BEVERLY BARTON.

CHECK MATE.

Family Secrets Series.

To my good friend, Linda Winstead Jones, who helped me maintain some semblance of sanity on a day-to-day basis while I was writing this book.

Prologue.

"'There was a crooked man, who walked a crooked mile...'" As the phrase played over and over in Gideon Faulkner's mind, shattering the final block on his memory of childhood, Jake Ingram took advantage of the situation.

I love you, Bro, Jake thought as he socked Gideon, landing a perfect hit and sending his brother careening to the ground. Immediately Jake headed down the path toward the secret entrance to the underground compound high in the Oregon mountains. He would do what Gideon had planned to do-retrieve the computer disk containing evidence against the Coalition and destroy all the work Gideon had started on the next Coalition crime. Equally important was gaining access to another disk that would simultaneously cut off the Coalition accounts.

Jake knew one thing for certain-he had to get inside the compound before his brother regained consciousness and came after him. Jake had weighed the odds, then done what was necessary. He'd known the risks involved. But what else could he have done? No way in h.e.l.l was he going to allow his brother to put his life on the line, not after all Gideon had been through since childhood as the p.a.w.n of manipulative, self-serving monsters. Especially not now that Gideon had found someone to love, Brooke Carter. Gideon deserved a real life, with a woman who loved him, a woman willing to accept him for who and what he was.

Becoming the big brother to five adult siblings had come as a surprise to Jake, and to those sisters and brothers he'd been brainwashed to forget ever existed. But his newfound family meant everything to him and he intended to do whatever was necessary to protect them. And the one way to keep all those he loved safe was to bring down the Coalition and to make sure the new Code Proteus experiments were confiscated. Jake and his siblings knew better than anyone the devastating results of the original experiments. Their own biological father, a brilliant scientist, had spearheaded the original Code Proteus project of genetic engineering. Henry Bloomfield had imagined designing babies with the physical abilities of superheroes, the intellect of geniuses, the creative and leadership abilities of the world's greatest philosophers and political leaders.

Six children had been born-Henry's own biological offspring-in two different births, three children each. Jake had been the firstborn of the first set of triplets, but at age twelve, all memory of his parents and his birthright had been wiped from his mind. Then less than a year ago, he had learned the truth about his past when his biological mother, Violet, had finally found him and made contact. After that, Jake had begun an extensive search for his siblings and located them, one by one. But before they had the chance to get to know their mother again, she'd been murdered by the people who had used Gideon for their evil purposes.

Although Jake had been raised with a brother- the son of the wonderful family that had adopted him when he was twelve-he felt a deep, inexplicable connection to his biological siblings, who shared with him not only the same parents, but were, as he was, the products of genetically engineered human embryos being implanted into a surrogate female. He was one of the genetically enhanced superkids, one of the Extraordinary Five.

Following the directions Gideon had shared with him about where the secret entrance to the underground compound was located, Jake made his way through the dense forest. The January wind seeped through his heavy winter coat and fleece-lined leather gloves, as his boots crunched over snow-covered, rotting vegetation. He kept the flashlight beam pointing downward, illuminating the path before him without giving away his location. Towering age-old trees, with barren limbs creaking in the frigid wind, surrounded him, like dark giants watching his every move. With dawn fast approaching, he didn't have long to make it to the destination and get inside the compound without alerting the guards to his presence.

He was close. So close. Hurry. Walk faster. Run. A voice inside his head shouted instructions. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, six black-clad figures appeared, boxing him in, blocking his path. d.a.m.n! He couldn't run; there was no escape. And it was highly unlikely that he could overpower six men, all probably military trained. So, what are you going to do? Jake asked himself. He'd never been one to give up, no matter what the odds against him. The way he saw it, there was only one thing to do-put up the fight of his life. And thank G.o.d he was the one the Coalition had captured and not Gideon.

One.

Eemerging from a groggy, drug-induced fog, Jake Ingram fought to clear his mind. Where was he? What had happened? What was going on? He tried to open his eyes, but found the effort too exhausting. d.a.m.n it, man, try again. What the h.e.l.l's the matter with you?

