Trouble in Paradise

by kgmohror

Connor and Abby are assigned their first solo mission - to aid the U.S. government when an anomaly appears in Florida.

TROUBLE IN PARADISE

CHAPTER 1

Noah Davis tightened his lap belt and settled himself more comfortably into his seat in the Time Rover as the restraint bar lowered into his lap. He glanced down to make sure Gannon was secure beside him. His five-year-old son was learning forward eagerly, waiting for the ride to begin. They were lucky to have gotten the front row of the transport, Noah thought, and also that the persistent drizzle outside had discouraged the masses of tourists from visiting Animal Kingdom this day. In fact, Noah and Gannon shared their rover with only two other people, a couple of teenaged boys who had taken seats in the back row of the machine.

Noah slid his right arm around Gannon's small shoulders as the vehicle lurched forward out of the "Dino Institute" toward the swinging doors that signaled the start of the ride. He hoped the experience wouldn't be too intense for his small son. Though not yet in school, Gannon was a dinosaur fanatic. As the two of them made their way through the "staging area" to get on the ride, the boy had pointed out and named all the dinosaur fossils and models arranged to give visitors a distraction while they waited in line. Noah had ridden "Dinosaur!" a few times before, but it had been several years. He remembered being impressed by the animatronic prehistoric creatures, and wondered if the ride had been updated since then.

So far, the ride seemed familiar. As Seeker, the "scientist" who narrated the ride, reminded them of their important mission to save a lost Iguanodon, the Time Rover pushed through the big double doors and passed into the "time tunnel." The coils of red lights that surrounded them made Noah think of riding through a broiler oven. Seconds later they emerged into a dark, foggy environment meant to represent the Cretaceous era, 65 million years ago.

As the first mechanic creature, which Seeker's computer helpfully identified as a Styracosaurus, emerged out of the gloom, Noah looked at Gannon again. Far from being frightened, the little boy seemed enthralled. His eyes were wide with excitement as the Time Rover brought a parade of amazing, long-extinct creatures to life around him. Though he was happy to see his boy so excited, Noah's own enjoyment was marred by the increasingly raucous behavior of the teens behind them. Even though the soundtrack of dinosaur vocalizations and Seeker's narration were quite loud, Noah clearly heard the young men's profanity-laced commentary. They were clearly unimpressed with the ride's effects, and expressed their opinion with typical teenage vulgarity. Fortunately, Gannon was too absorbed in the sights and sounds around him to notice.

By the time their vehicle was approaching the climax of the ride, the encounter with the fearsome Carnosaurus, Noah had had just about had enough of the teens' performance. But as he started to turn to give them a piece of his mind, something ahead of them suddenly caught his eye. He did not remember this effect, which began as a pinprick of light in the darkness, then grew into a swirling, orange cloud of what appeared to be shards of glass. Noah had never seen anything like it before. As the Time Rover drew close, he heard Gannon gasp. "Wow!" the boy exclaimed. Noah felt a warm breeze emanating from the glow. He squinted into it, seeing as though through a wavering plastic film a vast, grassy plain, like an African savanna. In the distance was a herd of what appeared to be enormous, lumbering creatures. Noah craned to get a closer look – then jerked backward, pulling Gannon toward him as several other creatures raced past the opening, almost close enough to touch. He caught just a glimpse of them as they thundered by, perhaps a dozen of them, and turned toward the slow-moving herd. Then the front of the Time Rover moved past the shimmering portal.

Gannon had already turned back to the front to see what wonders were still ahead when Noah heard a blood-curling shriek from behind them. He and Gannon whirled in their seats to see an enormous, reptilian head emerge from the swirling cloud. With frightening speed its jaws snapped open, swooped downward, then closed again over the torso of one of the teenage riders in the back of the vehicle. It pulled the thrashing boy back through the hole and vanished as the other boy, screaming, twisted out from under the restraining bar and leapt from the Time Rover. Noah saw him roll over the track, stumble to his feet and run into the darkness. The whole thing took but an instant, and the Time Rover moved on toward the end of its course as if nothing had happened. "Daddy! Did you see that?" Gannon's eyes were saucers.

Noah felt his heart pounding in his ears. He couldn't believe what he'd just seen. It had to be a special effect… The boys must be actors. That was the only possible explanation. But it had seemed incredibly real. Abruptly Noah's shock transformed into anger. Gannon was crying, huddled up against his father. What the hell were these people thinking of, including something to brutal and horrifying in a ride that kids would be on? He hugged Gannon and spoke comfortingly to him as the ride went on and on. Finally, as Seeker announced the successful rescue of the lost Iguanodon, the Time Rover pulled into the disembarking area. Noah was shouting at the ride attendant before the vehicle even came to a stop.

"Are you people crazy?" he yelled. "My kid is traumatized! You think it's fun for a five-year-old to see that?"

The attendant, himself only a teenage boy, stared at Noah like he'd gone crazy. "Calm down, sir. Tell me what happened," he sputtered. Before Noah could answer, the attendant's face went slack in shock. Noah looked back to see the kid who had jumped from their vehicle come stumbling out of the darkness. He was covered with blood. His eyes were wild with terror. "My friend is dead! He's dead!" the kid shrieked. "Some kind of monster … it grabbed him … it took him!" Suddenly the boy's eyes rolled upward, his knees buckled and he pitched face forward on the tracks.

CHAPTER 2

Connor temple sat at a table in a quiet corner of the ARC's employee cafeteria, hunched over his laptop. He held a half-eaten cheese sandwich in his left hand while he pecked at the keyboard with the index finger of his right. This was the first calm moment he'd found in weeks to update his case files, and he was absorbed in recording every details of the ARC team's most recent encounters with creatures millions of years out of their own times.

Connor believed his meticulous record-keeping would someday prove an invaluable record of the ARC's work, a historical artifact of one of the most important missions ever undertaken. It would also be a useful reference for the screenplay he planned to write once this was all over and the story could finally be made public. Connor envisioned an epic adventure film, perhaps with Shia LeBeouf or Robert Patterson in the pivotal role of the brilliant young paleontology grad student whose stroke of genius solves the riddle of the anomalies and saved the world. At least, that's how Connor imagined it going down.

If nothing else, his database was a chronicle of all that had happened to Connor since the day he told Professor Cutter about something strange spotted in the Forest of Dean …

It was hard to believe that was barely three years ago. In that short span, Connor had experienced wonders enough to fill several lifetimes. He'd battled giant, ancient insects in the deep recesses of the London Underground, been pursued by a velociraptor in a shopping centre and corralled a mastodon on the M5. But, even with all that, the most amazing thing that had ever happened to Connor Temple had just entered the canteen and was headed straight for him.

"Hey, Abby," Connor said as she sat down across from him. The sound of her name was beautiful to him — along with everything else about her.

"Hey," she said, smiling.

"I haven't seen you all day," Connor said, hoping he didn't sound too needy.

"I've been holed up in the lab, running some tests on our Dracorex friend," she said, stabbing into her salad with relish.

"Yeah? How's old Pete doing?"

"Pete?" She raised a quizzical eyebrow.

Connor grinned. "You know, like Pete the Dragon. I loved that film when I was a kid." He took a quick bite of sandwich. "Of course, the FX are a little dated now, but they were brilliant in their time."

Abby looked blank for a moment. Then recognition lit her lovely features. "Oh, you mean Pete's Dragon. Pete was the kid, not the dragon."

He shrugged. "Whatever."

"But that's a bit like mixing up Dr. Frankenstein with the flat-headed monster he created," Abby persisted. "And anyway, he's a prehistoric creature, not a mythical beast."

"Sir William didn't seem too concerned about the difference," Connor answered, conjuring a memory of the fierce warrior who had followed the creature from his time to this. He had threatened Abby, and Connor was haunted by his helplessness, at that moment, to protect her. It bothered him a bit, too, to know with certainty that if he had been armed like Becker was, he wouldn't have hesitated to shoot the confused time traveler. There was nothing he wouldn't do for Abby Maitland. But she was safe now. Safe, and grinning at him.

"Yeah, but he was a 15th century knight, not a 21st century scientist," she chided.

He grinned back. "Point taken. So … how is old Pete doing?"

She rolled her eyes and tossed a crouton at him. "Recovering nicely, thank you. My blood tests have shown some remarkable regenerative properties."

Connor leaned on his elbows and feigned fascination. "Really? Tell me about it."

