A jarring clatter and a curse reverberated through the hangar. One of the men stood next to a toolbox, rubbing his knee, a metal can rolling at his feet. The other man lifted his comm unit.
“Turn on the lights in the hangar!”
The response was soft, but loud enough for Alyssa’s hearing. “We did an emergency shutdown. It’ll take two minutes for the system to reboot.”
“We don’t have two minutes!”
Alyssa leaned into Paul, catching a stronger trace of his scent. “Follow me. Tread softly.”
They approached the glass elevator. Alyssa looked down the shaft. The elevator cabin was about ten feet below them. There was a gap between the cabin and the glass enclosure for the counterweight. Wide enough to squeeze through. She studied the glass enclosure, trying to judge its thickness, then at the pistol in Paul’s hand.
“Paul, I’m going to need the pistol,” she said.
“For what?”
“I’m going to shoot at the glass enclosure of the elevator to weaken it. The cabin is about ten feet below us. We’ll jump down onto the cabin, squeeze past it, and climb down to deck two.”
Paul looked at her, stunned. “You want me to jump through a glass pane into a hole I can’t see.”
“Yes,” she said.
Paul handed her the pistol. “Just remember, I’m blind as a badger-mole.”
She took the pistol in her right and gripped Paul’s hand in her left. “It’s about five steps to the elevator shaft. Use your arm to shield your face.”
Alyssa pointed the pistol at the glass enclosure.
“Now!” she whispered and took off, pulling Paul with her.
She squeezed the trigger three times. The muzzle flash and crack of each shot assaulted her senses as they tore spiderwebs in the glass.
“Jump!” she yelled to Paul and lifted her arm to shield her face.
They crashed through the glass—and dropped down the shaft. An instant later they landed on the roof of the elevator cabin.
Paul screamed and collapsed, clutching his left ankle, his face twisted in agony.
“Paul!” Alyssa dropped the pistol and grasped Paul’s shoulders.
“My leg…” he moaned.
“Can you stand?”
“I… I don’t know.” He slowly clambered up, leaning heavily on Alyssa, then gently shifted weight to his left leg.
“Ow!” He staggered.
Alyssa caught him. “We’re almost there.” She studied the gap between the cabin and the glass shaft. She gripped the heavy counterweight cable and guided Paul’s hand to it. “We can squeeze between the elevator and the shaft wall. I’ll go first.”
Paul nodded. He picked up the pistol and slipped it into his waistband as Alyssa shimmied through the narrow space along the cable. She wedged her feet into a narrow ledge.
“I’m through. Come on down.”
A few seconds later, Paul’s legs appeared beneath the elevator as he made his way down the cable.
“That’s it. A few more inches,” she said. “There’s a ledge.”
Paul sighed with relief as he rested his foot on the ledge.
“We have to keep moving,” she said.
They descended on the cable, Alyssa leading the way. Paul grunted with exhaustion and pain. Alyssa counted the decks as they worked their way down.
“This is it,” she said. She stepped onto another ledge.
The glow of the light from above illuminated the shaft in soft light.
“They must have restored the lights in the hangar!” Paul called out.
“I need you to hold me in place while I try to pry the doors open,” Alyssa said.
Paul slid down next to her. He kept hold of the cable with one hand, and balanced Alyssa as she pressed both palms against the door across the shaft, trying to force them open. She strained with the effort, but the doors stuck together as if they had been welded in place.
A rumbling noise filled the shaft and the counterweight cable lurched up, jerking Paul’s arm before he could let go. He teetered on the narrow ledge. Alyssa pushed him back against the wall. He stared at her, wide-eyed, then at the cabin barreling down at them.
“Look for an emergency door release. A lever or something like that!” Paul called out.
Alyssa frantically scanned the walls. She spotted a recessed lever just above the door. She twisted it, and the doors twitched with a soft click.
