Synbat (7 page)

He was met with a negative response. Riley decided to try to make some peace with Knutz. "What do you think, Top?"
Knutz pointed at the two civilians. "They're the experts." He passed the question off to the DIA officer. "What do you want us to do now, sir?"
Freeman rubbed his chin. "I guess we turn around and do a sweep on the way back. We must have missed them. Maybe we were off course."
Riley stabbed a finger at the map. "We're exactly where a two-oh-two degree azimuth from the lab meets the lake, sir. No more than twenty meters off either way. How accurate was this beacon on their collars?"
Ward didn't have the data on that. "I'm not sure. But we've got to find the bodies."
Riley looked back the way they had come. "The choppers wouldn't do us any good. It's too thick down here." He addressed Freeman. "How about calling in some more help from Fort Campbell, sir?"
Freeman knew that wouldn't go over well at his higher headquarters. "I'd like to keep the number of people involved to a minimum as long as possible. Let's try a sweep on the way back. If we don't find anything, I've got some of my people flying in from Washington; they should be here soon."
Riley shrugged; sometimes it was better to be the follower rather than the leader. "All right, guys. Let's reverse it. Keep your eyes open. We'll go a little slower. Check out any clumps of bushes. Maybe they crawled under something before they got blown up. Let's do it."
* * * *

Biotech Engineering

_11:20 A.M._
Robin Merrit punched up the security log one more time and stared at it. Being an expert on computer systems was just one of the necessary skills that had made her a top genetic engineer less than four years after completing her doctorate. If the malfunction lay with the security setup the DIA had imposed, that might allow Ward to point some fingers and give the project some breathing room. Merrit knew that Ward was fighting the Pentagon to keep his conduit of funds flowing. In an era of reduced world tensions and budget cutbacks, even the anonymous Pentagon Black Budget was going to take a beating.
Merrit had long ago recognized the reality of her situation. She didn't like it here and she hated working for Ward. All her knowledge and work was siphoned off by the older man and she knew that she would get little, if any, credit for their research advances. Initially, her deepest regret was not being able to publish any of their results because of the security requirements. It was a catch-22. Working for the federal government allowed them to bypass the stringent procedural limitations on research imposed by law, but it also kept their findings from being acknowledged or replicated by the rest of the scientific community. Thus even the scant satisfaction of knowing that their work might be used productively somewhere else was denied to her.
Merrit's colleagues from college would be dismayed and shocked to learn that she was working for the government  --  the Pentagon no less. It had not been an easy choice, but the alternatives had been bleak. After graduating with her doctorate in bioengineering, Merrit had worked briefly as a lab researcher at the University of Texas at Austin. That job had lasted for four years, during which time she had started earning a closed-circle reputation for brilliance, supported by the ability to do the thorough, tedious work to back up her ideas.
Initially, for personal reasons, she had spurned several offers from various government agencies to put her talents to work for them. It was only after the university lost its federal research funding for farm animal genetic engineering that she was forced to consider government work. She finally took stock of the current state of scientific research in the United States, and was dismayed by what she found. Pure research in America was at a level less than 10 percent of what it had been thirty years before. A budget-conscious Congress had seen to that.
The ability, or desire, of universities and corporations to fund such research was also very low if the research did not point to an immediately usable solution to a problem  --  a profitable solution at that. The nebulous goals of pure research made it an undesirable field for investment of capital. This was despite the fact that pure research laid the foundation for the more immediate and practical findings. Like a slow-acting leukemia, the lack of funding for pure research was deteriorating the lifeblood of American industry, which relied heavily on research and development to be competitive in the international arena.
Despite her blossoming reputation, Merrit had had difficulty in her search for a new civilian workplace. Compounding the problem was the fact that stringent animal experimentation requirements, forced upon the research world by animal rights groups pressuring the government, made it almost impossible to conduct the live-animal research necessary to genetic engineering.
Faced with the dual challenges of lack of available research sites and the federal limitations, Merrit gave in and listened seriously to Doctor Ward when he came to her with a pitch for a job.
The concept for the project at Biotech Engineering sounded relatively harmless but fascinating and challenging. The proposed budget, lab setup, and freedom from federal limitations were strongly attractive. Merrit had long nourished a radical concept in bioengineering, and Ward's proposal seemed to open the door to pursue that dream.