As Abby launched into a detailed explanation of the creature's extraordinary blood chemistry, Connor savored his own chemical reaction — the delicious cocktail of neurotransmitters that cascaded through his brain whenever he was close to this woman. Connor didn't understand the complex interactions of dopamine, serotonin and norepinephrine he was experiencing … but it didn't take a Nobel laureate to figure out why he felt so damned good when he was around her: Connor was crazy in love with Abby — had been practically since the day he met her.

He wouldn't tell her that, of course. Not again. Once, in a moment of crisis, he had bared his heart to her a million years in the future on the rocky shore of an unknown sea. But only moments after he saved her life, he overheard her tell a stranger that he wasn't her boyfriend. That was enough to shift Mr. Temple into back-pedal mode. His worst fear was that, knowing how he felt about her, Abby would pull away and he'd lose even her precious friendship. So he'd kept his feelings to himself ever since, praying that some day she might begin to see him as more than the slightly bumbling genius … more than a flatmate … more than a pal.

It had seemed like an impossible dream for so long. But lately, Connor had begun to hope that he was winning her over. Especially since he'd moved out of the flat to make room for her brother Jack, it seemed to Connor that Abby had been warmer toward him. She smiled more often, laughed at his bad jokes, even sought him out here at the ARC, as she'd done today.

Of course, it could just be wishful thinking on his part. But she had taken his hand to help her staunch the Dracorex's bleeding wound. Connor could still feel her small, warm hand pressing down on his, her slender fingers curling gently around his palm …

Reveling in the memory, Connor surreptitiously let his gaze wander over her slim form. She was definitely fit — in every sense of the word. Her martial arts training, not to mention the strenuous nature of their work, accounted for the lean muscle under her pale, supple skin. His gaze lingered affectionately on her pert little nose, with its dusting of freckles, before lifting slightly to look into her eyes. Ahhhh. He could lose himself in those beautiful pools of sparkling blue … pools that seemed suddenly to be getting smaller. He snapped his attention back and discovered Abby staring at him narrowly.

"Are you even listening to me?" She reached across the table with a napkin in hand to dab at the corner of his mouth. "Ew! Is that drool? What the hell, Connor?"

At such moments, Connor could only curse his own fair English complexion—which at the moment was growing a rather florid pink. "Um, am I?" he stammered. "Err …they're frying chips in the snack bar. Can't you smell them?" He managed a weak smile. "You know how I love chips."

She looked decidedly skeptical, but he was spared from any further explanation when a crisp, professional female voice suddenly spoke through the intercom speaker in the ceiling above them.

"Connor Temple and Abby Maitland, please report to James Lester's office immediately."

Connor noticed heads swiveling toward them as the intercom repeated its directive. Abby was looking at him accusingly.

"Connor Temple, what did you do?"

Feeling slightly panicked, he stammered. "Nothing! I mean, I don't think I've done anything …"

"What about Sid and Nancy," Abby suggested as the pair carried their trays to the drop-off area. "Did you let them get into Lester's underwear cupboard again?"

Connor shook his head. "No. They're safely penned up in the menagerie." He coughed slightly and then murmured under his breath, "I hope."

Like truant youngsters summoned to the headmaster's office, Connor and Abby shuffled tentatively into their supervisor's gleaming, impeccably tidy office. The man himself, similarly well turned out, was reading a document in a manila folder on his desk. He gestured for them to sit without looking up. They sat. After nearly a full minute of silence that felt like hours, Lester closed the folder before him and turned his attention to his visitors.

"Ah," he said. "And how are the charter members of the Junior Explorers Club doing this afternoon?" This might have been what passed for a joke from the director, but Connor couldn't be sure, so he kept his expression neutral. Abby finally spoke up for the both of them.

"You wanted to see us?"

"The Minister has been contacted by a top official at the Pentagon," Lester began without preliminaries. "As you know, the occurrence of anomalies has been suspected in America for some time, but the first confirmed incursion has just been reported."

He opened the file again and withdrew a photo, which he placed in front of the pair. Connor peered at it closely, trying to make out the location, but the background was dark … only the familiar helix of jagged golden shards of light were visible in the center of the frame. "Where is this?" he asked, "A cave?"

Lester retrieved the photo and tucked it back in the folder. "Sadly, no. That would be a good deal more convenient. In fact, that photo was taken by a tourist on an amusement park attraction in Florida."

"Cool!" Connor blurted impulsively.

"Oh, my God," Abby gasped at the same time. "Was anyone hurt?"

"I'm afraid so," Lester said, shooting a disapproving glance at Connor. "One teenager apparently killed, another left quite traumatized."

"Oh," Connor said, chastened. "That's bad."

"Bad is rather an understatement, Mr. Temple. As you know, it has been a continuing challenge for us here in Britain to keep the public from discovering what we're dealing with and panicking. Imagine the Americans' dilemma. It would be awkward indeed if a raptor disemboweled Mickey Mouse in front of a bunch of toddlers."

"That is a problem, but what's it got to do with us?" Abby asked.

"Our allies have requested our help," Lester answered, adding, "I hope the two of you haven't made any plans for the next couple of weeks."

Connor grinned. "No way! You're sending us Stateside?" His face clouded. "Can you get along without us, though? What if another anomaly opens?"

"Fortunately, we seem to be experiencing a bit of a lull in that department," Lester answered. "And whatever might develop, I'm sure Captain Becker and former Detective Constable Quinn can manage without your able assistance." Connor thought he detected just a hint of a smirk on Lester's face as he said that. "As for the technology systems, well, they more or less run themselves by now, don't they?"

Connor shrugged, the thrilling prospect of traveling to America having blunted the sting of Lester's dismissive tone. "Right! When do we leave?"

Abby seemed less enthused. "Surely the world's greatest superpower has the weaponry to handle whatever comes through."

"Armaments, yes," Lester responded. "But not expertise. We've been at this for a while now, and the Americans are requesting assistance in setting up their own version of the ARC and getting their operations up to speed." He directed his attention to Connor. "Per order of the Minister, you are to be seconded to Patrick Air Force Base in Florida to advise their experts on construction of a detector array and anomaly locking unit."

"And what's my role in this?" Abby asked, still looking sour.

"To keep this one out of trouble, mostly," Lester said, cocking his head toward Connor without cracking a smile. "I believe they are also interested in how we have arranged our holding facilities."

"I'm not military, and there's no way I'm helping them experiment on helpless creatures."

"Not a big fan of the Yanks, I take it," said Lester.

"I don't dislike all Americans," she said testily, "Just the ones whose motto is shoot first and ask questions later."

"Nevertheless," Lester answered, a bit sternly, "we all have our orders. The Minister has ordered me to send you, and I'm ordering you to go."

Stealing a sidelong glance that told him she was still frowning, Connor leaned over and gave her a playful shove. "Come on, Abby," he cajoled. "It'll be brilliant! The sun, the beach, the crazy, sexy nightlife …"

"May I remind you that this is a working trip," Lester interrupted. "You'll be there to do a job, get it done with maximum efficiency and get back here."

"Oh, sure, yeah," Connor mumbled absently. In his mind, he was already on a beach in Florida, watching Abby in a string bikini, running toward him across the sand like Bo Derek in that old movie.

Noting his glazed look, Abby sighed. "I suppose it's just as well I go along to keep this one on the straight and narrow," she said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"Yes, do try to prevent him causing more than one international incident a day," Lester said drily. Abby stifled a chuckle, but Connor was too deep in his romantic reverie to notice.

CHAPTER 3

Less than a week later, Connor and Abby were negotiating the congested concourse of Orlando International Airport on their way to baggage claim. Abby was outfitted unobtrusively in light khaki capris and a pale green knit top. Connor, on the other hand, had dressed to make an impression: tight black jeans, a bright pink tee, white linen jacket and dark shades.

"You know, you look just like a famous celebrity," Abby remarked as they walked side by side, pulling their carry-ons behind them.

"Thanks!" He glanced at her over the rims of his shades.

"Don Johnson … circa 1985," she smirked.

"Hey! Don't laugh," he protested. "This is how everybody in Miami dresses."

"Um, number one, we're not in Miami," she reminded him. "And number two … no, they don't."

He glanced around him at the teeming crowds, then pulled off his sunglasses and tucked them into the front pocket of his carry on. "I guess my plan to avoid suspicion by blending in with the natives isn't entirely successful," he admitted ruefully.

"I think I might be able to help with that," Abby said, stepping out of the lanes of foot traffic.

"Yeah?" he said, stopping beside her.

"Mmm hmm." She unsnapped the large tote she had slung over one shoulder and began rummaging in it. "I picked this up in one of the souvenir shops while you were in the loo. I was saving it for later, but you've been a good boy, so you can have it now … aha!" She pulled her hand out of the bag and triumphantly held up her prize: a black felt beanie with a familiar pair of round ears attached. The word Connor was embroidered in gold script around the rim.

