Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

Generations Unbound: Project: Generations, #2
Generations Unbound: Project: Generations, #2
Generations Unbound: Project: Generations, #2
Ebook335 pages5 hours

Generations Unbound: Project: Generations, #2

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars

()

Read preview

About this ebook

LA. Montana. Virginia. Colorado. Jonathan Cross must find a new home for himself and his new charge, Gabriela DeLuna, after the tragic events that shattered his world. The decorated Special Forces Army Captain must learn a new skill set, how to blend in with his new cover as an older brother to Gabriela and keep her safe after an attempt was made for her. Who is after her and why? Do they know where they are? 

After Gabriela makes a shocking discovery, Jonathan’s circle continues to splinter around him. Trusts are betrayed, lines are crossed, and the word family is pushed to the limit. Jonathan is driven to make the devastating decision to run and keep Gabriela or be forced into doing something he knows isn’t right but has to be done before the opportunity slips through his fingers. Will he finally be able to confront Penn? 

Generations Unbound, the second book in the Project: Generations Series will answer questions while still leave you guessing and take you on a journey and keep you hanging on until the last sentence. Grab your copy today and follow the breadcrumb trail left behind by Christina Aarons. 

** WARNING: This book does end in a cliffhanger that is revealed in Book Three. **

LanguageEnglish
PublisherJ.A. Stinger
Release dateJul 8, 2016
ISBN9781535131278
Generations Unbound: Project: Generations, #2
Author

J.A. Stinger

I started writing seriously after being diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis and craved a creative outlet. I am a wife, mother, and military veteran. I write with my husband, Philip, and we discusses all manners of creative ideas, plots, characters, twists together. We lived in the Midwest before moving to the Atlanta Metro area. We met on an online writing forum and have been together ever since.

Related to Generations Unbound

Titles in the series (2)

View More

Related ebooks

Science Fiction For You

View More

Related articles

Reviews for Generations Unbound

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars
0 ratings

0 ratings0 reviews

What did you think?

Tap to rate

Review must be at least 10 words

    Book preview

    Generations Unbound - J.A. Stinger

    DEDICATION

    This novel is dedicated to my Aunt Kitty.

    I have never met a gentler soul or a kinder person.

    Words cannot express how much your quiet presence in my life has inspired me.

    I love you.

    ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

    Cover Art: Deranged Doctor Design (www.derangeddoctordesign.com)

    Edited by: Harmony Kent (http://www.harmonykent.co.uk/)

    Special Thanks to Blaire Sharpe for being an amazing source of inspiration and encouragement.

    CHAPTER ONE

    California

    All right— The sound of a single gunshot cut short Christina Aarons’ words. Her partner, Jonathan Cross, heard the shot just before she spoke; the unmistakable sound of a rifle, like a bullwhip cracking right next to the ear. A fraction of a second too slow, Cross grabbed a handful of her sleeve. From the way she crumpled forward, the shot must have come from behind—the shooter good or lucky, judging by the way Aarons’ body dropped limp to the concrete. The torque from Cross’ too-late grip caused Aarons to twist to her side; cheek pressed against the rough sidewalk, and eyes agape, lifeless. The expanding pool of blood beneath her stained the beige of the sidewalk cement crimson.

    #

    Panic spread through the crowd like a spark in a hayloft and rippled to wash over Gabriela, seated at a table nearby. She jumped at the screaming, fleeing mass and scrunched her nose. Her hands reached up and jerked her ear buds loose; long chestnut brown hair spilled from under the gray hoodie while dark green eyes scanned the crowd.

    Gabriela caught sight of the blonde woman lying on the sidewalk. A man with short, dark brown hair and wearing a suit crouched beside her, gun in hand, eyes to the sky, and fingers beneath her jaw. Hey, Gabriela called. She ran from her table, leaving her laptop behind. It took a few seconds to cross the fifteen feet between her and the crouching man. Her tennis shoes bit into the concrete, and Gabriela came to a sharp stop. When she tried to roll the woman over, her hands came away slick with bright red blood.

