Page 18 of Rescued by Four Alphas (Claimed by the Four Alphas #2)

" T his way, Mr. Blackthorn," the guard says as he leads me through a series of security checkpoints.

Each one requires different clearances, different scans, and different procedures.

The Pentagon has fewer security measures than this place.

After the fifth reinforced door clangs shut behind us, the guard turns to me.

"You have thirty minutes—no physical contact with the prisoner. The table has a barrier; don't put your hands across it. There are panic buttons on your side if you need assistance." He recites this like he's reading a grocery list.

"I understand," I say, straightening my tie.

"We'll be watching," he adds, gesturing to the cameras mounted in each corner of the ceiling.

The final door slides open, revealing a small room divided by a metal table bolted to the floor. A clear barrier rises from the center of the table, separating the visitor's side from the prisoners. Hammond isn't here yet.

I take my seat in the uncomfortable metal chair, placing my palms flat on the cold surface of the table. The room smells of disinfectant and stale air. I count the seconds in my head as I wait, focusing on my breath to control the fury threatening to boil over.

After exactly seven minutes, the door on the opposite side opens, and two guards escort Hammond into the room. He shuffles in as the chains between his ankles limit his stride. His hands are cuffed in front of him, and the orange jumpsuit hangs loose on his frame.

Hammond looks thinner than I remember, his cheeks hollow, his once-styled hair now limp and too long, and grey stubble covers his jaw.

He looks like the caricature of his immaculate appearance, which he maintained during his time as a respected scientist. But his eyes - fuck, those soulless eyes have not changed.

They're still cold, withdrawn, and studying everything around.

The guards secure Hammond's cuffs to a ring on the table, then step back to positions near the door. Hammond slowly lowers himself into his chair, wincing slightly. Prison hasn't been kind to him physically, but I know better than to mistake that for weakness.

"Well, well," Hammond says, his voice raspy but still carrying that same arrogance. "The great Evan Blackthorn graces me with his presence. To what do I owe this honor?"

His lips spread in a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

"You know why I'm here," I say, keeping my voice level.

Hammond tilts his head, and his smile spreads wider. "Do I? I've been in this concrete box for eight months, Mr. Blackthorn. I don't exactly keep up with current events."

"Dr. Reid has taken Dahlia."

A flicker of genuine surprise crosses his face before it's replaced by undisguised pleasure. Hammond leans back in his metal chair, and the restraints clank against the table.

"So, the mighty Evan Blackthorn has finally come crawling to me for help," he says, savoring each word. "How deliciously ironic. The billionaire Alpha, who has everything, is reduced to begging a prisoner for scraps of information."

"I'm not begging," I snap.

"You can call it what you want." Hammond's smile grows cruel. "But we both know you wouldn't be sitting across from me if you had any other options. Tell me, how did it happen? Did Reid snatch her right from under your nose… again?"

My jaw clenches so hard I feel a tooth crack. "That's not your concern."

"Oh, but it is," Hammond leans forward, his chains rattling.

"You see, I find it fascinating that you've managed to lose the most valuable Omega on the planet, who is pregnant with four Alpha-sired babies, no less.

You had all your resources, all your money, all your power. .. and still, Reid outsmarted you."

"I didn't come here to be taunted,"

Hammond shrugs. "Then why did you come? Surely you don't expect me to help you out of the goodness of my heart."

"I want information on Reid. His operations, his facilities, and where he might have taken her."

"And what do I get in return?" Hammond raises his eyebrows.

"What do you want?"

Hammond's fingers tap a slow rhythm on the metal table. "I want better accommodations. Access to scientific journals…and a reduced sentence."

"I can arrange the first two," I say. "The third isn't up to me."

"You have the influence," Hammond counters. "Pull some fucking strings. Get me moved to a minimum-security facility. Somewhere with a library and decent food."

I weigh his demands against what his information might be worth. Every minute I spend negotiating is another minute Dahlia remains in Reid's hands.

