Page 18 of A Ballad of Blackbirds and Betrayal (Dynamis Security #4)
Chapter Nine
Dynamis’s research laboratory occupied the entirety of sublevel three—a massive space divided into specialized sections that would make the CDC envious.
The medical bay alone rivaled most trauma centers Sabrina had worked in, complete with surgical suite and recovery rooms. But it was the biocontainment lab that truly impressed her—cutting-edge equipment arranged with the precision of someone who understood both the science and the practical needs of researchers.
“Impressed?” Jade asked, noting Sabrina’s expression.
“Stunned might be more accurate,” Sabrina admitted, running her fingers along a state-of-the-art centrifuge. “This isn’t standard equipment for a security company.”
“Dynamis isn’t standard anything,” Jade replied, punching in a code to activate the lab systems. As her sleeve rode up, Sabrina noticed a complicated burn scar wrapping around her wrist—old, but severe enough that it must have once threatened function.
The rich brown skin bore the marks of expert surgical repair, and Jade’s movements showed no hint of impairment as she deftly navigated the complex security protocols.
“Atticus built this place to be self-sufficient. After what happened to Jane, he was determined never to be dependent on government resources again.”
The casual reference to Atticus’s deceased wife caught Sabrina off guard. It was the first time anyone had directly acknowledged the woman whose loss had driven Atticus to create Dynamis.
“Did you know her?” Sabrina asked carefully. She moved with the controlled grace developed through years of surgical training, her body finding comfort in the familiar rhythm of preparing a lab.
Something softened in Jade’s normally stoic expression. “Jane recruited me to Dynamis. She handled personnel assessments before…” She paused, absently touching the burn scar on her wrist. “She had an uncanny ability to see through people’s defenses. She’s the reason most of us are here.”
Sabrina nodded, absorbing this information as she calibrated the mass spectrometer. The shadow of Jane Cameron hung over Dynamis—not just in Atticus’s grief, but in the very foundation of the organization.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Jade said, moving toward the door. She paused, her hand on the frame. “You should know—Atticus doesn’t bring outsiders in. Ever. If he’s trusting you with access to this facility, with this mission…” She left the implication hanging.
“I don’t think he had much choice,” Sabrina replied, pulling her hair back into a practical ponytail. “I was involved before he wanted me to be.”
Jade’s expression remained neutral, but something knowing flickered in her eyes. “Your personnel file is impressive. Former Navy lieutenant, right?”
Sabrina nodded, the mention of her military service bringing back memories she rarely discussed. “Lieutenant, Medical Corps. Six years, two deployments to active combat zones in the Middle East.”
“Combat medicine isn’t for the faint hearted,” Jade observed, absently touching the burn scar on her wrist.
“Neither is trauma surgery,” Sabrina replied.
She paused, considering how much to share.
These people had vetted her thoroughly; they probably knew more about her service record than she was comfortable with.
“I wasn’t just patching up soldiers in a safe field hospital.
Our forward surgical team operated less than three miles from active firefights. Sometimes closer.”
“You saw combat,” Jade stated rather than asked.
“More than most medical officers.” Sabrina adjusted the microscope, focusing on the work rather than the memories.
“Special operations required medical personnel with additional training. I volunteered for a joint program—advanced tactical field medicine. They taught us weapons handling, extraction protocols, survival techniques. How to treat catastrophic injuries while under fire.”
“That explains your comfort with tactical situations,” Jade said. “Most civilian doctors would be falling apart by now.”
Sabrina’s mouth curved into a wry smile.
“There was a particular mission in Kandahar Province—three days pinned down with a SEAL team after our extraction was compromised. Two critically wounded operators, limited supplies, and hostiles closing in. When you’ve performed emergency surgery by flashlight while someone provides covering fire, not much rattles you afterward. ”
“Why’d you leave?” Jade’s directness was refreshing after years of colleagues tiptoeing around her military past.
Sabrina’s hands stilled momentarily. “The usual reasons. Wanted to do more research, advance medical protocols for trauma care. And…” she hesitated, then continued with careful neutrality, “…there was an incident. Four casualties we couldn’t save despite everything we tried.
Sometimes you need a change of scenery after something like that. ”
Jade nodded, understanding without requiring details. “Military training, trauma expertise, and experience under fire. No wonder Atticus sees your value beyond the medical knowledge.