    The screech of Gabriela’s shoes brought the man’s emerald green eyes back to the young woman. She’s dead. He pulled his hand away. We need to get you out of here, Miss DeLuna. Cross stood, grabbed a fistful of her dark gray hoodie, and jerked, pulling her with him until he pressed his back against a car parked at the curb. Another shot rang through the air. The sidewalk where she’d stood a second before erupted into a fountain of shrapnel.

    Gabriela’s eyes moved to look at her hands. Christina’s blood smeared both palms. Numb and in shock, she shifted her hands back and forth to look at the front and sides of her hand. Whoa, she whispered and looked at Jonathan. Her dilated pupils turned her eyes black.

    #

    It took Cross’ mind two seconds to register what had happened. Fuck. He pulled off her hoodie and used it to wipe away the blood, and then let the garment fall to the pavement. Another shot slammed into the metal of the car inches from his head. Sirens trumpeted their wail in the distance. He looked at Christina and swallowed before gritting his teeth and tossing the waif of a girl over his shoulder. I hope you’re worth this, kid. He took off at a sprint, fueled by adrenaline and anger. One hand gripped her, and the other, his gun.

    City blocks blurred past in record time. Cross bumped the girl’s head on the car while he shoved her into the back seat like a frat boy with a roofied date. He slid across the hood and hopped behind the wheel just as the police sped by on their way to the murder scene. A few concerned pedestrians looked his way while he drove off, one eye on the road and another on the rear view mirror, but no one seemed to pay too much attention.

    Cross put the gun on the passenger seat and pulled a flip phone from his pocket. With steady hands, he pushed the one speed dial on the phone, turned on the speaker, and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. Jonathan, Zak’s voice came across the tiny speaker, which diminished the man’s usual boaster, but he sounded no less cheery.

    Need clean evac. Cross cut off any further words from the other end. Zone hot. Hostiles and local law enforcement. Two packages.

    Understood. Wait one. A long silence ensued from Zak while Jonathan drove, using all the control he possessed to drive like a man out for a mere spin. Long Beach Harbor. Pier G. The Aegean Veer.

    Copy. Going dark, forty-eight. Cross killed the line and popped the battery. He reasserted his focus on driving and picked an indirect route. An occasional whimper drifted from the backseat.

    CHAPTER TWO

    Virginia

    A large man handled the phones. Or perhaps the room appeared small and the desk tiny due to his size. Understood. Wait one. Zak muted one phone and lifted the phone in his other hand to his ear. The device rang, and the voice came across clear when it hit his ear.

    Go, the gruff voice barked across the line.

    Two, hot exfil. Los Angeles, Zak said in a short tone to match.

    Copy. Harbor at Long Beach. The Aegean Veer. He paused. Pier G. Confirm.

    Confirmed. Long Beach Harbor, Pier G. Aegean Veer. He disconnected the call on one phone and picked up the other. Alex opened the office door and glided in, mouth open to speak, but a raised finger silenced her. Zak unmuted and parroted back the information to Jonathan.

    He tossed the phone on the desktop before sitting back in his chair and looking at Alex with a sigh. Her silence met with his. They stared at one another for ten long seconds before she pushed the door closed. The echo of the door closing hung in the air thick with anticipation.

    The closed door muted the din of the Friday night bar crowd. A great cloud of pointed quiet floated between them. Z, who? she asked as she pointed at the phone while she approached his desk, one foot after the other, until she leaned on its edge with her hip. She crossed her arms. The painted on jeans gave truth to her athletic frame. Dark eyes narrowed with annoyance. Her long hair, which held an auburn tinge, hung in a thick braid.

    Ah, Jonathan. Trouble in LA. They’re gettin’ out on a ship headed north to Vancouver, though. He cleared his throat and forced a smile before he ran a hand over his bald head.

    Everyone okay? What kind of trouble? Alex frowned as she found her way to one of the chairs across the desk from him.

