Chapter Eight
Tony emerged from the tree line and stopped next to the house that Melvin had given him directions to.
“Are you certain this is the place?” Vaulcron asked, coming up behind him.
“It’s the address Melvin gave me. Stay close.”
Keeping low, Tony ran along the side, looking in windows as he went.
Satisfied that the house was unoccupied, he slipped inside with Naura’s brother tight on his heels.
Tony turned to peer at Vaulcron. “There is a military-issued vehicle in the garage that we’re going to take to the lab. You will have to hide in the back, out of sight, while I drive.”
Vaulcron raised an eyebrow. “Will you not be recognized?”
Tony pulled a photo ID from his pocket and clipped it to his shirt. “As of today, I am Master Sergeant Mike Farlow.”
“The hair color is the same, but that is where the similarities end.”
“I’ll handle that,” Tony assured him. “Do a perimeter check while I take care of my appearance.”
With a nod, Vaulcron strode off toward the back of the house.
Tony entered the master bathroom and opened the top drawer next to the sink. He pulled out clippers, razors, and a pair of scissors before going to work on his overgrown hair.
He couldn’t recall the last time he’d had a haircut, not to mention a shave. His beard had been with him since the day he’d lost his family.
Running a finger lightly over the scar that ran the length of his cheek, he noticed his hand shook slightly. Screams echoed through his mind in a nightmare of pain he was suddenly powerless to stop.
His stomach heaved with the memory of his wife’s pleading voice, his son’s tormented cry only moments before a blade sliced through Tony’s face.
He held his hands up and stared at the scars embedded into his wrists. It had taken him two days to free himself of the wire bonds he’d been restrained with.
A wail threatened to emerge, so great was his grief. After all the years since his wife’s and son’s deaths, the pain had never subsided. He relived it every time he closed his eyes.
With a snarl of helpless rage, Tony took a deep breath and shut down his thoughts. Jerking up the clippers, he went to work on his hair.
* * * *
Half an hour later, Tony emerged from the bathroom and went in search of Vaulcron. He didn’t have far to look.
The big Bracadyte was on his knees in front of the television like a kid glued to his favorite cartoon show.
Tony stopped next to him. “We need to go.”
Vaulcron nodded but didn’t move. “I have never seen a more beautiful female in all my life.”
“The reporter?” Tony questioned, glancing at the television screen.
“Yes. She is captivating.”
Tony shook his head in disgust. “That’s Mallory Cahill. Better known as the Great White.”
“Why is she named after a shark?”
“I’ll tell you later when we have more time. And trust me when I say that she has earned the name. She is vicious and can’t be trusted.”
Vaulcron stood in one fluid motion. Shock appeared on his face as he gazed at Tony in stunned disbelief. “You no longer resemble the man I came here with.”
“Yes, well that was the point. Hopefully I’ll pass as Mike Farlow and not get us both killed.”
Tony led the way to the garage and opened the back hatch of the vehicle for Vaulcron to slip inside. Tony tossed a few blankets over the Bracadyte, shut the door, and slid behind the wheel.
“It’s about a twenty-minute drive to the lab from here,” Tony stated as he pressed the garage door opener and waited for it to lift. “Stay down, and no matter what happens, do not come out until it is clear to do so. Our only hope is they don’t demand a vehicle search.”
“Do not worry about me. I know what to do,” came the muffled response from beneath the blankets.
Tony backed out of the garage and pulled onto the main road. His stomach knotted with every turn he made, half expecting to be ambushed, but the drive went surprisingly smooth.
His heart hammered at the signs of a roadblock ahead. He unsnapped the holster at his side and slid his gun free, resting it next to his thigh.
A young soldier stepped up next to the vehicle as Tony gently pressed his foot on the brake and came to a stop.
Tony rolled down his window and held up his ID before glancing at the guy’s rank on his nametag.
“Private,” Tony acknowledged with a nod.
“Master Sergeant.” The guy gave a salute before backing up and allowing him to pass. Tony didn’t exhale until he glanced in his rearview mirror and saw the private checking another car.
“We made it through the checkpoint,” Tony called loud enough for Vaulcron to hear. “I’m nearing the lab now. It’s an in-and-out mission, one that I’ll get done as quickly as possible.”
Tony pulled into the parking lot of Winchester Industries and got out, careful to keep his steps sure and confident.
He pressed the intercom button next to the main door.
“Can I help you?” a voice questioned from the small black box.
“I’m here to see Doctor Sutherland.”
“ID please?”
Tony lifted the badge that hung from his shirt and held it up to the camera resting above the intercom.
A click sounded, telling him the locks had disengaged. He opened the door, stepped inside, and came face to face with Willie.
Tony stilled, waiting for the guard to sound the alarm.
“Doctor Sutherland is on the second floor, Mr. Farlow. You can go right on up.”
“I appreciate it,” Tony murmured, relieved that Willie hadn’t recognized him.
It had only been a little over a year ago since Tony and Hauke had stormed the lab, injuring the ones that drew on them and turning rabid patients loose for a diversion.
Tony climbed into the elevator, not relaxing until the door slid shut with a ding.
He arrived at the second floor a moment later and strode down the hall toward Henry’s lab to find the door standing open and Abbie’s father sitting behind his desk.
Tony quietly entered and eased the door closed behind him. “Doctor Sutherland.”
Henry looked up from the paper he held and adjusted his glasses. “Yes?”
“Are you alone?” Tony questioned, moving deeper into the room.
The older man stood. “Why do you ask?”
“Answer the question.”
“Yes. I’m alone.”
“I’m here to get you out,” Tony informed Henry as he stopped in front of the giant oak desk.
Tony saw the instant that recognition dawned.
“Anthony?” Henry breathed, his eyes huge in his face.
“Keep it down. No one knows that I’m here.”
“What are you doing here? They’ll kill you without question if you’re seen.”
Tony rested his palms on the desk and leaned in close. “I’ve come to take you to your daughter.”
Henry paled, and tears gathered in his eyes. “Abbie is alive?”
“Very much alive, which is more than I can say for you if you don’t come with me now.”
“But I can’t leave yet. Not when I’m so close to proving the virus’s origin. The CDC—”
“Is responsible for the Incola virus. We know,” Tony interrupted. “Now, let’s go. We are running out of time.”
Henry took a step back. “I can’t. I’ve been ordered to go to Fort Walton Beach.”
“What for?”
“Because they have two of those gulf dwellers at Eglin Air Force Base, and they need an epidemiologist at their disposal to study them.”
“What?” Tony growled, his muscles tensing as he fought the urge to choke his dead sister’s husband. “How long have they been in possession of the Bracadytes? Are they still alive?”
Henry dropped into his chair. “I don’t have the answer to either question.”
“You better figure it out and quickly before Abbie gets wind of it. The last thing either of us want is your hotheaded daughter getting herself killed trying to save a couple of Bracadyte prisoners.”
“You can’t tell her, Tony. Please. Promise me that you won’t tell her.”
“For now,” Tony conceded, fishing a cell from his pants pocket and tossing it to the older man. “Hide that one better than you did the last one.”
“But—”
“I’ll be in touch.”