Connor stared, dumbfounded. "Wow," he said finally. "That's … that's … just … AWESOME!" He grinned broadly as he plucked it from her fingers and plopped it on his head.

"Connor!" Abby laughed, "It's a joke! You're not really going to wear that thing!"

He shrugged. "When in Rome, as they say!" He knew he looked naff, but he would have put on Minnie Mouse's polka-dot party dress to see her eyes sparkling up at him that way.

She reached up and tugged at one plastic ear, pulling the cap slightly askew on his head. "Actually, you look quite distinguished," she teased. Before he could respond, she grabbed the handle of her pull-along and darted back into the surging sea of pedestrians. Laughing, he followed.

In a few moments, the two Brits were gliding down the long escalator to the baggage claim area. Stepping off, Connor quickly surveyed the scene: more crowds milling around at least eight large luggage carousels. "I never know which of these things is the right one," Connor muttered, glancing around for a screen to tell him which of the clanking contraptions was matched to their flight number. "It's like playing roulette, except even when you win, the only prize is a slightly battered suitcase."

"Never mind that," Abby said, tapping his arm. "I think they've sent a welcoming party." She gestured at a striking woman standing a short distance away. Tall and slender, she was clearly military — the precise tailoring of her crisp white uniform blouse and slim blue skirt subtly emphasized the neat curves of her figure. A short fringe of copper-colored bang peeked out from under her garrison cap. Her features were elegant and refined: high, sculpted cheek bones, a thin, aquiline nose and surprisingly lush red lips.

Unconsciously, Connor whistled under his breath. Abby gave him a dirty look and a sharp elbow dig to the ribs. "Ow!" he exclaimed. His yelp caught the attention of the officer, who looked at them, glanced quickly at a clipboard in her hand, and finally back to Connor and Abby. Then the woman smiled and strode toward the slightly disheveled travelers.

"You must be Dr. Temple and Ms. Maitland," she said, extending a hand first to Connor, then to Abby. "I'm Lt. Michaels, director of the project you'll be working on. Welcome to America!"

"Mister."

The lieutenant looked at Abby. "Excuse me?"

"It's MISTER Temple," Abby responded, a little frostily. "You called him doctor just now. He isn't."

"Oh … I'm terribly sorry," the officer stammered, clearly flustered by Abby's tone. "After reviewing your brilliant work, Mr. Temple, I just assumed you held an advanced degree."

"Why not just call me Connor?" he answered, flashing her one of his warm smiles. He cocked his head toward his companion. "And this is Abby."

"Thank you," Lt. Michaels said, giving him a grateful look. "And feel free to call me Traci. We'll be working very closely over the next few weeks, after all. I expect we'll get to know each other well."

She glanced at her watch. "I'm sorry we don't have time to stop for a bite to eat, but I'm expected at a briefing on the base in 90 minutes," she said. "However, I took the liberty of ordering a couple of sandwiches for you to eat on the way. Roast beef sandwich for you, Connor, and a veggie sub for you, Abby."

"You knew I was a vegetarian?" Abby asked.

Traci nodded. "I received full dossiers on the both of you. We want to make sure you are as comfortable as possible while you're with us." She turned her attention to Connor. "We might even find time to visit one of our famous theme parks. I gather you're a fan," she said, glancing at the top of his head as a slight smile tugged at her lips.

Realization hit Connor and he snatched the Mickey Mouse ears from his head, tucking it under his arm — a little too roughly, as one of the plastic ears snapped off with a loud crack.

"We'll just collect our luggage and go through customs," Abby began.

"No need," Traci interrupted her. "Your luggage and equipment were retrieved and secured as soon as your plane landed."

"And customs?" Abby asked.

"Also expedited," Traci said. "Your full security clearance exempts you from the usual processes."

"That's a relief," Connor said. "I always hate it when the inspectors open my case and fondle me delicates."

Traci laughed, a delightful, bell-like sound. "Last year I tried to bring my Great-aunt Sophie's ashes back from Helsinki in a pickle jar. Confiscated at the border. Three weeks later, I get the pickle jar back — washed — and a note of condolence from the Department of Homeland Security."

"My God, that's terrible!" Abby exclaimed.

Traci shrugged. "I suppose. I never knew Aunt Sophie, but I've heard she was a great practical joker. She probably would have found it funny."

Connor and Abby exchanged glances as their host led them out the exit and into a warm, humid Florida afternoon.

"Don't suppose we'll be riding in a humvee?" Connor asked hopefully.

Traci shook her head. "Escort."

"Military escort?" Connor beamed.

She laughed. "Ford Escort. Sorry, Mr. – Connor. But I'll see what I can do about getting you into something more exciting sometime while you're here."

"I hadn't expected to see so much undeveloped land outside the Everglades," Abby commented, watching the tangled growth of trees, vines and tall grasses flash by on both sides of the 528 expressway. "Looks like enough habitat to support a substantial wildlife population."

Traci nodded. "Florida has quite a variety of critters," she commented. "Plenty of smaller mammals, of course, like possum, rabbits, foxes. Lots of snakes, including half a dozen or so venomous species. Pythons aren't native, but have been introduced by collectors and are becoming a problem in the Everglades. There are a few large predators — black bear and panther — but they're pretty rare." She pointed to a sign standing in the ditch ahead. It bore a warning in large, red letters: "CAUTION!" above a drawing of a reptile. "That's the beast you really have to watch out for," she commented. "Practically every ditch has an alligator or two. They can be pretty terrifying; some are up to 14 feet long."

Connor glanced back at Abby; she looked back at him. Then they both burst out laughing.

"What?" Traci asked, bewildered.

"Sorry," Connor gasped. "It's just that compared to what we're used to, a 14-foot reptile is like a … toy."

Traci gave him a quick glance and shook her head. "I've read the reports sent over from the ARC, but it's still hard to believe. I can't even imagine what it's like to come face to face with a 200 million year old predator."

"I hope you never have to find out," Connor answered.

"Will we be staying right at Patrick Air Force Base?" came Abby's voice from the backseat.

"No, there aren't civilian accommodations on base. We've got guest housing at Cocoa Beach."

"I like the sound of that!" Connor said.

Moments later Traci pulled into a small parking lot facing a row of modest but modern bungalows. She pulled a set of keys from her pocketbook and led Connor and Abby to the front door of the house. "Nothing fancy, but I think you'll be comfortable," she said as they entered.

The floorplan was open in the style of many beach homes — a living room that flowed into a dining area and small galley kitchen. "Bathroom and bedrooms down the hall," Traci said, but Connor's attention had been drawn to the set of glass doors at the front of the living room. Outside, a stretch of gently rolling dunes led to the Atlantic, perhaps 50 yards away. He slid the door open and stepped out onto the patio, which ran the length of the house. Two more glass doors were visible, apparently opening from each of the bedrooms.

"Uh, oh," Connor said, returning to the living room. "I can see that it's definitely going to take more than two weeks to get your systems up and running."

Traci looked concerned. "Something with the climate here? Too hot? Too humid?"

Connor grinned. "Too AWESOME. I don't expect to be in a beachfront condo again any time soon, so I intend to make the most of it!"

Traci laughed. "Well, you can take that up with General Patterson when you meet him tomorrow. I'll warn you, though; the general has a distinct preference for brisk efficiency."

Abby wandered back into the room. "How far are we from the base?"

"About eight miles. We've arranged for a loaner car for you to use while you're here; I'll take you through the paperwork and get you the keys tomorrow." She glanced at her watch. "I wish I could show you around the area, but I'm expected back on base. I'll be back tomorrow by 0800 hours to take you to the base. Does that work?"

Connor and Abby nodded their assessment. After Traci departed, Connor turned to Abby with a mischievous look. "So what you do want to do now? Skinny dipping in the surf?"

"Ha! I just want to eat something and go to bed. That veggie sandwich didn't stay with me long." She pulled the refrigerator door open and frowned to see the empty shelves staring back at her. A quick check of the cupboards revealed they were similarly barren. "Great. Apparently they don't expect us to eat much while we're here."

"Nobody eats in Florida. It's how they keep their bikini bods," Connor offered. "Fortunately, I happened to notice a fine restaurant serving exquisite ethnic cuisine within walking distance."

"Ethnic cuisine?"

"Oh, yeah," he assured her. "International House of Pancakes. Shall we?" Her laughter was all the answer he needed.

