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  “So once they go to ground, they have to stay a while if they want to get any work done?”

  “Yes, I would say so.”

  “How big is this stuff? You said before the incubator is the size of a refrigerator. What about the rest of the stuff?”

  “The computers can be a laptop. You don’t need huge amounts of computing power for this. The sequencers… two men could carry one. Not because it is large or heavy, but awkward to move. One guy could carry the analyzer unit and another could carry the input tray.”

  “What else would they need?”

  “To do this right, a SEM. That…”

  “What’s an SEM?” Ryker asks.

  “Scanning electron microscope. Viruses are too small to see with a regular optical microscope. And that is a big, heavy, hard-to-move piece of equipment. Very fragile. They don’t have one of those or it would still be in the room. They will also need the incubator to grow the viruses once they have it coded.

  "Let’s see… that’s about it for the major equipment. There are lots of little things—growth medium, gloves, goggles, stuff like that. But nothing hard to move. What they need most is a place to set up and stay. I’m sure that as fast as they broke down the lab, if you did just miss them by a couple of hours, all the work they have done to this point is probably lost and they will have to start over.”

  “So the key is to keep them on the run?”

  “If you want to make it difficult for them, yes. Keep them moving.”

  “Colonel? How much of that did you get?” Ryker asks.

  “Enough. I’ll let Langley know,” Hargraves says.

  Before Ryker can respond, a bullet splatters off the armored glass of the SUV with a loud crack, eliciting a brief shriek of frightful surprise from Ronnie.

  “Shit! We’re taking fire!” Ryker shouts, starting the SUV. He has no idea where the shooter is located and he has to get out of the parking garage while he still can. When the big V8 engine roars to life Ryker slams the car into gear while flooring the accelerator.

  “Buckle up and hang on!” he says as the truck lunges out of the parking space. They round the first corner but another car is blocking their exit. He slams on the brakes and before the SUV even stops moving he is in reverse, the SUV bellowing backwards as he looks over his shoulder.

  Ronnie is more terrified now than she has ever been in her life. This is like something out of a movie, and she is in the middle of it. Hanging onto the handle above the door with one hand, she holds the center console with the other and braces both feet hard against the floor while gritting her teeth.

  As Ryker roars backwards, away from the blocking car, another car is coming toward him but he keeps the throttle down, ramming the car with a metal shrieking jolt. He keeps the accelerator on the floor as the SUV thunders and strains, shoving the other car backwards. He stops, yanks the gear selector into drive, and once again floors the accelerator. The car doesn’t follow, mortally wounded by the collision.

  As the SUV strains under the acceleration he catches a glimpse of the first car racing with them in another lane until he skids around a corner and races down the end row toward the exit. Ronnie looks over her shoulder just as the car rams them from behind. The SUV shudders and swerves from the impact but stays on course.

  The car drops back, steam pouring from it after the impact, but then begins to gain on them again. Before the car can catch them the SUV skids around another corner and races for the sunlight and escape. Ryker looks in the side mirror to see the trailing Mercedes quickly closing on them. The car is pouring coolant from its smashed nose, but it is coming hard. He looks ahead again just in time to see a third car pull in to block his path.

  He brakes hard before plowing into the side of the blocking car, then floors the accelerator. The airbags deploy with a deafening bang, but he holds the accelerator down until the SUV jolts to a halt, pinning the car against the wall of the garage.

  Before he can react the SUV shudders again as the following car slams into the rear of them. Ryker jams the truck into reverse and again floors the accelerator. The SUV screams and begins to inexorably pull itself away from the pinned car, shoving the rear car backwards.

  As the SUV begins to pick up speed he sees movement in the car in front of him. Without lifting his foot from the accelerator he jerks the car into drive. With a bang and a roar the SUV lunges forward again, smashing into the pinned car again. Ryker throws the SUV into reverse once more and roars backward, crashing hard into the car at the rear, hopefully fatally disabling it.

  Once again Ryker yanks the transmission into drive and the SUV bolts forward, swerving around the pinned car and out the exit. The arm blocking the exit doesn’t lift, since Ryker didn’t pay, but the SUV snaps it off with its windshield as it bursts out onto the main street, colliding with another car. He slams the car into reverse again. With a groan the SUV hauls itself backwards away from the damaged car before he once again jerks the truck into drive. At first it doesn’t move as the motor screams, then with a bang it lurches forward and shudders off.

  “Colonel! We need immediate evac. We are proceeding…” Ryker glances at the digital compass in the rearview mirror. “... East on Independence. Are you okay?” he asks Ronnie. The car is leaking all manner of fluids and all the gauges and lights are warning its imminent failure. They will be lucky to make it five blocks before it dies. The bandit’s cars may be disabled but the men inside are not. They are not out of danger yet.

  Ronnie nods once, but her eyes tell a different story. ‘“Yes!” she finally gasps. She is shaken badly. “Who were those men?”

