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I have to agree.” Jules frowned. “Taking a civilian into danger makes no sense.”

“Damn, Alicia. Even for you, this is a bit much,” Tersch added.

Ava said nothing, but her expression said she agreed with Tersch.

Mrs. Sharpe waited. “Are you all finished? I am in possession of information you don't have and don't yet need. Jules, I would never endanger your lives, or Olivia's, were it not absolutely necessary. And remember, I have the admiral's go-ahead on this. Do you really think he'd risk her—or you—in any way if it weren't absolutely necessary?

“I need a woman who speaks like a native, one who can tell a truth from a lie.” Olivia froze. “What?”

“Come now, Olivia. Kisho's been forthcoming. The others will be as well. They need to know what you can do.”

“That has no bearing on any of this,” Olivia said stiffly. She hated the curiosity, the suspicion. She'd seen it too many times before—the very reason she kept her abilities secret.

“Oh but it does. I didn't need just any linguist; I needed you. Just you, Olivia Lynn.” The surety of Mrs. Sharpe's words spooked Olivia into confessing the truth.

“It's no big deal.” She shrugged. “I'm an empath.”

“You read emotions?” Ava asked, curiosity but no scorn in her voice.

“I feel them. And truth feels warm. When people are near, and when I touch them, I can usually feel what they feel. If they're lying, I can tell. But I don't read thoughts or anything like that.”

Jules nodded. “I see why you wanted her here. But I still don't like the idea of bringing an untrained civilian into danger.”

Mrs. Sharpe shook her head. “I understand that, but Olivia is not as helpless as you might think. I've also been considering using her for another reason altogether, as a control.”

“Excuse me?” Olivia asked.

Kisho frowned. “This sounds all too familiar. We heard the same things at Pearson Labs.”

“You know, Alicia, that place that imprisoned us for a year? The one that performed experiments where they drugged us and turned good men rogue?” Gunnar added harshly.

“Tersch,” Jules warned.

“This isn't the same thing,” Mrs. Sharpe asserted. “The laboratory you are going to find and destroy in the jungles of Brazil has cultivated a drug derived from a special plant found only in a particular section of the rain forest. Circs are immune to its effects, on purpose, I suspect.

Normal people are put into a state of almost catatonia, unable to do anything but obey. It's information gathering at its best.”

“So you need Olivia as a control. For what purpose?”

“I need to see what it does to a psychic mind.”

“No way. Sorry, Mrs. Sharpe, but I didn't sign on to be a guinea pig.” Was the woman off her rocker?

“You don't understand, Olivia. I wouldn't inject you without a counteragent ready. We know that this drug has already been used to ferret out national secrets from a few members of the government the admiral is currently working to contain. These men not only told everything they knew; they predicted future events before dying of brain aneurysms within twenty-four hours of being dosed. But a team of scientists worked on decoding the serum. We now have a viable antidote.”

Jules scowled. “One that's been tested?”

“Yes. Those infected with the drug recovered in minutes after being inoculated with the antidote, with no lingering side effects. The problem is—” She paused and narrowed her gaze on Olivia. “I shouldn't need to repeat that what is said in this room does not go beyond these walls.” Olivia nodded. Who would believe her anyway? Truth serums had always been out there, but not ones that gave people ESP or controlled minds. Science fiction and fantasy, not a military reality.

“The problem is,” Mrs. Sharpe continued, “that a branch of the Defense Department has been working on developing psychic soldiers. We have a bad feeling this drug was invented as a direct threat to stop Admiral London's progress with his new division.”

“So that's why the admiral dumped us. He's got new toys to play with.” Gunnar speared a piece of meat and shoved it into his mouth.

Ava glared at him. “The admiral didn't dump you. He was forced to take over this other project so that what happened to you doesn't happen to them.”

“Ava.” Mrs. Sharpe shook her head. “That's not a discussion we need to have right now.

What Admiral London is doing is important, just as important as what you all are going to do.” Olivia's head was spinning. “Hold on a minute. Let's start at the beginning. Exactly who the hell are you people? And what's this about labs and psychic research?” She glanced at the three unflinching faces across from her, then turned to Mrs. Sharpe. “If you want me to help you, I need to know what you know.”

“Good luck with that,” Gunnar said under his breath.

“Have you ever heard of Project Dawn?” Mrs. Sharpe asked.

Olivia blinked in surprise. “Yes, actually. A little over a year ago, there was some huge scandal with a senator and some military bigwigs associated with Project Dawn. I remember because my division heads moved all over the place trying to plug holes in the rumor mill.

Stories about super soldiers and genetic research gone bad. More science fiction…” She trailed off, until she realized the men she stared at could easily fit the description of the Circs she'd heard so much about.

“Not fiction,” Jules admitted. “My team is the second generation of super soldiers. We're called Circs, after the Circe serum used to change our genetic code.” He shared a look with Mrs.

Sharpe. “Basically, we're stronger, faster, and more lethal than the sailors and soldiers you know.”

“And we kick jarhead ass,” Gunnar added with a toothy smile. “Tell that to Roane the next time you see him,” he said to Mrs. Sharpe.

Confused, Olivia asked, “Who's Roane?”

Mrs. Sharpe rolled her eyes at Gunnar. “He's the team leader for the original batch of Circs, a group of U.S. Marines. And a digression.

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