CHAPTER 4

As promised, Traci arrived promptly at 8:00 am the next morning to take them to Patrick Air Force Base. Immediately upon passing through the tightly monitored gates, Connor and Abby were issued their security passes and spent the next 45 minutes filling out various forms and waivers. Then Traci took them to the auto pool. Connor tried to hide his disappointment when he was handed the keys to a rather staid sedan. "No convertibles?" he asked hopefully.

Traci gave him a sympathetic look. "Sorry. Government issue doesn't tend to be very flashy. But remember, I promised to get you into something a little racier before you leave." She gave him a quick wink.

Finally, Traci led them into a new-looking building. It housed an expansive lab, gleaming with high tech equipment. "This is where we'll be working on the detection and locking systems, Connor," she explained. Connor stared like a kid in a candy shop. He looked at Traci. "Very, very cool."

Even Abby, who was generally bored by gadgetry, looked impressed. "No expense spared, I can see."

Traci nodded, clearly proud of the set-up. "The animal containment facility where you'll be working is just as state-of-the-art," she said.

"I'm more concerned with how humane it is," Abby muttered, but Traci had already turned again to Connor.

"I think you'll find everything you need to create the detectors and lock-down apparatus, based on the specs we received," she said. "If you find there's anything missing, just let me know. I'll make sure you get it."

"Thanks. It seems very well-equipped." Connor wandered to the far end of the room, where there was a door with a security keypad on the wall next to it. A sign on the door read, "Level 1 Security Clearance ONLY."

"Not the storage closet, I gather," Connor remarked.

"Not exactly." Traci tapped a sequence into the security keypad. The door clicked and she pulled it open, gesturing for Connor and Abby to follow her in.

They found themselves in a room about the size of a handball court. The entire chamber was painted stark white, except for a faint grid that covered the walls, floor and ceiling.

"Okaaay," Connor said, gazing around him. "This is … what?"

"Looks like an operating theatre, without the table and equipment," Abby remarked. She gasped suddenly and turned to Traci. "Is this a dissection lab?" she demanded. "Is this where you plan to experiment on anything you might capture from an anomaly?"

Traci seemed taken aback. "God, no," she said. "It's for training. Let me show you." She opened a recessed locker in the wall and pulled out a pair of helmets. She handed them to Abby and Connor. "You'll need to put these on."

Connor did as told. The helmet featured a filtered visor that pulled down and covered almost the wearer's entire face. Viewed through the visor, the grid appeared to glow a phosphorescent green. Traci touched something on the side of the helmet and Connor felt a sudden tingle like static electricity crackle across his scalp.

"Stand still right here," Traci instructed. "I'll be in the control room right outside. You'll be able to hear me through the comm. system." She slipped back through the door and closed it behind her.

"You don't think this is some kind of torture chamber, do you?" Abby whispered with a nervous-sounding chuckle.

"Hang on to your hats!" came Traci's voice. Connor heard a sudden hum inside his helmet, the grid glowed a brighter green around him … and suddenly the room was full of dinosaurs.

CHAPTER 5

They were standing in a field of tall grass, surrounded by a herd of grazing Iguanodons. The massive beasts snuffled noisily as they rooted among the foliage.

"Holy cow!" Connor exclaimed. "It's a holodeck!"

"A what?" Abby's voice, muffled by her visor, said.

"Not quite up to Star Trek standards, but we're getting close," Traci answered.

Suddenly the creatures around them lifted their heads simultaneously and froze.

"What's going —" Connor began, but his voice was drowned out by a deafening trumpeting sound from the Iguanodons as the entire herd began to stampede. Unable to get out of their way in time, both Connor and Abby flinched reflexively as the creatures charged — and passed right through them.

"Look to your right!" shouted Tracie's disembodied voice above the din.

Her command was unnecessary, as a roar drew their attention that way. Through a gap in the distant tree-line, another creature emerged. Connor recognized it as a Giganotosaurus — a creature he'd had an uncomfortable encounter with not long before. As the immense dino bore down on them, Connor fought an intense urge to turn tail and run. "It's just a hologram," he repeated to himself like a mantra. He suddenly felt Abby's hand on his forearm, gripping ever more tightly as the beast got closer. One more giant step and it would be upon them … then there was a flash and the glowing green grid surrounded them again.

Connor pulled off his helmet. "Whooee!" he exulted. "That was intense!" Abby had her helmet off, too, and stood beside him, breathing heavily.

The door opened and Traci appeared, grinning. "Cool, huh?"

"Very convincing," Abby remarked, walking past her and back into the lab. "What's it for?"

"We use it to train our field team on what to expect and how to react if they ever face the real thing."

"And do the creatures bleed like the real thing when your team shoots them?" Abby said.

Connor was shocked — and embarrassed — by Abby's hostile tone. But Traci didn't seem offended.

"I think you have the wrong idea about what we're doing here," she said calmly. "Even though this is a military installation, our aims are the same as yours at the ARC. We want to keep creatures from coming into our time if we can, send them back where they came from whenever possible if we can't, contain them humanely if that fails and — only as a last resort — use deadly force if needed to protect the community."

"Glad to hear it," Abby said, sounding something less than entirely convinced.

"So what's next on the tour?" Connor asked quickly.

Traci glanced at her watch. "Quick briefing with the top brass, I'm afraid.

The conference room Traci led them to next looked like something out of a war movie. There was an enormous, oval conference table surrounded by chairs … and a grim-looking, crisply uniformed military man sat in every one of them, except the three left empty for them. Connor snuck a quick glance at Abby as they took their seats. He wondered if she felt as intimidated as he did.

Introductions followed. The group included a variety of tactical officers, security specialists and weapons analysts. At the head of the table sat the top man, cool and unsmiling: General William Patterson.

"I'd like to get straight down to business," the general said. "What can you tell us about this phenomenon that occurred at the park? Is it going to happen again?"

"If you're lucky, it may have been a one-off event," Connor said.

"I've learned not to depend on luck, Mr. Temple. What's the worst-case scenario?"

Connor looked as if he were about to deliver bad news.

He was.

"We've found that anomalies tend to occur in clusters. Often there's a period of activity — a cycle of manifestation — during which anomalies open and close and open again, not necessarily in the same spot, but in the same general vicinity."

The general frowned. "And just how long do these … cycles … last?"

"It varies," Connor answered. "Sometimes hours or even minutes. Other times it can last days or longer. We've encountered at least one anomaly that is, as far as we know, still active more than a year after it was discovered."

"As far as you know?"

"Before we developed the technology to lock the anomalies, we had to use a rather primitive means to isolate the phenomena," Connor explained. "Basically, we sealed it inside several tons of concrete." Connor had a quick flashback to that particular anomaly … of running almost blindly into that shimmering vortex to rescue the woman he loved from the distant future's Mer-creatures who had dragged her out of her own time into theirs. He cast a quick glance at Abby; the expression on her face told him she was remembering, too.

"Burying a world-famous theme park in concrete doesn't seem like a good option," General Patterson growled.

"Those long-lasting anomalies seem to be rare, though," Connor hastened to reassure him. "It's typically the singular events. They're bigger and apparently more stable than the cluster type. Also, we've found that locking down the anomalies seems to terminate the cycle."

Patterson grunted. "So is there any way to predict when and where these things are going to show up?"

"I wish," Connor said wryly. "It would make scheduling mini-breaks a lot easier."

The general was not amused. He scowled at Connor, who felt a sudden jab of resentment. It seemed like he, and by extension the whole ARC operation, was being judged. Judged … and found wanting.

"We're working on it, though," Connor said hurriedly, feeling pressured to defend himself and the ARC. "Professor Cutter had the idea to plot out known and suspected anomaly occurrences through history, to see if a pattern might reveal itself."

"Who's this Professor Cutter?" General Patterson barked.

"He was my professor at university," Connor said, startled by the general's tone. "A brilliant man. He assembled the ARC team when the anomalies started turning up three years ago."

"So why am I not talking to him right now?" the general snarled. "Your government assured me they were sending their top man, not some wet-behind-the-ears intern."

Stung, Connor didn't know how to respond. He didn't have to.

"Unfortunately, Professor Cutter was killed a few months ago," Abby spoke up sharply. "Our work is very dangerous, as I'm sure you can appreciate."

The general looked startled. "Oh. I see –"

"And as for Connor Temple, Professor Cutter entrusted him with carrying on his work," Abby snapped, cutting him off. "He developed the anomaly detector and the locking device. He has an encyclopedic knowledge of every prehistoric creature known to paleontology. And he knows and understands more about the anomalies than anyone else on this planet." She folded her arms and fixed the general with a cold stare. "So yeah … you have the top man."