    The big man shook his head before he answered. Don’t know, girl. He didn’t say, and I didn’t ask. Got him the exit. When he calls back, I’ll let you know.

    Alex leaned forward with narrowed eyes. She arched a brow and rested her elbows on the edge of his desk. You keeping anything from me, Z? Dish. Full story. What aren’t you saying?

    Zak sighed and rubbed his face with a large hand. Ya know they flew to pick up some kid, right? Alex nodded. Well, boyo said two needed out. And he said local law enforcement. He frowned and looked at the phone in the middle of his desk. Two outta three gettin’ out and cops in the mix. It don’t sound good.

    Alex gasped as her hands darted to cover her mouth. Oh, God, Z. Oh, no.

    He waved a hand and looked across the desk at her. Now, now. We don’t know anything. No use in gettin’ worried. Look, how ‘bout you head on home, huh?

    Alex nodded and rose from the chair with a slack, blank expression. She headed toward the office door with a wave in his direction. Yeah, okay. S-see ya tomorrow, Z.

    Alex didn’t know how she made it back to her condo or when she peeled off the jeans and top. She turned the television to CNN before heading into her bathroom. The reporters blabbed, yet none of it relevant to Los Angeles. Alex stood in her bedroom and dried off with the cold air assaulting her skin, but she welcomed the sensation. Two hours after the phone call from the West Coast and nothing on the news. Alex frowned and grabbed her phone from the bedside table and dialed a number from memory as she muted the television.

    McIntyre, coding in. One-eight-seven-eight-three-two-five, she said in a sterile tone. She paused, staring at the flickering images on the screen. Secure the line. Another pause. Inquiry. Los Angeles, seventeen-hundred to nineteen-hundred local time. All channels, all reports.

    Alex frowned and turned the television off before she headed into the bathroom again, phone pinned between her shoulder and ear. Confirmed. Holding for results. She put the phone on the counter and pressed a Bluetooth ear bud into her ear.

    Fifteen minutes later, a flicker of a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Affirmative, still holding. She nodded a few times as she watched herself in the mirror. Surreal, the way she watched the smile melt from her lips before she felt it happen. Thank you, McIntyre out. She hit the big red button on her phone to disconnect the line, removed the ear bud from her ear, and placed it on the bathroom sink next to the phone.

    Alex’s lashes clung to the unshed tears as she shambled halfway back to her bed. The information remained thin. But the details: absence of police report, no official record of the shooting, and scattered eyewitness accounts. Alex crawled into her bed and lay facing the large sliding doors, staring at nothing and everything. Anger comforted her and kept the anguish away.

    She pulled herself from bed and ran the water again for another shower, a cold one. It provided clarity of mind to decide to get to Montana no matter what happened in Los Angeles. She needed answers.

    After the shower, Alex dialed a number on her phone from memory. Yes, what’s your next flight to Seattle?

    2:14 PM, ma’am. There are plenty of seats available, the man on the phone answered.

    She wrapped her hair in the towel and picked through her dresser. Business class, one passenger. Alexandra McIntyre.

    The man’s voice changed to a more cheerful tone. Ah, Miss McIntyre, I thought it was you. All right, you’re set on this afternoon’s flight from Dulles to Seattle. Drop by the ticket counter when you get here. Anything else I may assist you with today?

    That’s it. She forced a smile to make her voice sound grateful instead of numb.

    Thank you. You too, ma’am. The line clicked and disconnected, leaving Alex alone.

    She sighed, and her face relaxed into a neutral mask. Alex dressed and packed her suitcase on autopilot. She completed her routine and ended with a mug of coffee in hand.

    Get it together, McIntyre. Jonny’s gonna need you, girl. She shook her head.

    Alex returned to her bedroom and locked the bedroom door before she opened the top center drawer of her dresser. Her fingers curled under the lip of the oak top and pressed a button that initiated a pair of metallic clicks. The metallic clicks of the locking pins signaled her to pull the dresser away from its resting place and reveal the safe hidden within the wall.