  “Don’t know. But definitely hostile.” The Suburban begins to knock heavily, losing power as it claws its way down the street, clearly unable to make it all the way back to the Embassy. “We have to ditch this rig. It’s dying.”

  “Evac on the way,” Hargraves says in Ryker’s ear. “State your location.”

  “Corner of…uh…Independence and—what the fuck is that, el Fal?” The Suburban keeps moving but the knocking and shuddering grow worse, until with a heavy bang and a thud it shuts off and begins to roll to a stop. “Get ready to run!” Ryker brakes to a stop and opens his door, abandoning the car where it sits. “Let’s move! Come on!”

  Ronnie struggles to open her door. It unlatches but it only opens a few inches, wedged shut from the collision with the cars. Ryker grabs the edge of the door and begins wrenching the door open as it pops and groans. The moment there is enough room for her to escape, he gabs her hand and pulls her through the opening. They begin to run down the street, ducking into the first large store they find. They hustle through the shoppers until they are more or less in the middle of the store.

  “Where’s my evac, Colonel?” Ryker snarls.

  “It’s on the way. Just hold tight. Are you still at the same location?”

  “We’re in a large grocery store near last stated location.”

  Hargraves is quite a moment. “They’re hauling ass, but you are on your own for at least ten minutes.”

  “Understood. Fuck! We’re on our own for a while. Come on,” Ryker says, dragging Ronnie along as he moves down the aisle to the end, then across the width of the store, stopping at the end of an aisle he can look down to see the entrance.

  Ryker thinks that just maybe they have gotten away when several men stride into the store. They don’t appear to be armed, but they don’t appear to be there for a weekly visit to the market either.

  “Colonel, where’s my evac?” Ryker asks in a whisper.

  It takes a moment, but then Hargraves answers. “Five minutes.”

  “Acknowledged. We have trouble. I’m going weapons-free.”

  “Evans! Do not fire unless fired upon!” Hargraves’ voice barks in his ear.

  “Understood,” Ryker says, pulling his weapon anyway but keeping it low and near his body, hiding it from view as much as he can. “Down to the end,” Ryker says, giving Ronnie a gentle push. “Wait! Ronnie! Her
e!” Ryker calls quietly, noticing two large swinging doors into the back of store. “This way!”

  They detour into the back of the store, slipping through the doors. “Colonel, we are in the stockroom of the store. Have your men come around the back to the loading dock.”

  “Two minutes,” Hargraves’ voice says.

  “To the door!” Ryker hisses, indicating the exit. “The embassy car is going to pull up right outside. When I say go, you run like hell! Got it?”

  They move to the door, Ryker standing with his back to the door, watching the swinging doors while Ronnie crouches in a corner near the door. He hears the roar of a large engine, then the shriek of tortured tires.

  “Go!” he barks, banging the door open with his back and stepping out with the swing of the door so she can dart past.

  As she passes he hears the big double doors open and one of the men is standing there. The man’s hand begins to move under his coat, pushing it open, allowing Ryker to see the holster.

  That’s all he needs to see before he squeezes off two rounds, the 9mm roaring in his hands, the two shots taking the man in the chest. As the man collapses he turns and leaps over the railing, landing in the street just as Ronnie is hustled into the back of the SUV by an armed man, Ryker right behind her.

  The doors aren’t even closed before the SUV is roaring away down the alley, bouncing through a hard turn as they enter the main road again in a blare of horns and shrieking tires.

  “Ronnie, are you alright? Are you injured?” Ryker asks. She is pale, staring straight ahead with wide eyes. She has a lump forming on the side of her head, probably from being thrown around in the SUV during their escape, but otherwise appears to be unharmed.

  “What?” Ronnie asks, slowly turning to face Ryker.

  “Are you hurt?”

  She touches her head, feeling the bump before answering. “No, I…” Ronnie begins before grinding to a halt, her face twisting up.

  “You’re safe now,” Ryker says, taking her into his arms, trying to comfort her as she begins to sob.

  “I was so afraid!”

  “I know. But you did good,” Ryker says as he holds her awkwardly, the tight confines the SUV making it difficult, softly stroking the back of her head. “But you’re safe now. Nothing to worry about. We’ll have the doctor look at your head when we get back the embassy.”

  Ronnie weeps a moment longer, then begins to try pulling herself together. She isn’t some waif afraid of her own shadow. With a gasp she reigns in her tears and sits up, pulling herself out of Ryker’s arms. “Why were they shooting at us?” she asks with a sniff, wiping at her eyes. She can feel herself trying to tear up again, but she forces them back.

  “They were shooting at me,” Ryker says. “That shot was intended for me, and if it weren’t for the bulletproof glass, I would be dead right now.”

  “But why?” Ronnie asks. “They had gotten away. We don’t have any idea where they are. Why try to kill us?”