Alyssa pressed her hands against the doors and pushed them apart. The panels slid open. They jumped through, seconds before the elevator zoomed past.
Alyssa pushed to her feet, panting. At any other time, she would have been happy to spend a week exploring all the toys packed in this gymnasium-sized billionaire playground, dimly lit by the emergency lights. A sixty-foot mahogany tender boat sat in a drydock in the middle of this aquatic garage. A dozen Jet Skis, motorcycles, and all-terrain vehicles lined up along the far wall.
“Looks like we’re in the right place.” Paul pointed at a cylindrical vessel that hung suspended by steel cables against a wall lined with diving gear. “Is that a bloody submarine?”
Alyssa ignored the sub and raced to a black, arrow-shaped boat stationed in a nook. She eyed the stern and the wide twin nozzles below the water line.
“It’s a jet boat!”
“Blinding! But we still have to get it into the water!” He hobbled over to the control of the tender door and examined it. “It looks like the door pivots down and makes a dock.” He pressed the button. Nothing. He pressed again.
“Doesn’t work on emergency power! I’m going to look for a manual override.”
“No time,” Alyssa countered. She glanced at the rails along the ceiling and cranes hanging from them. And no time to hook up the boat, either, even if we had power.
She spotted an SUV-sized amphibious vehicle parked across the drydock then eyed the door again.
If I can get it going fast enough…
“Find a rope!” she yelled to Paul and took off for the vehicle. “A thick one!”
“What?”
“Just do it!”
She rushed to the amphibious vehicle and climbed inside. An array of switches and levers confronted her.
It’s just a car that floats, right?
She spotted a button marked “Start” and pressed it. The engine roared to life. She swung the vehicle around the drydock and came to a screeching halt next to the jet boat.
Paul speed-limped to her, an armful of coiled nylon line in his hands.
She snatched the rope and fastened one end to the tow hook of the vehicle. She threw him the other end.
“Oh no…” he muttered as realization struck.
“Tie it to the jet boat—” she pointed at the two cleats on the bow—“then get in! We’ll use the vehicle to ram the door open, and it’ll pull us out behind it in the jet boat!”
Alyssa raced to the wall with the scuba equipment and picked up an oxygen tank. She lugged it back and threw it on the passenger seat.
“Clear!” Paul yelled from the back. She pulled forward slowly, cringing as the jet boat scraped along the floor.
She lined up the amphibious car with the tender door.
“Ready?” she glanced at Paul.
“You’re crazy,” he replied, then his lips curved into a grin despite the pain that burned in his eyes. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
She threw the gear shift into neutral and jammed the scuba tank between the throttle and the seat. The engine growled under full acceleration.
Let’s hope this thing is as strong as it looks… She popped it into gear. As the vehicle careened forward, tires squealing, she leaped onto the back seat then the rear deck and launched herself into the jet boat. The rope tightened, and the jet boat lurched forward.
Alyssa and Paul were thrown against the seats as the boat screamed across the floor, sending sparks flying. They beelined for the center of the ten-foot-wide door. Alyssa squeezed Paul’s hand. Then the vehicle ve
ered off to the left.
“Nonono!” Alyssa yelled an instant before the deafening crash.
The amphibious SUV barreled into the edge of the tender door, bursting it open, but the impact lodged the vehicle into the corner instead of catapulting it out into the water and pulling the boat with it.
The jet boat screeched across the floor, slowing down. Alyssa’s heart raced as it skidded for the water before coming to a stop, its front half hanging off the ledge two feet above the water.
Before she had a chance to react, Paul leaped out and hobbled behind the boat, then strained against it, pushing it forward.
“Get those lines off!” he yelled, grunting.
She jumped on the bow and worked the cleats, untying the boat from the other vehicle. She felt the boat inch forward and teeter down.
“Come on,” Paul grunted. “Only a couple more—”
A door crashed open. Torin stormed into the garage an instant before the boat tilted and slipped into the water.
