Devil's Gold (34 page)

Cassidy felt the earth give way and reached her arms out to find something to stop her fall. They gripped nothing but air. She fell downward, landing with a jaw-jarring thud. Her heart beat hard against her chest, and she fought back a tide of panic.

“Cassidy?” Jake's voice rang loud and clear, but she couldn't see a damn thing.

She patted the ground around her, searching for the bag she'd been carrying. Nothing. But her fingers latched onto the object she'd retrieved from above. “Down here.” A thin beam of light flickered from above, and she glanced up.

“Are you okay?”

Cassidy did a mental check and figured that besides the shock of performing an Alice-down-the-rabbit-hole stunt, she was fine. Her back and butt would be a canvas splashed with black and blue, but vanity wasn't one of her stronger characteristics. “I'll live. I've lost my bag. Can you toss down a flashlight?”

“Hold on; let me get Steve.” She heard Jake's voice echo above. Cassidy decided against any form of movement until she had a visual of her surroundings. “Okay, I'm lowering Steve's entire bag.”

Cassidy felt rather than saw the bag float down from above. When her hands touched the canvas, she dragged it to her. Searching within, her fingers felt the cool metal of the flashlight. She flicked the light on and spun it around the interior of her cave. “Wow.”

Twisted metal bent dramatically at uneven angles, glittering in the narrow beam of light. She smelled damp earth and flipped her flashlight to the left. Silt trickled from the walls in slow streams of grain and rock, pooling on the ground in bumpy mounds.

“What?”

“This appears to be some kind of lab, which goes right along with the lid of a petri dish I found topside.” She flipped the light up toward the area where she'd fallen and smiled when it lit Jake's face. “You look like you've lost your favorite toy.”

He grinned and cocked his head. “I have.”

“Go grab a rope from the Jeep, Chuckie. I'm going to investigate this place.”

He winked. “Be careful. This entire area is unstable.”

She nodded and turned her attention to her surroundings. It was obvious that whatever had been used to destroy the cabin had originated from this area. She kicked aside fallen wood and skimmed the light across the cracked surface of granite. The counters and cabinets were twisted and mangled, and there was glass everywhere. Careful of her steps, she ran a finger across the edge of what appeared to be a cryogenic storage container.

A soft thud startled her, and she spun around. Jake stood in the beam of her flashlight. “Didn't want you to get lonely,” he said.

“This is a state-of-the-art laboratory.”

“Fifteen feet below the surface and nicely hidden.” Jake clipped a small halogen lamp to a piece of suspended metal. It lit the entire interior. “Very suspicious.”

She nodded to her left. “Take a look at that. The way the wall divides these two areas and the amount of glass on the floor, it'd be my guess that we're facing a negative airflow chamber.”

Jake scooped something from the rubble. “Mechanical arm?”

“That confirms that supposition.”

“Hey, you two, I think you need to get out of there.” Steve's head popped through the opening. Cassidy's eyes widened as she felt the earth move and heard a loud wail emanate from the cracks in the foundation.

Jake grabbed her hand and shoved her at the rope. “Go!”

She scrambled upward, moving hand over hand as the walls of the laboratory cracked and gave way. Her heart beat fast. “Hurry up, Jake!” she called, praying he was right behind her. Steve's hand reached down and he pulled her through the hole, pushing her off the blackened mound.

“Run!” Jake's voice reached her from the edge of the hole, and she spun on her heels racing away from the decimated cabin. The ground rumbled and shook, knocking her off balance. Falling to her knees, she twisted around and watched in horror as dust and ash rose behind the running figures of Jake and Steve. The earth shrieked one last time and then collapsed upon itself, leaving nothing behind but a crater full of soil and cinders.

“I guess that's that,” Steve panted and dropped to the ground next to her.

Jake kicked the ground and swore violently. “That was probably our only lead to whatever is happening in Yellowstone.”

“We'll have to excavate,” Steve said.

Cassidy turned toward him. “And how are we going to get approval for that without alerting NWP that we know about this lab?” She didn't like the look that crossed between Jake and Steve. “What do you two know that I don't?”

Jake reached down and helped her to her feet. “Nothing, Sunshine. Let's get out of here.”

“Where to?”

Steve laughed. “I've confiscated the plane.”

Cassidy raised a brow. “You have? I'm impressed.”

They headed back toward the helicopter. She needed a shower. Glancing at the two men next to her, she sniffed the air. They all needed a shower. Cassidy figured among the three of them, they carried about five buckets' worth of black residue.

Jake leaned back from the pilot's seat. “You okay, Sunshine?” His eyes softened and for a brief instant she thought he was going to reach over and wash her troubles away with one of his mind-blowing kisses, but he moved back.

Cassidy glanced down, hiding her disappointment. “I'm fine.” She didn't touch him even though every fiber in her being wanted to reach out and hold on.

E
DWARD STRETCHED
. H
IS BACK CRACKED, AND HE TWISTED
his neck to ease the strain of the past hours spent on the computer. He peered into a small portable microscope and studied the sample of blood he'd extracted from the dead wolf on the banks of the river.

His eyes skimmed toward the suitcase containing the vials of CPV-19, and a deep biting pain of regret bunched in his chest. So close to success but still a league away. The consistency and level of coagulation puzzled him. Not to mention the physical mutation of that last wolf. He needed to isolate the result to the mutation of Fifth Disease and parvo, making certain that his modification technique didn't trigger any of the symptoms. Damn the board for rushing!

