adrenaline was starting to tunnel his awareness. He had to go after Hank alone … with only his laser tool.
He messaged Hank:
I’m coming for you. I’m going into the warehouse. If you aren’t there, you’d better stop me now.
Then he messaged the captain:
I’m going into the warehouse after Hank.
Jax sprinted back down the alley to the back of the building. At the window, he pulled out his laser tool and set the variable laser focus lens to one centimeter and lit the tip. He quickly cut a small circle in the glass.
A message from Hank popped up:
… h#rn … d … 0110 ... dont@ …
Jax dropped below the window to read it. But it was gibberish, jumbled. A mind that was struggling with consciousness could send a message like that. Or a mind that was being tortured.
At least he knew Hank was still alive. He stood back up and wet his fingertips. Using the viscosity of his spit, he brought his fingers close to the glass and let the spit grab onto the glass. Very, very slowly, he pulled his hand back, and the minute suction from the spit tipped the glass out toward himself. He caught the little circle and lowered it down to the ground. Then, using the hole as a handhold, he hopped up onto the ledge of the window and cut another section of glass around the hole, large enough for him to fit through. When the glass came free, he stepped down into the room and set the glass against the wall.
He loped to the partially open door. The opening was just enough for Jax to see a small sliver of the space beyond. The room opened up into a large factory. He saw conveyor belts, racks of boxes, and several printers. Animalis in white coats and hair nets stood in a line, watching wrapped packages of fish on a conveyor belt. Their backs were turned to Jax.
Around the edge of the room was a maze of refrigeration boxes: nine feet high, five feet wide, and twelve feet deep, Jax’s retina monitor told him. Those had to be what was shipped to the restaurants in the area.
Jax didn’t see any guards, or Animalis walking around with weapons, as he had expected. It seemed so normal, like he was intruding on a perfectly legitimate business.
Jax crept out onto the factory floor. He noticed he was holding his breath and began to take in slow, controlled breaths. Jax stayed close to the refrigeration boxes, walking behind the group watching the conveyor belt as he moved through the warehouse. It looked like there was a transport near the front. Now he could see someone else moving. He crouched down and moved over to where a second conveyor belt assembled fish products overhead.
Two hyena Animalis came out of the back of the truck, pushing what Jax recognized as one of the large crates from the plane. They pushed it to the far wall, away from Jax, and went back to the transport for another.
Jax slid underneath the belts, between racks of shelves, under another conveyor belt, and stopped behind the last refrigeration box, two yards from the line of crates the Animalis had brought out. The crates had a superconducting base that floated just above the ground, and had thick plastic covers protecting their contents. Once the two hyenas were back inside the cargo truck, Jax silently moved to the first crate.
There was a menu to interact with the crate in Jax’s monitor, but he knew that might set off an alert somewhere. He’d have to make an incision small enough that it wouldn’t disrupt any electrical equipment in the plastic.
Jax reset his laser to an inch and cut it open on the back. The hyenas stepped onto the walkway coming out of the truck, sending a hollow echo into the warehouse. They were on their way back. He abandoned the crate and ran in a low crouch to the nearest refrigerator.
The two Animalis pulled the crate over to the wall and went back to the transport again. Jax ran back and finished his cut. The piece of plastic fell away to reveal weapons—pistols and rifles. A rush of panic hit Jax—he had
He messaged Hank:
I’m coming for you. I’m going into the warehouse. If you aren’t there, you’d better stop me now.
Then he messaged the captain:
I’m going into the warehouse after Hank.
Jax sprinted back down the alley to the back of the building. At the window, he pulled out his laser tool and set the variable laser focus lens to one centimeter and lit the tip. He quickly cut a small circle in the glass.
A message from Hank popped up:
… h#rn … d … 0110 ... dont@ …
Jax dropped below the window to read it. But it was gibberish, jumbled. A mind that was struggling with consciousness could send a message like that. Or a mind that was being tortured.
At least he knew Hank was still alive. He stood back up and wet his fingertips. Using the viscosity of his spit, he brought his fingers close to the glass and let the spit grab onto the glass. Very, very slowly, he pulled his hand back, and the minute suction from the spit tipped the glass out toward himself. He caught the little circle and lowered it down to the ground. Then, using the hole as a handhold, he hopped up onto the ledge of the window and cut another section of glass around the hole, large enough for him to fit through. When the glass came free, he stepped down into the room and set the glass against the wall.
He loped to the partially open door. The opening was just enough for Jax to see a small sliver of the space beyond. The room opened up into a large factory. He saw conveyor belts, racks of boxes, and several printers. Animalis in white coats and hair nets stood in a line, watching wrapped packages of fish on a conveyor belt. Their backs were turned to Jax.
Around the edge of the room was a maze of refrigeration boxes: nine feet high, five feet wide, and twelve feet deep, Jax’s retina monitor told him. Those had to be what was shipped to the restaurants in the area.
Jax didn’t see any guards, or Animalis walking around with weapons, as he had expected. It seemed so normal, like he was intruding on a perfectly legitimate business.
Jax crept out onto the factory floor. He noticed he was holding his breath and began to take in slow, controlled breaths. Jax stayed close to the refrigeration boxes, walking behind the group watching the conveyor belt as he moved through the warehouse. It looked like there was a transport near the front. Now he could see someone else moving. He crouched down and moved over to where a second conveyor belt assembled fish products overhead.
Two hyena Animalis came out of the back of the truck, pushing what Jax recognized as one of the large crates from the plane. They pushed it to the far wall, away from Jax, and went back to the transport for another.
Jax slid underneath the belts, between racks of shelves, under another conveyor belt, and stopped behind the last refrigeration box, two yards from the line of crates the Animalis had brought out. The crates had a superconducting base that floated just above the ground, and had thick plastic covers protecting their contents. Once the two hyenas were back inside the cargo truck, Jax silently moved to the first crate.
There was a menu to interact with the crate in Jax’s monitor, but he knew that might set off an alert somewhere. He’d have to make an incision small enough that it wouldn’t disrupt any electrical equipment in the plastic.
Jax reset his laser to an inch and cut it open on the back. The hyenas stepped onto the walkway coming out of the truck, sending a hollow echo into the warehouse. They were on their way back. He abandoned the crate and ran in a low crouch to the nearest refrigerator.
The two Animalis pulled the crate over to the wall and went back to the transport again. Jax ran back and finished his cut. The piece of plastic fell away to reveal weapons—pistols and rifles. A rush of panic hit Jax—he had
Similar Books
