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“Rayley’s been on a watch list for years,” Iverson said. “And once your descriptions got passed around the office, after the fiasco up at the cabin, his surveillance picked you up. You have to go to ground. Whatever you’re planning, just drop it and go. It has no chance of success now. Go!”

There was a click, and Walter was listening to a dial tone. He looked around to see Bell and Nina staring at him, questions in their eyes. Rayley and the students weren’t paying attention. They were pushing the loaded lab carts toward the door.

“It was Iverson.” Walter swallowed. “Latimer’s on his way. We were seen here. He said we have ten minutes to get out.”

Nina swore.

“Then we better get on the road,” she said, turning resolutely toward the door. “Come on.”

Bell nodded.

“Right,” he said. “Let’s go.”

Walter didn’t move. He shook his head.

“No,” he said. “No, not again. This was already so dangerous, and morally problematic. Now? With the federal authorities involved? No. I feel bad enough about what may or may not have happened to Roscoe and the rest of the band. But...” He looked over at May, who was smiling and laughing with Gary. “We just can’t ethically involve any more people without letting them know what they’re really getting into. They deserve to be told the truth of what’s going on.”

“Walter.” Bell’s voice was a warning growl. “You can’t be serious.”

“Even if I thought that was a great idea,” Nina said, “which I don’t, you said it yourself, there’s no time.”

“There has to be.” Walter stepped past them and raised his voice. “Doctor Rayley. Testers. Can you all come back, please? I have one more thing to say before we go.”

“Damn it, Walter.” Bell and Nina groaned in unison.

Looking curious, Rayley and the students all made their way back to the lab table and peered expectantly at Walter. He wiped his coat sleeve across his lips, then closed his eyes.

“We... I... Well, we haven’t been completely honest with you. Not that we’ve lied, we just haven’t told you the whole story. And now I’m going do that. As much as I can anyway. This is going to sound completely crazy, but I hope that, once you know exactly what we are up against, you will still be willing to help us today.”

He paused for a moment, looking into the curious and expectant faces. Weighing exactly what to tell them and what not to tell them.

He looked over at Bell, who was frowning, arms crossed.

Then at antsy Nina, who gestured to her watch.

“We aren’t just conducting theoretical experiments,” Walter said. “We are fighting to stop a killer. And we can’t do it without your help.” He let that sink in for a few heartbeats, then continued. “There’s no time to go into detail and answer all the reasonable and relevant questions you may have. Because the federal government is also after this dangerous, murderous man. Only they don’t want to stop him, like we do. They want to capture him and use him as what would undoubtedly turn out to be one of the most deadly nuclear weapons ever unleashed against humanity.”

Expressions on the faces of the students ranged from skeptical to angry to amazed. But he had no choice but to keep going. Time was not his friend.

“Worse, these same federal agents will be here in just a few minutes to arrest, interrogate, and violate the civil rights of every last one of us. And while we’re in their custody, the killer will be free to shoot everyone on the Golden Gate carousel in exactly...” He looked at his watch. “Sixty-two minutes.”

“Shoot them?” Kenneth frowned. “You don’t mean... the Zodiac Killer?”

Walter didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. Suddenly the mood in the lab went from casual skepticism to intense interest. So he just nodded.

“What we are planning is very dangerous,” he said. “With potentially lethal side effects for all of us, and everyone around us. But there are deadly consequences for the killer’s future victims should you chose not to participate. So, while I cannot make you help us, if you are unwilling, I sincerely hope that you will.”

“It’s no choice at all,” May said, stepping forward without hesitation. “I’m in.”

“Right,” Leslie echoed, stepping up beside May. “In.”

All the other students swiftly gathered around them. All of them in.

Walter hung his head, humbled and grateful.

“Thank you,” he said. “This is a wonderful thing you’re doing.”

“Yeah, fantastic,” Nina said. “But we’re not going to do it at all if we don’t get going. Now, come on. Let’s move!”

She clapped her hands and the students all hurried back to the lab carts and rolled them out into the hall. Walter let out a long, shaky breath and started to follow, but Nina put a hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze.

“Way to go, Walter,” Nina said. “You should have been a politician. Ask not what science can do for you...”

Bell nodded in agreement.

“Honestly,” he said. “I can’t believe you managed it.”

Walter shivered, suddenly chilled.

“I almost wish I hadn’t.”

They hurried into the hall and down the stairs.

* * *

Walter looked uneasily around the parking lot of the Institute as he followed Nina and Bell out. He was afraid they would find unmarked black cars, filled with Latimer’s men, blocking the drive. But everything seemed quiet. The students were loading the individual biofeedback machines into their vehicles and scrambling into their seats. May was driving a tan Ford station wagon. Kenneth drove a teal Volkswagen microbus, and Leslie drove a white eight-seat passenger van owned by the Institute.

“Maybe we made it,” he said, more to himself than to anyone else.

Nina climbed into the driver’s seat of her Beetle, and fired it up as Walter got into the back seat, and Bell slid in beside her. Before Walter had a chance to get buckled in, she was surging toward the drive and pulling out into the street.

“Easy,” Bell said. “The last thing we want to do is draw attention to ourselves.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nina said. “But Walter’s little speech cost us some precious time. We’ve got just under an hour to get to the park before that psycho starts his rampage.”

“Still,” Walter said, “we’ll be even more delayed if we get stopped for speeding.”

“Okay, okay,” she replied. “I suppose you’re right.” She slowed reluctantly as the bus, the van, and station wagon swayed out of the Institute lot and fell in behind her. They trundled down Stanford Avenue toward the Bay Bridge at a reasonable thirty miles an hour, while Walter and Bell swiveled their heads in every direction.

Walter was positive that he was going to spot a line of unmarked black Fords following them, or coming to intercept them.

And finally, just when he had begun to hope they might have made it into the clear, the dreaded black cars cruised into view.

40

The Beetle was just coming down the ramp on the San Francisco end of the Bay Bridge when Walter heard Bell suck in a quick breath, and he turned to look.

There, on the opposite side of the highway, starting up the ramp that would take them to the east-bound lower tier of the bridge, was a line of unmarked black cars in the middle of heavy traffic. In the driver’s seat of the first car, he saw a recognizable face with a square jaw and Hollywood tan.

“Oh, hell,” Walter said. “It’s Latimer.

Nina turned and looked, then laughed.

“This is great,” she said. “Look at them. They’re stuck. They won’t be able to turn around until he gets to the Oakland side of the bridge. And he won’t know that we’ve left the Institute until—”

She cut off when, as though he had heard her, Latimer turned his head and looked right at them. He did a double take and stomped on his brakes, nearly causing the cars behind him to rear-end him.