ZANDERTHAL'S REMOTE COMPOUND

"What are you doing in here?" a man said. A tuft of black hair hung down over scrunched eyebrows and a pair of thick-framed glasses. He pushed up the sleeves of a white lab coat to his elbows. "I'm not aware of a scheduled patrol of the sleep tank. Show me your badges."

"Sure thing," Jake said, casting a sidelong glance at Sarah, ending with a follow my lead nod.

"We thought we heard something," she said as they approached the man. He appeared no older than thirty years old. "So, we came to check it out."

"Really?"

As they walked, Jake fingered his security card, waved it side to side as a distraction. "That's right. We have clearance, so what's the problem?"

"The problem is... she's a woman... and there are no women employed here as guards."

"That sounds sexist. I'm offended." Sarah whipped her pistol from its holster.

The man flinched, scowling at them. "Who are you, and what do you want?"

While Sarah trained the gun on the scientist, Jake slipped around behind him. "I want you to go to sleep."

"What on Earth are you—"

He clubbed the man over the head with the butt of his pistol and watched him collapse to the floor. Jake had done such a thing years back when he and Tony escaped from a whaling ship after sabotaging their harpoons. He judged the amount of force necessary to incapacitate the man appropriately. It seemed to be the quickest and easiest way to solve their dilemma. But the way the scientist thudded to the floor shocked Jake, speechless. He didn't want to hurt the guy, but he didn't want him calling for reinforcements, either.

The white part of Sarah's eyes widened, clearly visible, encircling her sapphire irises. "You can kill someone like that. This is not the movies."

Jake returned the gun to the holster and dropped to a knee, placing two fingers over the jugular vein on the scientist's neck. "He's alive."

"Thank God." Sarah sighed, and then looked around the room. She pointed toward the back wall... finding a door. "Stick him in there. Might be a storage closet."

Jake shook his head, now feeling grateful he hadn't killed the man. He grabbed an arm of the unconscious scientist and Sarah latched onto the other, and they dragged him across the concrete floor. At the door, Jake opened it, and they pulled him inside. The interior of the small closet held a mop bucket, a wide-headed floor broom, and several lab jackets hanging from hooks on the wall.

"Good choice," Jake said, backing out and closing the door. "We should leave the same way we came."

"Let's hope this guy stays out long enough for us to make our exit."

Sarah led this time. Jake didn't mind. He just wanted to get clear of this section of the building before they got caught. They exited the sleep tank, as the scientist called it, and crept up to the back of a semi truck. Jake nodded for Sarah to go, but she didn't move, her eyes locked on the guard activity at the front of the warehouse. Then, when the moment seemed right, she darted for the storage room where they originally entered. He sprinted behind her, tight on her tail. They slipped inside, passing the gas cylinders standing erect in rows around the room, and entered the alleyway between the buildings.

Jake whisked by Sarah and walked right out into the open. He had to or she would've done it herself.

"Hello," she said, irritation in her voice, tagging along beside him. "What are you doing?" She would object, since it was his idea.

"We're security detail patrolling the grounds, and we need to check out the giant complex where Zanderthal went."

"But—"

"Just be glad that was a research scientist checking on his pet project and not a horde of guards coming for us. We made it past that obstacle, and I see no other option but to keep going."

He eyed her as they strode along a sidewalk, headed toward the rear entrance of the central facility. Block walls painted beige rose over three stories high, topped with a domed roof, darkened in the shadows of night. In the grass, near a bench, a pair of men stood, smoking cigarettes. A woman wandered toward the bench and sat, fiddling with a cell phone. Civilians. Good.

"So we check out the festivities," Sarah replied with a shaky ring to her voice. "But I'm the only female guard on the security force."

"True, but your hair is up in a cap, and Dr. Nerdy back there just got too close to peg you." Jake looked at her. "You make a pretty man, by the way."

"Shut up."

"Just remember to glance away when you get too close to anyone, especially guards."

Sarah snorted. "Okay. Let's do this."

Jake brushed the inside of his wrist against the handle of the holstered pistol, drawing a flicker of reassurance. They entered the glass doors and filtered through a crowd of people, all of them moving down a long passageway. Sarah looked at Jake as they walked. He avoided her eyes. He didn't want her to see the edginess bubbling up within him. Beneath his now fake confident exterior, he wondered how long their con game would hold up? The answer was probably not long enough.

The hallway itself was taupe-colored. Ductwork and conduit lines ran above their heads, thirty feet up, painted black. The lighting fixtures hung suspended in the air, illuminating the concourse and the lower portions of the walls.

Jake increased his pace down the corridor. Sarah seemed to sense the tenseness in his brisk steps and sped up to stay at his side. As soon as someone found the two men in their boxers and released them from their prison lockers, they'd give a full description of the people who stole their uniforms. Jake figured they'd be making noise a lot sooner than the scientist would.

And the chase would be on.

Look confident, he told himself. Act like you know what you're doing and you know where you're going.

Other members of the security force appeared occasionally and passed by without incident. Whenever Jake and Sarah encountered Zanderthal's men, he'd tip his head, offer a casual salute and say, "Mate," in his best Aussie voice. Sarah looked away each time, but finally said he should leave the Australian accent to her.

They turned a corner and entered the main flow of the crowd around the central facility. Again, civilians hurried along, possibly late for the night's event. A woman with flaxen hair in a snug maroon dress scurried past Jake and entered the ladies' room. He slowed his gait, nudging Sarah to follow suit.

He wanted to know who these people were? Why were they here? How did they get on Zanderthal's ticket list?

From within the heart of the building, drums thumped and voices echoed. The sounds intensified, as if something dramatic had transpired within its walls. Through an archway, Jake glimpsed the uproar. Spectators stood, yelling and pumping fists. He was about to look closer when a band of military officers drew his gaze.

He squeezed Sarah's arm and whispered, "Check out the men up ahead."

Decked out in full dress uniforms, the group strutted toward them, rank bars trimming their shoulders and chests. They weren't Australian, far from it. The soldiers had to be from Asia, possibly China, he figured, maybe Korean. It was only a guess, and probably a good one. Their foreign tongues carried on a casual conversation, lending credence to his suspicions.

"Their not infantry," Sarah said. "Their older and higher in rank."

The men crossed by without a glance and took the passage into the interior of the complex.

"I think you're right, but they look more like mid-ranks, like lieutenants or majors. The generals wouldn't be hanging out in the open. They'd be inside some grand luxury box viewing the night's main event. Probably with Zanderthal, if they have any link to the chairman. But those men could be here for other reasons."

They continued on.

"Let's see what's got the crowd so pumped up," Sarah said, steering Jake toward an entrance. "We're here. We might as well check out the show."