"I'll see what I can do," I concede finally. "Now tell me about Reid."

Hammond's eyes gleam with victory. "My, how the tables have turned. But I suppose if anyone deserves to suffer in Reid's hands, it's your precious Omega. I wonder if he'll let me visit once he has her properly secured in his lab."

I dig my fingernails into my palms, focusing on that pain rather than the urge to reach across the barrier and tear Hammond's throat out.

"Reid," I prompt, my voice tight.

"Leonard Reid," Hammond says, settling into his chair like he's about to give a lecture.

"He's a brilliant man. Truly brilliant. Did you know he completed his first PhD at nineteen?

It was on genetics. Then another in neurochemistry by twenty-four.

The military recruited him straight out of university. "

"I know his resume," I interrupt. "I want to know where he operates."

"Patience, Evan," Hammond chides. "Context is important.

You need to understand what you're dealing with.

Reid isn't like me." He leans forward, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

"I'm a scientist who's willing to bend ethical constraints to further human knowledge.

Reid... Reid doesn't recognize those ethical constraints at all. "

"The difference seems academic from where I'm sitting."

Hammond laughs at a dry, humorless sound.

"That's because you lack vision. The public thinks I was the mastermind behind the Omega experiments.

Let me tell you something that will shock you.

I was merely the face, or maybe I should say the fundraiser.

The one who secured government contracts and private investments. Reid was always the true architect."

A chill runs through me. If Hammond is to be believed, we've been underestimating Reid from the beginning.

"Why didn't you expose him during your trial?" I ask. "Why take the fall alone?"

"Because Reid protected me," Hammond says simply.

"He made sure certain evidence disappeared.

He testified that I had gone rogue, that he did not know the more.

.. extreme aspects of my research. In exchange, I kept quiet about his involvement.

It was meant to be temporary… he was supposed to arrange my release once the public outrage died down. "

"But he didn't."

"No," Hammond's face darkens. "He abandoned me to rot in this hellhole while he continued our work with government funding and protection. That's the man who has your Omega, Evan. A man who betrays even his most loyal associates when they become inconvenient."

I file this information away for later. Hammond's bitterness might work to my advantage.

"Where would he take her?" I press.

"Reid has been building a network of facilities across the country," Hammond says, picking at a loose thread on his jumpsuit. "Each one more sophisticated than the last. With his shell companies, government grants, private donors, he's amassed quite the research empire."

"And, do you know the locations?" I demand.

"There's a facility in New Mexico disguised as a remote wellness retreat.

There's another in northern Michigan that operates as a private psychiatric hospital.

A research station in Alaska that supposedly studies climate change.

" Hammond ticks them off on his fingers.

"But none of those would be suitable for his plans for Dr. Baldwin. "

"Where then?"

"Ahhh, yes… he's a masterpiece," Hammond says with something like pride in his voice.

"It's a fully equipped medical research center in Montana, built on an abandoned military base that the government claims doesn't exist. Three levels above ground, and five below.

It has specialized medical equipment for what Reid euphemistically calls 'enhanced interrogation,' and holding cells designed specifically for shifters. "

My stomach drops. "How do you know all this if you've been imprisoned?"

"Reid used to visit me," Hammond says. "For the first few months, he came regularly.

He kept me updated on his progress and assured me he was working on my release.

He liked to boast about his achievements, and he showed me pictures of his facilities.

I think he enjoyed having an audience who truly appreciated the magnitude of his work. "

"When did he stop visiting?"

"About four months ago," Hammond's face sours. "Right after he secured full government backing for Project Resonance."

"Project Resonance?"

"It's what we call Reid's grand vision," Hammond explains.

"The weaponization of the Alpha-Omega bond.

He theorized that an Omega in a controlled environment could be used to manipulate multiple Alphas simultaneously.

