Medusa (NUMA Files 8)

“My right arm is feeling a little useless right now, but the blood isn’t mine. On the way here, I stopped in a room with a big round tank. A guy jumped me, and we were waltzing around when some of the smaller tanks in the room broke and spilled their insides all over the floor.”

“The small tanks contained organisms in various stages of mutation,” Mitchell said. “You’re lucky the big tank didn’t break. Those creatures were the final mutant phase, the one used to make the vaccine. Each tentacle contains thousands of nematocysts, tiny harpoons that inject the toxin into prey.”

“My apologies for the damage, but it couldn’t be helped,” Austin said. He introduced himself to Lois Mitchell. “When I saw you from outside the dome, I thought that only Joe Zavala could find a lovely woman at the bottom of the ocean.”

Her eyes widened.

“That was you I saw?”

Austin nodded.

“I was watching you and Joe and got careless.”

He turned to Phelps.

“From the conversation I overheard a few minutes ago, it sounds like you’ve come over from the Dark Side.”

“That video nailed it for me,” Phelps said. “Joe seems to be okay with the deal.”

Austin didn’t have time to subject Phelps to a lie-detector test. He glanced at Zavala, who gave him a nod, then came back to Phelps.

“Welcome aboard, soldier,” Austin said. “What’s our status?”

“Chang is on his way to the lab to pick up the vaccine,” Phelps said.

“He’ll be here any minute,” Mitchell added.

“That’s good,” Austin said unexpectedly. “Chang and the people responsible for the scenes on that video are walking dead.”

Unexpectedly, Lois began to sob.

“I’m one of those people,” she said. “I collaborated on the vaccine work.”

“You can’t beat yourself up, Dr. Mitchell,” Austin said, trying to cushion the force of his words. “You were forced to work on the vaccine. You and the other scientists would have been killed if you hadn’t.”

“I know that,” she said. “But I went overboard to make sure the project was a success. It was as if I were trying to show them we could meet the challenge.”

“Rock and a hard place,” Phelps said. “Now that the vaccine’s a fact, they won’t need the staff or the lab. Joe and I have come up with a plan to get everyone off the Locker.”

Austin didn’t answer right away. He squinted through the dome where he had seen a flicker of light. Recalling the high visibility of the globe’s interior to outside eyes, Austin hit the light switch, throwing the office into darkness.

“Your plan had better be a good one,” Austin said. “Look.”

All eyes turned to see the shuttle carrying Chang and Dr. Wu as it descended toward the lab like a star falling in slow motion.

CHAPTER 44

MINUTES LATER, THE SHUTTLE SETTLED ON THE LANDING pad and the open roof over it closed again like two halves of a clamshell. Powerful pumps kicked into action and rapidly cleared the airlock of water, but Chang nonetheless was seething with impatience. He finally burst from the shuttle like a moray eel springing from its den and slogged toward the exit door as the last few inches of water gurgled down the drains. The weasel-faced Dr. Wu followed a couple of paces behind.

When the door to the airlock hissed open, Phelps was standing in the adjacent chamber next to the control console. He stepped up to Chang and greeted him with a lopsided grin.

“You got here fast, boss. Musta put the pedal to the metal.”

Chang stared at Phelps with barely concealed contempt. American jargon was lost on him, and it annoyed him when Phelps used it. He had never fully trusted Phelps and suspected his loyalty extended only to the next paycheck.

“Enough talk!” Chang snarled. “Where is the vaccine?”

“Dr. Mitchell has it,” Phelps said. “She’s been waiting in the mess hall for you to arrive. The NUMA guy is with her.”