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it was better than a machine.
    “This is Colonel Dobson, ID eight-four-five-seven-nine. I need you to give me the number, then connect me to Garrett. No matter where he is.”
    Little Miss Happy didn’t dally. Must have been a military brat.
    The line rang.
    Dobson had sample Zero. With enough plasma and a core sample of her
ulysiss
gland, he could get the virus retrofitted into an airborne stage. That was the only way this was going to work. Beijing proved that. There were just too many survivors from trying to deliver it by direct contact and because of that Mount Everest-sized fuck up, Dobson was still dealing with the clean-up thirty years later.
    Six rings and it clicked to voice mail. Dobson hung up and dialed again.
    You’d think the Triads would be grateful for the ninety percent kill ratio. How the hell was Dobson supposed to know having a fifteen percent DNA complement with wyrms would kill just as quick as a pure-bred? Wasn’t his fault they didn’t do a better job screening members. You’d think they’d appreciate the clean slate. Preservation of the Human race and all that.
    The voice mail clicked on again. That asshole was avoiding his calls. Dobson punched in the priority code and heard the beep-beep of the push-to-talk override.
    “I know you’re there, Garrett. I can hear your Senior Special Agent status echoing all over my holding facility.”
    “Good afternoon, Colonel Dobson. I was just standing here speaking to one of your guards. Seems he can’t find the key code to open the cell you’re holding my Agent in.” The echo disappeared which meant he’d switched the walkie-talkie off. “Misunderstandings do happen.”
    Arrogant bastard.
    “Way I hear it, your Agent was getting busy with my prisoner. I told you, Garrett. You cannot take the animal out of the forest, dress it up, and expect it to do anything but dump your trash and shit on your rug.” He stood up, looked out the window and resisted the urge to motivate the pilot by putting a hole in the co-pilots head.
    Never know when you’re gonna need a spare.
    “As you know, Colonel, Haley Night is Kin. The whole ‘touchy-feely’ thing is Kin. It’s their nature. I saw the video tape--”
    “Did you see all of it?”
    “I saw enough of it to know she handled this interview like any other. If nothing else, she was conservative.”
    Conservative?
Dobson stared at the phone. The cigar in his mouth rolled from right to left. Garrett said something, but he missed it. He was too busy trying to think of who he could call to hang his ass out to dry.
    But the truth was, Garrett also had connections. Mr. Senior Special Agent of the monster squad somehow kept blocking any and all of Dobson’s attempts to get Haley moved to I-O status. With I-O status, Dobson would be in charge of her miserable hide, and that meant if he wanted to make her disappear he could.
    Dobson put the phone back to his ear. “Garrett, get out of my building.”
    “Not without my Agent.”
    “Do not start this pissing contest with me, soldier. You will not win.”
    “Colonel, with all due respect, Haley is property of the CFKR. And I’m the head of the CFKR. Last time I checked, my branch of the Bureau is completely separate from any and all military I-O operations. While you may have jurisdiction over the vast majority of Bureau affairs, this isn’t one of them. You know it. I know it. And the Bureau knows it. So you have two options here. You can either release my Agent to me, or I’m going to make a phone call.” His voice went dangerous. “And you will not like the results of that call.”
    Cursing, Dobson slung the satellite phone and sent it careening into the wet bar.

Chapter 4
     
    Haley had the distinct feeling she was falling and came awake with a start.
    If she had been falling, it was too late to stop it because the concrete floor was kissing the side of her head. She waited a moment, trying to get the feel of her body and assess the damage. There was