William had flagged two buildings of interest: a lab complex, and an administrative building that housed the island’s data center and communications equipment. According to the residents they’d interrogated, neither building was heavily guarded, and the current work shift would be ending within the hour—that would be the best time to infiltrate the buildings.

Quickly, they made a plan that struck Peyton as well conceived. The SEALs and Force Recon troops would make their way to the barracks and defense complex. Their first priority would be disabling the island’s radar and missile capabilities. Then they would rig explosives to the troop carriers; the logic was that if the island’s infantry units were mobilized to repel a ground assault, they could be neutralized quickly. The plan was efficient and deadly, and perhaps the best they could do with their limited forces.

Their search of the homes had turned up an IT administrator named Carl and a senior biomedical engineer named Gretchen. Their shifts were about to start, and they would provide a cover for the infiltration teams. Desmond, William, and Avery would enter the administrative building with Carl, who would tell anyone who asked that they were new consultants who needed access to the database. Charlotte and Peyton would enter the lab complex with Gretchen, and search for any information related to the cure. Two Navy SEALs would go with the second team. Each team member had brought along civilian clothes and a disguise for this exact type of infiltration.

In the bathroom, Peyton began washing off the face paint. When she looked in the mirror, she saw Desmond standing in the doorway.

“Be careful.”

She stared at him in the mirror. “You too.”

“I’ll see you on the other side.”

“I’ll be there.” And she hoped he would too.

Chapter 114

Chapter 114

Peyton rode in the back of the electric car with Gretchen and Charlotte. The two Navy SEALs sat in the front, both silent, eyes forward, occasionally glancing around for any signs of trouble along the dirt road that wound through the island. The car’s tiny lamps barely cut the darkness; Peyton assumed that was to avoid being spotted from above. The roads weren’t covered with large canopies; instead, large trees lined both sides, their massive limbs stretching overhead.

Peyton glanced over at Gretchen. The woman was in her mid forties, fit, with blond hair and an annoyed expression. Peyton wondered what had happened in the house to convince her to take them into the lab building. She assumed some sort of coercion was involved. Most of all, she wondered how a person with a PhD in biomedical engineering, who seemed rational, would ever cooperate with the Citium.

“Why did you do it?” she asked.

Gretchen replied without looking Peyton in the eyes. Her accent was German, or perhaps Dutch, Peyton thought. “I dispute the premise.”

Peyton bunched her eyebrows.