scenarios. As Cisco had done since dawn this morning. “Agreed.”
“I’ve accounted for the five researchers not on that shift. All have valid alibis, but can’t be undisputedly proven. It was dawn. They were sleeping.”
“And Dr. Hale?”
“Alive and secured. I’ll be questioning her soon.”
“She’s a valuable resource, Cisco. Her brain child garnered a billion dollar project funding.”
“I understand that, sir, but she is the only living witness.” Cisco pressed his advantage. “I’m aware the R & D team was working on Sarin countermeasures sir, but what type exactly?”
“You’re tasked with finding the terrorists and the vials,” was his boss’s answer.
“You’re tying my hands, sir. How can I hunt if I don’t know what to look for?”
The director made a frustrated sound. “It can’t be helped.”
“Then don’t expect miracles.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Yes, sir.” Shit. He needed more information to work this.
The director cut the call and Cisco did the same, tapping the heavy satellite phone against his knee before sliding the door open. He inclined his head and agents climbed in. “Wick, get the car.”
Wickum looked forlornly at the warm van, then hunched in his coat, and obeyed.
Cisco shut the door and stared at the men crowding the van.
“Get comfortable, no one leaves.” No one balked, either. “When CBC gives the go ahead, excavate. We need to get down there.” The Chemical Biohazard Control Unit would clear the air for toxins before anyone was close enough to be affected. Cisco silently deliberated, then spoke. “The Cradle was a working lab for Sarin gas countermeasures.”
Expressions changed, eyes widened.
“It’s a level five, no discussion without secure locations. We have whisper devices; they can, too. I want everyone to be suited up if they go near the entrances. There were vials of gas stored six hundred feet below. We don’t know if they got to them or what else they might have seized. We have to work from a clear objective.” He held up a finger. “One, they took the gas and will use it to blackmail the U.S. Two, everyone below is dead and possibly the research data destroyed or stolen. These attackers easily killed three hunters; they won’t hesitate in killing anyone else. I want to know where those shooters were positioned—today. Dr. Sydney Hale escaped unharmed, yet lost her ID tag. She says it’s on the mountain, so I want people searching the kill zones for it. If the wrong people find it, the wrong questions will surface. And worse case…we have an internal leak. It could very well be her. We treat her like one.”
Cisco’s narrowed gaze drilled each man. “At this point we can only speculate. We won’t know the truth till we get to the security tape linkage from the Cradle to Mother up and running. I want Hale, the entire R&D team, security forces, and the dead Marines researched thoroughly. Especially Hale. I want to know the last time she had a date, her hair cut, her favorite restaurant, everything. Hodges, you take the lead.”
Cisco slid open the door and climbed out, leaving Hodges to close it and address the men remaining inside. Wickum picked Cisco up in the sedan. The heat was blasting and Cisco sank into the leather seat and stuffed his feet right below the vent.
“To the safe house?”
“Yes. Take your time.” Cisco rubbed his face, then stared out at the beautiful scenery. Find the leak and it will lead us to the gas. He didn’t let himself think about the people who’d died today. Instead, he pulled Dr. Hale’s file from his briefcase. She was his only link and during the ride, he considered how he could use her.
When Sydney would normally be dropping face first into bed, she was wired, her nerve endings frayed. She couldn’t sleep, couldn’t even be still. She was damn tired of being left in the dark, too. If anyone should be kept abreast of what happened, it was her. She was project manager. Or, she had been—until her world went up in gunfire and smoke.
She moved around the cabin, hunting for something to take her mind off the attack. You’d think they’d stock a safe house with books or video games, but there wasn’t even a TV that she could find. She tossed out the burnt coffee dregs, started a fresh pot, then rooted in the cabinets.
“Anyone want a sandwich?” she called out. “Play poker?”
“No thank you ma’am,” came from around the house.
She found a bag of Bugles. She wasn’t hungry at all—a surprise since food was a vice for her—but stuffing her mouth was better than tearing into the agents. They had orders and were following them to the letter. Still, it ticked her off.
Radios crackled, men mumbled. Syd was walking the perimeter again, shoving corn horns into her mouth when a car pulled up. She moved to the window and was pushed back by an agent. She rolled up the bag, wiped her mouth and waited. It didn’t take long.
A tall, slender man entered from the side entrance with another, slightly shorter man following behind him. More men in black, she thought as the great room emptied except for the pair. Sydney folded her arms and regarded them.
“Cisco.” She’d met him once before when her handprint and retinal scan were registered.
He nodded, eyeing her too large clothes. “Dr. Hale. This is Agent Wickum.”
Sydney shook his hand. It was ice cold.
“Are you comfortable, Dr. Hale?” Wickum asked.
“Fine, peachy. What happened?”
Coming into the living area, Cisco removed his coat, turned it inside out and laid it over the back of a chair. Details like that told her he was meticulous and careful.
“That’s what we’re trying to ascertain, ma’am,” Wickum said politely.
Cisco just stared. It was unnerving.
“What about my project staff?”
His eyes went flat and Sydney felt the thread of hope snap. She sank onto the sofa and covered her face.
Over her head, Cisco and Wickum exchanged a glance.
“You were outside the Cradle when it was attacked, weren’t you, Dr. Hale?”
“Yes.” She looked up.
Cisco ignored her glossy eyes and asked, “Who knew about your absence?”
“Corporal Tanner, he’s the only one with the codes.”
“And he’s dead.”
She felt slapped. “Yes. He let me go topside often. I’m a little claustrophobic. I like air that’s fresh. Clears the mind.”
“What did you see, Dr. Hale?”
“Aboveground,
