CHAPTER NINE

FIFTY FOUR STEPS and one stumble later, we emerged back into my office, thighs and lungs burning, shins bleeding.

“What’s wrong?” Catching her breath, Evie rested her hands on her knees.

“Sorry, honey. It’s the lab.” I snatched my tablet, punching up today’s scramble sequence. “I’ve gotta go.” I lifted her chin until she looked me in the eyes. “Head straight home. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

She was all adult again, unfair levels of sorrow for a teenager.

“Don’t worry.” I meant the words even though I knew they wouldn’t help. After a final squeeze, I burst into the hall, yelling over my shoulder as I went. “Take the book with you!”

Scrambler in place, I tapped my ARGs the same moment I slammed into the exterior door with my shoulder. The afternoon glare blinded me. “Dial Marisol Cruz, all numbers.”

Less than two heartbeats later, “Cruz. It’s not a drill. It’s not cyber. We’ve got feet on the ground. Mierda—” a loud concussive shockwave overrode the signal before it could rupture my eardrums from the inside out. Not before it could scare the hell out of me.

I continued to pump my legs, gaining speed, and less than fifty yards from the front doors of the unassuming above-ground lobby directly above the lab. Green flashed in the corner of my lens view, indicating a good connection. That meant sound levels were beyond acceptable. I cursed myself for the lapse.

“Volume negative 50%!” Instantly a crackling signal returned.

“—no way to pursue. No backup in the vicinity. Where the hell are you! Buckner, respond!”

“I’m here, sorry, I lost—”

“Where is here?! Do not access main—” an explosion briefly cut the signal again, “—booby-trapped. I repeat—”

Less than a yard from the front doors, I made the connection—too late. Sometimes momentum is a bitch. Red LEDs winked at me through the glass door, one at each corner. With nothing else to do, I flung my tablet at the center of the largest pane and shielded my face with my hands.

The next few moments felt like tumbling in a dryer full of sandpaper and cooking in a microwave at the same time. Eventually I skidded to a stop against the unmanned receptionist’s desk.

“Buckner! Buckner! Come in! Do not access main entrance!”

Marisol’s voice came as both a pleasant reminder I was still alive and a warning of the larger trouble. I whisked my eyes open, scraping the lids across the crusted surface of my pupils. “Too late,” I croaked out the words. “I’m in the lobby.” Through the yellow haze tinting my field of vision I made out the smoking remains of my tablet.

“But how? The—”

“I think my tablet took the brunt. I don’t know, some kind of highly focused EM field.”

“Can the science talk, and get your ass down here. That is if you think you can cover me.”

Marisol always knew which buttons to hit. “Is the elevator secure?” I brushed shards of glass from my hair while testing my legs.

“Hold.”

Slowly my vision returned to normal. The devices stuck to each corner of the door had melted each other just as they had my tablet. No way I’d get much tech out of the remains. I snorted.

This wasn’t playground tech. For the second time that day, realities forced me to rethink my assumptions about the Truth in History Society. I needed to get to my lab. Now. I would have already been inside if not distracted by the secret passageway.

I cursed under my breath. “Marisol?” I tried the connection again, but the lens view of my glasses had gone dark, apparently fritzed by the pulse. I needed to move of my own, snuff out the feeling of being a marionette. But if Marisol Cruz tells you to hold, you hold. Speaking of, where the hell was she? A hissing sound indicated the elevator car had arrived at my level. I spun toward the doors as they slid open.

“Secure.” Marisol poked her head past the opened doors for a view of the entire lobby before indicating I should join her. A subtle smirk played at the corner of her mouth.

“Situation?” She loved it when I cut to the chase.

“At least four hostiles.” She removed her finger from the control panel. The doors slid shut behind me. “A dozen friendlies.”

“You mean my people—scientists, technicians.” I corrected her.

“She continued unfazed. “Several under immediate threat. No casualties that I know of.” Finally she softened. “Sorry, Buck.” We’d already descended half-way to the single-level underground lab when she put her hand on my shoulder. “Truth is, I don’t know much. They’re well-funded professionals, but they screwed up, triggered the alarm. I cut them off at the elevator. They seemed reluctant to engage directly. It’s possible they planned on getting in and out without detection.”

Something uncertain flashed beneath her usually stolid surface. Doubt. Maybe fear. That in itself nearly unhinged me. But a cascade here could mean life or death, for more than just me. I started my go-to background routine for moments like these, free-climbing the famous nose route of El Capitan in a single day. The surge of adrenaline was automatic. Nothing I’d ever done in life, including the moment of sexual release, consolidated me like that climb. Even after doing it eight times.

“So where’re the reinforcements?”

She raised a brow. “I thought you were them.”

The elevator car reached the level of the lab. “What about—”

“Campus security? Come on, Buck. What do they know about clearing a building of hostiles?” She winked. “I’d much rather have renowned adventurer and pain-in-the-ass Jim ‘Buck’ Buckner by my side.”

I tried to shift toward the control panel. Marisol cut me off.

“Besides, you know how admin is. They want this dealt with quietly.”

“When has dealing with the THS ever been done quietly?”

Marisol frowned, genuinely taken aback. “THS?”

I lifted my ARGs to massage the bridge of my nose, then templed the controls to confirm they were indeed dead. “Technology.” I shrugged.

“The THS?” She snapped her fingers.

“Sorry. I received a package from them this morning.”

Marisol waved her hand in the air, “And?”

“Delivered in person.”

She nodded.

“Look, if it’s just going to be you and me, shouldn’t we be more interested in stopping whoever is on the other side of these doors than arguing about who they are?”

“I activated level one lockdown on the way out. Whoever they are, they’re trapped until we release them.”

“They could be broadcasting.” I raised my voice.

Marisol growled. “Then make it fast. THS.”

“Listen, you’d have to see it to believe it.” I took off my ARGs. “I could show you, but…”

“The only backup was on your tablet.” Marisol shook her head. “I don’t know anything about your package—”

I snorted.

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t think this is THS.”

“Who then? What do they want?”

“I don’t know.”

“Guess.”

“Dammit, you know that’s your field.” She quickly pulled her hair loose and ran her fingers through it once, restructuring her always tight ponytail.

I took advantage of the opportunity to slap my palm against the DNA scanner. “Then assess the situation.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You tell me, doctor. Have you discovered anything significant of late?”

I rubbed my burning eyes, one hand still on the scanner. “We don’t have time for this.”

She thumped my ear with her forefinger. “Have you checked your test results lately? In the last twelve hours?”

“Oh.” I shook my head, thinking back through my morning procedure. I hadn’t. I’d left home early to pick up the spaghetti westerns in an attempt to make it up to Evie. “No. Not since 23:30 last night.”

“Well, then, if I were to assess the situation, I would say someone among our competition has beaten us to our own test results.”

“Good God!” Removing my hand from the scanner, I slapped my forehead.

The automated elevator voice rang out clearly, “DNA confirmed. Level one lockdown still in effect. Have a nice day, Dr. Buckner.”

My eyes widened as Marisol clutched me by the collar, slamming me against the back wall and stepping in front at the same time. She shouldered her favorite EM weapon. A quick glance revealed she’d set it to level five, a level at which I’d never seen the weapon operated and Marisol wouldn’t even discuss.