The beating of the helicopter’s rotors could be heard through Summer’s ear-protecting headphones, making her wonder how loud they would be without them. It was dark outside, though she’d long since lost all sense of time. It was night and Luke was gone, along with Jacques and her hopes for Alloy 531. Everything she’d ever wanted, everything she’d ever worked for.

Gone.

Mac sat across from her in the chopper, Razorback, Sloan, and three guys she didn’t know rounding out the crew as they made their way back to New York City. She’d fought Mac for almost an hour, insisting they stay in Boston until the brancium was found, but he couldn’t tell the team where to look, and in the end she couldn’t blame him for that, either.

So Luke and the others had taken the vans back while the rest of them flew in the chopper. It was a surreal experience to cap off what had been some of the most awful days of her life. She leaned her head back against the headrest. Mac had stopped talking to her, thank God, after initially seeming to think she required conversation. She wanted only to sit in peace and lick her wounds in the darkness.

They landed on top of the building and she climbed out, giving Sloan her hand.

What would happen now that she was home? She didn’t feel safe going back to her apartment, yet she felt downright silly asking these men for help. Walsh was in custody, and at some point she would have to take responsibility for her own life. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed her father, hesitating only a moment when she remembered the time.

He would be panicked to hear from her this late. Losing a child did that to you. But he didn’t answer and her update was too complex to leave on a voice mail message, so she hung up, blindly following the men into the HERO Force office.

She was grateful Luke wouldn’t be here yet, the drive taking considerably longer than the helicopter flight, and she promised herself she would be gone long before he arrived.

“Come in my office,” said Mac. “We have a few things to figure out before we call it a night. Razorback, Sloan, you too.” She dutifully followed the men to a ridiculously cold room, watching as Mac closed the window without comment, and took a seat at a small, round table.

“Nice job at AGL, Summer. I wasn’t sure the sales rep thing would work.”

“We all use the same vendors.”

Mac nodded. “Well, you did good.”

She crossed her arms. “What happens now? We know they have the brancium, and I still need to get it back.”

“Wiseman said it couldn’t be there, that the equipment would be too big.”

“That’s right.” An image of the oscillating friction accelerator appeared in her mind. It had been made by TJ Selling Industries and built right on the testing floor.

We all use the same vendors.

She’d seen a binder from TJ Selling Industries in the IT director’s office. “They’d have to make the machine,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry?” said Mac.

“They would have to have their own equipment manufactured if they intended to use the brancium, and we all use the same vendors. There’s only one company on the entire East Coast capable of making the machinery we used for testing Alloy 531. TJ Selling Industries. AGL must have used them, too. But the machine is so big they have to assemble it onsite.”

“And this TJ Selling Industries is the only place that could have done it,” said Razorback.

“Exactly. If we contact them with the specifications the testing machine for Alloy 531 requires, they should be able to tell us where they built the machinery.”

“How can we be sure it’s still there?” asked Mac.

“It weighs more than a hundred tons. It’s manufactured off-site but put together onsite. It can’t be moved.”

Mac smiled from one side of his mouth. “So, if we find out from this TJ company where they built the machine…”

“Then it’s still there,” said Summer, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “Along with the brancium. What time is it?”

“Almost six.”

“TJ Selling opens at nine. That gives us three hours to kill.”

“If you don’t mind me saying so, Miss Daniels, I think you should use that time to get some sleep. There’s a bunk room at the end of the hall.”

She wanted to say no, to tell him she was elated and there was no way in hell she was going to sleep, but even as she thought the words, she knew they were not true. Yes, she was excited, but she was also very tired, the idea of even someone else’s pillow sounding better than she could have imagined.

She nodded. “That’s probably a good idea.”

Her cell phone rang and relief swept through her when she saw her father’s name on the caller ID. “Hang on. I’ve got to grab this.” She answered it. “Hi, Daddy.”

“This isn’t your father, but if you want to see him alive again you’d better listen carefully. He seems to be having a hard time breathing.”

The back of her neck flooded with a prickly heat as she worked to make sense of the impossible, her wide eyes going to Mac’s. “What have you done to him?” she demanded, her voice completely unlike her own, a desperate sort of roar. Mac moved next to her, loosening her grip on the phone so he could listen, too.

“Nothing yet, and if you want to keep it that way, you need to tell me what’s in Alloy 531.”

“He needs his medication.”

The man chuckled. “Then you’d better tell me quickly, or else the old man’s going to die. Now start talking.”