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stared at Adam intently. “Don’t give me an answer
now. Think about what we’re asking, and let us start some blood work, testing
and searching. But as the leader of your group, if you get on board, the rest
of your cohort will follow.”
    Silence followed. Adam didn’t trust himself to speak. His
fists clenched with the urge to tear a chunk out of the wall. “With all due
respect to the country, sir, I won’t do it. I can’t let history repeat itself.
Ask Gavin. Ask Chase. But don’t ask me. Find some other stud horse.” He turned
and slammed the door. Adam walked in silence down the hall. If he’d had running
shoes on, he’d have taken off for a good, long run around the compound. Adam
came to an abrupt halt and pounded a fist against the wall. How could they
ask this of me? Of all people? Did they forget what happened to my family?
    He strode down the hallway and headed to the pool. He padded
silently along the corridor, enjoying the cold that penetrated his overly fancy
suit. Cold felt good after the day’s scorching heat. He’d grown up with DC’s
summer humidity but never learned to enjoy it. At least now he lived in a place
with a pool. The Beltsville, Maryland compound boasted an Olympic-quality
indoor and outdoor pool for resident use. The best he had in childhood had been
an open hydrant on a dirty city corner.
    Adam looked up to see Xander, his best friend, ambling up
the corridor. Xander rarely moved faster than a controlled, steady gait, but
when he did, look out. Adam thought of him like a jaguar. Sleek, deceptively
lazy and mean as hell.
    Xander took one look at Adam’s mug. “What’s eating you?”
    “You mean besides fucking up on the job and letting a kid
get kidnapped?”
    A trace of a smile flashed on Xander’s face. “Yeah, besides
that. Everyone’s talking about it. No one can believe Mr. Perfect screwed up.”
    “Thanks. Don’t call me that.” He frowned. “They want me to
lead our cohort in signing up for the breeding program.”
    Xander winced in sympathy. “Shit, they tapped you? I’d heard
rumors.” He smirked. “You think they’ll ever ask me? I already have a tux for
the wedding.”
    The only reason Xander owned a tux was to fit in at fancy
parties on assignments. Plus rental tuxedos didn’t come with hidden pockets
designed to hold a Glock. Adam snorted. “Yeah, Shep wants to reproduce your
genes like he wants to hold a press conference on our latest mission.”
    Xander nodded, unhurt by Adam’s assessment of the truth.
“I’ve heard it’s cool though. You go crazy for the female, some kind of
pheromone thing. I wonder what that would be like to want a woman more than you
want your next mission.”
    Adam kept walking, ignoring the warning signs and flashing
lights in his brain telling him he may have made that connection with last
night’s dance partner. It may have been a connection, but it was nothing he
could or would follow up on.
    Xander slowed his gait, staring off into the distance, and
then gave his head a shake. “Or you could end up like Ryan,” he said, naming
the poor bastard whose wife had exposed the Program to the media last week. She
was currently on lockdown on campus. Rumor had it Ryan had her chained to their
bed in retaliation for her betrayal.
    “Come on. I can think of one cure for all ailments. Skip the
pool, let’s hit the gym. Now.” He eyed Adam’s dark suit. “Go get padded up. I
want to work on my takedowns.”
    He fell into step alongside Xander, grateful his best friend
knew him well. A little martial arts challenge was exactly what he needed now.
Xander was one of the few soldiers who could pin him and keep him down. Each
guy had a specialty—knives, sharpshooting, you name it. Adam prided himself on
being a true renaissance man. He excelled in all forms of combat, but he
favored close-contact hand-to-hand. The pair walked along the corridor and
exited the main office in companionable silence. They passed by the pool