“Then we’re all infected.” Aiden’s lips twisted. “So, what’s plan C?” There was a growl in the question. Hisjavaaneealready knew the answer and he wasn’t happy about it.
“We wait. If these men are infected, they will show signs.” As would Aiden. Wolf’s chest turned hollow.
“Son of a bitch.” Cosky snapped. “That could take forever.”
“Yes.” Wolf’s voice remained placid, but his chest ached. With the bath Aiden had taken, he could be infected again. They could not pull him up either.
“We don’t have enough fuel to hover for hours.” The pilot broke into the comm. “We’ll need to hit a depot.”
Wolf grunted in agreement. He’d already considered this. “Aiden, you need to get these men into the wheelhouse, out of the weather. We can not risk additional spray hitting them.”Or you, although he held his tongue on the last part. “We will return once our fuel is full,” he added in a tight voice.
Jude had drilled into him to leave no warrior behind. Yet he here he was, ordering the chopper away and leaving hisjavaaneeto fend for himself. This was not the lesson hisAnisbeccohad instilled in him.
“You’re fucking with me.” Cosky sounded stunned. “You’re just gonna leave him down there?”
Wolf’s mouth flattened. “We have no choice.”
Cosky nailed Wolf with a look so volcanic it should have left scorch marks, then turned back to the cargo door. “Aiden, once you get your new BFFs under cover,” he said into his mic, his cool tone at odds with his furious face, “keep that boat pointed into the waves. Kait won’t be happy with me if you drown out here. So you better be waiting for us, on board and mentally intact, when we chopper back in to pick up your sorry ass.”
Day 35
Washington, DC
Clark watched the camera feed obsessively over the next two days, but Comfrey and her infected brethren were...unexciting. Just more of that ever-present stationary shit. After their jailbreak earlier, he’d expected more. But no, they’d fallen back into their default mannequin mode.
He’d agonized over whether to shut down and replace his entire computer system and server. If the NNB26 prototype had infected the server, as he suspected, then he needed to shutdown the entire building’s computer system and discard all the computers on the premises.
But the instant he shut the system down, he’d lose access to the basement cameras. Sure, he’d be able to reconnect to the camera feeds after the new server and computers were up and running, but that could take a day, possibly longer.
He couldn’t afford to lose his eyes in the basement for that length of time.
Eventually, he leased another office building on the outskirts of Washington, DC and began moving his staff over there. The move was abrupt, and ongoing. The new building came with a brand-new computer system, one free of NNB26 infestation. His computer engineers were loading the new server with all the files that Nantz Technology needed to continue doing business. The work would be complete by the end of the week.
The old Nantz building would continue running on the old computer system, so the basement cameras would remain operational.
The compromise was expensive and time consuming, but necessary. This way, he retained his eyes in the basement, while protecting his business and secrets. The hardest part was producing an explanation for the sudden change in venue. He’d finally hit on the perfect excuse. He’d claim he was repurposing the building, turning it into expensive condominiums for Washington’s elite. Not only did this explanation allow him to remain in his penthouse, but it gave him plenty of wiggle room to change his mind and move his business back on site once he resolved the nanobot infestation.
Not that he was doing much resolving lately.
The reminder brought his eyes back to the laptop screen, where the camera feed was rolling.
The specimens were still huddled around the bot tanks, maintaining the same positions they’d taken on the daythey entered. Were they awaiting instructions on what to do next? It almost seemed like that. But if so, that indicated someone oversaw them. Maybe his little geniuses hadn’t gone rouge after all. Maybe someone had hacked into his NNB26 prototype’s controls and reprogrammed them. Except there was no indication of that. Nor had he been locked out of the programming module. The prototype had simply ignored his instructions.
Grimacing, he tabled the questions and returned his attention to the camera feed in the testing tank lab. At first, he didn’t notice any changes. Dr. Comfrey and the others were still standing around the testing tank, staring at nothing. His gaze slid past her, only to stop and backtrack. Something was off. Something was wrong.
It took him a bit of staring to see the difference between the current camera view and the one from his memory of minutes ago. An octagon shaped piece of metal jutted up from the testing tank lid now. It hadn’t been there before. Nor did he recognize the piece of metal.
That’s when he realized there was something odd about the positioning of Comfrey’s right arm. From her armpit down, her right arm disappeared behind the testing tank. Yet…the angle was wrong. The tank was too wide for her arm to drop straight down like that. It would stretch out over the tank. Unless....unless the lid was open. And her arm was hanging down, inside the tank.
He reeled back in horror. The chair squeaking like a rabid chihuahua.
Holy mother of Christ.
The upright piece of metal was the testing tank’s hatch. It’sopenhatch.
And Comfrey had stuck her arm inside the tank, offering it to billions of active nanobots.
He jolted forward and hunched over his keyboard, tapping like a maniac. The programming module for the atomic force microscope came online. His fingers shook as he accessed the program. But the program threw an error message. Comfrey must have dislodged the microscope when she opened the hatch. He switched back to the lab camera. Her arm was still inside the testing tank.