Connor felt a warm glow inside him. Abby Maitland might be small, but she was a bear-cat when riled. And at the moment she was riled on his behalf. He wondered if she meant what she was saying.

Traci moved to break the tension. "I know we're all very confident in your team's abilities," she said smoothly. "And of course very grateful to your government for sharing your expertise with us."

"Yes, of course," Patterson agreed brusquely. "We're prepared to put our operation in your very capable hands. I just want to emphasize how seriously our government takes this phenomenon. That, and the urgency of the situation. If another one of those things opens up, we want to be ready for it."

Connor nodded. "That's the plan, general."

"Very good. I've directed another briefing to take place two weeks from today, at which time you can present your final report, conclusions and recommendations." His tone made it clear to Connor that his beachside holiday would not be extended after all.

CHAPTER 6

After leaving the briefing, Traci led Connor and Abby to the commissary for lunch. Connor was amused to note that the menu included almost the exact same bland fare as they had at the ARC. He wondered whether there was some shadowy international catering company that handled food services for top-secret installations around the world. What a conspiracy theory his friend Tom would have spun out of that!

Over lunch at a quiet table — Abby and Traci had salads, while Connor indulged his fried-food lust with a burger and fries — Traci reassured them that the meeting with General Patterson had actually gone quite well. "He's a tough man, but fairer and more open-minded than most of the brass I've dealt with," she explained.

"Makes me almost appreciate Lester," Connor said. "I think I'll start calling him Cuddles."

"I'll look forward to seeing that," Abby smirked.

Traci looked thoughtful as she pushed the lettuce around her bowl. "All that you were saying about the phenomenon — that's for real?"

"Of course," Connor answered.

"Amazing. And you've been through one of these … anomalies … yourself? Actually traveled in time?"

Connor slathered ketchup over his fries and nodded. "I – " He glanced at Abby. "We've only been through an anomaly once. Cutter and other members of our team have been through a few more times. But we try to avoid physical interactions with the anomalies as much as possible."

"How come? I'd think it would be a fascinating opportunity."

"Well, to start with, you never know where or when you'll find yourself on the other side … or what you'll find there," Connor replied. "It might be something cute and huggable. But in our experience, it's more likely something big and toothy."

"And besides that," Abby chipped in, "the anomalies are unpredictable. You wouldn't want to be stuck on the wrong side when the anomaly closes unexpectedly … or worse, be half-way through."

Connor grimaced and averted his eyes from his ketchup-drenched fries. "Messy."

"But the biggest reason is not knowing how our incursions into the past may impact our present and future," Abby concluded.

"What do you mean?" Traci leaned forward with interest.

"Professor Cutter was the first one of us to go through an anomaly," Connor said. "When he returned, he claimed that some things were different from the world he knew before he entered the anomaly. The world had changed, in subtle ways."

"Was he right?"

Connor shrugged. "We've no way of knowing, obviously. Our memories of the past were apparently different from his. It could have been just a delusion of Cutter's; another thing we don't know is what affect the anomalies may have on humans, physiologically and psychologically."

"A delusion wouldn't explain Claudia," Abby inserted.

"Who's Claudia?"

"We won't know, actually," Connor responded. "One of the things Cutter claimed had changed was that someone on our team — a woman named Claudia Brown — had simply ceased to exist when he came back. Cutter was adamant that she played a huge role in our work, but none of the rest of us had ever heard of her."

"Another delusion, perhaps?"

"Maybe. Except that when they hired a new PR liaison for the ARC, a woman named Jenny Lewis, Cutter insisted she was an exact duplicate of this Claudia person. Poor Jenny thought he was barmy."

"Was he?"

Connor's face darkened. "No! Cutter may have been … disoriented … for a while, but he was the sanest person I ever knew. I believe something did change as a result of his going through the anomaly. And we may have proof of that."

"Oh?"

Abby took up the tale. "After Cutter died, a photo was found in his belongings. It was of him and Jenny. But Jenny swore she never posed for that picture."

Traci's eyes widened. "Claudia?"

Abby shrugged. "I suppose we'll never know."

Traci was silent a moment. "Well," she said finally. "That kinda creeps me out."

"Uh huh," Connor agreed.

"I mean, the implications — if this is true — are staggering." She gave Connor a sharp look. "You're familiar with multiverse theory?"

"Of course." He caught Abby's puzzled look and turned to her. "Some physicists theorize that there are an infinite number of universes in existence at any given time, operating in parallel to our own."

"Okaaay." Abby clearly wasn't following.

"If true, it suggests that quantum-level events may result in splits in the time-space continuum," Traci said. Abby's face remained blank. "That means that every time an anomaly opens, it spawns an entirely new universe."

"So there could be countless other versions of everything — including US — existing in other dimensions," Connor concluded excitedly. "Imagine if those universes somehow converged …"

Traci was nodding vigorously. "I know! It opens up so many questions and possibilities." She leaned in closer to Connor. "I'd love to talk more about this. Perhaps over dinner tonight?"

Connor looked at Abby. "Works for me. Abby?"

Abby looked startled and slightly embarrassed. "Um … actually, I've heard about all I need to about multiverses in the last 10 minutes. But you go ahead." She gave Traci a smile that wasn't entirely warm. "Fair warning, Traci. When Connor gets going on his science talk, there's no shutting him up."

Traci matched Abby's smile. "I can't wait."

CHAPTER 7

Over the next week and a half, Connor got to know all about American military process. Unlike Abby, he wasn't predisposed to be suspicious of their hosts' reasons for bringing them there; it quickly became clear that everyone involved in the project was sincerely committed to understanding what they were potentially facing and the most effective way of dealing with it. Of course, it was possible that the higher-ups were hoping to glean some new technology that could potentially be put to use as a weapon … but Connor didn't believe the technicians he was working with had any ulterior motives. He was also getting to know Traci Michaels very well — and she was one of the most fascinating women he'd ever met. Her intellect was astonishing; she picked up the theory underlying his technology almost before he'd explained it to her. She had a zest and passion for her work that rivaled his own … and she was damned hot. Not like Abby, of course. Miss Maitland remained the standard against which Connor measured all feminine beauty, and he'd never encountered anyone who matched her. But Traci came pretty close. And she had certain charms that even Abby didn't possess. Specifically, she seemed very much more impressed with a certain Mr. Connor Temple than Abby ever did.

One afternoon Abby stopped by the lab as Connor and Traci were testing a component of the anomaly detector. Abby had been spending her days on the other side of the base at the animal containment facility. She had had to admit to Connor that the team there was more compassionate and better equipped to treat any creatures they might encounter than she had expected.

Now she and Traci stood back and watched Connor, who was crouched beneath the detector console making infinitely fine adjustments to the frequency of his device. Absorbed in his work, Connor didn't pay attention to the women's conversation, until he heard Traci say, "It must be so amazing to get to work with Connor."

Connor pricked up his ears.

Abby laughed out loud. "Well, that's one way of putting it," she said.

"I know I must sound like a groupie," Traci added.

"Li'l bit, yeah," Abby agreed.

"It's just that all of this is so incredible, isn't it? Holes in time, super high-tech equipment … and the chance to learn from a genius like Connor Temple. It's a geekgirl's dream come true!"

"I must say, you're a woman after Connor's own heart." Abby's voice had a curiously sharp tone to it.

Connor stood up abruptly, banging his head on the edge of the machine. "Ow!"

"Are you okay?" Traci looked alarmed.

"Not to worry. He's got the hardest head of anybody I've ever seen," Abby said. "That may explain how obtuse he can be sometimes."

Connor decided to ignore her remark. "I think that just about does it for the detector. Now all there is to do is turn it on." He stepped forward and flipped a switch on the console. Immediately the familiar radar-esque image appeared on the big screen. It was reassuringly quiet. "No anomalies active within the range of the detector," he pronounced.

"So we're in the clear? The anomalies are gone?"

Connor shook his head. "I suspect not. Where there's been one anomaly, others usually turn up eventually."

"You really think these things have been happening throughout history and nobody ever noticed?"

"I'm sure they were noticed — just not understood," Connor answered. "Think of all the legends of dragons and other unknown creatures. Even going back to the most ancient times: Who's to say the burning bush or Ezekiel's wheel of fire weren't actually anomalies?"

Traci chuckled. "I wouldn't say that too loudly here in the Bible belt." She became serious again. "Is there any common denominator with these things? Or are they just random occurrences?"