Only after she had signed on and started working at the lab did Merrit realize that Ward had twisted the truth. Yes, she was doing quite a bit of interesting theoretical work and valid applied experimentation. And, yes, this work was on the cutting edge of genetic engineering. But Merrit did not feel comfortable with the end result.
The purpose of the Synbats repelled her. Still, the advances they were achieving fascinated her. They were beyond the current scope of biological engineering, exploring uncharted territory. If Ward had ever stopped to see what they had truly achieved, Merrit thought he would realize, as she did, that they had moved beyond the realm of present understanding and, she felt, far beyond the requirements imposed by the Pentagon.
For the past year Merrit had lived on an emotional edge regarding her work. On the one hand, she knew that the theoretical findings would be invaluable once released to others in the field under the Freedom of Information Act. On the other hand, she also knew that the actual practical work done at Biotech would never be released to the public. The fact that they had initially been so far from the specifications desired by the Pentagon had given her false comfort. She had no way of knowing that Ward was falsifying his reports to General Trollers to keep the project going. Naively, she had waited for the budget plug to be pulled. It was only after she had tapped into Ward's personal files in the computers that she discovered his deception to both her and their military bosses. She saw then that the Synbat project would not be terminated anytime soon.
Merrit felt that they had stumbled onto something very significant in the Synbats  --  significant in a way that no one else in the project truly understood, or even cared to. Ward was too concerned with keeping his funds flowing and meeting the statement of requirements dictated by the Pentagon. Merrit alone had focused on what they had developed, and in doing so she had noticed some strange quirks in the data and, even more important, in the actions of the Synbats.
The situation had come to a head less than three months ago when Ward had gone to Washington for a week-long conference. Up to that point, they'd kept the Synbats heavily sedated to make them more compliant. The extreme aggression of the creatures had always been a major concern. Without sedation they were not trainable or controllable. Even with it, they were extremely dangerous, as evidenced by the events of last night. As Merrit had discovered from the computer, Ward had not reported that problem to the Pentagon; he was hoping that they could do something in the next generation to make the animals more tractable yet capable of performing as the Pentagon expected  --  an almost impossible set of contradictory requirements.
During those five days that Ward was gone, Merrit had held back the sedatives to see how the Synbats  --  now full-grown adults  --  would react without its numbing effect. The results had been startling and disturbing. She'd shown Ward the videotape, but he'd insisted that they keep it quiet or else face the loss of funds from the Black Budget.
At that point, Merrit had tried quitting. Despite her limited job options outside of the government, she had had enough. At last, she admitted to herself that she was terrified of what was happening in the lab.
Unfortunately, she had found out that quitting was not as easy as making an announcement. Ward felt her to be indispensable to the project, and the Defense Intelligence Agency had sent a representative to Merrit to clarify her position in no uncertain terms, pulling out the original work agreement she had signed when starting at Biotech.
The agent had explained it succinctly. The DIA would see to it that she didn't work for any research facility receiving federal funding. That meant she would either continue to work here or not work in the field at all. Additionally, any work she did on her own would have to be processed through the DIA's Research Supervision Office to ensure that nothing in it was related to any of the classified work she had done for the government. In other words, she could do nothing on her own. With that brief one-way conversation, the DIA had effectively nailed her to the job at Biotech.
Yet for the first time in many months she felt hopeful. Ward had upset the DIA by not blowing the collars on time. That and the three bodies had probably sounded the death knell for Biotech Engineering and correspondingly freed Merrit from her prison.
But three people were dead! The project should not have turned out this way. If they'd only listened to her. The world had enough problems without adding this unholy experiment, the exact ramifications of which not even its creators knew.
* * * *

Vicinity Lake Barkley

_11:43 A.M._
Riley was preparing to recross Williams Hollow Creek when he halted. Something on the far side caught his attention. He squatted down and scanned the bank, trying to focus. The sun had finally broken through the clouds and he was sure he had seen the light reflect off something. He heard the two nonteam members of the party come up behind him, breathing hard.
"What's the matter?" Ward puffed.
