Mick ignores her as he searches the web, typing in CHICXULUB CRATER, as he recalls the words he had spoken to Dominique. The biggest event in history will happen on December 21, when humanity perishes. Not entirely true, he realizes now. The biggest event in history, at least up until now, had occurred sixty-five million years ago, and it had taken place in the Gulf of Mexico.

The first file appears on screen. Without bothering to read it, he presses PRINT ALL.

He hears security approaching from the adjacent hall. Come on, come on …

Mick grabs the three sheets of printouts and shoves them into his pants pocket as several security guards enter the computer room.

“I’ve asked him three times to leave. He even managed to steal my password.”

“We’ll handle it, ma’am.” The muscular redhead nods to his two guards, who grab Mick by the arms.

Mick offers no resistance as the redhead struts forward, getting up in his face.

“Resident, you were asked to vacate this room. Is that a problem?”

Mick sees Dr. Foletta enter the room out of the corner of his eye. He glances at the guard’s identification badge and offers the redhead a smile. “You know, Raymond, all the muscles in the world won’t get you laid if your breath reeks of garlic—”

Foletta approaches. “Raymond, don’t—”

The uppercut strikes Mick squarely on the solar plexus, driving the air from his lungs. He falls forward, doubled up in pain, his body still supported on either side by the two guards.

“God dammit, Raymond, I said to wait—”

“Sorry, sir, I thought you—”

Mick regains his feet and, in one motion, arches his back, raising his knees to his chest before kicking outward, the heels of his tennis shoes smashing hard into the redhead’s face, shattering the man’s nose and upper lip in a spray of blood.

Raymond drops to the floor in a heap.

Foletta bends over the semiconscious guard, staring at the man’s face. “That was uncalled-for, Mick.”

“An eye for an eye, eh, Doctor.”

Two more orderlies enter, brandishing stun guns. Foletta shakes his head. “Escort Mr.Gabriel to his room, then get a physician down here to take care of this idiot.”

It is late by the time Dominique pulls the black Pronto Spyder into the facility’s parking lot. She enters the lobby, then swipes her magnetic identification card to pass through the first-floor security checkpoint.

“Won’t work, Sunshine.”

The voice is weak and a bit muffled. “Raymond, is that you?” Dominique can barely see the big redhead through the security gate.

“Use the facial scan.”

She enters her code, then presses her face to the rubber housing, the infrared beam scanning her features.

The security door unlocks.

Raymond is leaning back in his chair. A heavy gauze bandage is wrapped around his head, covering his nose. Both eyes are black.

“Jesus, Ray, what the hell happened to you?”