“Cal’s sending the data from Cho’s flash drive to your workstation,” she said, changing the subject. “Eden and Nate should have samples within a few hours.” With a final nod, she disappeared through the door, leaving Sabrina alone in the sterile brilliance of the lab.
Alone in the lab, Sabrina lost herself in the familiar rhythm of scientific inquiry.
The molecular diagrams filled her screen, complex and daunting, but not incomprehensible.
Her medical training kicked in, identifying patterns and anomalies, calculating potential counteragents.
She kicked off her heels beneath the workstation, wiggling her toes in relief as she focused on the task at hand.
Hours passed without her notice until the lab door slid open, admitting Eden with two cups of steaming coffee.
“Thought you might need this,” she said, setting one cup beside Sabrina’s workstation. She was still in her tactical gear, the dark fabric contrasting with her olive skin, her fitted tank top revealing the edge of the puckered scar on her chest.
Sabrina accepted the coffee gratefully, suddenly aware of the stiffness in her shoulders and the dryness of her eyes. “Thank you. I didn’t realize it had been that long.” She took a sip, surprised to find it prepared exactly as she preferred—cream, no sugar. Someone had been paying attention.
Eden settled into a chair across from her, studying the molecular diagrams with a deceptively casual air. Up close, the scars were even more dramatic—testament to a violence that should have been fatal. “Making progress?”
“Some,” Sabrina admitted, gesturing to the primary screen where she’d isolated potential binding sites. “The weapon’s structure is unlike anything I’ve seen before. But there are vulnerabilities in the binding mechanism that might be exploitable.”
Eden nodded, her expression revealing nothing of her thoughts. She caught Sabrina’s gaze lingering on her scar and glanced down, touching the edge of it with a slight shrug. “Souvenir from a mission gone wrong.”
The clinical understatement made Sabrina smile despite herself. “That’s a GSW from close range. The fact that you’re alive is nothing short of miraculous.”
“So I’ve been told,” Eden replied, something darkening in her expression before she visibly pushed it aside. “Your Navy file mentioned expertise in chemical countermeasures.”
“You’ve read my file?” Sabrina asked, though she wasn’t particularly surprised.
“We all have,” Eden replied matter-of-factly.
“Standard protocol for anyone joining an operation.” She shifted in her chair, and Sabrina noticed she favored her right side slightly—another lingering effect of old injuries.
“Though I admit yours was more impressive than most. Field trauma surgery under combat conditions isn’t for the faint of heart. ”
“I’m not joining Dynamis,” Sabrina clarified, feeling a need to establish boundaries even as she recognized how hollow the protest sounded. “I’m helping with this specific threat.”
Something like amusement flickered in Eden’s eyes. “That’s how it starts for all of us. A specific threat. A single mission.” She gestured to the lab around them. “Then you realize there’s no going back to normal life.”
The statement hit uncomfortably close to home. Sabrina had tried to focus solely on developing the countermeasure, not on how completely her life had upended in less than twenty-four hours.
“How did you end up here?” she asked, partly from genuine curiosity, partly to deflect from her own uncertainty.
Eden studied her for a long moment, as if weighing what to share.
She absently rubbed her thumb over her wedding ring—a simple gold band that gleamed under the lab lights.
“I was hunting a man who betrayed me,” she finally said, her voice neutral despite the weight of the statement.
“Atticus was hunting him too, for different reasons. Our paths crossed. It turned out we were more effective together than separately.”
“Nate was with him?”
A genuine smile touched Eden’s lips, transforming her serious features and revealing a beauty that her professional demeanor usually concealed. “Nate found me first. He was sent to bring me in for Dynamis. It didn’t go as planned.”
“You resisted?”
“Let’s just say our first meeting involved weapons drawn,” Eden said simply, the slight curve of her lips suggesting there was much more to the story than she was sharing.
Sabrina blinked. “And now you’ve been married for what, eight years?”
“Almost,” Eden confirmed, the smile lingering. “It wasn’t love at first sight. More like…recognition. We understood each other without words.”
The description resonated with Sabrina more than she wanted to admit. That sense of recognition—of seeing beneath the surface to the person underneath—was precisely what had struck her about Atticus from their first meeting.