Penumbra (Spook Squad 3)

Gabriel watched a scientist measure some clear liquid into a vial. “I suppose so. Why?”

Illie’s frown deepened. “Because I’m not getting any readings from them. It’s as if they’re emotionally nonexistent.”

“Might distance be a factor? The walls look fairly thick here in the labs.”

Illie shook his head. “It shouldn’t matter when I’m this close.”

“Maybe the labs are psi nullified?”

“Then I wouldn’t be able to read you, would I? Or the guard.”

True. So what was going on? “Can you feel anything else about them? Anything odd?”

Illie hesitated, his expression thoughtful. “No, but look at them. It’s almost like they’re on automatic—as if they’re doing nothing more than following a set list of instructions.”

“Which they could well be if they’re perform

ing a specific experiment.” Even so, as Gabriel stared at the five men, he couldn’t help noticing that they all seemed to be doing the exact same thing.

“I know,” Illie muttered. “But it just doesn’t feel right. They don’t feel right.”

The guard stopped and punched several numbers on a keypad to the right of a doorway. The door slid open.

“This is the lab, gentlemen. I’ll be out here if you need anything.”

Illie stepped past the guard and Gabriel followed. The lab was narrow but long, all white walls and gleaming metal benches. The far end was lined with a map and upright cabinets, and nearby were several tables strewn with papers and folders—none of which had been so much as scorched. The only things that had been burned were two cabinets to the far right of the tables, and these were little more than melted blobs. A fire fierce enough to do that should have destroyed the rest of the lab, let alone the nearby cabinets and scattered paperwork. But they weren’t even scorched.

“None of this makes sense.” Illie walked down the aisle between the rows of tables, his footsteps echoing in the cold silence. “If our thieves could get into this lab unseen, why just destroy only a couple of cabinets? Why not destroy the lot?”

“Maybe they wanted to destroy something very specific.”

“Maybe.” Illie stopped beside one of the tables. “Yet the alarms went off the minute the fire was set, so how the hell did they escape? I get the feeling there’s only one entrance to this place.”

“One entrance, but perhaps more than one exit.” Gabriel bent to study the melted remains of what looked like a lock—probably from one of the cabinets. It appeared to have been made of tungsten metal, which was yet another pointer as to how hot the fire had been. And that had to mean it was no ordinary fire.

“I’ll tell you one thing—some of these projects weren’t new, if these plans are anything to go by.”

Gabriel glanced up. Illie leaned against the table, studying the papers strewn there. “Why do you say that?”

“Simple; they’re dated. These plans are over two years old.”

“Check the other cabinets.” Gabriel rose and walked over to the second melted cabinet. There wasn’t even anything that looked like a lock on this one; it was just one huge congealed mass of different metals. He glanced at the untouched cabinets; the gauge of steel used in them and the thickness of the doors suggested they were fireproofed, and he had no doubt these ones would have been as well. But what type of fire could so utterly destroy fireproofed cabinets in a matter of minutes? As far as he knew, not even firestarters were capable of creating a burn so fierce and hot in such a short space of time.

“The end cabinet has more recent projects,” Illie said into the silence.

The end cabinet was one of the few that hadn’t been ransacked. “Maybe our thief was working his way through the plans. Maybe he wanted the complete set of plans, past and present.”

“Good theory, except there are no plans for light or matter transmitters in this lot.”

“Then the thieves might have taken them.”

“If theft had been their goal, they could have gotten in and out without anyone being aware. So why set the fire? It makes no sense.”

“It does if they specifically wanted the destruction to be noted. Maybe it was some kind of message.” But what was it about the light-and-matter project they’d destroyed that they’d wanted to make such a point about? It was a question only Douglass could answer—and one he suspected she wouldn’t. “Anything else of interest in the cabinets?”

“A lot of projects marked unviable.” Illie slammed the cabinet door shut. “I’m getting a bad feeling about this.”

Gabriel had passed the bad feeling point a while ago. Now it was more of a sick certainty that something bad was about to happen. “Let’s head back upstairs and view the tapes. Then we’ll go interview the security personnel from last night.”