Code Name: Nanny (SEAL and Code Name #5)(92)

As the doors slid open, Summer had a sudden whiff of something different about the air.

Underhill glanced back at her. “So you noticed that, did you? Because of the chemicals we work with, we have our own closed ventilation system in here for safety. We take advantage of that technology and generally maintain the oxygen at twenty-two percent.”

“You pump in your own mix?” Summer’s eyebrow rose. “That must be expensive.”

“Not as expensive as losing months of work due to human error caused by muddled thinking.” Underhill pointed down the corridor. Neat, printed signs warned workers to wear goggles when using lab facilities and to clean up and store all chemicals before they left the premises. “Safety is very important to us.” He pushed open a heavy metal door and waited for Gabe and Summer to precede him. Once they were inside, he closed the door and stood against it, his face haggard and strained. “We don’t have much time. We’ll walk through two more lab areas and then leave.”

“This additional information of yours had better be good,” Gabe said flatly.

“Trust me, it is.”

“A senator?” Voices drifted from the hallway. Underhill motioned Gabe to silence as the big metal door rattled behind him, and then two men walked into the neighboring lab, visible through a high window. “Later. Is your driver parked in the back?”

Gabe nodded.

Underhill swallowed. “As soon as those workers leave, we’ll detour through that lab and take the back door outside.”

Behind the window, one of the uniformed men bent down, reaching for something near the floor.

Underhill frowned. “They shouldn’t be there.” When the man didn’t look up, Underhill knocked loudly on the Plexiglas.

“What’s going on?” Gabe moved beside him.

“That’s the ventilation panel they’re working on. But it’s not right.” He licked his lips nervously. “They’re too soon.” The scientist shoved Gabe aside and hammered on the window. “Stop,” he ordered angrily. “This isn’t right.”

Summer realized the air smelled musty, like wet animals. Given the kind of tests that must have been done in this room, maybe extra oxygen was a good idea.

Suddenly Gabe jerked on the doorknob, banging loudly. “Open up. Damn it, somebody get over here!”

The sound echoed in the empty room, but next door the workers didn’t seem to notice.

“They can’t hear you in there. Even if they could, they wouldn’t care.” Underhill sank against the wall, his face pasty white.

For some reason Summer’s pulse felt fast and unsteady as she walked toward Gabe.

The air.

Underhill had mentioned the lab’s high-tech ventilation system. She realized the air had probably been tainted. “Gabe, do you smell it? Gas?”

“I smell it. Help me find something to break the window.”

Summer noticed a small storage chest on the far wall. She fumbled open the biggest drawer and found a fire extinguisher, but when she tried to lift it, she was struck by a wave of dizziness. Swaying, she braced her shoulder against the wall while the floor tilted wildly.

Gabe was working on the doorknob with a penknife, and Summer watched his face blur, then split into two identical images. Seconds later Underhill slumped onto the floor.

Gabe’s mouth moved, but Summer couldn’t make out the words. “Use this.” Fighting to breathe, she held up the fire extinguisher.

“Hold on, honey.” Gabe caught her as she swayed.

“Feel sick. It hurts—to swallow.” Summer took a jerky step, then collapsed against Gabe’s chest.





[page]chapter 34

Gabe’s wrists were on fire. Cursing, he opened his eyes and squinted into darkness. He was facedown, his cheek pressed against vinyl, his wrists bound at his back.

He twisted upright, and pain shot through his head. A little gift from the gas in the lab, he figured.

“Summer?”

No answer.

He had a knife secured in his boot, but his legs were bound, too. He would have to—

Something bumped his shoulder.

“Gabe?” Her voice was unsteady, inches from his head.

“Right here. Keep talking.”

“I feel like throwing up.”

He had to smile. “Me, too, honey. Feels like the mother of all hangovers, believe me.” Gabe felt her leg and then rolled sideways, working his hands upward. The movements were difficult because his wrists were bound. “Are you hurt?”

“My head feels like a merry-go-round on fast-forward, and my elbows ache. Otherwise, I’m just chipper. Where in the heck are we?”

“I think we’re in the backseat of a truck.” Gabe refused to think about the grinding pain at his knee. “Are your hands tied?”

“Tight.” Summer laughed grimly. “Duct tape, I’m afraid.”

“No problem. I’ve got a knife stashed in my right boot, but I can’t reach it with my hands bound behind me like this.”

Summer wriggled closer. “Okay, I can feel your boot.” Her bound hands covered his leg, digging beneath his boot. “No luck. I can’t get any lower. I had a razor and a nail file in my purse, but it’s gone now. How about your belt?”