Could be he was asleep and having a nightmare. Yeah, maybe that was it. Try to wake up, he told himself. He did his best to move, to shake his head, lift his arm-do anything that might bring him around-but to no avail.

"I think our guest is coming to," someone said, but Jake didn't recognize the voice.

"Yeah, well, it's about time," a deeper, grittier voice responded.

"Should I give him another shot?"

"Nah, we'll be there soon and it'll be easier for us to get him inside the cabin if he's able to walk. I don't want to have to carry him. He's a d.a.m.n big man."

"Yeah, you got that right. And strong as an ox. Brinker told me he fought like a tiger when they surrounded him. The guy's got grit to take on six men."

"You'd better check his cuffs. He may be a bit fuzzy when he gets good and awake, but he could still try to give us some trouble."

Jake felt someone's hands on him-quick, rough hands that slid behind his back to grip his wrists, then reached down and grasped each ankle in turn. What was the guy doing? Checking your cuffs, Jake reminded himself of what he'd heard the two men discussing. Cuffs? Did they have him handcuffed?

"He's secure, but he'll have a h.e.l.l of a time walking with those leg irons on."

"I'm not setting him loose until the doc takes a look at him and starts doing her hoodoo thing," the deep voice said. "Our orders are to keep him confined for her. We can rough him up, but we aren't supposed to kill him. Unless, of course, he gives us a good reason to."

Loud, robust laughter echoed inside Jake's head. He wanted to tell the men to stop laughing, stop talking about him as if he weren't there, but he couldn't manage to get his mouth open wide enough to speak.

Who were these men? Where were they taking him? Why did they have his wrists and ankles cuffed? What's the last thing you remember? Jake asked himself.

He'd been with Gideon, trying to talk him out of entering the underground compound in Oregon to retrieve the computer disk where he'd stored information that could destroy the Coalition. But he hadn't been able to talk sense to his brother, so he'd... G.o.d, he'd coldc.o.c.ked him! Then he'd hurried along the path toward the compound's secret entrance. He had been close-so close.

Jake raked his tongue around inside his mouth, then licked his lips. The metallic taste of blood- dried blood- registered in his mind. He'd been hit in the face, punched in the mouth. A nagging ache in his ribs reminded him that he'd put up a good fight, but he'd lost. Now he remembered. Six black-clad goons had surrounded him. He'd been captured before entering the compound. Undoubtedly they'd drugged him for transport. But where was he?

As the feeling returned to his body and his mind registered the things his five senses picked up, he realized he was moving, that he was inside a vehicle of some sort. His eyelids quivered. That's it, he told himself. Open your eyes and take a good look. Whatever is happening, you'll have to find a logical way to deal with it. He knew his life depended on how well he handled the situation. His heavy eyelids opened lazily. It took a good minute or two for his eyesight to adjust to the shadowy interior of the SUV. Looking straight ahead, he saw the back of two heads-one with scraggy brown hair that touched the collar of his blue plaid coat and one with military-short blond hair. As best Jake could make out, the broad-shouldered blonde, who wore a tan suede jacket, was driving what appeared to be a fairly new four-wheel drive. Jake pegged him to be the gruff-spoken one of the two. The second guy, who had a smaller build and fidgeted nervously, was fumbling with the radio, scanning for a station.

"Might as well forget it," the driver said. "You're not getting anything but static."

s.h.a.ggy-hair grumbled. "This a.s.signment is the pits. You know, Burgess, being holed up in a cabin in the frozen hills of Arizona guarding a genius freak isn't my idea of a good time. I'll go bonkers after a few days. You've heard of cabin fever, haven't you? Well, I got it and we aren't even at the cabin, yet."

"Quit bellyaching," Burgess said. "Les, you're as whiny as an old woman. We're doing what we've been told to do, what we're getting paid to do. Besides, it might not take the doc that long to get inside pretty boy's head."

Les chuckled. "He's not all that pretty with his busted lip and bruised face." When Les glanced into the back seat, Jake closed his eyes. "So this guy is one of those superhumans, huh? He looks pretty ordinary to me."

"Well, don't let his looks fool you. I was told the guy's a financial whiz, a real mathematical genius. Seems he's the big dog of the litter. And the Coalition wants him working on their side. That's why the doc is waiting on us. It's her job to reactivate him."

