipment wouldn’t work without it, she just said, “Yes.”
    â€œYes,” Michael echoed confidently.
    Out of the corner of her eye she saw Fran come in. Fran usually took care of operations once Mr. Carradine finished the initial setup. After a moment she heard the whine of the generator, closely followed by the distinctive tone of the Hemi-Sync. “Good luck,” Michael murmured, then closed his eyes as per standard procedure. Opal did the same. There was a brief moment of disorientation, but almost at once she felt the warm, pleasant flood of relaxation as their brain waves synchronized. Opal let out a long, sighing breath. The sensation was almost as if Michael had crept into her head and was now hugging her. Not telepathy, exactly—but she could sense the close connection of his presence and his warmth. She felt as if she’d known him for years.
    â€œHere we go,” said Carradine, and he threw more switches.
    He must have gotten the Hemi-Sync under control, because suddenly she could see the hazy flutter of the threshold guardians. Not for the first time, she thought they looked like little bats.

4
Danny, the Shadow Project
    I t was like being back in court, except it wasn’t. More like the Spanish Inquisition. Or the interrogation room at his local cop-shop. He knew these characters well. Not by name, of course, but you could spot the types a mile away.
    Take the goons by the door. Beefy. Big chests. Sharp suits just a shade too tight so you could admire their muscles. You saw the type employed as bouncers outside clubs, throwing their weight around and showing off for the girls. You saw it in the drug gangs too, minders for the pushers. And you got it with certain cops at the precinct as well, not the brightest bulbs in the sockets, but great when you wanted to break a door down or scare somebody rigid, the way Danny was now. These two stood like sentries in the doorway, faces blank, arms crossed, all ready to make sure young Danny Lipman didn’t make a break for it. Flattering to think it took twoof them, but that didn’t make him feel any less nervous.
    The ones behind the desk were familiar types as well: Good Cop, Bad Cop, only Bad Cop was a woman. Nice looking too, if she’d only crack a smile, but you could tell from the shoes you wouldn’t want to mess with her. Good Cop was