"Hana," Fiona called, running into the infirmary, "we need to get to the main entrance."
"What's going on?" Hana frowned, worry in her eyes.
"Breanna," Fiona said, pulling a gurney toward the passageway, "something happened while they were setting devices, and Bre is unconscious."
"Where are they now?" Hana frowned.
"Five minutes out," Fiona said, punching the lift button.
Hana glanced at her watch, "That means we have three to get to the top and access before she comes down here."
"Then I guess we'd better get moving," Fiona followed Hana into the lift, "Darcia will pay for this."
"Rose," Hana called, "prep for everything."
Rose nodded, moving to the exam room and pulling out instruments and starting machines.
Hana and Fiona arrived as Craig slid to a stop in front of the main entrance.
"Fiona …. Hana … help her," David sputtered as Craig took Breanna from him, placing Breanna on the gurney.
"How has her breathing been?" Hana asked.
"All over the place from panting to shallow to regular," David said, his pale face tight with worry.
"We'll do everything we can for her," Hana said, grasping his arm.
Fiona and Hana stood on opposite sides of the gurney. Rubbing her hands together, Hana held them above Breanna's body, beginning the examination.
"I'm not picking up anything except her lungs seem very tight," Hana said, "Fiona?"
"I'm not picking up anything solid," Fiona frowned, "I don't like the sensation ... there is something but nothing. Darcia is capable of anything, and I think whatever this is will only show itself in a day or two. We'll need to keep an eye on her."
Nodding, Hana sighed, "Activate the signal jammer and let's get her downstairs to do some in-depth testing."
Breanna groaned. Her body ached. She felt as though a thousand vaults had coursed through her. Inhaling deeply, she slowly exhaled while doing an inventory of her body. No broken bones. Her lungs felt like acid had been poured into them, and her body felt leaden.
"She's coming back," a voice whispered, "she will probably still be very groggy, and I've done what I can at the moment to remove the gas from her lungs."
"Take a break, Rose, and then we'll try again later," a male voice spoke, "thanks for your help."
A shuffling noise came to Breanna's sensitive hearing.
"What happened?" Breanna heard her rasping voice speak. "How long have I been out? Where am I?"
"You're in the infirmary," the male voice said, "you blacked out at Darcia's lab."
"I haven't been in Darcia's lab for some time," Breanna whispered, "why was I in Darcia's lab?"
"Do you remember where we were going this morning?"
Breanna pealed her burning eyes open as she frowned, "This morning?"
"Yes, Bre," another male voice spoke, "we went out just before dawn to do a recon on Darcia's secondary laboratory."
"Oh, that must have been fun. Did something happen there?"
"Yes," both men said in unison.
"That would probably explain why I feel like I met with a battering ram," Breanna coughed, trying to sit up.
Two pairs of hands grasped her under her arms, helping her.
"Damn," she moaned, "what happened?"
"You don't remember?"
"Nope," she sighed, scrubbing her hands over her face.
"Okay," the voice on her left sighed, "show her the footage."
"Are you sure?"
"Do it," the voice said, "she needs to know."
A whirring sound vibrated around Breanna. Looking up through a pained vision, she lifted her head toward the screen against the opposite wall.
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Breanna watched from the angle of a head camera lying on the ground a few feet from a group of people. Rapid panting could be heard before her body appeared on the grass; two large hands dragged her under a nearby tree. The cam feed switched.
This one was coming out of the entrance.
Two sets of feet running.
The sound of gunshots.
Her name whispered, then the cam showed they were running.
Craig kneeling next to her unconscious form on the ground. His plea brought tears to her eyes.
David's whispered name swung the cam to where a large group of black-clad, armed persons moved toward the group.
There were clearly too many of them for the three remaining in the group to engage.
"Oh my word," Breanna said from where she sat, "what happened?"
"Keep watching," the voice on her left said, "you'll see exactly what happened."
Breanna watched the armed group moving forward, surrounding them. She saw a form of herself rise from the ground, looking around, then at her flexing hands before becoming fixed, as though she was hypnotised. The ghostly Breanna looked from Clio to David to Craig before turning toward the approaching group. Her arms raised slightly to her sides before jolting her hands forward. The oncoming armed group wavered and crumpled to the ground. Motionless. Breanna watched speechlessly as she turned toward the small group blinked once, sinking once more to her body. She watched herself inhale deeply. Craig scooped her up and started running toward their vehicle.
"What? What was that?" Breanna asked, looking at Craig and David.
"We don't know," David sighed, "but we are very grateful for what you did."
