James Rollins - Altar Of Eden

He continued down the hall. Her office and lab were only a few doors down. Halfway there, a muffled crash echoed, sounding like it came from the front of the building. Her fingers tightened on Jack’s hand. No one else was supposed to be here.

Jack hurried toward her office door. He pushed it open, swung an arm out, and scooped her into the room ahead of him. She rushed inside as he softly closed the door. Framed against the frosted glass of the door’s window, she saw him lift a finger to his lips.

She hurried to her desk, bumping her knee against it in the dark. She had left the rifle case on top of her desk. She fumbled for it, undid the latches, and quickly assembled the two halves. Marines might be able to break down their weapons in the dark, but not her. She struggled for a breath, but finally the stock snapped into place.

Behind her, Jack kept watch on the door.

She grabbed two syringe cartridges and plucked the vial of M99 from its velvet-molded compartment in the case. It was stupidly dangerous to attempt this in the dark, but she had no choice. She might not be able to assemble a rifle blindfolded, but she had years of experience with needles and drug bottles. She quickly filled the two syringes and loaded them into the rifle.

As she turned Jack’s silhouette slipped back from the window. Through the frosted glass, darker shadows swept past out in the hallway, eerily silent. She had not even heard a footfall. One shadow stopped outside the door.

Lorna froze, holding her breath. Her heart pounded against her ribs.

Then the shadow moved on. She could guess where they were headed. The kennel ward lay in that direction. Still, they would be disappointed when they got there. They’d find mostly empty cages. While the lamb was still down there, the other rescued animals were up another level on the second floor, still caged in the genetics lab after Lorna’s testing.

But how long would it take to find the others, especially if the intruders were using electronic trackers? Would the devices even work inside?

After ten seconds, Jack crossed to her, moving unerringly in the dark. She tried to give him the rifle, but he pushed it back into her chest. His words were a breath against her ear. “Stay here. Stay hidden.”

He squeezed her fingers tighter to the rifle, communicating silently.

She understood.

The game had changed. What was a possibility before was now a terrifying reality. They were under siege. He refused to leave her unarmed while alone. From the firm grip on her fingers, this was one argument she wasn’t going to win.

He didn’t wait for any acknowledgment and moved back toward the office door. He eased the door open and slipped out. Once in the hall, he pulled the door silently closed.

Lorna stared at his silhouette out there, suddenly not wanting him to leave. But Jack had no choice. His shadow retreated, heading in the opposite direction from the intruders.

But how many more were out there?

JACK HATED LEAVING Lorna alone, but he dared not wait. He hurried down the dark hall toward the nearest exit. He should never have allowed her to come with him. The others, locked up in the cooler, had the best chance of avoiding any encounter with the assault team. And he didn’t harbor any delusions that these were ordinary thieves. These were professional killers, likely with military backgrounds.

His mind ran over their potential objectives, and he didn’t like the conclusions he came to. Clearly this nighttime raid was a cleanup operation, a continuation of what was started with the trawler’s explosion. The primary objective had to be the collection and elimination of the remaining animals. But what then? How extreme was the order, how thorough a cleanup was necessary to cover their tracks?

He feared the truth.

As he reached the end of the hall, a set of swinging double doors led out to the main lobby and the front entrance. He knew better than to attempt to exit that way. He remembered how swiftly and silently the team had moved down the dark hallway. The intruders had to be employing some form of night-vision equipment, and someone was surely guarding all the exits.

Knowing that, he wanted to get as close to the parking lot before abandoning the cover of the building. Any open window would do.

Still, he wanted to know what he faced.

He edged to the double doors. A pair of narrow, wire-reinforced windows allowed him to spy into the shadowy lobby. The main entrance-a set of glass doors-lay directly opposite his position. He saw no movement, no suspicious shift of shadows inside or outside.

But he wasn’t fooled.

He began to turn away, then stopped. If it hadn’t been so dark, he might have missed it. In the center of the lobby, half hidden by a sofa, a small blinking red light drew his eye. The waxing and waning glow illuminated a five-gallon steel canister on the floor.

The hairs on the back of his neck shivered at the sight.

Bomb…

Jack pulled back and swallowed his fear. At least he had his answer concerning the ultimate objective of this raid. The assault team wouldn’t be satisfied with just eliminating the animals.

This was a total clean sweep.

No one was meant to survive.

Jack pictured the others hidden in the building, both those below and Lorna locked in her own office. He had felt the tremble in her body as he whispered for her to stay. She had put her trust in him, a trust now proven to be sadly misplaced. Holing up here would only get them all killed, blown up during the firestorm to come.

He had only one choice.

If it was a war they wanted…

Turning back to the swinging door, he shifted his weight to one leg and kicked out with the other. The door swung open, and he tossed the flashlight into the lobby while flicking it on with his thumb.

The blazing light tumbled in a wheeling arc into the pitch-dark lobby.

Jack trusted that whoever was watching this door was using night-vision scopes. He didn’t have a flash-bomb to blind naked eyes, but the sudden burning flare of the flashlight through the night-vision scopes would achieve the same end: to momentarily blind any spying eyes while at the same time drawing attention to the lobby.

Jack turned on a heel and headed to the side of the hallway, to a window that led out toward the parklike grounds between the building and the parking lot. If this was going to be a war, he needed weapons.

He yanked the window open, punched out the screen, and climbed into the bushes just outside. He ducked into cover. The distraction would only buy him a minute at most.

It would have to be enough.

He shoved through the bushes and sprinted toward the dark parking lot. Off to the side, in the direction of the front door, he heard a muffled order crack out, angry, pissed.

Jack kept low as he ran, praying the others kept their heads down, too. Especially Lorna.

But he made a mistake, underestimated his opponent.

A sharp detonation blasted behind him. Startled, he tripped on the wet grass and fell headlong. He caught himself and shoulder-rolled to the side. He stared back toward the building. Fire and smoke spat out the front of the facility. Broken glass rained down as far as Jack’s position.

He sat in the grass, stunned. They’d blown the bomb. He had only hoped to distract the others while he fled the building. Blinded, they must have feared an escape out the front door and overreacted, triggering the bomb. It was overkill, like swatting a fly with a wrecking ball.

From this response, Jack knew two things about the leader of this assault team. The bastard was ruthless and determined.

Jack rolled back to his feet and set off for his truck.

If they were to survive, he would have to be the same.