Torin rushed forward as the boat slowly drifted away from the ship. Too slowly.
“Come on, Paul!” Alyssa yelled.
“Get out of here!” Paul called out then turned and faced Torin, shielding the boat as it drifted away.
“No!” Alyssa screamed.
Paul rushed Torin. The big man did not attempt to step aside. He took Paul’s attack head-on without flinching. He locked Paul into a chokehold. Paul raked at Torin’s arm, but the big man continued crushing his neck.
Alyssa screamed in horror as Paul collapsed to the deck, unconscious.
Torin stalked to the boat. He spotted the line still attached to the bow. His lips curved into a smile as he plucked it from the deck and tugged on it.
Alyssa stared at him, frozen in terror, bile burning in the back of her throat, as more security guards flooded into the room while he reeled in Alyssa and the boat like a prized deep-sea catch.
Paul twitched. His eyes fluttered open. He shook his head, as if trying to clear it. He staggered to his feet and pulled out the pistol.
“Stop!” Paul yelled, pointing the weapon at Torin.
The big man turned. “Even if you shoot me, she won’t get away,” he said. “You can’t win.”
“I’ve heard that before,” Paul replied. He gazed at Alyssa with a strange look in his eyes. His eyes shifted to the oxygen tank next to the amphibious vehicle.
Alyssa’s heart stopped.
No.
He shifted the pistol then found her eyes one more time. He smiled. His lips mouthed three words. They sounded in her head as clearly as if Paul had whispered them into her ear.
I love you.
Alyssa’s scream tore through the night as Torin rushed Paul.
Paul fired the weapon.
The blast cut off her scream. Alyssa flew onto the deck of the speedboat as the blast hurled bodies from the ship and pushed the boat into open water. A wall of blue flame rolled over her, blast-furnace hot.
“Paul!” Alyssa screamed, tasting blood.
Dazed, she lifted her head. The entire tender dock was engulfed in flames, the boats and other vehicles blazing. A second blast erupted as a fuel tank exploded, hurtling debris into the open water.
Alyssa collapsed on the deck, eyes scanning the water.
“Paul!” she called out, sobbing.
The ship illuminated as its power was restored. Moments later, the fire alarm claxon wailed into the night.
Her headset crackled. Alyssa forgot it was still in her ear.
“Alyssa!” Clay’s voice rang in her earpiece. “Alyssa, are you there?”
“Paul…” Alyssa cried. “The blast…” Her voice gave out.
“Where are you? What happened?”
“I’m in the water. On the speedboat… but Paul… the explosion.” The words came between sobs. “He blew up the… so I could…” She moaned. “God… I think he…”
Clay inhaled sharply. “You have to get out of there.”
“I can’t! Not without Paul!”
“You only have a few seconds before they spot you. You won’t be able to outrun the chopper once it’s airborne. You have to move now!”
“No!”
“Ally, please listen to me,” Clay said, his voice shaking. “If they get you, Paul sacrificed himself for nothing.”
She sobbed, scanning the water near the ship one last time, straining her eyes for any sign of movement.
I’m sorry, Paul… I’m so sorry…
Her mind and body were numb as she fired up the boat and gunned the throttle forward, speeding away from the ship.
Part 2
CONVERGENCE
10 Korzo Laboratory
Yuri Korzo’s skin tingled as he studied the brick-shaped object on the display. He admired the form for what it was, for what it was capable of, for what it had already achieved. Nature’s ultimate evolution of lethality.
Variola major. Smallpox.
One of the most virulent and deadliest diseases known to humanity, the virus was responsible for taking half a billion lives in the twentieth century alone. It was also the only human disease ever that, through massive global vaccination efforts, was completely eradicated from naturally occurring on the planet. Eradicating the disease eliminated the need for further vaccinations. And no vaccinations meant no immunity.
Because of this, only a handful of sites around the world were authorized to store the virus, under tightest protocols and security. Fortunately, his foresight had allowed him to acquire and stock away several strains before any possession of the virus was strictly outlawed and regulated by the world’s governments.