    The blend of old-fashioned tumblers with new-age biometrics needed both a thumbprint and a retinal scan to swing the door open. Alex crouched in the space between the wall and dresser, pushed aside the trio of passports, and pulled out a black leather pocket folio, a matte-black handgun, and belt clip holster, leaving the cash inside before she closed the safe and slid the dresser back into place.

    She put the folio and the handgun into her purse, then slipped the strap over her shoulder and grabbed her suitcase. Alex looked at the bedroom and grabbed her phone from the bed before she left for brunch and the airport.

    #

    The call came at 21:33. The General looked at the cell phone vibrating on his desk, moving across the smooth, vacant surface. Penn took his time lowering the nursed glass of Scotch and answered the phone. Is it done?

    Yes, sir, came the reply from the other end of the line. The target has been neutralized.

    Move Bravo Team into position to contain the site. Charlie team, extract the target. I will not see this on the evening news.

    Affirmative, sir, the voice answered before it faded and with orders barked off into the distance. Team dark for forty-eight hours before returning to base.

    No mistakes. Penn ended the call and tossed the phone back on the desk with a heavy thunk.

    CHAPTER THREE

    Coastal Waters

    Gabriela held one hand in front of her, cold steel at her back. Listen, I don’t know you. What do you mean we’re going to Canada? Where are we?

    On a ship. We’re going to Canada because we’re both in danger. My partner and I came to see you, to get you somewhere safe. They killed her. Jonathan focused on remaining calm. The small room held two cots and a wooden crate, which doubled as a table, and one round window looked to the sun and water.

    Gabriela brought both of her hands to her head and ran her fingers through her hair, and then paced. She’s dead. Oh God. That woman’s dead. ... The last thing I remember is looking over and seeing her, and you, and it’s fuzzy. Me? Why me?

    Jonathan closed his eyes and leaned back against the hull. From his position on the cot, it might have been somewhat comfortable under different circumstances. Because of what you are, what you can do. We, I ... I’m like you. Someone collecting people like us. I’m here to make sure you stay safe.

    Gabriela gave a short, fake laugh and walked back to the cot and looked at him. Me? I’m a girl from San Fran. I don’t know what you hea—

    He opened his eyes and looked at her with a cold stare before he stood. Look, Gabriela, take your innocent I’m nothing special act and shove it up your ass. Gabriela Sofia DeLuna, born 5 July ‘95. Mother, Donna. Father, Santo. For the past two years, you altered grades for your classmates and turned a nice profit. You’re not just good with a computer, you’re a technical wizard. Literally a wizard. You can do things with tech that no one else can. Now, don’t sit there and fucking disrespect my dead partner by lying to me.

    Gabriela slinked back against the wall. Fine, fine.

    Jonathan sighed as he sat on his cot and put his head in his hands, elbows on knees. Thank you. There’s a group of people, some of them like us. They want to help. They’ve got this town or village thing in Montana, and the safest way there is across the Canadian border. So, we go to Canada, Montana ... we figure out how to build you a life somewhere safe.

    Gabriela scooted forward and swung her hand back in the direction from which they’d traveled. But, I had a life. I was going to school. I was getting my degree. I was making money. What about my family?

    Jonathan looked at her. Can you tell me, being honest with yourself, that you would be alive right now if I hadn’t pulled you out of there? Your family will be fine.

    Gabriela shook her head. How do you know they were there to kill me and not you?

    Jonathan shrugged. They were there to kill you or take you. Both are like death in their own way. One, the body, and the other, the soul. If you want me to, I can take you back. I mean, if you want to be a lab rat or a corpse.

    Gabriela gave another shake of her head. I need my laptop, my phone ... civilization.

    He stood. Civilization can wait, kid. Survival is more important right now, and if us surviving means I’m not likable, I’m willing to accept that. These people in Montana can get you a new identity. I’ll give you some cash, and you can set yourself up somewhere with enough tech to make you happy if that’s what you want.