Riley put up a hand to silence him. Something metallic lay underneath a small bush on the far side. Riley stood up and waded across the creek, climbing up the far bank. He signaled for Ward and Freeman to stay back and then gingerly moved toward the bush. He scanned the ground beneath him. In the damp earth he could see some unidentifiable tracks.
Riley's questions about the entire operation hit him with more force on seeing those strange tracks. He pulled a magazine out of his ammo pouch and slid it into the well of the weapon. Seating it with a tap, he pulled back the bolt and slowly let it ride forward. He pushed on the M16's forward assist to make sure that the round was seated properly, then he rotated the selection switch to semiautomatic. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Doc Seay mimicking his actions with his weapon.
Riley crossed the last few meters to the bush, taking care not to trample the tracks. He could now see what was under the bush. He scanned the far side of the bush and the far slope. Nothing. If there had been anything else, they would have spotted it on the first trip.
Riley took a deep breath, then signaled the team to assemble nearby. He turned and gestured for Ward and Freeman to move up.
"Don't step in the tracks," Riley warned as the two came forward across the creek. He pointed at the bush. "There are your collars, or what's left of them."

*Chapter 4*
_Vicinity Lake Barkley_
_12:06 P.M._
Freeman held the remains of the collars in his hands. "What's going on, Doctor?" There were four half pieces of metal, the ends cleanly cut.
Ward took the pieces and examined them. "These had to have been sawed off prior to getting blown. It looks like the part with the fuse and transceiver in it was destroyed but the other side was okay."
"How did they get sawed off?"
Ward shook his head. "I don't know."
"Whoever took the Synbats had to have done it. Most likely the security guard, if he was in on it."
Ward didn't believe that Stan Lowry had been part of the escape, but Freeman was right: The fact that the collars had been cut off increased the possibility. Maybe someone had even been behind the power failure. Ward reminded himself to look more closely at the computer records when he returned to the lab.
For the moment. Ward was simply glad that the Synbats were apparently still alive. He told Freeman: "It doesn't matter how they got out and who removed the collars. The problem is that we still have to track them down and catch them as soon as possible. I've got the tranquilizer rifles at the lab. We can use those to put them to sleep and bring them in. The army guys can take care of whoever stole them and took off their collars."
Freeman frowned. "I'll let you tranquilize them if you can, but I'm going to tell these men to shoot if there's any danger of the creatures getting away."
Ward realized that this was the best compromise he was going to get; he nodded his acceptance.
Thirty meters away, at the side of the stream, Riley was fielding questions from his curious team. "What was under that bush, chief?"
Riley glanced over where Ward and Freeman were still arguing, then swung his attention back to the team to answer Doc Seay's question. "There's four half circles of metal that look like they were part of the collars Doctor Ward told us about. There was also a small blackened area. From what I could see, it looks like the collars were cut off the monkeys before they were detonated."
Riley addressed Trovinsky, the team's senior weapons man. "Ski, take a look at those tracks where they come out of the creek there and tell me what you think."
Trovinsky walked over to the bank. He was a wiry man with a hatchet-shaped face framed by short black hair. Since Trovinsky spent most of his off-duty time hunting or fishing, Riley figured that he might have some idea what had made the tracks.
After a few minutes of examination, Trovinsky came back, shaking his head. "I don't know, chief. Never seen anything like them. From the impressions, I'd say you got something big  --  about a hundred thirty to a hundred fifty pounds, walking on two legs. I've never seen monkey tracks before, but I imagine that's what they are. There's four distinct sets, two larger, two smaller.
"From the condition of the edge of the impressions, I'd estimate they were here about eight to ten hours ago. It's rained since they were made, so we're talking prior to dawn."
Riley considered the information as he waited for Ward and Freeman to finish their hushed discussion. The two appeared finally to agree on something and came over to where the team was circled up. Riley noticed that both men were more nervous than before. Things weren't so clean-cut now, Riley thought. Plan A was down the tubes. Time for plan B, whatever that was.
Freeman spoke first. "It looks like somebody removed the monkeys' collars. Since there are no bodies here, we have to assume that the collars were cut off before the charge was initiated and the monkeys are still alive."
"I thought you said they escaped," said Knutz. "Are you saying now that someone stole the monkeys and cut off the collars?"