Imagine an army of enhanced Alpha soldiers, their aggression and physical abilities amplified beyond normal limitations, all controlled through a single Omega. "

"That's insane," I say, but even as the words leave my mouth, I know it's not impossible. I've experienced firsthand how Dahlia's presence affects me and how her distress can trigger my most primal instincts.

"Is it?" Hammond's eyes gleam. "Think about it.

How strong is your bond with Dr. Baldwin?

What would you do if she were in pain? How far would you go to protect her?

Now multiply that by hundreds, thousands of bonded pairs.

.. and give someone the power to control those bonds. That's what Reid is after."

"And Dahlia?" I force myself to ask, dreading the answer. "Why her specifically?"

"Because she's unique," Hammond says. "An Omega who can sustain multiple bonds with different Alphas? Who's carrying children with combined Alpha genetics? She's the breakthrough Reid has been searching for."

My hands clench into fists beneath the table. "Has he done this before?"

A slow, cruel smile spread across Hammond's face. "Oh yes. There's no science without trial, is there? He's taken several. Reid has been collecting them for months. But none survived the experimental procedures."

The room seems to drop several degrees. "What procedures?"

"First, he isolates them from their Alphas…studies how the separation affects both parties. Then he introduces synthetic hormones to manipulate the bond and tests its limits. Then finally, he induces early labor."

"Why?"

"Don't be so dumb, Evan, to study the fetus while they're still developing, of course.

" Hammond watches my reaction with obvious enjoyment.

"Their unique genetic structures, their responses to stimuli, their potential for enhancement.

Reid believes the key to his research lies in the partially formed bond markers present in fetal tissue. "

My vision blurs red. "What about the mothers?"

Hammond shrugs. "Once they've delivered, they're still valuable. Their bodies can be used for breeding more subjects. Reid has developed a procedure to reset an Omega's reproductive cycle. Theoretically, a single Omega could produce multiple experimental subjects per year."

The casual way Hammond describes this horror breaks something loose inside me.

Up until now, I've maintained control, focused on extracting information.

But the image of Dahlia strapped to a table, our children cut off from her body, and her body used as nothing more than a breeding vessel pissed me off.

I lunge across the table, my hands slipping past the barrier before the guards can react. My fingers close around Hammond's throat, squeezing with all the rage of an Alpha whose mate is threatened.

"You sick fuck," I snarl, tightening my grip.

Hammond laughs even as I choke him, his eyes bulging but still gleaming with delight. "K-killing me w-won't... save her," he wheezes.

Guards rush in, shouting orders I barely hear. Hands grab my shoulders, pulling me back. I resist as much as I can. Every instinct demands that I crush this threat, end this man who speaks so calmly about torturing my mate.

"Mr. Blackthorn! Release the prisoner immediately!" A guard shouts in my ear.

With supreme effort, I loosen my grip. Hammond gasps, coughing as he slumps back. The guards drag me away from the table, pinning my arms behind my back.

"Get him out of here," one of them orders.

"Wait," I snap, straining against their hold. "I need the exact location of the Montana facility."

Hammond rubs his throat, that infuriating smile still on his face despite the red marks my fingers left.

"Northwest Montana," he rasps. Near the Canadian border.

An old nuclear missile silo complex was decommissioned in the eighties.

The government officially sold it to a private agricultural research company, but that's just a front for Reid's operation. "

"What are the coordinates?" I demand.

"I don't have them memorized," Hammond admits. "But it's within fifty miles of Kalispell. Reid called it 'Site R.' That's all I know."

The guards start pulling me toward the door.

"One more thing," I call over my shoulder. "How extensive is his security?"

"What do you expect?" Hammond answers. "There will be armed guards, surveillance systems, and biometric access controls. And he has government backing now, so if you go in guns blazing, you'll be facing federal charges. Not that it matters… you'll never get past the outer perimeter."

"We'll see about that," I mutter.

As the guards escort me through the doorway, Hammond calls after me. "I hope Reid lets me watch when they dissect your babies, Blackthorn! I've always wondered if Alpha traits are observable in the second trimester!"