Zane looked over at the Southerner, who was sitting on his right. “Let me guess, a Georgia blonde who likes country music, NASCAR, and bass fishing?”
Pratt lifted a brow. “I hadn’t thought about that. You know, I may just have to change my answer!”
“Now you have me curious,” Danielle said. “So what exactly would have made the evening even better than it already is?”
“A big pan of my mom’s banana pudding.”
“I should’ve known.” Zane smiled.
“Hey, I can make a pretty decent batch of ’nana pudding,” Amanda said.
“Cold or hot?” Pratt asked.
“Cold.”
Pratt shook his head. “That’s not banana pudding.”
“So basically, you’re a pudding snob?” Mortensen asked through the smoke of his cigar.
“Just stating facts, my man. In order to be true banana pudding, it must be hot, and it must have a nice fluffy layer of meringue on top. Oh, and the meringue must be baked until it has that perfect coating of brown. No brown, and you might as well dump it in the trash.”
“Say what you will, but I like it cold with whipped cream,” Skinner said.
“Blasphemy,” Pratt said.
“In light of what happened two nights ago, maybe you should lay off all that rich Southern cooking,” Zane said with a wink.
Pratt frowned. “And what, pray tell, are you talking about?”
“You eat healthier, and perhaps our Chinese friend doesn’t get the better of you out there in the jungle.”
“One would think that’s a topic you wouldn’t want to bring up.” Pratt shook his head. “Despite being out in a dark jungle, I never lost her. On the other hand, I seem to remember someone else was given the slip in Lugano.”
After a moment’s reflection, Zane held up his bourbon glass. “Touché!”
“I never got to hear about your adventure,” Danielle said. “What happened?”
Pratt gave her a brief overview of the chase through the woods, as well as the woman’s daring escape up the rope ladder.
“So they launched a helicopter from Terre-de-Haut?” Danielle asked. “That seems awfully bold.”
Zane shook his head. “No, we believe the bird came from a small cargo ship that was waiting just offshore.”
Danielle frowned. “A cargo ship?”
“Let me rephrase that,” Zane said. “It was a Chinese military ship posing as a cargo ship.”
“Do we believe it’s a problem that she got away?” Amanda asked.
“As much as I hate to admit it, I think there’s a good chance she got what she came for,” Pratt said.
Amanda lifted a brow. “Why is that?”
“Because when I spotted her leaving the compound, she didn’t seem to be in any danger. It seemed clear that she had what she wanted and was getting the hell out of Dodge.”
“So we know what she got?” Danielle asked.
“It looks like she downloaded some data,” Zane replied. “The French authorities told me one of the servers had been shot up. She probably retrieved all of the files detailing Brehmer’s research.”
Danielle frowned. “Should we be worried?”
“I spoke to Dr. Lind, and he said we shouldn’t be overly concerned,” Zane said. “Obviously, a lot of it depends on what she managed to take. Lind said that even if she got every piece of research material out there, then the Chinese may still struggle to piece it all together. Brehmer had been working on human editing for years, and even he couldn’t quite perfect the technology. That’s why he kidnapped Lind.”
“Of course, it’s never a good thing for that kind of information to get into the wrong hands,” Carmen noted.
Zane nodded. “Correct. The CIA and NSA are going to take it from here. Let’s hope and pray they don’t start another monster mill.”
“So what happened to Jonas Brehmer?” Danielle asked.
Zane looked at her. “He’s in Paris facing a wide assortment of charges.”
“The man deserves everything he has coming,” Carmen said. “Think of all the lives he destroyed.”
“Speaking of Brehmer and his work, did we ever get a definitive answer about who those men were who were wandering around in the jungle?” Amanda asked.
Zane took a sip of bourbon. “Discarded experiments.”
Amanda shook her head. “Sickening.”
“It was a game of trial and error,” Zane said. “At times, the gene editing failed miserably, and when it did, Brehmer just dumped the subjects out into the woods.”
“Why didn’t he just kill them?” Danielle asked.
“Oh, I’m sure he did kill quite a few. But I think he saw value in releasing the ones that were reasonably healthy.” Zane took a sip of bourbon before continuing. “First of all, they served as a free security perimeter. Nosy tourists aren’t a problem when you have what amounts to killer zombies roaming around. But I think there was an even more important reason he had some released. The French authorities told me they found dozens of cameras affixed to trees, as well as a fleet of several hundred tiny drones. That tells me Brehmer was watching them very closely.”
Carmen frowned. “Why? What’s the use?”
“Easy. It allowed them to see what was working and what wasn’t. They could watch them hunt prey and interact with one another. They could see what the editing had accomplished and what the editing had failed to do.”
Carmen was about to respond when her phone flared on the small table next to her chair. She picked it up and looked at the screen. “The Oracle.”
Zane frowned, unsure why Ross hadn’t called him instead. “I guess he’s tired of talking to me.”
“Well, let’s hope he’s going to tell us we have another week down here.” Carmen engaged the call. “What’s up, Boss?” She listened for about a minute, then her smile morphed into a look of concern. “I see.” She stood and walked inside the house before pulling the sliding glass door shut behind her.
Pratt looked at Zane. “Wonder what that’s all about?”
Zane finished the rest of his bourbon before answering. “I guess it’s something for her ears only.”
Pratt picked up his phone and tapped on the screen. Seconds later, he looked at Zane. “Um, check your phone. I just tried to call you, and it didn’t go through.”
Zane pulled it out of his pocket then shook his head. Determined to enjoy their meal without interruption, he had turned it off several hours ago. He looked at Pratt. “Oh well, maybe Carmen was meant to take the call.”
For the next several minutes, silence fell over the group. Danielle seemed worried. She was probably concerned that the call related to her brother, although Zane was reasonably certain that wasn’t why Ross had called. If David Holland’s condition had worsened, the hospital would’ve contacted Danielle first. They probably didn’t even have Ross’s contact information.
As Zane considered whether he should try to comfort Danielle, the sliding glass door opened. After stepping outside, Carmen returned to her chair and picked up her wineglass. Both concern and fear were written on her face.
“So are you going to tell us what he said, or are you going to make us sit here and guess?” Mortensen asked.
Carmen blew air out through pursed lips. “Sorry. The news just shook me up a bit.”
Mortensen appeared about to say something else, but Zane held up a hand. He wanted Carmen to have all the time she needed to form her thoughts. Perhaps it was something she couldn’t share with the entire group.
Finally, Carmen looked over at Zane. “He had some bad news… really bad news.”
Zane wondered what could possibly be that bad. Maybe David Holland had taken a turn for the worse. If that was the case, then Carmen needed to take Danielle inside and tell her in private.