Freeman sighed. "From the original data at the lab we didn't think so, but based on this I'd have to admit there is a possibility that someone did break in and steal them. It's the only thing that makes sense."
Well, that certainly changes things, Riley thought. Still, something didn't sit right. He decided to point out the obvious. "If they were stolen, why aren't there any human tracks here?"
Ward slid his tongue over his lips. "We don't know what happened, so we can't answer that. The important thing now is that we find the monkeys as quickly as possible. I need to get back to my lab and get the tranquilizer guns so we can capture them."
Riley shook his head. "These tracks were made before dawn. That means they've got at least a six-hour lead on us. If someone stole them, they would have had a vehicle nearby and already be long gone. Maybe their plans went to shit and they're on foot for some reason. Maybe these monkeys escaped from the people who broke them out. I don't know, but whatever the reason, we can't afford to wait for you to go back to the lab. If you're serious about catching these monkeys, we've got to move after them _now_."
Riley wondered why Doctor Ward was so anxious to get these particular monkeys back alive. Surely they would have other samples of the modified VX virus back in the lab. Riley waited for a response to his suggestion. He could tell that the DIA agent and the doctor were at odds regarding the best way to handle this.
Riley was surprised when Doc Seay's quiet voice cut in. "If those monkeys are carrying a laboratory-manufactured strain of the VX virus, we can't afford to let them run around. There isn't even a working vaccine for the old strain, never mind a new one. We've got to go after them before they get too far. If someone has stolen them, the only reason I can figure is because that person wants the new strain. I have some worries about that person's motives. Maybe something went wrong and the monkeys escaped from whoever freed them. I don't know. All I do know is that I agree with the chief  --  we can't waste any more time."
Riley nodded his agreement. Seay was a good man, and on the few occasions he gave advice, Riley paid attention. The slightly balding, skinny medic was one of the smartest people Riley had ever met. And Seay had common sense, a more important commodity than pure intelligence, in Riley's opinion.
Freeman proposed a compromise. "How about if I go with the team after the monkeys and Doctor Ward goes back to the lab with one of your men to get the rifles? Then they can fly out here on one of the helicopters."
Riley gestured around at the forest. "There's no place for a helicopter to land around here, sir." He pulled out the map and looked at it. "But the bird might be able to touch down where this creek runs into the lake. The map shows an open area."
Riley turned to his team. "T-bone, you go back with the doctor. When we hear the bird coming in, I'll send someone down to that open area to meet you and guide you back to wherever we're at." He pointed at his senior weapons man, Trovinsky. "Mike, check out that area where the collars were and see if you can find the monkeys' tracks leading away."
Trovinsky walked over to the bush, and Ward and T-bone took off to the east. Riley waited until they were out of sight before he turned to Freeman. "What were you two arguing about, sir? This whole thing is getting kind of flaky."
Freeman shook his head. "It doesn't make much sense to me either. That's what I was talking to Doctor Ward about. We don't know whether the monkeys escaped or if they were stolen. Who would have done that and why they would still be in the area, I don't know."
"Maybe one of those radical animal rights groups did it," Doc Seay suggested. "When I was going through the med lab portion of the Q-course at Bragg, some of those people tried to break in and free the goats we were using to study wound trauma."
Freeman shook his head. "The presence of monkeys at this lab is classified, as is everything that goes on there. I doubt if any animal rights group could have found out about it. Regardless, if you see the monkeys, you're authorized to shoot to stop them from escaping. Attempt to detain any people if they are involved."
Riley addressed the team standing around him. "I want everyone to lock and load. A round in the chamber and the weapon on safe. Like the man said: You see the monkeys and they try to get away, you shoot and stop them."
The air filled with the sound of magazines slamming into weapons and the slap of bolts being released.
Trovinsky yelled from his position, about ten meters behind the bush. "I've got tracks moving upstream. Same as the ones going in."
Riley led the team over. "Any sign of human tracks?"
Trovinsky shook his head. "Nothing. With the rain we had last night, there should be some sign if people were with the monkeys."
Riley gestured for the men to spread out in a wedge. "Let's move out."
Following Trovinsky, the team began moving up the east side of Williams Hollow Creek.
* * * *