"I can't be certain yet, but I have a theory that anomaly sites are somehow related to geomagnetic fields."

Traci let this sink in. "You're suggesting that anomalies appear over hot spots of magnetic activity, kind of like volcanoes develop over fissures in the earth's tectonic plates."

Connor was astonished that she grasped his theory so quickly. "Exactly!"

Abby frowned. "This is the first I've heard of this," she said sharply. "You share this with strangers before your own team?"

Connor flushed. "I haven't fully developed my ideas yet," he stammered. "Didn't want to go off half-cocked before I had any real evidence."

"But it makes sense!" Traci exclaimed. "Weird phenomena and mysterious disappearances have been reported for centuries at points where geomagnetic lines converge around the globe." A sudden thought hit her. "The Bermuda Triangle is one of those spots. And it's just a few hundred miles from here."

Connor pondered that a moment, then slowly nodded. "We have observed that anomalies are both increasing in frequency and spreading out from what appears to be the original centers of activity," he mused. "I wonder if that means whatever geomagnetic instabilities are fueling these things are expanding."

"That can't be good." Abby's face bore a trace of something like real fear.

Connor swallowed hard. "I'd call that an understatement. But there's no real proof of that. Let's not panic … yet."

Abby gave him a wry half-grin. "Easy for you to say. But if it is true, you'll have solved the mystery of the Bermuda Triangle. Imagine how impressed your nerdy pals will be."

Connor found it hard to appreciate her attempt at humor. His mind had turned to the stories he'd read of ships and planes that had disappeared into the Bermuda Triangle over the course of centuries. "If that's true, then all those who have gone missing ended up somewhere in the past or future," he said. "Trapped on the other side of an anomaly. I can't even imagine what that would be like."

CHAPTER 8

"Is that what you're wearing?" Abby asked, looking Connor up and down. He was sporting a beige straw trilby and dark shades. A beach towel was draped around his neck, over a slim-fitting black tee. His khaki cargo shorts were accessorized with a brown leather belt. Navy athletic socks and black trainers with hot pink laces completed the ensemble.

Connor looked at Abby, then down at himself, then back to her. "What?"

She suppressed a smile. "Nothing, you look great," she said. "In fact, I believe our Colonial forebearers would declare that you've quite gone native."

He looked slightly miffed at her critique. "I'm going to spend the day at the beach," he said defensively. "Might as well be comfortable."

"Did you remember sunscreen?"

"Yup." He dug into the front pocket of his voluminous shorts and pulled out a tube of suntan crème.

"SPF 15? With your pale skin?" Abby objected.

Connor rolled his eyes and rocked back on his heels. "Aw gee, Mum, all the other kids are getting a tan!"

She shrugged. "Suit yourself. I'd point out that lobster-red isn't your best color, but far be it from me to try to save your skin … literally." Her blue eyes squinted at him. "And just what are you smirking at, Mr. Temple?"

His smirk widened to a grin. "I like it when you get all worried and mother-hennish about me," he teased.

"I'm NOT your mum … and I'm not worried," she retorted. "Just practicing due diligence. Lester ordered me to keep an eye on you, remember?"

Connor saw an opportunity and seized on it. "Hadn't you ought to come along to the beach, then? You'll want to make sure my water wings are strapped on tight and keep me from paddling out over my head."

"I'm sure Lt. Michaels will take very good care of you," she answered with just a slight edge in her voice.

Connor would not be deterred. "Come on, Abby," he continued in a wheedling tone. "It's Florida! The Sunshine State! How can you come all this way from foggy old London and not go to the beach?"

"We're here to work, not play tourist," she said crisply, but he could see she was wavering.

"Well, I don't know why you bothered to pack a bikini if you have no intention of putting it on," he groused.

"How did you know I packed a bikini? Have you been messin' about in my things?"

He had to laugh out loud, tickled as always by the way her eyes flashed fire when her feathers were ruffled.

"Relax," he said, stepping back out of range of her famous tai chi kick; he was delighted by Abby … but with a healthy respect for her martial arts prowess, too. "I haven't been fingering your fancies. It was just a hunch — which you have now confirmed."

"Hmm. Very clever, Sherlock."

He looked intently at her. "I bet you'd look amazing in it, by the way."

It almost appeared to Connor like Abby blushed at that, so he continued quickly, "You know, if you come with us, you might meet a movie star or bronzed Adonis on the beach."

"I'm not looking for a bronzed Adonis."

"Good!" Now, at her sharp look, it was his turn to blush. "I mean, we wouldn't want you distracted from your work by some seaside romance, right?" he stammered.

"No, we wouldn't want that," she answered softly, not meeting his eyes. Suddenly the atmosphere was heavy between them. Connor felt torn between a desperate need to say something and an equally compelling urge to run away. If she looked up at him now, he felt he might just fall at her feet and babble like the lovesick fool he was. At just that moment, a sharp beep caused them both to jump and turn in the direction of the sound.

A sports car pulled up beside them. Traci Michaels was behind the wheel — and decidedly out of uniform. Her auburn hair was loose, flowing over her shoulders like molten copper. She wore a turquoise haltertop that set off her deep tan and emphasized her ample cleavage. Connor couldn't help ogling … the car.

It was a '67 Mustang convertible, Acapulco blue, with shiny mag wheels and charcoal interior.

"No way," Connor breathed, circling the car slowly. He tore his dazzled gaze from the chassis and looked at Traci with something like adoration. "Yours?"

"I wish!" she laughed. "Not feasible on a junior officer's salary, I'm afraid. It's a friend's. Thought you might like to travel in style." She patted the seat next to her.

"Yes, please!" he laughed. He briefly considered trying to leap into the seat over the doorframe, but remembered his dodgy performance on the pommel horse in gym class. Now was NOT the time to make a fool of himself. He opened the door and stepped in, settling himself into the buttery leather bucket seat with a sigh. "This," he said, wagging his eyebrows at Traci, "is AMAZING."

Connor noticed Traci looking beyond him questioningly, and suddenly remembered Abby. He turned back to her. "Are you sure you won't join us? There's plenty of … uh …" A glance behind him revealed the back seat was fully occupied by a beach umbrella and a large picnic basket. "Oh."

Traci looked embarrassed. "Um, let me just rearrange a few things …" she began, but Abby interrupted her.

"Not necessary," she said, shaking her head. "I've lots of work planned for today, preparing for our final presentation to General Patterson tomorrow." She raised an eyebrow at Connor. "You did remember that, didn't you?"

"Course!" He pointed to his temple. "Got my report all planned out, right up here."

"If you say so." She directed her attention to Traci. "I wouldn't keep him out too late. Turns into a pumpkin after midnight."

"Thanks for the advice," Traci laughed, then glanced at Connor. "Ready?"

"Absolutely!"

Connor couldn't suppress a whoop as she gunned the engine and hit the accelerator. Connor had only a brief glimpse back at Abby as they zoomed out of the parking lot and into traffic. She was walking back toward their condo, her head slightly bowed.

A moment later Traci and Connor were cruising down A1A, headed south. Connor watched the palms and coast flash by on his left, the princely homes and resort hotels on the right. The warm, semi-tropical breeze tousled his hair and the bright sun felt delicious on his face. "So where are we going?" he shouted over the rush of wind.

"You said you wanted the quintessential Florida beach experience," she hollered back, "Where else but Miami, baby! Whee-oo!"

Connor threw back his head and laughed into the brilliant blue, cloudless sky. He knew this was going to be an amazing day.

CHAPTER 9

It was a three-hour drive down the coast, but Connor was too fascinated by the scenery on all sides to notice the time. Once Traci tapped his arm and pointed toward the inter-coastal waterway next to the highway; Connor was astonished to see a small pod of dolphins cavorting quite close to the shore. "Abby would LOVE that!" he shouted. Traci smiled and gave him a thumbs-up. "Just wait until you see the wildlife on the beach in Miami!" she laughed back.

By the time they reached the outskirts of Miami, the sun was high in the sky and the climate was distinctly tropical: hot and humid. Heavy traffic congestion slowed their pace to a crawl, but Connor didn't mind. It only made it easier to get a good look at the gleaming wall of high rises that hugged the beach, the crowds of pedestrians of every shape, size and state of undress, and the intense aquamarine water just visible over the dunes coast-side.

Connor found it difficult to maintain his hip facade; his natural urge was to point and gape at every fresh novelty. But he was aware that they were attracting a bit of attention themselves, and no wonder: a beautiful woman driving a very hot car with an uncommonly pale man sitting beside her … Connor adjusted his shades for optimum coolness, set his face in an expression he hoped looked jaded and aloof.

