He feared the truth.

As he reached the end of the hall, a set of swinging double doors led out to the main lobby and the front entrance. He knew better than to attempt to exit that way. He remembered how swiftly and silently the team had moved down the dark hallway. The intruders had to be employing some form of night-vision equipment, and someone was surely guarding all the exits.

Knowing that, he wanted to get as close to the parking lot before abandoning the cover of the building. Any open window would do.

Still, he wanted to know what he faced.

He edged to the double doors. A pair of narrow, wire-reinforced windows allowed him to spy into the shadowy lobby. The main entrance-a set of glass doors-lay directly opposite his position. He saw no movement, no suspicious shift of shadows inside or outside.

But he wasn’t fooled.

He began to turn away, then stopped. If it hadn’t been so dark, he might have missed it. In the center of the lobby, half hidden by a sofa, a small blinking red light drew his eye. The waxing and waning glow illuminated a five-gallon steel canister on the floor.

The hairs on the back of his neck shivered at the sight.

Bomb…

Jack pulled back and swallowed his fear. At least he had his answer concerning the ultimate objective of this raid. The assault team wouldn’t be satisfied with just eliminating the animals.

This was a total clean sweep.

No one was meant to survive.

Jack pictured the others hidden in the building, both those below and Lorna locked in her own office. He had felt the tremble in her body as he whispered for her to stay. She had put her trust in him, a trust now proven to be sadly misplaced. Holing up here would only get them all killed, blown up during the firestorm to come.

He had only one choice.

If it was a war they wanted…

Turning back to the swinging door, he shifted his weight to one leg and kicked out with the other. The door swung open, and he tossed the flashlight into the lobby while flicking it on with his thumb.

The blazing light tumbled in a wheeling arc into the pitch-dark lobby.

Jack trusted that whoever was watching this door was using night-vision scopes. He didn’t have a flash-bomb to blind naked eyes, but the sudden burning flare of the flashlight through the night-vision scopes would achieve the same end: to momentarily blind any spying eyes while at the same time drawing attention to the lobby.

Jack turned on a heel and headed to the side of the hallway, to a window that led out toward the parklike grounds between the building and the parking lot. If this was going to be a war, he needed weapons.

He yanked the window open, punched out the screen, and climbed into the bushes just outside. He ducked into cover. The distraction would only buy him a minute at most.

It would have to be enough.

He shoved through the bushes and sprinted toward the dark parking lot. Off to the side, in the direction of the front door, he heard a muffled order crack out, angry, pissed.

Jack kept low as he ran, praying the others kept their heads down, too. Especially Lorna.

But he made a mistake, underestimated his opponent.

A sharp detonation blasted behind him. Startled, he tripped on the wet grass and fell headlong. He caught himself and shoulder-rolled to the side. He stared back toward the building. Fire and smoke spat out the front of the facility. Broken glass rained down as far as Jack’s position.

He sat in the grass, stunned. They’d blown the bomb. He had only hoped to distract the others while he fled the building. Blinded, they must have feared an escape out the front door and overreacted, triggering the bomb. It was overkill, like swatting a fly with a wrecking ball.

From this response, Jack knew two things about the leader of this assault team. The bastard was ruthless and determined.

Jack rolled back to his feet and set off for his truck.

If they were to survive, he would have to be the same.

Chapter 29

Duncan approached the fiery ruins of the facility’s main entrance. He had a gas mask held in place as he pushed through the smoke. The heat seared his face, clearly defining where nerve-dead skin ended and healthy tissue started. He evaluated the damage ahead.

The incendiary charge had sent a ball of fire and superheated air through the front of the building. Flames licked through the toxic smoke, but the charge’s concussive force was only moderate. Glass had blown out, and a part of the drop ceiling had caved in, but structurally the building remained intact. Duncan had studied the schematics of the facility. The place was built like a concrete bunker, meant to withstand hurricanes and floods. It had been a calculated risk. One charge would not knock it down.

That’s why Duncan had ordered another ten charges set around the building. His goal was not to blast the facility to the ground, but to burn it down to the foundation. Already the fires from this single charge had spread into the second level. He hadn’t planned to prematurely set off the charge. But the sudden flare of light in the lobby had blinded him. Even ripping off his night-vision goggles hadn’t dimmed the flash. It felt as if his retinas had been permanently burned. Angry and fearful that the scientists were making a break for the main exit, he had reacted on impulse and blown the charge to plug the hole here.

No one could be allowed to escape.

Reaching the doors, he stared into the fire-ravaged lobby. Smoke, swirling soot, and collapsed debris made visibility difficult. One of his men had already dismantled the building’s sprinkler and alarm systems. He searched for bodies, for whoever tried to make a break for the exit.

Half the lobby was covered in the collapsed drop ceiling. If there were bodies under there, he’d never know. Satisfied that no one could have survived the firestorm, he retreated.

Luckily this facility was remote and isolated. He doubted anyone would have spotted the brief fireball rolling into the sky. Still, the premature explosion upset his timetable, shortened it. With fires spreading, his team would have to clear out of the building sooner than projected.

Once clear of the smoke, he crossed back to his second-in-command. The man had a hand pressed to an ear, clearly listening to a report from the team inside.

Duncan waited for him to sign off, then asked, “What’s the word?”

“The team reached the kennel ward. Found one of the animals. A sheep. We decapitated it as ordered. The team has the head and is moving out.”

“What about the others?” Duncan knew from the transponders that there should be at least another four specimens.

His second shook his head. “No sign. Korey is splitting his team. Three men are heading down to the morgue. To attend to the carcasses recovered from the swamp.”

Duncan pictured the two cats.

“The other three are going to split up and canvass floor by floor, room by room. We’ll find the others.”

Duncan slowly nodded. The order from Lost Eden Cay was to salvage what they could-specifically, the skulls of the specimens-and burn the rest. It seemed the problems on Eden had been growing worse. His superiors had little patience with the mishap here. Duncan needed to perform. But it was more than that. It was a matter of pride. His blood and flesh had gone into the Babylon Project. He would not see it fail.

The animals were the intellectual property of Ironcreek Industries. What was in their skulls belonged to the company, and in turn belonged to him. He recognized that if his team couldn’t find the missing animals, the flames would still claim them. Nothing would remain. Still, he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had the heads of all the animals.

Plus there remained one other objective.