    Yeah, Santa Monica. The beach houses there are amazing, Gabriela said.

    France. Nice, maybe. The States are too big a risk right now. Maybe in a few years, he said.

    Gabriela watched him walk aimlessly. Lay down, or something.

    He shook his head. I’ll lay down when you’re safe.

    Gabriela gave him a narrowed look. Yeah, about that. I’m in a steel box on the water. You kidnapped me and put me on this boat, and it’s safe to say, I can’t go anywhere until it stops.

    Jonathan stopped walking and looked at her. I didn’t kidnap you. I mean, yeah ... technically. But it’s not like I did it for bad reasons.

    She smirked at him and didn’t answer for a minute. Right, if that’s what you need to tell yourself.

    Christina. In case you wanted to know the name of the person who died for you. Jonathan scowled and slammed the door behind him when he left their room.

    Gabriela stared at the closed door after he’d gone. She pulled her legs under her body and waited alone in the room. The first hour crawled by, and Gabriela stared at various rivets on the paneled wall. When the door opened with a resonating creek that echoed off the walls, she jolted awake. Her entire body shivered, and her eyes twitched as the grinding metal on metal sound vibrated up her spine to the base of her skull.

    Piece of shit. Come on, you stupid— Jonathan muttered and gritted his teeth.

    Gabriela held out her hands while she rose to a seated position. Whoa, Mister. Respect the tech, even ancient tech.

    I’m gonna throw this thing in the freaking ocean. He glared at the small round window.

    Gabriela rolled her eyes, flipped her hands, and curled her fingers toward herself a few times. Give it here.

    From the window, he looked back at her, and then tossed the cell in her direction. Fine. Stupid thing’s broke or something, anyway.

    She chuckled and caught the phone. You forget already? she asked.

    Gabriela looked at the phone, checked the battery, and tried to turn it on. She flipped the case open, laid her hand on the keypad, closed her eyes, and sensed the problem. From the light contact with the phone, her mind was able to enter into the tiny, electronic world contained within the case. Ah, broken circuit on the board. We can just jump over that little hurdle. One number on the contact list? Who’s Zak?

    Jonathan mumbled and shook his head. Fucking gadget wizard. Zak’s an old friend that saved our butts back in LA by getting us on this boat and not killed, arrested, or kidnapped by overeager lab techs.

    Gabriela’s eyes moved under closed lids. She turned the phone in her hand but kept contact with the case. Come closer. You talk, I’ll dial.

    Jonathan mumbled under his breath and sat next to her on the cot.

    Her smile faded. Mister, you sound ungrateful.

    Look, I’m—

    Jesus. Fucking. Christ. Jon—

    Jonathan said, Z. Watch your fucking mouth.

    A pause followed, then came, Go, ... fuck. Sorry. What happened, Jonathan? I saw the news, or the censored version, and got some eyewitness reports about a blonde shot dead. Was it her?

    Jonathan swallowed and nodded a few times in silence, and then stood and paced. Yeah. Yeah, Z. She’s gone. Single shot. Heard it before it hit, but I wasn’t fast enough. Dead before she hit the ground.

    Another sigh and a pause came. Shit, Jonathan. What do you need? Name it; I’ll make it happen. Alex is already on her way out to visit her friends, but I can still manage a few things without her.

    He stopped and looked at the phone and stared for a long moment. I need papers at the dock for Gabriela; new ID good enough to get through any customs. We can worry about permanents later. Z?

    Yeah, I’m here.

    I want you to get me a flag before I leave Vancouver tomorrow morning. Understand?

    A longer pause. The voice sounded not quite so sure of itself. Yeah. Yeah. I understand.

    Jonathan walked back toward the phone. Thanks, Z. When the shit settles, I’ll come see you. Will send word when we’re safe and sound.

    Take care of yourself. You owe me those drinks Blondie promised.

    Jonathan sighed, sat down on his cot, and put his head in his hands. His fingers curled and pressed into his scalp while he stared at the floor. Thank you, Gabriela.