"Reactivate him?"

Les finally found a radio station, although the reception wasn't great. A Sixties rock hit blasted from the radio and reverberated inside the SUV.

"Turn that d.a.m.n thing down." Burgess gave his partner a sharp glance, which prompted him to lower the volume. "It seems those superkids, the Extraordinary Five, were put through some sort of hypnotic conditioning when they were children so that they could be controlled. The boss wants this guy reconditioned."

"What do you know about Doc? I don't even know her name. Is she a real doc or just a shrink?"

"She's a psychiatrist. Her name's Dr. Brooks. We're suppose to follow her orders. I was told that she'd be in charge."

"I don't like taking orders from a woman."

While Les and Burgess went back and forth on the advantages versus the disadvantages of having a female boss, Jake took the opportunity to look out the windows and see if he could pick up any visual details that might help him. All he knew-from what Les had said-was that they were in Arizona. The more he knew about his location, about the surrounding territory, the better prepared he'd be when he made his escape. And he would escape. Somehow. Someway.

Jake wondered if it was later the same day-the same day he'd been ambushed. If so, then he would have been flown from Oregon to Arizona. But if it was the following day, while it was possible that Les and Burgess had driven the entire distance overnight, Jake would lay odds that he'd been flown to some private airstrip, then picked up by these two thugs.

When he surveyed the area outside the SUV, what he saw didn't surprise him, but it did frustrate him. They were headed up a mountainside, driving through rough terrain, although the road appeared to be paved. Golden rabbitbrush and a fresh layer of snow covered the ground, and in the distance he saw snow-coated, barren rock formations. His captors kept talking about a cabin-no doubt some isolated retreat that belonged to the Coalition-and about a woman doctor-a psychiatrist they'd called Dr. Brooks.

The Coalition wanted to reactivate his programing, done when he'd been a boy by Oliver Grimble and Agnes Payne, two of his father's colleagues, who had secretly implanted psychological messages-phrase triggers-in his young mind to make him easier to control. But he hadn't been the only one whose mind had been tampered with by the gruesome couple. Each one of the Extraordinary Five had suffered the same fate.

Suddenly the vehicle lurched and bounced, tossing them about despite the restraint of their seat belts. Jake realized they had left the paved road and were traveling over a rocky, rutted trail leading higher into the mountains. Burgess dropped into four-wheel drive and they continued at a snail's pace. Snow-laden junipers, pines and chaparral lined the narrow roadway, and although the vehicle's heater seemed to be working just fine, Jake felt a sudden chill and realized the temperature was dropping quickly as the sun was setting. The rugged dirt road wound about in a series of steep switchbacks up the mountainside, taking them higher and higher, deeper and deeper into the G.o.dforsaken wilderness.

If he tried to get away-and he intended to-he would face several major obstacles. First and foremost, his hands and feet were shackled. But they wouldn't keep him bound once the good doctor started her treatments. The first problem would be solved then. The second handicap was his location. He didn't know the area, and traveling on foot in these dangerous hills in a January winter would be deadly. He'd just have to find a way to secure a vehicle-either this SUV or the doctor's car. Second problem solved. The third obstacle would be escaping from Les and Burgess. Both men were probably well-armed, so it would take some real finagling to get past them. He'd just have to find a way to disarm them and render them harmless. A problem yet to be solved.

And what about Dr. Brooks? Jake asked himself. h.e.l.l, she was only a woman. Managing her should be the easiest part of the great escape.

As his two captors continued conversing, Jake picked up snippets of their conversation, most totally irrelevant to his current situation. One rock song after another added background music to the jabbering, and except for an occasional glimpse into the back seat, neither man paid much attention to Jake. He studied the landscape, trying to find some sort of marker that might let him know he was on the right path when he made the return trip alone after his escape, but everything was beginning to look the same. Then suddenly he noticed a stream bed. Cold, white water and frozen slush cascaded down a series of large brown boulders, creating a miniature waterfall. This was definitely something worth remembering.

