To the right, set a bit back from the house, I could see the edge of a large wooden structure. A barn or stables. The area between the house and the structure was just a grassy field.
To the left of the house was a smaller, square building, like a shed or a guesthouse. Past that was a truck carrying a large blue shipping container, muddy track marks showing its path through the grass.
I followed the tracks back out to the narrow road. Two more trucks. These were even bigger. The container on the grass could hold maybe fifty scrabs, if they were tightly packed, but the ones on the street could easily hold at least a hundred. I snapped a quick picture, but it was very dark, the containers barely visible.
I pulled out my phone and texted Madison and Grayson.
There are three shipping containers here. I think they’re planning to ship scrabs by boat.
A reply came a moment later. Grayson wants to know if you can get a license plate number. And a description of the shipping containers.
No license plate. The containers are blue. It’s hard to see anything.
One of the trucks began moving, slowly rolling down the street.
One truck is leaving, I texted. Headed south on Dalten St.
Are the scrabs already loaded in that one?
I don’t know.
We’re sending UK team thirteen to follow it. The police should be on it as well.
I heard voices from behind me, and I scrambled to hide behind the van.
“Yeah, I’ll show you,” a voice said. “Come on.”
Footsteps headed away from me, and I peered around the side of the vehicle. I couldn’t see anyone.
I crept across the lawn, staying low to the ground. I realized as I rounded the corner of the house that there were actually four shipping containers. There was one sitting in the grass just past the large barn. Its doors were open, waiting to be loaded.
Two men walked toward the barn. I knew them both: Julian and Webb, the MDG guy who had kidnapped Edan and me in Paris.
They both had their backs to me, so I ran silently across the grass to the large barn. I stood at the corner of it, peering around at them. They were maybe twenty yards away, studying a small tablet in Webb’s hand.
“So SAC control is pretty basic,” Webb said to Julian. “You just—”
“Are we seriously calling them that?” Julian asked. “SACs?”
“Yes,” Webb sighed wearily. “They’re convinced people will warm up to them faster if we rename them.” He turned his attention back to the tablet. “Anyway. These are numbered, silent scrabs. You heard anything about them?”
Julian shook his head.
“Hey, let me get one out here!” Webb called into the barn. “Any one will work.”
A man emerged from the barn a moment later, a leashed scrab following behind him. It had a red 5 painted on its chest.
“You can drop him,” Webb said. The other man let go of the leash. The scrab remained motionless.
“The first thing you have to do is activate the number you want,” Webb said. “See this row of numbers on the side here?”
“Yeah,” Julian said.
“Press the number, and it activates the scrab. Watch.” Webb tapped the tablet. The scrab straightened and looked left and right. “You can activate a bunch at once and give them all the same command. These scrabs have a device in their ears that’s connected to the tablet, so you don’t need to shout a command, you just press the button on the tablet and the earpiece gives them the command.” He tapped the tablet, and the scrab galloped forward. He tapped again, and the scrab stopped.
“Wow,” Julian said.
“Good, right?” Webb said. “It’s how we’re working around their pack instincts. And these scrabs also understand hand signals, so you can point them in specific directions, or at specific people. Works well with the attack button, so you can sic them on certain people. Usually.”
“Usually?” Julian repeated.
“We still get a few that break off and do their own thing every now and then. Loud noises confuse them, get them all agitated. Something with the earpiece, I think. We’re working on it.” He pointed to the tablet. “But that’s what the red button is for. This big one at the top? It will shock all the scrabs that are currently activated. Should make them all stop what they’re doing.”
Julian said nothing. I couldn’t see the expression on his face, but it made Webb laugh. He clapped Julian on the shoulder.
“You’ll be fine. This whole shipment is high-level SACs, and you’ll have some other guys with you. I’m just going to show you how to control them in case of an emergency. Better safe than sorry, right?” He gestured for the man to take the scrab back into the barn.
“Yeah,” Julian muttered, taking out his phone.
“You know you can’t take pictures, right?”
I grabbed my phone from my pocket. I should have been taking pictures. I held up the phone and started recording.
“Why would I take pictures?” Julian’s tone was deeply annoyed.
“That squad of yours chronicles every single moment of their life. I can’t turn on the news without seeing one of their selfies.”
“I’m not taking selfies with the scrabs. I’m not an idiot.”
“All right, no need to get testy. Just keep in mind that your dad threatened to kill me if anyone gets proof of MDG’s involvement in this, and I think he was half serious. He’s a scary guy, your dad.”
Julian shrugged. “Are we almost ready?”
“Still loading.”
I ducked out of view, pressing Stop on the video. I switched to my messages and started a message to Grayson.
There are actually four containers, they’re still loa
“Clara?”
The voice made me jump. It was Julian, standing only a few yards away, and staring at