    She opened her eyes. Gabby. My parents call me Gabriela when they’re mad at me. So, why did you come out to get me? I mean, there has to be a bunch of others more important than me.

    Jonathan lifted his head and focused his eyes on her. We knew you were the next target for Penn and neither of us wanted anyone else to get hurt by him like Christina was.

    Penn?

    He nodded. He used to be our commanding officer. General Jason Penn.

    She’d been through a lot because of him, huh?

    Jonathan frowned. Years of medical experimentation and blackmailed into doing things normal people should never have to do.

    Gabriela nodded and looked out the window. I’m sorry I was a smartass to you. My mouth can run away from me sometimes.

    He laughed. Kid, I can handle being shot, stabbed, and blown up. I can handle your mouth. I did kidnap you, right?

    I mean, yeah, technically. But it’s not like you did it for bad reasons, she said with a slight smile.

    Yeah. Think about where you want to live. You can stay in Montana, or go anywhere in the world, as long as it’s not Southern California, he said with a smirk.

    Do they have Wi-Fi there? she asked.

    No.

    CHAPTER FOUR

    Montana

    While the exodus from Los Angeles had been frantic and hurried, the trek from Vancouver to the Waterton proved as peaceful as a long nap. And as uneventful, too. The hike along the lakeshore, through the forest, and over ridges and down valleys became another story. Not because of the hike itself, but because of the incessant complaints from the city girl.

    First, the shoes, the clothes, bugs, birds, water, trees, rocks, dirt, clean air, lack of technology, and dirt. At one point, and for a moment, Jonathan toyed with the idea of sprinting away and leaving her to fend for herself.

    It came as a huge relief for both of them, for different reasons, to see the opening to the valley.

    We’re almost there. Maybe another three or four miles. You can crash in my cabin until we figure out what’s going on, he said.

    A cabin? Are you kidding me? Like, in the woods cabin? Please, tell me you’re joking. Gabriela stooped to try and catch her breath.

    Yeah, a cabin. In the woods, and shit. He laughed.

    Fine, fine. But, we better get there soon because I’m not peeing in the woods again, she said.

    Jonathan pointed ahead of them. Four miles that way. The faster you walk, the faster we get there.

    Gabriela hurried to keep up with him. The rest of the walk didn’t take long. Neither Jonathan nor Gabriela spoke until they crossed the valley’s length to the structure near the lake. The closer they got, the more somber Jonathan grew and the more determined and focused he seemed.

    This it? This the one? Gabriela nodded to the building.

    Yeah. Jonathan shadowed her to the door, in no particular hurry.

    She repeated the same phrase, I gotta pee ... I gotta pee ..., over and over again while she pulled the door open and dashed inside. In the main room, she looked right, left, and right again, and then hurried to the left and found the bathroom, slamming the door before locking it.

    Jonathan walked through the door and swung it shut. Then he turned to the left and raised a hand, but instead of a keypad, the wall showed a blank space. We’re not in Kansas anymore, Cross. Chase appeared to be gone, but Jonathan checked the master suite regardless. It came up empty. He felt relieved to find none of Chase’s things in the room, which made him feel ashamed.

    Pull it together, he muttered, closing the door to the suite.

    Next, he crossed the common room to the other two bedrooms; his and hers. He went to his first and collected his things, and then went into hers, put his stuff on the bed, and looked around. Her stuff, her smell, but it wasn’t until his eyes fell on the rings on the bedside table that his breath caught in his chest, and he swallowed hard. Oh, a sound and a word that dripped with a dozen different emotions.

    Jonathan walked around the bed and plucked the rings between two fingers as if they were made of glass. He let out his held breath with a long shudder before leaving the room.

    Going out. Make yourself at home, he spoke in a loud, monotone voice with his eyes glued to the rings cradled in his hands as he made his escape from the cabin.

    #

    Gabriela walked out of the bathroom, holding the hand towel and looked at the big,

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1