Chapter 9 #2
She shoved open the door, squinted against the glare of fluorescent lights, then slipped inside before Bodie closed the door behind them, careful not to let it slam.
It took a few moments before his eyes had adjusted enough to study the room without shielding his face, blocking out half the light.
Stainless steel tables lined three of the walls, rows of beakers and test tubes organized into various groups.
A rack of computers covered the far wall, their hard drives humming softly in the background.
But the real discovery filled the center of the room.
Built out of thick glass, several large glowing terrariums rose chest high, each one filled with an ethereal, blue-green fungus, the words Mycena Noctiluca scribbled across a strip of masking tape in the upper left corner.
A scattering of empty cages had been stacked beside them, a lingering, musky scent clinging to the surfaces.
Bodie pointed to a small, refrigerated unit positioned under a counter with an adjoining wash station. “Not sure I want to know what’s inside, but…”
Buck grabbed the handle, took a breath, then pulled it open. A bright light blinked on, racks of vials lined neatly inside, locked behind a glass partition.
Buck pointed to the one on the left, a subtle blue tinge coloring the liquid. “It says Neuravive. Must be one of the compounds your dad talked about.”
Rowan nodded as she moved in beside Buck. “Right, but is it the potential cure or the nasty toxin?”
“No idea, but this other one…” Buck waved at the other vile glowing with a deep-red hue. “All it has is the letter L. My bet’s that it’s what the bastards are really after. There’re nearly twice as many red vials as blue.”
“Any chance we can break that glass? Grab a couple samples?”
Buck traced the edges, then studied the lock.
“Depends on how much time we have. Glass is thick. Likely bulletproof. And it’s a biometric scanner.
Either retinal or maybe even DNA. Thing’s off-the-charts sophisticated.
Nothing we’ll crack quickly, and we’d destroy the vials if we tried to use explosives. ”
“Had a feeling you’d say something like that.”
“I’ll take photos. Maybe Nick’ll be able to help us out.”
She stepped back, drawn to a cabinet in the far corner. “That looks interesting.”
She walked over, started working the tools in the lock while Bodie headed for the computer terminal on the far wall. A lone monitor sat on a small desk, the cursor blinking in the upper left corner.
He tapped the keyboard, started trying passwords, the screen springing to life a minute later. “Buck? Buddy, watch the door. Whistle if your Spider-Sense starts tingling.”
Buck shook his head, took up his position at the door, cracking it open a few inches as Bodie scrolled through the files, reading some of the data, when he found a folder labeled Test Subjects — A, Dispersion Trials — L. Odd numbers filled the screen, what he assumed was code for the results.
He moved to the next folder, clicking it open when the name on the screen made his blood run cold — Scott — L — Observations.
“Bodie.”
He whipped his gaze to Rowan, her voice barely a whisperer.
She waved him over, a blue folder gripped in her hands, the sheer pressure bending the edges. “I…” She swallowed, pointed to the initials on the top of the tab.
A.S.
Bodie stared at the front, a man’s photo pinned to the upper corner. Gaunt. Haunted, as if he’d faced his demons and lost. How Buck and Dalton had looked when Bodie had first met them. “Is this…”
Rowan’s chin quivered as she nodded. “Older. Merely a shell of the man I remember but, yeah. That’s my father.”
“There’s more on the hard drive.” Bodie flipped through the pages, dragging his finger along the lines as he skimmed the intel. “Christ. I’m pretty sure he’s alive. Is being held at some high security hospital along with half a dozen other test subjects. I—”
“Shit.” Buck, his voice harsh as a door slammed somewhere down the hallway. “We’ve got company. Hide. Now.”
Bodie grabbed Rowan, shoved her down next to him as they crouched behind one of the tables. Buck vanished into the shadows, a thick silence filling the room.
Footsteps.
Hurried, then the door bounced open, some guy in black tactical garb busting inside. Weapon at his chest, gaze focused forward. He headed straight for the computer, froze when he reached the monitor. “Damn it. Contact—”
Bodie moved.
Dove across the floor, rolled within striking distance. The guy turned mid-sentence, voice cutting off as Bodie struck him twice in the throat. The guy stumbled backwards, forehead hitting the desk as Bodie palmed his neck, slammed him down.
Less than thirty seconds, then silence.
Until an alarm wailed outside, red lights pulsing in the hallway.
