part0067

" I 'll never get the smell of sewer off me," Savage complained in a low tone as he peered around the lab Anja's entrance had led them into. They’d removed the rubber hazmat suits they'd worn, but something unpleasant still lingered. He wondered if it would always linger for the rest of his days.

Anderson wore the scrunched-up look that said he had a similar problem. They were dressed in combat gear with the body armor given to them by Pegasus, and both carried weapons. Just because they were inside didn't mean they wouldn’t run into any resistance. They were there after hours, but there would still be security prowling around the place.

He didn't want to have to kill anyone, though. That was why Anja had them enter to retrieve the intel during the off hours.

There seemed to be no way to actually ignore the stink that clung to every fiber of their being. He managed to stop himself dragging in a deep breath and instead, rolled his shoulders and sighed heavily.

“We need to keep moving," Anderson said softly. There hadn't been much conversation between them the rest of the way through the tunnels. Neither of them wanted to talk about what they'd seen down there. The fact that this stuff was shipped out to every corner of the globe and that it could actually do the same thing it did in the Zoo was something they both needed time to digest.

"I'm wondering, though," Savage finally said as they hurried on through the triangular building. "That seems like an odd combination, right? Insects, rats…sure, okay, but a rattlesnake? Where did that come from?"

His companion shrugged. "I won’t pretend to know anything about anything but given that they test the stuff for human use, it’s possible that the combination of insect, rat, and reptile might have something to do with that. This goop…learns. It adapts and soaks in any DNA that it has been subjected to and extrapolates from it and builds on it. From what I've seen in the Zoo, it tests and tries things out. I don't know how it works, but it's effective."

"Obviously." His chuckle was dark and humorless. "However much of it that came down was enough to start a whole mushroom farm and bring that monstrosity to life, and then it had babies. So—"

"We're pretty damn fucked," his boss interrupted.

"Well, I was going for something more elegant than that, but that works, yeah," he agreed. "Back on topic, though. Anja, do you have any idea where we're going?"

"Well, we're working off the tracker you picked up from that merc you so mercifully released," she replied and sounded a little more subdued than usual. "I have it down to an IP address, but it’s basically shared with the whole wing of the building. You'll need to do some physical investigation when you get there."

"Well, is there any way to narrow it down?" he asked and scanned the hallway they were in. "I don't know if you've noticed, but this place is kind of huge."

"Don't get sassy with me now, Jer." She chuckled. "You boys are in the right wing, but you need to look for a room with the name Brian Haynes on the door. It's from his office."

The operative nodded and glanced at a camera he didn't doubt she already had access to.

"You’re looking as hot as ever, Jer. You might want to rethink the haircut, though."

"I cut my own hair," he protested.

"Yep, that's what I mean. Okay, I have access to the building details. It looks like Mr. Haynes is on the second floor. Room 207. Chop chop, boys."

"Who is this Haynes guy?" Anderson asked when they found the stairs.

"A low-level bureaucrat—a glorified accountant from the looks of things," the hacker replied. "Exactly the kind of man who would fly low enough on the radar to allow him to get away with this kind of shit."

"It sounds like our kind of guy." Savage guided them onto the second floor and located the room in question. He was the first through the door and secured the darkened office before he called Anderson in and turned the lights on.

"Okay, Anja, what are we looking for?"

"The office computer is where everything will be stored," Anja explained. "I can't access it from here, so you two will have to run through everything yourselves. Just make it all easily accessible, and I'll take it from there."

"I don't think she trusts us." He grinned.

"Well, I leave all the shooting and breaking bones to you guys, don't I?" she reminded him as Anderson turned the computer on. "Leave all the IT stuff to someone who knows what they're doing, okay?"

"On that topic, can you crack the computer pass—oh, never mind." The ex-colonel let his words trail off when he saw she had already broken in.

"Like I said, leave it to the professionals." She sounded smug. "Savage, keep an eye outside and make sure nobody walks in on you guys. The second floor is in a camera blind spot. Budget cuts, I'm afraid. You'll have to be my eyes and ears."

He didn't say anything as he moved toward the door. They'd left it cracked, which made it easy to monitor the corridor. To be safe, Savage turned the light in the office off. There was no sense in giving their position away.

"Is Savage sulking?" the hacker asked, presumably of Anderson, who tapped the keyboard.

"I think he doesn't want to tell you how awesome you are," the man replied without looking away from the screen. "He doesn't want to inflate your ego or something. And yes...maybe a little sulking."

Savage flipped the man off to avoid saying anything aloud. He was sulking—only a little—but a hint of worry nagged at the back of his mind.

"What's up, Savage?" she asked. "Don't worry, I've given Anderson a list of things to do and we're on a private connection. Tell him you're going to secure the hall."

He nodded. "Hey, I'll make sure that none of our security pals are coming this way."

The other man remained focused on the screen as the operative stepped out of the room and closed the door before he moved down the hall. He positioned himself closer to the stairs and elevators so he could keep an ear out for anybody approaching.

"Are you alone?" she asked.

"I know we didn't have the kind of relationship where we can talk about things before," she said tentatively. "But…well, I think we've grown closer over the past few weeks, and if you feel like the whole situation needs to be talked about… Well then, maybe...you know."

"I appreciate it, Anja," he said softly and leaned against the wall. "It's just a thing, I guess."

"Wow, that's a little too specific for me." She chuckled but sounded oddly nervous.

