main road. She doused the lights, drove into the brush, and killed the engine. Christian flipped the switch for the interior lights so they wouldn't go on when the doors opened and jack with their adapting night vision. While he did, Jasmine reached into the backseat and pulled out her backpack. She unzipped a pocket and retrieved a small plastic bottle. When she opened the cap, the smell of it hit his nose in the tight quarters of the Fiat. Bug juice. The woman thought of everything.
'Put this on. You'll need it.' She slathered it onto her face and exposed skin.
'I love the smell of DEET in the morning,' he teased, doing his best Robert Duvall impersonation from
Once outside the car, they shut the doors, careful not to make a sound. Mosquitoes bombarded him in a thick swarm, but the bug juice kept most of them away.
'Stick to the treeline. Follow me.' Jasmine gestured and led the way, shrugging into her backpack.
She traversed a gully, digging in her heels and leaning into the hill to keep her balance. Jasmine cut a path diagonally, then back down, heading for the valley floor. Christian followed, keeping the security
floodlights of the lab in his sights through the dense trees, an orientation point. In the dark, tree limbs and shrubs slapped his pant legs and arms. He couldn't avoid them. But as they crept closer, the sounds of the night muffled to deathlike stillness. Any noise they made drew attention from the nocturnal wildlife. He sensed their eyes on him, quietly watching.
Eventually the terrain leveled and Christian became aware of water nearby, a convergence of several tributaries. The swirling water captured the moonlight on its surface, giving shape and size to the streams. Jasmine headed for the water and veered left to follow its confluence. Heavy brush grabbed at his boots.
Suddenly, a shrill cry ripped through the night. Pitiful and agonizing. Then it stopped . . . dead. Thrashing of water followed. In a swell, other animals screeched and yowled, rippling through the hillside.
The sound sent adrenaline coursing through Christian's blood as he dropped to a knee. A primal reaction. He peered through murky shadows toward the noise. Caught in the bluish haze of night, a large caiman surged down the creek. A distant relation to the crocodile, the creature undulated beneath the surface of the water, dragging its prey from the bank. In seconds it was over.
In this place, death came silent and in the blink of an eye.
Jasmine knelt by his side and waited for the quiet to return. 'Let's go,' she whispered.
Being in a valley west of the lab gave them cover from the security lights that strafed the night sky, but the refuge wouldn't last long. They angled toward the side entrance to the lab's med clinic and clamored up a small hill on all fours, staying low. Halfway up, he and Jasmine stopped to listen.
Dense humidity and the close vegetation intensified the heat. Every scratch and cut on his body ached, inflamed. And to exacerbate the condition, his clothes clung to his skin, damp from perspiration. Sweat trailed from his forehead down the side of his face. More trickled down the small of his back. When he wiped the back of his hand across his face and mouth, he got a serious taste of bug repellent. Nasty stuff.
Satisfied they were alone, Jasmine pressed ahead. 'Last push, slow and easy.'
At the crest of a hill, she scrambled into a thicket and slipped out of her pack. Christian knew the woman came prepared for a small skirmish, but mostly he wanted the water she carried in her pouch.
After she tossed him a bottle, he downed a large swig, cooling his throat. Jasmine quenched her thirst with another one, then retrieved night vision binoculars and shifted her focus to the west entrance of the heavily guarded facility. She assessed the situation.
'Two men at the gate. Armed,' Jasmine muttered. She passed the binoculars to him for a look. 'More walking the grounds inside. Hard to tell how many.'
Christian rolled onto his belly and checked out the layout for himself.
'We could be in for a long night.' He knew this would be a long shot. But after today's tour, something didn't feel right about this place. He trusted his instincts.
An hour stretched into two. And Christian's headache had returned with a vengeance. After sweating away the bug repellent, they applied more. Just when Christian thought their efforts would be a lost cause, Jasmine punched him in the arm.
'We got company.'
Headlights along the ridge flickered between the trees. The sound of a car approaching carried through the night. It turned into the main entrance to Genotech and made the switchbacks, heading into the valley. Dust kicked up in its red taillights.
On cue, the guards looked like they expected company. They raised their weapons and stood aside as the gate slowly opened. Obviously, they waited for someone they knew. Dressed in a white lab coat, Dr. Phillips joined them and paced, looking at his watch. A familiar gesture.
'He's working late,' Christian whispered, binoculars up. 'No rest for the wicked.'
A dark sedan pulled into the light and stopped at the guard station. From the shadows in the vehicle, Christian saw more than one man, but not much else. Phillips leaned down to speak to the driver. The doctor gestured for him to pull ahead. After the car parked, two men in suits got out of the front seat. Christian caught a glimmer off the belt of one of the men when his suit coat opened. A badge reflected the light. The men were . . .
'Cops,' Jasmine said as if she invented a new curse word. 'I can smell them from here.' She didn't have his clear-cut view, but there was nothing wrong with her senses.
Christian couldn't imagine why they were at the lab, yet something unfathomable gripped his throat. He held his breath, waiting.
Two men in handcuffs and disheveled clothes were hauled from the backseat. They stumbled and had trouble walking a straight line. Homeless vagrants. They were either inebriated or stoned on something far worse than alcohol. Christian took in the scene, peering through the night vision gear, his jaw tight.
'What's this all about?' Jasmine whispered as she reached for the binoculars again. 'Are they doing what I think they're doing?'
'Yeah, I'd say Doc Phillips just got two more volunteers for his genetics research.' He furrowed his brow. 'Those two don't look like amateur drinkers either. Addicts fresh off the street.'
But a bigger question lurked in the back of his mind. With cops handing over the unsuspecting men to Genotech as lab rats, who had given the order— Captain Duarte or Chief Zharan? All the hope Christian had for progress in his father's case suddenly got sucked away in a cruel twist.
Who would he trust now?
There was cruelty in silence, and isolation made it worse. Jasmine knew this firsthand.
Once they walked back to the hotel after ditching the 'borrowed' Fiat, Christian withdrew into himself and ignored her attempts at conversation, which were few and far between on a good day. He tried to call his lover, but had no luck. His woman had cut him off from what little comfort she could bring long distance. On top of what they witnessed at Genotech Labs, he didn't need this personal blow. His frame of mind changed. He'd grown sullen and moody, not entirely his style.
Jasmine suspected that Christian's detective was not happy about the way he left the States, with another woman. And she had chosen to punish him in the worst way possible. Watching his pain only reminded her of words unsaid between her and Nicky.
A Kevlar vest gave protection from a bullet, but no such invention existed to safeguard the heart.
