Far below they could see the white of the scientists’ coats, and the bustling sec men.
Once they were all safely over, Dean commented that the scene below looked like a nest of snow ants, disturbed by a hungry bear.
J.B. agreed with the boy. “Somethings got up their asses, that’s for sure.”
They had to work their way through a maze of narrow passages, then descend through a trapdoor into a deserted service corridor. J.B. led them along the hall and down an iron staircase onto the first floor.
Mildred took over the job of guiding them, using the experience of her previous recce.
“The operating rooms and main research labs are down here,” she informed them, “but we need to sneak across toward the outer passage that runs behind the rooms.”
That was easier said than done with the whole institute buzzing. Twice they had to cut into side rooms, luckily finding them empty, while sec patrols jogged by.
They were nearing the farther end of the wing, where Mildred had spotted the poor ruined victims of the scientists’ crazed research, when they all heard the sound of clicking heels approaching from a side corridor.
“One person,” Jak said.
“Take him quietly,” J.B. warned.
The last two side doors had been locked and bolted, so there was nowhere to run and hide. The only option was to stand and fight.
“Take him with one of your knives, Jak,” the Armorer ordered, “first moment he appears.”
The noise of the feet was growing louder, closer, echoing and distorted.
Jak reached behind his back, under the ragged jacket, feeling for his concealed blade. Beneath the stark overhead lighting his white hair seemed like a veil of blazing magnesium, his eyes glinting like tiny rubies. He gripped the hilt tight between finger and thumb.
Doc whispered to the Armorer. “Might it not be a risk worth the taking to try to capture this person alive? Then we can question him concerning the whereabouts of our three missing companions.”
J.B. shook his head. “No, Doc. Too risky. Just a quick clean chill.”
Now the sound of boots was almost on top of them, right around the nearest corner.
The moment the figure appeared, Jak sent his knife spinning through the air, aimed toward the throat of his intended victimKrysty Wroth!
Chapter Thirty-Four
The woman’s reflexes were so miraculously fast that it was almost as if she had known that the thrown knife was driving toward her throat.
She already seemed to be ducking against the needle-sharp point, moving sideways with the grace and power of a ballet dancer, dropping almost into a full crouch, so that the steel whispered through the tight fiery curls, snipping off a shredded lock that tumbled in slow motion to the white tiles, lying there like a tiny dead flame spider.
The knife hit the wall, angling off in a shower of snowy plaster, hitting the opposite wall, lower down, before losing its momentum farther down the passage, sliding along the immaculate floor.
“Gaia! That’s a good greeting from my oldest friends.”
“Sorry. You all right?” Jak asked, running quickly toward her, touching her shoulder lightly with a hand as he passed her. He stooped to pick up and sheathe his knife, first checking the point to make sure it hadn’t been damaged by the miss.
“Fine,” she replied, straightening, touching her head where the knife had sliced by.
Mildred put her arms around the taller woman, hugging her. “Thank God you’re all right, honey. They didn’t hurt you with their experiments?”
Krysty shook her head. “No. I think they mean well. Just asked me a lot of questions.” She hesitated a moment. “Then they let me go again.”
J.B. patted her on the shoulder. “We’ve found out what they’re doing here, Krysty.”
“What?”
“Cloning,” Doc replied. “They are replicating animals and humans, and we believe that they don’t ‘mean well,’ as you put it.”
“Really?” Krysty looked genuinely surprised. “Why?”
“We’re not sure.” Mildred glanced behind her, wondering if she’d detected a sound. “Seems that it’s what they’ve been working toward for all this time. Want to create a sort of cleansed master race. Doc’s right, Krysty. They don’t mean well, any more than the Nazis meant well when they created Dachau, Auschwitz and Belsen. Don’t let them kid you.”
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