From inside the house, Pitt heard the hall floorboards creak. They weren’t alone. He reached toward the workbench beside him and ran his hand across its surface, probing for a weapon. Ignoring some strands of loose wire, he felt a tool—a tiny pair of needle-nose pliers—and he palmed it in his hand.

“There, I think I got it,” Ann said. The computer began to boot up, and she spun the screen toward Pitt, casting the room in a turquoise glow. The faint light reached the house door just as it burst open. Two intruders charged in, then froze as they surveyed the interior.

Pitt saw they were both short but muscular, dressed in dark clothes and wearing night vision goggles. They held Glocks at arm’s length and swept the room mechanically until locking sights on Ann and Pitt.

“Do not move!” the lead assailant shouted with a slight Spanish accent.

He produced a flashlight and aimed its beam at them. Ann had to squint when the light lingered on her face.

The gunman strode forward, keeping his weapon trained on Pitt. “Back against the wall,” he said, illuminating the path with his flashlight.

Ann eased up her crutches and hobbled over to Pitt, then they both stepped to the side wall. A door in the wall led to the backyard, and Pitt gently nudged Ann closer to it as the gunman called to his partner. The second man approached and took up a guard position in front of Ann and Pitt, his gun fixed on them. The other man holstered his weapon, raised his goggles, and used his flashlight to begin searching the lab.

He was thorough, Pitt noted, and he knew what he was looking for. He started by examining the laptops and desk journals Ann had found, then methodically searched the lab itself. It took nearly ten minutes before he returned to the desk and organized the items he wanted. Locating an empty plastic bin, he stuffed it with Heiland’s notes and journals.

Ann huddled close to Pitt, stunned that she was staring down the barrel of a gun for the second time in two days. Anger began to push aside her fear as she saw Heiland’s work being stolen right in front of her. Emptying the desk drawers, the burglar stuffed the contents into the bin, finishing it off with the two laptops.

“Are you done?” the man standing guard asked.

“Almost.” The other man glanced at Ann and Pitt with annoyance. “Stay here with them until I get back.”

He hoisted the bin onto his shoulder and crossed the lab, guided by his flashlight.

A few seconds after he left the room, the guard called out to him, but he received no reply.

Pitt could hear the intruder as he lumbered through the house and exited the front door. He didn’t have to be a psychic to know nothing good would come from his return.