He smiled in response. "Yeah... It's…uh, the whole Zoo animal thing. Not that I have a phobia of Zoo animals or anything. You know what I mean, right?"

"Right, a monster straight out of the Zoo is a little hard to handle," she agreed.

"It's not only that," Savage said. "I don't want to say something and come off as a coward. I stayed clear of the Zoo for a reason. I can handle humans and the atrocities that come with them. Shooting people isn't difficult once you realize how terrible they are. But the animals...that’s a whole other ballgame. Not only is it terrifying, but if I wanted to shoot animals all day, I wouldn't have gone into the military."

"I think I get that." He recognized the background noise that he had come to associate with her leaning back and the seat groaning loudly in protest. "It's a whole different ballgame."

"It's probably stupid," he grumbled and folded his arms. "But combat is a mental game more than anything else, and I would be out of my depth. It's…different. There's something in me that makes me feel like there would be a block. Kind of like a writer's block, but for shooting things."

"Oh, well, that makes sense." She didn’t sound even a little sarcastic, which worried him more than he would have cared to admit. "Anderson's calling you back into the office."

"Right." He straightened quickly. "Thanks for the talk. And thanks in advance for keeping it between you and me."

"That depends. Will you buy me something pretty for my silence?" she asked as he moved toward the door.

"Well, I won't buy a bullet with your name on it," he offered.

"Ah, the gift that keeps on giving." The hacker sighed. "Deal."

He nodded and stepped into the office where Anderson was still working on the computer.

"Were you talking to yourself?" the former colonel asked and looking at Savage, who merely pointed at his ear in response. "Oh, right. Anyway, I finished transferring all the files to Anja and thought you might want a quick look at this."

The operative circled behind the desk to see what the other man stared at. A picture of a man displayed on the screen, older and dressed in a golfing outfit. He was talking to someone they recognized very easily.

"The big guy from the bar—what was his name?" Savage asked.

"Mr. Kelly. And do you recognize this guy he's talking to?"

Savage leaned in and narrowed his eyes. "He does look familiar. I think he was at one of the board meetings. Older guy, sticks to himself for the most part."

"Charles Stafford, one of the oldest members of the board. He’s been around forever, almost since the founding."

"So that's our elusive Charles, huh? I don't know why, but I thought he would be taller."

"Kelly over there is tall enough for the both of them," Anderson pointed out. "My question is, why does some low-level government accountant who plays middle-man to shady deals for extra cash have this picture on his computer?"

"Blackmail material?" Savage asked with a shrug. "Kelly has to have some shady connections. Putting those two together can't be the best situation for Charles, not with how the guy is attached to his squeaky-clean image."

"We already know that Charles is the man behind this. We now also know his connection to Kelly—which links him to our friend Chance. We should be able to handle him.”

"Well, handling him is one thing," Anderson pointed out. "Lifting the price he has on my head is quite another. We need to have a game plan that might kill two birds with one stone."

"That we do. But for now, we have what we need, right?"

"I have it all here," Anja confirmed. "You boys are good to go, and the security guys don't do their rounds for another half hour at least. Get out of there."

"Back into the sewers we go." Anderson forced a chipper tone as he shut the computer down.

Charles looked up as Kelly stepped back into his office for the second time in as many days—which was annoying enough on its own, but it was also necessary. There wouldn't be time for anyone to deliver these kinds of messages, and Kelly's voice was so unnerving on the phone.

The man tilted his head in query when his host moved to the mini fridge in the corner of his office, retrieved a bottle of water, and poured some into a glass. He pulled a small tablet from inside his coat pocket and dropped it inside.

"The damn motherfuckers are giving me ulcers," he hissed by way of an explanation as he sipped the medicine-infused water before he returned his stare to the giant of a man standing across from him.

"You called me," he said and folded his massive arms across his equally huge chest. "What can I do for you, Mr. Stafford?"

"They got to that dumbass Haynes somehow," Charles said with a significant glare. "He was both stupid and paranoid, a very dangerous combination. Apparently, he thought he might cover his ass by collecting incriminating evidence of our work together."

"How do you know about it?"

"You have your contacts and I have mine," he said dismissively. "But in the interests of collaboration, let's say I have an IT person who owes me a favor or two. I collect by making sure he keeps an eye on Haynes and other persons of interest. He has installed spyware on the man’s system—I don’t understand the ins and outs of it but it’s apparently cutting-edge, undetectable, and monitors his usage and communication. That was how we discovered the evidence he has compiled. More importantly, however, he received an alert of unscheduled usage. It appears that someone—and we have to assume our particular someones—raided his office after hours and copied files from his computer."

"Is security aware of this?" Kelly asked.

"I do have a pet security guard—low on the food chain but eager to please—whom I approached. Security is blissfully unaware of any intrusion, but it would appear that their footage is conveniently missing." He took another sip from his glass and grimaced before he returned to his desk. "It's them. No doubts about it. The only question is what the fuck are you doing to fix this problem?"

"My options are limited by your budget," the other man pointed out.

"Double the money," Charles snapped. "No, triple it. I want every person with a gun and a need for money to hunt these fuckers now." What was a paltry three million in the bigger scheme of things?

His visitor nodded. "I'll handle it personally, Mr. Stafford."

He watched the man leave and glared at the glass in his hand. He would give anything for it to be bourbon, but his doctor had told him that alcohol would only make the ulcers worse. He needed to reduce his intake of fat, alcohol, and stress.