Yuri had no idea whether the Hybrid woman was aware of his personal stockpile when she contacted him or whether it was just happenstance. No matter what brought them together, he had the tools and the knowledge to give her what she needed.
He scrutinized the dumbbell-shaped viral core that contained the smallpox DNA. His first step was to deactivate it. Throughout his career, he did many things that were of questionable ethics, but he wasn’t about to reintroduce smallpox into the world. For now, to satisfy the woman’s directive, he only required the virus envelope and its unrivaled ability to infect anything with which it came into contact. It would provide the perfect delivery vehicle for the even more lethal cargo that he was about to place inside it.
Yuri activated the molecular manipulator, a marvel of technology that translated the movements of his hand and fingers into the microscopic environment, allowing him to directly handle the virus. With practiced, steady movements, he maneuvered the articulating arm toward the pathogen. He held his breath when he made contact with the outside of the viral envelope then pressed through it and removed the DNA core.
He exhaled. The first part was completed. The next would be trickier.
Yuri moved the manipulator arm to the pod containing the ancient bioweapon, admiring the capsule surrounding it with a self-satisfied smile. The capsule was a molecular timer, his own creation of an assembly of proteins that decayed at a precise and predetermined rate, functioning like a molecular countdown. The combination of the highly infectious smallpox delivery vehicle and his own molecular timer would allow the smallpox-enveloped ancient bioweapon to spread through an entire population and lie dormant until the molecular countdown reached zero, triggering the bioweapon at exactly the same instant in all infected individuals.
He took out a handkerchief and dabbed his head, allowing himself a moment of triumph before moving the merged virus into the replicator.
It was time to make history.
Alyssa stood in her second-story bedroom of the Renley estate, a faraway gaze passing through the open window into the garden below. Raindrops fell against her skin as she fought back the tears.
It’s all my fault.
The door behind her opened, the sudden draft stirring her hair. Footsteps approached. Clay. A moment later she felt his hand on her arm. She turned, wordlessly, and buried her head in his shoulder. Th
e tears came again. He wrapped his arms around her.
“I’m so sorry…” she sobbed.
“It’s not your fault,” Clay said.
“I should have never let him come with me.”
“You could not have kept him from going with you, you know that.”
“I—” her voice cracked and her words died. She stood for several moments before swallowing to gain her speech. She gently pulled back. “Were you able to find anything?”
“I was able to recover some of the data, but,” he hesitated, studying her face, “perhaps we should wait—”
“No,” Alyssa said. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve.
Clay nodded softly. “Lord Renley is waiting in the library.”
Alyssa followed Clay down the marble staircase and into the spacious room. George Renley glanced up from a computer terminal, and their gazes met. Just like when she arrived at the estate a couple of hours ago, his eyes shone warmly, lacking the cool superiority to which she had grown accustomed. He nodded wordlessly. Alyssa appreciated the silence. There was nothing left to say that hadn’t been said when she arrived. She owed him her life. The GPS in the boat had led her to the harbor in Tenerife. An hour later she was on the jet that brought her back to England. It was impossible to imagine that only eight hours ago she was on the Valediction with Paul. She swallowed around the lump in her throat. There would be time to grieve later.
“What have you learned?” she asked.
“Not a great deal as of yet, unfortunately,” Renley replied.
Clay moved to the workstation. “We were only able to obtain disjointed fragments of the database before we lost connection. On top of that, the data stream became corrupted when the server went down. And if that’s not enough, what we did manage to retrieve is encrypted.” He sighed. “It’s like trying to untangle a well-digested digital hairball.”
Clay plopped down onto the chair. He pointed to the monitor. “I’m running a recovery algorithm to put together the pieces.”
“Are you able to do a keyword search on the data we do have?” Alyssa asked, trying to make sense of the jumbled display.
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