Creeping along the winding road, they soon became embraced by thick wooded areas on either side, shutting them off from everything except the dying embers of sunlight as twilight approached. Jake tested his handcuffs and leg irons. Totally secure. No room to maneuver. And even though he was thinking straight and his five senses were working properly, he wasn't sure how much physical strength he had left, after having tried to fight off six attackers and being drugged for G.o.d only knew how many hours.

While he was considering his options and surmising that at present he had only one-cooperation-a midsize log house appeared in the distance. The sunset melted into the treetops at the back of the cabin, so Jake knew the place faced east. The structure was modern, practically brand-new from the looks of it. Had the Coalition moved their headquarters? Jake wondered. Was this part of a new compound?

"Well, at least the place isn't a dump," Les said. "How many bedrooms? If there's not enough to go around, I'd be happy to share with Doc. Unless she turns out to be a real hag."

Burgess chuckled. "I hear she's not bad to look at. But you keep your hands off her or you'll be in big trouble. And I'm told she carries a gun. If you get too friendly, she just might shoot you."

"What if she won't keep her hands off me?"

"You wish."

When Burgess drove up to the two-car attached garage, the door opened immediately, which to Jake meant that someone-the lady doctor?-had been waiting and watching. Once the SUV was encased inside the garage, beside a late model Chevy TrailBlazer, the door closed, sealing them inside. Snapping their seat belts loose, Burgess and Les jumped out of the vehicle, then Burgess rounded the hood and came around to Jake's side. Les opened the door and looked Jake over from head to toe. Jake feigned grogginess, letting his eyelids open and close languidly.

Les reached out and shook him. "Wake up, In-gram. We're not going to carry you."

Jake opened his eyes and stared into Les's leathery tan face. He figured this guy was close to forty. "Where am I?"

Jake asked, making his voice sound weak.

"You're where n.o.body can find you," Les replied. "Now come on and get out." He grabbed Jake's arm and urged him to move.

Jake turned and slid off the seat, letting his feet hit the concrete garage floor. With his legs bound, he found it difficult to balance his body's weight properly and teetered back and forth precariously. Burgess clamped his meaty hand down on Jake's shoulder.

"Get behind him," Burgess told Les, then said to Jake, "You follow me. Take your time or you'll fall flat on your face and I'm not going to pick you up. Got it?"

Jake nodded, then as soon as Les took up his rearguard position, Burgess headed toward the closed door that led into the house. With no choice but to move slowly, Jake hobbled behind Burgess. Once or twice, Les punched him in the back, apparently aggravated the simple task was taking so long.

Burgess grasped the doork.n.o.b and the door swung open. Jake followed the young blond ruffian inside, directly into a large living room and dining room combination. The furniture, though inexpensive, appeared to be as new as the cabin.

"So where is she?" Les asked.

Jake was wondering the same thing. If there was a Coalition psychiatrist waiting to start experimenting on his mind, then where the h.e.l.l was she?

"Dr. Brooks?" Burgess called out in his deep, gravelly voice. "Hey, it's Burgess and Lester. We've got Jake Ingram with us."

Footsteps tapped on the wooden stairs that led to the upper floor. Within minutes, a pair of long, slender legs encased in denim jeans appeared. All three men stared upward to get a good look at the doctor. As unexpected as waking to find that he'd been drugged and was being held captive, Jake's reaction to the woman was even more unexpected. And completely unantic.i.p.ated. Jake Ingram felt as if he'd been poleaxed, a condition completely unknown to him until this very minute.

Tall-really tall-probably somewhere around five-ten, the lady had the figure of a runway model, one who worked out regularly. Thin, athletic, every inch toned to perfection. Legs that went on forever, slim hips and enough bosom to fill out her bulky turtleneck sweater nicely. But it wasn't her figure alone that staggered Jake. There was something about the whole package that aroused him. d.a.m.n, was he crazy? This b.i.t.c.h worked for the Coalition. She was the enemy. Yeah, sure. His brain knew it, but tell that to his body.

Jake couldn't take his eyes off her as she entered the living room. Her long, wavy, jet-black hair had been confined in a loose ponytail and pulled away from her broad face. As his gaze moved down her body again, he noticed the hip holster she wore. The lady was armed-and definitely dangerous.

