“How many times do I have to tell you, that gun isn’t going to fire.”
She guessed it was a ruse, but the man sounded certain. “What do you mean it won’t fire?”
“It won’t fire because all of us use smart guns.”
The man was obviously one of the guards. Danielle had heard the term “smart gun” before, but for some reason it wasn’t registering.
“All of our firearms are equipped with RFID chips,” the man continued. “They won’t fire unless they’re being fired by the owner.” He nodded at her gun. “Go ahead. Give it a try.”
Danielle still thought the man was bluffing, but she needed to know for sure. Turning toward the wall, she pulled the trigger, but it didn’t move. She pulled again, this time harder. Once again, it didn’t work. He was right. There was no way to fire the gun.
“I’ve been following you,” the man said. “I watched you kill my best friend.”
“I’m sorry,” Danielle said. “I wasn’t trying to kill him.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not mad. The idiot had it coming. If he’d been paying attention, he’d still be alive.” The man stepped closer and lifted his own gun. “Now, be a good girl and toss that weapon aside. Then we can both go back and figure out just who you are.”
Having no choice but to comply, Danielle tossed the gun to the floor. When she looked up, she saw movement behind the man. More guards. It was over. Any hope of escape had vanished, just like that.
“That’s a good girl,” he said. “Keep following my orders and you’ll be just—”
A sharp thud echoed off the walls. The man wobbled for a moment then crumpled to the floor.
Confused, Danielle looked up to see two people standing just past where the man had fallen. The first was a woman with long dark hair. She held a long object that she had used to strike the man.
Scared, Danielle backed up against the door.
“Ciao,” the long-haired woman said as she stepped forward. “Don’t worry. I’m a friend.”
CHAPTER FIFTY
ZANE PAUSED IN the dark corridor. As he waited for his eyes to adjust, there was a flash in the distance. Someone in Brehmer’s group had turned on a phone light and was using it to illuminate their way through the building. Now it was going to serve as Zane’s beacon as well.
Wasting no time, Zane jogged toward the glow. When he was about twenty yards out, he slowed to a walk. He wanted to be close enough to keep them in sight while at the same time far enough back that he wouldn’t be heard.
Zane had reason to believe Brehmer and his men might connect him to Dr. Noah Lind and the other captives. Brehmer didn’t care if the man they called DH10 was killed — after all, they could eventually produce another one just like him. But he couldn’t afford to lose Lind. The famed doctor was indispensable, the only one who could correct the CRISPR flaws.
A loud bang sounded behind Zane. He stopped and turned around. It sounded like the door he had just come through minutes before, and now he heard footsteps. Is someone coming? He listened for a few more seconds but heard only silence.
He wanted to know who was behind him, but he also knew he needed to stay in sight of Brehmer and his men. Turning, he ran until he caught up with them again. Over the next few minutes, the group took a series of turns. On a couple of occasions, Zane thought he heard heavy footsteps behind him, but each time he stopped, the noise stopped as well. If someone was back there, they were doing everything they could to avoid detection.
Five minutes later, Brehmer’s group turned to the left through a door and shut it behind them. Zane crept up to the door, counted to ten, then opened it just enough to peek in. Seeing only darkness, he stepped inside. Once his eyes adjusted, he realized he was standing on a platform overlooking a cavernous space. From what little he could see, it was a warehouse or large loading bay. Stacks of crates, equipment, and boxes covered the floor below.
Suddenly, several flashlights lit up down on the floor. Brehmer and his men were winding their way through all the clutter. Careful not to make a sound, Zane descended the stairs and followed the glow of light. As he neared the men, he heard a familiar voice.
“You sure you can get the door open?” Brehmer asked in an irritated voice.
“Yes, sir,” another man said. “We have a manual generator I can hook up to one of the circuits. Once we have power, the door will roll right up.”
“Make it quick,” Brehmer said. “DH10 may have followed us. Remember, he can track using scent.”
“Do you really think he’s—”
“Were you not listening to what I said before?” Brehmer snapped. “He saw us leave. I saw his head turn in our direction.”
Zane’s chest tightened as he remembered hearing the steps behind him. He wondered whether it was DH10. He didn’t seem to be the stealthy type. Then again, if he was wired to be a predator, there was probably very little he couldn’t do.
As they came to the other side of the space, Brehmer’s men stopped at a large roll-up door. Zane guessed there was a loading dock just outside.
Looking around, Zane saw a forklift parked against the left-hand wall. Once he was sure no one was looking, he sprinted over and crouched behind it. One of Brehmer’s men turned and shined a light in his direction. Zane ducked as low as he could and waited. A few seconds later, the beam went away.
Rising slowly, Zane looked at Brehmer’s entourage. One of the men was tall and brooding. He looked like a slightly smaller version of DH10. Zane wondered if he, too, was a product of gene editing. But it wasn’t just the man’s size that caught Zane’s attention: his hand was covered with a black glove, and his arm was bent at an odd angle. Bionics. He was sure of it. Zane had seen the photograph of a man with the same apparatus during a briefing by DARPA, the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency. An arm of DOD, DARPA and its scientists were responsible for developing emergent technology, including bionic limbs.
Brehmer addressed a man with close-cropped blond hair. “Start working on that door.”
“Yes, sir.”
The guard slid a backpack off his shoulder and began to remove various pieces of equipment.
Brehmer turned to the other two men. “Where is the Jeep?”
A man with dark hair and a thick beard responded. “They should arrive at any moment.”
The man with the bionic hand remained silent. Zane couldn’t tell whether he was unable to speak or just preferred not to. If he couldn’t speak, perhaps that indicated another flaw in the editing process.
“Once I’m gone, I need the two of you to pick up Lind,” Brehmer continued. “We’ll rendezvous at the heli pad in forty minutes.”
It was just what Zane had hoped to hear. When they opened the door, he would follow the two men who were going to get Lind. To make it work, Zane needed to slip off and attempt to contact Pratt and his team. He would need their firepower.
As Zane prepared to stand, a loud noise carried in from the opposite side of the room. Brehmer and his men turned in the direction of the sound.
“What the hell was that?” Brehmer asked.
“It sounded like a door closing,” the bearded man said.
All four men stood in silence, but the noise didn’t repeat.
Brehmer gestured at the bearded man. “Go find out what it was.”
The man hesitated, clearly not thrilled about going out alone in the darkness.
“I said go,” Brehmer hissed.
The man realized it wasn’t a request. It was a command. Holding his pistol in one hand and a flashlight in the other, he walked off into the maze of crates. Zane couldn’t leave, at least for the moment. He would have to contact Pratt once they got out.