"Well, what do you think?" Traci asked with a sidelong glance at him.

"Abso-frickin-mazing," he replied under his breath as he offered the slightest of nods to a gaggle of tourists who stared at their vehicle with obvious admiration.

Traci pulled into a secure parking lot and shut off the engine. "Ready to rock this town?"

He grinned. "Oh, yeah."

Connor reclined in his beach chair, took a sip of his tall, cold beverage and sighed with satisfaction. He slid his sunglasses down his nose slightly to scrutinize his toes, the only part of him not protected by the large beach umbrella Traci had erected over their rented loungers. They were quickly turning a florid pink in the hot sun. "Oops. Looks like Abby was right about that SPF factor," he said wryly.

Traci chuckled. "Keep your socks on when you get back. She'll never be the wiser."

"Ha! You don't know Abby Maitland. Like a dog with a bone, that one. She'll have the secret out of me before I get through the door."

"You two seem close."

Connor suddenly felt awkward. "Me and Abby? Well, yeah, I s'pose. We've been working together since the whole anomaly thing began — we're practically the only original ones left. And we were flatmates."

"Were?"

"Her brother showed up needing a place to stay a while back, so I had to shift my gear elsewhere."

"That must have made you mad."

"You mean angry?" He shrugged. "It means a lot to Abby to be able to help her baby brother. Family's important, right?"

"So is friendship."

Connor decided it was time to change the subject. He gazed out over the sea of prone, well-oiled bodies on the beach to the gently undulating blue waves beyond. "I'd be happy sleeping in a box on the beach if I lived here." He shook his head. "Home was never like this!"

"It could be."

Connor looked at Traci, who was studying him seriously. "You mean global warming?" he asked, a bit confused. "Yeah, but it'll be a while before we start seeing palm trees in Piccadilly Square."

"That's not what I meant." Traci sat up abruptly and turned in her chair to face him. "Connor, I'd like you to consider staying on here for a while. I can arrange an extended visa that will let you remain in the country indefinitely." She reached over and placed her hand on his arm. "This anomaly situation is so huge, and frankly, I'm out of my depth. Your experience — your brilliant mind — would be invaluable in helping us get a handle on what we're facing here."

Connor was speechless a moment. "I – um – wow," he said finally. "I'm incredibly flattered. But don't sell yourself short. You're more than capable of managing the operation. You're probably the most brilliant woman I've ever met." He smiled at her. "Besides, I'm already semi-gainfully employed back at the ARC. "

"But that unit is already so well established," she pressed him. "And I get the impression there are certain … constraints … on your work there. Here, you'd have all the resources you need and the full support of our government to pursue your research however you want."

"Wow again," Connor said. "That's an incredible offer. But — "

She shook her head. "Don't give me an answer now. Just think about it a bit, okay?"

The look in her green eyes was so pleading, what could he do but say, "Okay. I'll think about it."

CHAPTER 10

Even with artificial "moonlight" from huge klieg lights pouring over the landscape, the grounds of Animal Kingdom were unusually dark this midnight. The many trees, boulders and other elements of the simulated natural environment blocked much of the ambient light of the night sky, and cast long, black shadows over the landscape.

On the artificial savannas and inside the simulated temple edifices, the animals were strangely restless. A herd of zebras stamped and skittered nervously and a lioness stood atop a small hill, sniffing the air and twitching her long tail. The thousands of birds inhabiting the park were strangely silent. It seemed as if the night itself were holding its breath. Waiting.

Suddenly there was a low-pitched thrumming sound. It grew in intensity, and as it did, the whole menagerie of the park broke into a cacophony of alarm. The turmoil awakened the park's night watchman, who had slunk under an overhanging cliff face to his customary snoozing spot.

"What the hell?" he muttered, getting to his feet. He wandered out from his secluded hide-out and scanned the area around him. Everything looked normal here, but in the distance, in the direction of the Himalayas, he could barely perceive a faint, orangeish glow. Fire? His heart pounded into overdrive as he hurried over to investigate.

CHAPTER 11

Connor minced — slowly and carefully — into the condo's kitchenette. Tea. That's what was needed. Black. Hot. Strong. He filled the kettle and set it on the stove to heat, then slumped into a chair at the small kitchen table. His head was splitting and his stomach churned. He thought he might just possibly expire right there. But there was a slight chance for recovery, if he could just sit very still and very, very quiet …

The bang of the front door slamming jerked Connor upright.

"Ooh!" he winced as Abby came bouncing in, fresh from her early morning run. How could someone so petite make so much noise?

She stopped short at the sight of him. Taking in his greenish pallor, rumpled appearance and overall hangdog look, she folded her arms and fixed him with a level, not at all sympathetic, gaze. "What happened to you?"

"Sex on the beach."

"What?" Her shrill exclamation arced like electricity through his throbbing skull.

"It's a drink," he mumbled, pulling a nearby dishtowel over his head to cut the morning sun piercing his eyes like icicles. "We stopped at a night club to dance on the way home."

Abby rolled her eyes and shook her head simultaneously. "You know one white wine spritzer is enough to lay you out," she scolded. "What were you thinking?"

"It was a bit more potent than I expected," he sighed. He managed a very weak, sheepish smile. "It came in a souvenir glass, with a little paper umbrella in it."

Pursing her lips, she plucked the dishtowel off his face, crossed to the sink and ran cold water over it. "Put your head down," she commanded as she wrung the cloth out and folded it into a rectangle. He dropped his head to the tabletop obediently. The cool formica surface felt slightly soothing on his forehead — the damp cloth Abby now gently laid over the back of his neck even more so.

"Mmmph," he grunted. It was as close to an expression of thanks as he could muster in his condition. He closed his eyes and listened to Abby pull out the chair across from him and sit down. He knew what was coming.

"You do remember we're expected to make our final report to General Patterson this morning," she began in a tone just about sharp enough to slice off the top of his pounding head.

"I'll be fine in time for that."

"I hope so. Because it's not going to make a sterling impression if you upchuck all over his well-polished boots."

"I said I'd be all right," Connor repeated irritably. Her voice, ordinarily like music to him, was grating on his extra-sensitive eardrums.

"Seriously, Connor, you're a grown man," she continued. "I'm tired of having to play nanny for you."

"Well, you mightn't have to much longer," Connor retorted, pulling the cloth off his neck and sitting up to face her.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Traci's asked me to stay on here to work with her on anomaly research."

Abby stared at him like he'd just announced he was Napoleon Bonaparte reincarnated. "That's mad!"

Connor bristled. "What, that someone might believe I have something to contribute to figuring this thing out?"

"No. That you're even considering this when you're needed back at the ARC." She looked genuinely astonished.

"Am I?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard Lester before we left. At this point, the ARC systems pretty much run themselves." He laughed humorlessly. "I'm sure our boss would be pleased to save my salary, meager as it is. And I know he'd love to have his guest bedroom back."

"You know that's only temporary, until Jack sorts himself out and gets his own place," Abby said.

"Yeah, so you've said. It's just that temporary is feeling more permanent all the time."

Abby's eyes shone bright — whether with anger or tears, Connor couldn't tell. "So you're asking me to turn my own brother out?"

"Of course not. You know I cleared out of the flat as soon as you asked." He looked down at the table. "I'm just saying that not having any … ties … makes it easier to think about starting up somewhere else." He looked back at her and shrugged. "I likely wouldn't even be missed, much."

Something flickered behind Abby's eyes. "Connor, you can't really believe that." Her hand slid tentatively across the table toward his. At that moment, both their mobiles rang simultaneously.

In one smooth, practice motion, Connor was on his feet and reaching for his cell. "Connor Temple here."

It was Traci, and her voice was strained. "Something's going on, Con," she almost shouted over the noise of claxons in the background. "That machine of yours is going crazy."

Out of the corner of his eye, Connor saw Abby with her phone to her cheek, frowning as she apparently received the same news."

"Where?" Connor asked.

"Getting the coordinates now …" There was a pause, during which Connor listened to the continuing alarmed and muffled shouts from the other end of the line. Suddenly Traci was back. "Oh, shit!" she gasped. "Animal Kingdom. The anomaly's opened in the park again!"

CHAPTER 12

Connor sat mashed up close to Abby in the back of a crowded Hummer, but he didn't have leisure to enjoy the rare full body contact. He was focused on his portable locator, adjusting its dials to fine-tune the frequency. The device was beeping softly, the telltale sign of an open anomaly nearby. The sound grew in volume as they got nearer the park.

