John aligned hisbody so it presented as small a target as possible as he moved with his leftshoulder ahead of his chin. He kept his gun raised, moving towards the sidemetal door pressed into the red brick of the warehouse. Above them, steelplates had been welded into place over a gap in the wall as a temporary fixtureagainst weather damage.
He could smellthe odor of water and damp. He could also smell something else. He frowned,taking another long whiff. Chemicals.
A slow trickleof excitement crept up his spine. The burn mark along his throat and down hischest began to itch. It often did when he found himself on the verge ofconflict. Some people said their hair would curl when rainstorms came. In John’scase, his burn would itch when heralding imminent violence.
He couldn’tresist the small smile tugging up his cheeks as he moved toward the metal door,and with his elbow, he lowered the handle, pushing the door with his shoulder.It didn’t move at first. Stuck.
He exerted anextra push—a quiet creak, and the door dislodged. It swung open, usheredforward by his body. He followed it in, using his shoulder while keeping a gripon his weapon, swinging his line of fire which revealed the area before him.
He could hearAdele moving behind him.
For a moment,caught there in the doorway, halfway in and half out, he considered theAmerican agent. He wasn’t sure what to think of her. The last time they’d met,things had been strange. Perhaps he had been avoiding her. He had jumped at thefirst case that arrived when he heard she was coming back.
John frowned, pushingthe door open even more. The first room was clear. No sign of adversaries.Small stone steps led up to an office building with glass windows.
He pointed withhis head toward the stairs, hoping Adele would understand the quiet message.And then he continued forward, keeping his gun braced, and moving toward therectangular stone pillars jutting up and holding the warehouse aloft.
Four doorsoccupied the back wall, two of them large, like barnyard doors. Footprintsscattered the dust everywhere. The smell of chemicals was even stronger now.
“They’re inhere,” he said quietly, his voice a ghost of a whisper.
Adele’s eyesflashed in the dark, and she nodded once. She moved along with him, also tryingto follow his posture, trying to remember her training. John knew amateurs whenhe saw them. And while the Adele was no amateur, she wasn’t comfortable withher weapon. This concerned him even more. She knew how to use her firearm,though, and there were few investigators as sharp as she was. He admired herfor it. She would follow the lead wherever it took them. Whatever the cost.
His browfurrowed. No, perhaps not whatever the cost. She had boundaries. Another thinghe admired about her. She was a woman of conviction. There weren’t many ofthose left.
For a briefhorrible, tantalizing moment, he thought of their swim back in the private poolon Robert’s estate. He thought of coming near her, breathing the smell ofchlorine on the air, but a faint, vague residue of her perfume still lingeringon the breeze. He remembered leaning in, trying to kiss her. He thought of theway she had recoiled, surprised. He wasn’t sure if she’d been horrified, orsimply stunned.
Did it reallymatter? Either way, she’d drawn back. Clearly she hadn’t wanted the attention.He’d misread the cues. She thought of him as a buffoon, a jester. Someone shedidn’t take seriously.
That was fine.What did John care anyway. Colleagues were just that, colleagues. Women werejust that, women. A source of companionship, perhaps. In the same way a sipfrom his distillery was a source of companionship. Forgettable, replaceable.
He nodded,trying to convince himself of thoughts he didn’t fully believe. The last timehe had a team, the last time he had any real friends, anyone he was close to…
John shook hishead, forcing his mind away from the desert, the chopper blades in the air, theshouting, the gunfire.
No, this wouldn’tbe like that time. He would make sure Adele lived. If he had to die for her tosurvive, that would be a fair trade. He’d experienced the alternative before,and it was no way to live.
John continuedto move forward, pressing toward the double doors that served to occupy thecenter of the warehouse wall.
He didn’t lookback at Adele this time. Distractions now would prove fatal. Distractions wouldcost them. He would have to trust her to pull her weight.
John moved footover foot, stepping with movements more rehearsed than those of any ballerina.He noticed a glimmer of light, a blue sliver through the crack in the door. Henodding his head, to see if Adele had also noticed.
She returned thenod. Together, they eased against the door, pressing their shoulders andputting their eyes against the slit.
John peered intothe room and gritted his teeth.
A familiar sceneof horror.
He could feelAdele next to him, tensing. She held her breath and took a couple of stepsback, weapon raised, body tensed as if preparing to surge forward and kick thedoor in.
John held out ahand, halting her, then returned his guiding hand back to his weapon. He shookhis head. And held up a finger against his gun. Wait.
***
Adele breathed,but it was a difficult chore. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest,and she continued to stare at the crack in the door, witnessing the horriblescene within.
A single, brightblue light from an umbrella fixture stared down at an operating table in thedank, dusty warehouse. There were two IV bags, one filled with clear liquid,bubbling, the other with a strange brownish-red substance. There was a heartrate machine, with blue and green lights zipping across the digital face. Fourmen stood around the operating table. Two of them had guns, which they heldagainst their hips, waiting impatiently. The other two men wore white masks andthe blue-green outfits of operating surgeons.
Adele heardquiet murmuring from within. She wanted to burst in, but John was still holdingup his hand, the finger resting against his gun, telling her to wait.
Adele watched asone of the men leaned over the body on the table. The doctor had a scalpel inhis hand. He was murmuring quietly, and Adele realized
