advancing Russians began firing and bullets tore through the air, the ricochets turning the hallway into a killing floor.
“Fall back!” I shouted, pulling on Alpha Team members and shoving them down the hallway toward a set of exit doors. Bunny picked up one of the wounded and ran with him as lightly as if the soldier was a little child. Two other Alpha Team operatives grabbed the second. We had to leave the dead for now. Alpha Team looked hurt and angry. They didn’t want to leave Grace behind any more than I did, but there was no way we could hold this position.
We fired, we threw grenades, but we yielded ground yard by yard, letting ourselves be driven around the curving hallway until we could no longer see the hatch.
No bullets hit me, but as I backed around the corner I felt like I’d taken a fatal wound to the heart.
Grace.
Chapter One Hundred Fifteen
The Chamber of Myth
Tuesday, August 31, 2:23 A.M.
Time Remaining on the Extinction Clock: 33 hours, 37 minutes E.S.T.
Grace moved behind the rows of exotic plants, closing on the Jakobys in a wide circle. The artificial terrain was uneven, and at times she had to tuck her pistol into her belt in order to climb a rock or up and down a ravine. Mammals and birds scattered from her and at first Grace took no notice of them, but then a creature stepped briefly into her path that froze her heart and almost tore a cry of surprise from her lips. The creature had the twisted legs of a goat, a roughly manlike torso, black bat wings, spiked horns, and a grinning face that was out of ancient nightmares.
It was a gargoyle.
Grace stared, not knowing what to do. She forced herself to remember where she was. These people made monsters. This was just another perversion of transgenic science… but a wave of atavistic fear gripped her heart as the monster climbed onto a rock and stared down at her with bottomless black eyes.
Then, in the space of a few seconds, Grace’s perception changed. The gargoyle was three feet tall, and it moved with an awkward jerkiness of limb that looked clumsy and painful. As Grace moved slowly up the slope, the creature scuttled away, but it threw a single penetrating look at her before it disappeared under a fern. In that moment, though, Grace saw a human intelligence in the lustrous black eyes and a depth of horrified self-awareness that chilled her to the bone. In some grotesque way the transgenic animal was partly human, and that fragment of its mind was totally aware of its own wretched nature. Sadness crashed down on her as she stared after it. Then a moment later the sadness was overwhelmed by a burning fury as the enormity of this abomination of nature struck her. She set her jaw and drew her weapon and continued her hunt for the real monsters here in this chamber.
She tried to contact the TOC or Joe, but all she got from the earbud was a low-level buzz. A jammer. It must have kicked in when the building went on alert. Grace hoped that Church would realize what was happening and order the drop of the E-bomb.
Grace found a path that looked like it was used by the groundskeeping staff and she ran along this, circling closer and closer, trying to hear the conversation. Eventually she moved into a natural blind formed by the edge of a decorative waterfall and there she stopped. The waterfall was built over rock, but the back was clearly made from painted metal. She ran her hands along it and found the edges of a doorway fitted so snugly into the facade that it was virtually invisible. A door or an access panel of some kind. She filed it away for later.
Grace could see all six of the people in the room. She recognized the Jakoby Twins easily enough-tall, white as snow, and beautiful. The brute standing near them was one of the transgenic guards, though he was bigger than any of the others she’d seen. The two older men were strangers, but she felt that it was safe to guess that one of them was Cyrus Jakoby and the other possibly Otto Wirths. The last of the men there startled her and also made her feel like the earth was shifting under her feet.
If the photos Mr. Church had shown were correct, then this was Gunnar Haeckel.
Or Hans Brucker.
Both of whom were dead.
So… who was the tall man with the calculating expression? Another clone?
Clones, transgenics monsters, ethnic-specific pathogens.
She was surrounded by monsters.
Grace drew her pistol and leaned close to listen.
“-YOUR LITTLE MAGIC castle is about to come tumbling down,” said Cyrus Jakoby.
Hecate sneered. “You may find that more difficult than you imagine, Father. We’re not exactly vulnerable here.”
“Which is why we brought enough muscle to sweep past whatever defenses you have,” said Otto.
“Maybe,” said Paris. “And maybe your guns for hire are about to encounter a few surprises.”
“The teams know about your Berserkers. Ape DNA does not provide protection from armor-piercing rounds.”
Paris smiled. “No, but the Berserkers are not the only defenses we have. You’ll see.”
Otto gave a small shrug. “Yes, we’ll see.”
“What I want to know,” said Hecate, “is why you’re doing this. Why attack us at all?”
“Retribution, Miss Jakoby.
“The Hive? What the hell’s the ‘Hive’?” said Paris.
“In Costa Rica?” prompted Otto, but the Twins shook their heads.
Cyrus studied both of the Twins, checking body language and eye movement. He frowned. “You really didn’t attack the Hive,” he concluded.
“We still don’t know what it is.”
Cyrus didn’t elaborate. His expression, at first bemused, quickly darkened. “Then what happened to Eighty-two? Who hit the Hive? Who took him?”
“It had to be a military hit.” Otto frowned. “Question is… which government?”
“Could be Germany,” suggested Cyrus savagely. “Our former homeland would love to see our heads on pikes. Or it could be the Americans.”
“Then why didn’t they hit the Deck, too?”
Cyrus shook his head. “If the military took the Hive, then it’s possible that Eighty-two was killed along with the rest of the staff.”
“It would be better than being taken.” Otto’s voice said one thing, but his eyes conveyed a different message. All of the psychological profiles that had been done on Eighty-two had indicated that the boy did not have a predatory nature, that he lacked the strength to be a killer. It was so anomalous a finding that Cyrus had refused to accept it, had killed the testing doctors, had made Otto try over and over again to prove that Eighty-two was truly a part of the Family, that the boy’s loyalties were not a “given.” Now this belief could possibly be put to the test under interrogation by the United States. The boy could already have broken. Military forces could be closing in on the Deck even now.
Cyrus looked deeply hurt and it took him a moment to master his voice enough to speak. “We have to move up the timetable for the release.”
“The real question,” interrupted Hecate, “is why
“Only one of you.”
“Why?” she insisted.
“Call it a Darwinist experiment.”
“What… you’d use the murder of one to identify which of us had the greater survival instinct and then try to bargain with the survivor?”
Cyrus applauded. “You see, Otto? I always said that she was the smarter twin.”