The hard drive on his computer hummed, but nothing transferred from the scope to the monitor. Edward disengaged the cable connecting the microscope to the computer and reattached it. He turned his computer off and rebooted. When his screen finally loaded, he kicked off the program that analyzed the genetic composition of the blood.

The results were then sent to another program created by Jason. It synthesized the progress of CPV-19 within both human and canine.

Edward waited. His computer screen flickered, dimmed, and then displayed the results in glaring red letters.

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. Edward rubbed his face and pursed his lips, focusing on the ideas in his head. He picked up a pen and began jotting down notes.

Virus failed to act as desired
.

Why?

Side effect of erythropoietin production
.

Why?

DON'T KNOW.

Physical mutation evident
.

Why?

“Because I'm a damn idiot,” Edward yelled to his empty room.

He swore and kicked the leg of the table, causing his microscope to wobble.
Think, Edward, think
. His process of modifying the genetic composition succeeded, but the end result failed. Understood. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. This meant it hadn't failed 100 percent.
Right
. “Too damn bad you're dead, Jason. I sure could use your help right now.”

Keep going
.

These were side effects that inhibited his claim of successfully controlling genetic modification of a virus and accurate calculation of its interaction with cells.

Edward pulled up a new window on the computer and retrieved another file. He ran his finger down a mathematical diagram. “There you are.” He tapped the screen. The numbers he studied disclosed the cell division rate of CPV-19-infected red blood cells. The virus spread at an expected rate for a period of time, then escalated to five times the norm.

This is what had bothered him when Jason had rudely interrupted yesterday. He glanced at the case containing vials of CPV-19.

It was deadlier than he'd originally anticipated.

Flipping back to the other window, he noted the human figure infected with CPV-19 showed an increased production of erythropoietin from the kidneys. The mutation of CPV-2/B-19 triggered this.

Why?

Edward moved the mouse to the right and watched the virtual progression of the disease. The heart ceased its ability to pump the thickened blood, its arteries collapsing beneath the pressure. Veins containing the coagulated cells forced the gelatinous substance out of every orifice in the body much the same as the geysers releasing their heated water.

Success was still years away.

Yes, he'd managed to alter the genetic composition of a virus and accomplish the impossible. He'd forced the virus to recognize specific cells and attach itself victoriously; however, he hadn't eliminated the appearance of side effects.

He hadn't discovered a miracle. He'd created a monster.

Hitting a series of key commands, Edward tilted his head and studied the virus as it spread through the canine system. Same as the virtual display on the human diagram. Thickened blood, arteries collapsing, artery overload. Frowning, he leaned forward and studied his monitor.

He pushed back from the table and stood up, exhausted and frustrated. Edward walked to the front door and opened it, inhaling the crisp air of early evening. The sun had long since disappeared, but the busy street remained bathed in the glow of twilight. Darkness remained an hour or so away.

Disappointment rattled his nerves. Edward verified the access card to his room was in his pocket and stepped onto the concrete walkway. The lure of fast food drew him down the stairs. He turned and glanced back at his room, pondering what lay within.

He'd created a damn good biological weapon but hadn't managed to achieve his goal of scientific brilliance. Edward cracked his knuckles

After dinner, he'd attach his findings to an e-mail and send it to Dr. Lowell.

He had no patent, at least not yet. What he needed to do was save his own life. There was no doubt in Edward's mind that when the board discovered his location, they'd be here to collect the virus and eliminate his existence.

He prayed Cassidy Lowell had connections in high places and would be able to prevent his murder. An idea niggled at Edward's brain. Something about Fifth Disease. The answer to deactivating the virulence of CPV-19 lay there. He just needed time to figure it out. And that was one thing he didn't have.

Edward glanced at his watch and then back at the room where a metal briefcase of death lay waiting. He swallowed against the bile that rose in his throat.

What if his future patent was contained within those glass tubes? Edward turned and headed toward the golden arches. If he were a stronger man, he'd ignore that temptation and destroy CPV-19.

Cassidy shuffled in the tiny confines of the shower. Hot water pounded from the shower head, pelting her body with stinging drops. It soothed. A new confliction regarding the geological survey began to plague her mind.

Black Stripe. Was it really all that it appeared to be? It seemed so; however, the anguish in Anna's dying face never ceased to haunt her nights. If Black Stripe were all good and patriotic, wouldn't they have rescued everyone that night? Cassidy turned the nozzle, determined to save a small amount of hot water for the men as self-defense against their stinkiness.

She slipped out of the shower and quickly donned clean jeans and a shirt. How her things continued to show up at every location amazed and astonished. Cassidy dug into the interior of her makeup bag and found the flashcard containing the geological survey. Not wanting it on her, she hid it once more. Tonight, when everyone slept, she'd slip this into the computer and study its contents.

Her eye caught a pink cylindrical container. Smiling, Cassidy once more retrieved the flashcard from her makeup bag and slipped it into her tampon case, a safe male deterrent.

A flash of Jake's tenderness invaded her troubled mind.
Don't go there
.

Cassidy inhaled and exhaled several times. “Not going there.”

Wrapping her fingers around the small latch on the bathroom door, she pushed it open and stepped into the alcove that surrounded the back of the plane.

She moved forward, convincing herself she could play this game of charades. Cassidy glanced at Steve and refused to dwell on the fact that he was also Black Stripe. It was too complicated and horrifying to consider. Sitting down at one of the computers, she tapped the keys and logged in. “I'm checking my e-mail.”

Steve walked over and sat next to her. “Good idea. Also pull up the news articles regarding your arrest warrant.”