"Rose found some kind of a gene-targeting gas in your lungs," Craig said, "she has been working with you for an hour or two before you woke up."
"Gene targeting? Then why didn't it affect you?" Breanna asked.
"No idea," Craig shook his head, "but I think it could be why you didn't flatten us as well."
"Yep," Clio said, entering the room, "you have always warned us it could be lethal. It was. For that group looking to mow us down without another thought."
"They're dead?" Breanna gasped.
"Yes," Clio nodded, "all of them. I'm with the guys when I say I'm grateful."
"Who were they?" Breanna asked.
"We thought they may have been military," Craig said, "but when the prints were run … we can safely say they are not. We've put together that they were probably Darcia's super-soldiers."
"Super soldiers?" Breanna frowned.
"Yes," David picked up a remote, "we have been able to get a lot of information from the devices we placed."
"These are the faces of the men who were going to kill us," Craig said, "every one of them is so modified they no longer have an original strand of DNA or fingerprint."
"Good heavens," Breanna swung her legs off the table, standing carefully, "were those their actual faces?"
"We don't know," David said, "but they were definitely Darcia's and today, she used them as cannon fodder."
"If these are not their actual faces," Breanna said, "no one will be able to identify them or link them as any of her experiments."
"There is that possibility," Michael said. "The only thing that we will be able to ID them on is their dental records. We're waiting for that to come in," his phone buzzed, "sorry, I have to attend a conference call."
"Is the World Summit still going ahead?" Breanna asked, watching Michael leave the infirmary. The revelations of the moment left her feeling sick and breathless.
"We're not sure," Clio said, "Michael is doing the negotiation. He will advise them of Darcia's escape and request they put the World Summit on hold."
"Right. Those pretentious prigs think they're invincible," Craig muttered.
"That is the truth," David nodded, "still let's hope they listen to reason."
"Why do you ask?" Craig's gaze narrowed on Breanna.
"If the world summit still happens," Breanna said, "and these "super soldiers" are out there, how is anyone going to know who and what they are and where they are?"
"You think Darcia will plant these soldiers at the World Summit?"
"Plant them, integrate them, have them attack, maybe all three," Breanna sighed, "who knows how she will use them."
David muttered a curse, "That woman is insane and arrogant enough to do it."
"We'll need to know the outcome of the talks before we make any kind of decision," Clio muttered.
"Then let's go see what is happening," Breanna said, moving slowly toward the door.
"Are you okay to do this?" Clio asked.
"A coffee and a doughnut will do fine for the moment," Breanna smiled, following Clio from the infirmary.
Michael clenched his hands in frustration the call was not going well. After presenting all their findings, including the possibility of the super soldiers. Still, the men on the other end of the line refused to listen to reason.
"I don't think you understand," Michael tried again, "this woman is perilous. She has no restraint, no morals, and she does not believe in limitations and is the best in her field of genetics. She has manipulated and used her own family members to further her cause. For all your own personal safety, postpone the Summit."
"Your concern is noted," a clipped English voice replied, "but what is to stop her from getting to us even though we are guarded. You said yourself, these super soldiers can be anywhere. We will not bow to intimidation."
"But sir ..."
"The summit will continue as scheduled and planned," the voice continued before the line died.
Anger rolled through her in hot waves. If you wanted a job done the way you wanted it, clearly, you needed to do it yourself.
"What do you mean the information has been viewed and the facility destroyed?" the question came through gritted teeth.
"Our logs show that the information was downloaded and viewed remotely," a cloned technician droned. "The video footage we have been able to view shows that your sister and a small team entered the facility. We are not certain what went wrong after that."
Breathing heavily, Darcia stalked toward the group of technicians she had tasked with containing her sister.
"Explain what went wrong?" her hands clenching into tight fists at her sides.
"We cannot say," one of the technicians spluttered, "we set everything up as instructed. Everything was checked and double-checked. It should have gone off flawlessly."
"Well, it didn't," Darcia screamed, "my sister is not contained, and my secondary facility is destroyed. That is not flawless."
The technicians sidled away from her as the anger rolled like a heatwave around them. Breathing in, Darcia returned to her usual calmness.
"No matter," she said sweetly, "I have other plans now. I think it is time to implement them."
Three bodies sat to one side, working quietly. Three pairs of watchful eyes glanced between each other. A hand moved to tug at a necklace around a muscular neck. Slight twitches of lips and small smiles of success tug at the sides of three pairs of lips. They may not be able to escape, but the retrieval of Breanna would not happen while they were enslaved.