UV light lit the chamber inside, casting the small room and its two occupants in a violet glow.
He leaned over next to her to look inside. After a moment his eyes made out broken office furniture, a toppled file cabinet, electrical cords hanging from the ceiling, and scattered debris that might have once been part of a physics lab.
Gant told her, "The science team felt it was important that they feel as if they are still in their original habitat."
She seemed ready to ask exactly what lived in this containment cell but stopped when the two occupants emerged from hiding spots underneath an upended couch and a pile of old books, respectively.
They were small, under five feet tall, and resembled children, except that they moved and acted more like primates.
"It is hard to see in the dark," Gant said. "But they are covered in all sorts of welts and bruises. The team here has done a much better job of keeping them healthy than how things were at Red Rock."
"These are the feral children?" She asked. "They grew up in an underground research complex?"
"Yes. There were several. These two are the only survivors."
She watched them for several seconds, seemingly transfixed by the sight. They were, after all, curious creatures. They were human by birth, but their environment had made them into dangerous monsters.
Gant shut the port.
"We can stop now if you would care to take a break," he offered.
"There are a few more cell blocks, aren't there?"
"Yes, but I know this is a lot to take in." Gant waved his hand toward the three doors they had just inspected. "Rather horrifying stuff, actually."
"Horrific? No, Thom, that's not how I'd describe it. Those men, the test animals, and the children … I don't find them horrifying, I find them sad. A couple of men disfigured in an experiment, animals turned rabid by researchers, and innocent children twisted and warped by a madman. They aren't monsters — none of them. They're victims."
He considered for a moment and conceded, "I see your point." He then smiled and assured, "But the next group of holding cells contain creatures not of our own creation, including bacteria from outer space currently residing in the bodies of some deceased Air Force personnel and a real-live extraterrestrial."
The two moved from the cell block into the main room. A pair of soldiers sat at a circular workstation with their eyes glued to video feeds and data streams. One of the soldiers looked up from his console and spoke to the visitors: "Hold on for a moment, sir. Specimen transfer."
Gant and Dr. Stacy stopped and waited as two men in white lab coats led a small procession out of one of the cell blocks and toward a large door marked "TO LABS" in stenciled letters.
That procession included two soldiers wearing body armor and helmets resembling riot gear. One held a catchpole on one of the animated corpses taken from the rubble of Dr. Waters's hidden research complex. As the group moved across the containment area's central room en route to the labs, the captured zombie turned its pasty-white eyes in the direction of the two visitors.
Stacy gasped. Thom shook his head.
The specimen on its way to dissection or experimentation or whatever curiosities the science team needed satiated was none other than former Secret Service Agent Frank Costa.
After a moment the group left the area through a sliding metal door.
"That doesn't seem right," she said.
He answered, "There is nothing right about any of this. But it is the reality we must live with." Gant considered and then added, "A friend of mine once told me that it is up to us to change that reality, if we can."
"Not exactly what I expected. The job, that is. I signed up thinking I would see the world, explore a whole bunch of neat mysteries, and maybe do some good along the way. Between what Waters and Monroe did and what I see down here, well, it looks like we're our own worst enemies. That the monsters I'm going to meet on this job come from us. People, I mean."
Major Gant turned and looked her straight in the eye.
"I cannot argue, Doctor. It is true, human beings can be the biggest monsters of them all. But if that is the only thing you learned from this mission, then you were not paying attention."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"Colonel Thunder pulled the strings at PACOM to get assets in theater; Franco and his unit found the freighter, which led them to us; and Campion brought an entire naval task force to pull our butts from the island."
"Teamwork — is that what you're getting at? The whole if-we-work-together-we-can-do-anything line? Usually you hold the pep rally before the game, Coach."
He smiled. Not that big, shark-like smile but something far more genuine.
"Actually, Doctor, we have a lot more games ahead of us. A lot more missions. If we're going to survive them, we will have to work as a team."
"Tell me something, Major. You talk about a team, but I'm wondering, are Albert Friez, the Pentagon, and all the brass in Washington part of our big happy family?"
Gant considered, rubbed his chin, and told her, "That is a good question. I think the answer may change from time to time. But I know one thing for sure. You are now a part of that team. Welcome aboard."
It seemed to him that her cheeks turned a shade red, and although she tried to hide it, a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
"Now let's get moving," he said and led her toward the next corridor, where aliens and monsters waited. "I have a lot more to show you."