"There's no need to shout," she said, her voice commanding, yet utterly feminine. "You're...?" She looked directly at the burly blond.

"Burgess, ma'am."

She glanced at the smaller man. "And by process of elimination, you must be Lester." Her gaze moved on to Jake. She did a quick double take, as if seeing him had somehow shocked her. Jake couldn't help wondering if he affected her the way she did him. "And you must be Jake Ingram." She studied his cuffed hands and manacled ankles.

As her azure-blue eyes inspected him thoroughly, her gaze softened ever so slightly, as if she felt a modic.u.m of compa.s.sion. When her gaze lifted and met Jake's, he almost grinned, but he wasn't sure whether the humor came from realizing this sultry brunette was sizing him up or from the lunacy of the whole idea that they'd been instantly attracted to each other. Suddenly she frowned and glanced away. Jake noted that her nose was long and straight, her lips wide and full. She wore only a minimum of makeup and a clear gloss on her naturally rosy lips.

Les socked Jake in the side. "When the doc asks you a question, answer her."

Jake winced. d.a.m.n but his ribs were sore. "Yes, I'm Jake Ingram. And that's all the information I'll offer you."

"Smart mouth!" Les punched him in the ribs again.

Jake hunched his shoulders and snarled as he glowered at Les.

"That's quite enough," Dr. Brooks said. "Please, undo his leg irons and give me the key to his handcuffs." She held out her open palm.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Burgess said. "This guy could easily overpower you. Take a good look at him. Doc. He's a pretty big fellow."

"I've downed bigger men," she replied, without missing a beat. "I'm thoroughly trained to handle uncooperative patients."

Burgess retrieved a key from his pants pocket, knelt down and unlocked Jake's leg irons, then he stood and tossed the doctor another set of keys. "I'd keep those handcuffs on him if I were you."

"I intend to," she said as she pocketed the keys. "At least for the time being. But I've prepared a room upstairs for our patient, and it will be easier for him to climb the steps without those." She eyed the discarded restraints.

"Why upstairs?" Burgess looked toward the back of the house where two doors stood open.

"I thought it best to confine him upstairs," Dr. Brooks explained. "Less chance of escape. And more privacy for my sessions with him. Besides, there are twin beds in the room upstairs and I plan to be with Mr. Ingram most of the time, so I'll share a room with him."

"You might want to rethink that one. Doc," Les said. "He might get fresh with you." Les chuckled, but shut up instantly when Dr. Brooks gave him a withering glare.

"I a.s.sure you, Lester, that I'm more than capable of protecting myself against unwanted attention from Mr. Ingram... or from anyone else."

"Guess she told you." Burgess grinned at Les, then asked the doctor, "You need any help getting him upstairs?"

"No, thank you. I believe I can handle things... even if he's uncooperative." She glanced meaningfully at her hip holster.

Jake resisted the urge to bend down and rub his ankles. Instead he stood tall and straight, his gaze fixed on Dr. Brooks. He realized that not only couldn't he trust this woman, but he couldn't trust his own feelings about her. The fact that he found her s.e.xually attractive could put him at a disadvantage, but only if he allowed the chemistry between them to distract him from his objective-escape.

"Mr. Ingram, please go out into the hall and up the stairs," Dr. Brooks said. "I'll be right behind you. And if you're thinking of doing something foolish, I'd advise against it."

Jake nodded, then without responding verbally, turned and headed toward the hall. With each step, he subtly studied the house. Knowledge was power. The more he knew about everything that affected him here in this isolated log cabin, the better his chances of finding an opportunity to escape. As he made his way up the wooden stairs, he felt her behind him and heard her footsteps echoing his own. When he reached the top of the stairs, he was facing the bathroom, the door ajar enough to reveal a compact area consisting of a tub/shower combination, a white freestanding sink and an economical white commode.

"Our room is to your left," she told him.

He turned and walked into the 14' x 12' room. Wooden floors and walls. Two windows, one over each of the twin beds, each covered with wooden blinds. Sliding doors that he a.s.sumed hid a large closet. A wooden desk with a chair against one wall and a large, overstaffed chair in the opposite corner. Nothing fancy by anyone's standards, but clean and orderly.