This was key. There wouldn't be a recording for Karsten to review. We just had to avoid live detection.
Ben gave a tight smile, mocking my "master criminal" imitation. I nodded back.
Raising the binoculars, I ran a quick recheck of the compound. Nothing stirred.
"The ferry's not due for two and a half hours. The island is deserted, except for security, and those bozos never pay attention. We're only in the open a few seconds, tops." I squared my shoulders. "Our plan will work."
Rain ticked the rocks, the leaves, and branches overhead. Still sensing doubt, I attempted the Jedi mind trick, willed them to agree.
"I could watch the boat?" Hi suggested hopefully.
"We need you." Shelton was back on board. "You've been inside Lab Six. We haven't."
"Once," Hi whined. "One time. My dad grabbed something and we left." A raised hand waved off my response. "I know what you're going to say! I'm the only one who can work the sonicator. Lucky me." Big sigh. "Fine. I'll sonicate."
"Then let's go," I said, allowing no time for a wimp out.
"I should've written a will." Hi dropped to a squat, tightened his sneakers, then bounced into a sprinter's pose. "Okay. Just yell 'go.'"
"Don't crowd me at the fence." Shelton was gripping his tools so tightly I thought he might break them. "I need space to work."
I turned to Ben. "Ready?"
Ben nodded. Had he spoken since we'd set foot on the island? Maybe not. But I was damn sure he was ready.
One last peek up the trail. All clear.
"Go!"
We shot along the path, water pluming from our sneakers.
Twenty seconds to the enclosure.
The chain-link fence was covered with green nylon sheeting and topped with razor wire. Climbing it wasn't an option. The gate consisted of a pair of fence sections hinged and set on wheels. A stout padlock secured the segments when closed. Basic, but effective.
Shelton dropped to one knee to assess his target.
Being the smallest, yours truly was the designated lookout. Pressing one eye to the fence, I peered into the enclosure. Ben and Hi took cover behind a stand of bushes.
Shelton unwrapped his kit, purchased months earlier on eBay. He practiced with the tools daily, boasted he could pick any lock in under thirty seconds. Faced with the actual task, he looked a tad less confident.
Chewing a thumbnail, I watched Shelton insert and jiggle a small, L-shaped torsion wrench until it fit. He then pushed a half-diamond pick into the lock and gently applied pressure with the wrench.
Though the rain eased back to a sprinkle, the temperature showed no such mercy. Sweating from heat and trepidation, I promised myself a dozen showers.
I could hear a clock ticking in my head. Someone could spot Shelton or me at any moment. Or Sam/Carl, in an uncharacteristic burst of responsibility, could glance at the security monitors. We'd be dead ducks.
"Hustle!" I whispered. "You're over one minute!"
Tongue between his teeth, eyes half-closed, Shelton focused on his task. I watched him wiggle the wrench, then push back on the lock. Wiggle. Push. Wiggle. Push.
Click.
Shelton smiled. "Got it!" He yanked downward and the lock popped free.
I eased open the gate. Hi and Ben materialized from the shrubbery and bunched behind me. I hung the padlock from the chain-linking, ready for re-locking on our way out.
Next came the dangerous part.
Deep breath.
After a thumbs-up, I raised my fingers and mouthed the words. One. Two. Three. We shot through the breach and darted left along the fence line.
For five terrifying seconds we were on wide-open grass, exposed to security cameras and to anyone in the main yard. Unavoidable. No cover. Like frightened mice, we scurried toward safety.
Adrenaline pumping, we rounded the corner of the building containing Lab Six, and squeezed behind it.
Hearts pounding, we listened for sounds to suggest that we'd been spotted.
Silence.
After counting to sixty, we bumped fists, pleased with ourselves for clearing the first hurdle. We were off the camera grid.
Taking the lead, I crept along the rear of the building until a small alcove came into view. The service door.
Phase two.
Shelton kicked into gear. Though the door lock was cake, the deadbolt was tricky. Wrench. Pick. Shelton raked the pins, coaxing them into proper alignment.
Minutes ticked by.
"Bingo." Shelton slid back the bolt.
The door swung inward, revealing blackness beyond.
CHAPTER 12
Cool air oozed from the darkness, bringing with it the smell of disinfectant and air conditioning.
We slipped inside and closed the door behind us.
"Hit the freakin' lights!" Shelton does not love the dark.
"Shh. Hold on," I whispered.
I groped the wall, finally found a panel of switches. Flipping several, I activated halogens overhead.
We stood in a windowless concrete chamber, empty but for a short staircase leading to a sturdy wooden door.
I bounded up the three treads, tested. The knob turned.
"Let's go." I motioned Hi to lead. The others followed.
"No talking until we get to the lab."