Buck hooked Bodie’s arm. “We need to fly. Now, brother.”
Bodie darted back to the computer, yanked that hard drive off the stack, then quickstepped over to the door — fell in behind Rowan as she stepped out.
Footsteps.
Steady. Strong, twin beams slicing through the shadows, bouncing off the walls, finally settling on the door.
But they’d already engaged — jumped over that damn laser beam — closed the distance.
Rowan veered left, Bodie right, each taking one of the men.
A few direct strikes, a couple kicks and Rowan had her guy tumbling onto his ass. Setting off that auxiliary charge.
The wall exploded, showered dust and concrete shards through the air. The force slammed Bodie against the wall, ears ringing, smoke burning a line down his throat. Just like in the park, that same scent of cordite and copper saturating the air.
Bodie’s guy stilled next to him, blood pouring from a wound to his neck. Either some wood or a piece of rebar, the end poking through the skin.
Buck stumbled over, legs shaking, hair a mess of dust and wood chips. He heaved them both to their feet, gave Rowan a quick once-over, then shoved them toward the exit.
“Code Black.” Dalton’s voice sounded over the comms, half of the last word lost amidst the ringing. “I’ve got multiple contacts moving in fast. Go right. There’s a set of stairs at the north end. Head up. Skylight to the roof. I’ll clear a path.”
Bodie didn’t question Dalton, just waved Buck ahead — sprinted after him. Rowan limped the first few steps, then caught her stride, hugging Buck’s six as they rounded a corner — angled toward a metal staircase vanishing into the darkness.
They hit the stairs as footsteps pounded the floor behind them, shouts rising above the tapping. Bodie fired off a couple cover rounds when a group of men breached the corner, sending them doubling back as Buck grabbed the handrail — hauled ass up the steps.
Bodie followed behind Rowan, blocking any possible shot when a spray of semi-automatic fire lit up the space, one bullet ricocheting off a metal rung. Sparks showered Bodie’s face, the resulting sting spurring him on.
They took the steps two at a time, burst onto the upper floor, a large skylight brightening the far end. Buck waved them ahead, tossed a canister down the stairs, each tiny reverberation echoing through the air.
Shouts erupted beneath them, a clatter of boots scattering in every direction before the flash bang detonated — drowned the room with lights and sound. Smoke billowed up through the opening, muffled groans mixing in with the lingering roar.
Bodie stopped beneath the skylight as a loud crack sounded below. Sharp. Low.
Dalton.
Had to be. Buying them time. Keeping any forces at bay long enough for them to access the roof, despite putting his own location in jeopardy — risk having every sentry hunting him down.
Bodie shoved the thought aside. The faster they escaped, the safer Dalton was, too.
A couple rounds shattered the hinges holding the hatch — popped the lid open with a nerve-rattling screech. He shoved his joined hands at Buck, but the man waved him off, cupping both of his together.
Bodie frowned but accepted, pushing the hatch aside, then hauling himself up. Rain cooled his face as he rolled onto the roof, that same buoy clanging in the distance.
He turned, offered Rowan his hand as Buck heaved from below. She all but shot out the opening, landing beside him in under five seconds.
More shots.
Busting through the windows beneath them. Dalton’s aim almost frightening. Bodie reached down, again, locked his hand around Buck’s forearm and lifted. His buddy grabbed the edge, pulled with him until he crested the lip, scooted to the side.
The comms crackled. “Bodie. Brother, I’ve got men swarming the building. You three need to disappear and fast.”
Rowan ran to the edge, looked over. “No fire escape, and it’s a good fifteen feet to the adjoining cannery roof. Suicide in the dark with everything slick from the rain, assuming I could jump the distance at all.”
Bodie scanned the area. Fog rolled in off the water, the alarm still blaring through the building. Flashlights lit up the mist, footsteps banging up the metal stairs.
“Here.” Buck waved them over.
A thick, rusted old pipe spanned the gap between the buildings, the far end a couple feet lower as it edged the adjoining roof. What Bodie guessed had been some kind of slurry run during the cannery’s heyday.
Buck pushed on it. “It’s sketchy, but it beats dying.”
“If it holds.” Rowan shook her head. “That’s a pretty big if.”
Bodie looked at the pipe, at the ground three stories beneath them. “It’ll hold, just don’t look down.”
Dalton cursed in Bodie’s ear. “You’re out of time. Whatever you’re gonna do, go now.”