  “They don’t know that,” Ryker says. “They are trying to cover their backs. They don’t know what we may have discovered in the room. One thing is certain: these guys are playing for keeps.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Petty Officer Evans, I gave you specific instruction to not fire unless fired upon!” Marine Colonel Hargraves snarls in his command voice. Ryker stands at rigid attention in Hargraves’ office as the Colonel seethes and fumes. “Do you have any idea of the mess you have created?”

  “Sir! Dr. Baker’s life was in danger! I did not fire until the assailant attempted to draw his weapon!” He has already been debriefed and now he is in the dressing down.

  “The fucking Lebanese are going ape shit! They have the fucking embassy car, for Christ’s sake! It doesn’t take a fucking genius to put two and two together!”

  Ryker says nothing. There is nothing to say. Technically he violated orders, but if he hadn’t he would be dead, at the very least, and possibly Dr. Baker as well.

  Hargraves fumes a bit longer, stomping around his office. “Fuck! At ease Evans,” he finally says. “Unofficially you did good. It was a tough spot and you handled it as well as can be expected. Ambassador Satterfield is trying to calm the Lebanese down, but you can bet your ass I’m going to get a full ration of shit over this. And your job just got a whole lot tougher. Now the Lebanese are going to be on us like stink on shit.”

  “Do they know I was the shooter?”

  “No. Not unless Satterfield rolls on you. But then you will be kicked out of the country so it won’t matter anyway.” Colonel Hargraves heaves a big sigh. “Now it is in the purview of the diplomats. God help us.” Hargraves pauses just a moment before issuing his final command. “Dismissed.”

  Ryker snaps from his parade rest to attention and fires off a crisp salute before pivoting on his toe and striding smartly from the room. As he exits the room the Marine guard stationed outside gives him a barely perceptible nod. Ryker smiles slightly and nods back, acknowledging the only show of support the Marine can give while on duty. As he rounds a corner he sees Ronnie standing in the hall.

  He approaches and she flows into him, hugging him. “Thank you. Thank you for saving me today.”

  Ryker smiles, taking her into his arms. Dr. Baker smells of strawberries, a scent that suits her. “United States Navy, at your service ma’am,” he says lightly.

  She holds him for several long seconds, enjoying the feel of him against her. She knows the reason she feels close to him right now is because he saved her ass, but that doesn’t make the feelings any less true. “Was it bad? The meeting with Hargraves? The ambassador’s secretary told me where you were,” she asks, backing off from the embrace.

  “I’ve had better,” Ryker says with a grin, turning her to walk with him. “Would you like to join me for dinner?”

  “What?”

  “I’m starving. I was wondering if you would like to join me in the mess for dinner.”

  Ronnie smiles slightly. “I didn’t realize it until you mentioned it just now, but I’m hungry too. So yes. Thank you for asking.”

  As they eat, their conversation light and free roaming, she notices once again that his tray is heavy on fruits and vegetables, light on meat. She points to his tray with her fork. “What are you, a vegetarian? I thought men like you ate meat. Raw.”

  “What do you mean, ‘men like me?’” Ryker asks with a grin.

  “You know, soldiers. Men’s men. That sort of thing. The kind of guys that smoke, drink hard, fuck hard, eat red meat raw, and wrestle bears with their bare hands.”

  Ryker snickers. “Not too many bears on a Navy ship.”

  “You know what I mean,” Ronnie says with a grin.

  “Too much red meat is bad for you,” he explains, nudging his chicken with his fork. “I eat meat, but I try not to eat too much of it.”

  She looks him over again. When she first met him she noticed his big arms and well-developed chest. But there is more to him than that. He’s just a damn good looking guy, period. He obviously takes great care of himself, so the fact he watches his diet should be no surprise. Ronnie tears her eyes away from him, looking at her tray again.

  “So tell me, Ryker… are you a SEAL?”

  “Why do you ask?” he asks nonchalantly.

  “Just curious. You said there are no bears on a Navy ship. But somehow I can’t see being able to drive like that being a required skill aboard a ship either.”

  Ryker grins to himself. Dr. Veronica Baker didn’t earn her Ph.D. on her looks, that much is certain. “Do you even know what a SEAL is?”

  “Err…no. Only what you read about or hear on the news.”

  “SEAL stands for Sea, Air, and Land. They are a group of men that conducts small unit operations from the coast or other waterways. As you can see, I’m not operating from waterways. Nor am I running an operation,” he states, intentionally giving only facts that will cause her to come to the wrong conclusion.

  “Operation?”


  “Technical term for BSU, or blowing shit up.” Ryker says, grin still in place.

  “You did pretty good today wrecking stuff,” Ronnie says, returning his smile. “So if you’re not a SEAL, then what are you? You’re more than a regular Navy guy. I think that much is clear.”

  “I’m a SAR specialist.”

  “SAR?”

  “Search and Rescue. I get in, find the good guy, and get him out. Think downed pilots in bandit country.”