If nothing else, adrenaline was a great cure for a hangover. He was always a bit tense en route to a field mission; heading into an unfamiliar situation, about to face who knew what kind of horror, it was only prudent to be on guard. But for the first time Connor would be leading a response team — an untested, albeit heavily armed, team. This was a highly disciplined unit, but Connor knew from experience that no amount of drills and simulations could really prepare you for your first encounter with a creature out of your most primal nightmares. He only prayed there had been no incursion, or if there had, that he could keep the situation under control. His greatest fear was that someone could get hurt — or worse — on his watch.

Abby must have sensed his anxiety, because as the truck pulled up to the park entrance, she gave his hand a quick squeeze. He shot her a grateful glance, then hopped out of the vehicle and headed for the gate, hoping he projected more confidence than he actually felt.

General Patterson was waiting at the gate with a very nervous looking man in a three-piece suit. "Here's the man now," Patterson announced loudly at Connor's approach. "Temple, this is Al Linder, safety director here at the park. I've just been telling Mr. Linder here that you've had experience with these kinds of … incidents … and will have everything under control in time for the park to open as usual at 10:00 am."

Connor glanced at his watch; it was nearly 8:00 am already. He turned his attention to the park employee. "Can you tell me what happened?"

The man looked slightly ill. "One of the zoologists found the body of our overnight security man in the Kingdom of Anandapur this morning."

"Kingdom of Anandapur?"

"It's the Asian section of the park. We thought at first one of the tigers escaped and got to him. But they're still in their enclosures, and the damage to the body … well, no big cat could have done that."

"I see," Connor said, feeling a tightening in his chest. "And where was the body found?"

"He — that is, what was left of him - was hanging in a tree behind the entrance to Expedition Everest."

"Is there a way to seal off that part of the park?" Connor asked.

"There's a security gate that can be closed across the entrance."

"How tall?"

The man thought a minute. "Five or six feet, I think."

Connor frowned. "I don't think that will be helpful. That park's been evacuated, obviously?"

"Except for two of our zookeepers, yes."

"There are still people in there?" Connor blurted.

"They volunteered to stay behind," the man blustered, noting Connor's alarm. "The animals have been going crazy all over the park. The keepers are going through the wildlife areas with tranquilizers, trying to keep all hell from breaking loose."

As he spoke, Connor realized he could hear a cacophony of animal sounds from inside the park. It was obvious that something had driven the creatures into a frenzy of fear … and Connor suspected he knew what it was.

"You need to get the keepers out of there," Connor said. "Right now." His tone left room for no argument, and the man nodded and pulled a walkie-talkie out of his jacket pocket.

Connor didn't wait for the man to carry out his order; he turned toward the park gate. "General, we need to get our team in there." Just then Traci ran up to them. The portable anomaly locking device was slung over one shoulder.

"What's the situation?"

"Incursion," Connor answered tensely. "One fatality. The anomaly's in the Asian section, I think. Still open."

Traci adjusted the device on her shoulder. "So we go in?"

Connor nodded. "With a small team, until we know what we're dealing with. Two sharp shooters, you, me, and … " He glanced over Traci's head toward the Hummer, where a small, familiar figure was loading a high-powered handgun with practiced efficiency. "…Abby." He caught her eye and gestured; she hurried to join them as Traci went to select the two military sharpshooters who would accompany them.

"Not good, then, I take it," Abby said.

Connor looked grave. "Something came through. Something big enough to throw a man into a tree."

At that moment, a figure appeared on the roadway behind the gate, running fast. His face was contorted with terror. He raced through the gate and would have continued right past the assembled military personnel if a couple of the soldiers hadn't stepped into his path. When Connor, Abby and Traci reached the man, struggling against the soldiers' restraining arms, he were babbling.

"There's something inside the park!" he gibbered. "It's huge! It's huge!"

"Where's the other keeper?" Connor asked urgently.

The man looked at him dazedly. "Kenny?" A fresh look of horror appeared on his face. "Oh, God! It got Kenny. It tore him to pieces!"

Connor grabbed the man's collar and forced him to focus on his face. "Tell me what you saw. What took Kenny?"

"It was … I don't know. Enormous. Like one of the animatronic things in the Dinosaur ride. Only it wasn't a robot. This thing was alive!"

As medics loaded the still hysterical man onto a gurney, Connor turned to Traci, Abby and the two sharpshooters who had been assigned to accompany them. "Ready?" He saw that Traci's face was ashen; he wondered whether he should tell her to stay behind, but she said, "Ready." Abby looked determined, serious and calm. She gave him a slight nod. "We follow you, chief." Connor took a deep breath, tightened his grip on his anomaly detector, and started into the park.

The first thing they encountered was blood. A lot of it. Shreds of gore-soaked cloth similar to the uniform the surviving zookeeper was wearing told them all they needed to know about what had happened to the unfortunate Kenny. They followed the blood trail and the sound of animals screaming in the distance. As they got closer to the Kingdom of Anandapur they began to discern a sound different from the vaguely familiar howls and roars of the familiar animals of the park. This was a low, rumbling growl – loud enough to cause a mild vibration in the air around them.

Connor looked back at his companions. The two sharpshooters were swiveling their heads wildly, their fingers twitching on their gun butts, trying to see the source of the alien sound. Traci and Abby walked side by side, completely motionless except for the soft treading of their feet. The anomaly locking device was on Traci's shoulder; Connor could just see the faint green glow of the sensor that told him it was powered up and ready to be deployed.

All of Connor's senses were heightened as adrenaline coursed through his body. Strangely, he didn't feel fear, but rather an almost supernatural alertness and building tension. Every muscle was taught, ready to spring into action. Even so, as the little group of humans turned a corner into the staging area of Expedition Everest, Connor stopped dead in his tracks in shock.

Before them, not more than a dozen yards away, a huge creature was crouched over a lump of something lying on the concrete beneath it. Its jaws worked rhythmically as it tore at the object. At this distance, it was impossible to tell whether the creature was feasting on an animal or what was left of the zookeeper. Fortunately, it was intent enough on its meal that it didn't immediately notice the fresh batch of tasty snacks that had wandered into its vicinity. Connor gestured behind him as he backed the group behind the feeble shelter of a lemonade kiosk. One of the soldiers appeared about to say something, but Connor held a finger to his lips.

Abby raised her eyebrows to catch his attention and mouthed, "What is it?"

"Carnasaurus," Connor mouthed back.

A horrible gnawing sound, punctuated by slurps and grunts, was coming from the direction of the feeding carnivore. Connor held his portable detector before his eyes. A persistent blip on the small screen identified the location of an open anomaly — a few dozen yards beyond where the creature was having its meal.

Connor held the device up for the others to see and used gestures to communicate the plan. The soldiers would move into positions flanking the creature while Connor and Abby approached it from behind. At a signal, the riflemen would fire their weapons above and across the back of the creature, hopefully startling it into fleeing forward toward the anomaly. Connor and Abby would pursue it from behind to make sure it didn't turn about. As soon as the creature was chased through the anomaly, Traci would activate the locking mechanism.

The soldiers unshouldered their rifles stealthily. Connor gave a quick nod and the pair disappeared in opposite directions into the undergrowth beside the walkway. Connor counted to 60 twice, then darted a quick peek around the corner of the kiosk. He saw the Carnasaur still bent over the carcass and, on each side and just slightly behind it, the two soldiers had found their positions.

Connor took a deep breath … then flung his right arm skyward, the signal to the shooters. They raised their rifles simultaneously and fired into the air just over the creature's back. Its head shot up and swiveled backward. Traci gasped at the sight of its massive jaws and snout, smeared with blood. Some kind of mangled tissue hung from its maw, and Connor felt his stomach drop as he recognized the meat as part of a human forearm.

The great carnivore's small, glassy eyes scanned the ground behind it. Just as its gaze fastened on the trio of humans, Connor dashed forward, yelling and firing his own handgun over his head. Abby sprinted beside him, shouting and shooting. The two marksmen fired again, and faced with the onslaught of a swarm of puny irritants, the ancient beast began to lumber in the direction of the anomaly. The five humans kept herding the monster onward until ahead of them, a shimmering, swirling cloud appeared. Confronted with the dancing shards of golden light immediately before him, the Carnasaur hesitated and started to turn back.

"It's coming this way!" one of the soldiers shouted. Connor saw him train his rifle on the creature.

"No!" Connor shouted, just as a shot rang out and a burst of red erupted above the creature's right eye. Bellowing, the creature turned back and crashed through the anomaly, vanishing inside the glowing vortex. Time seemed to slow as Connor looked to Traci, who had run forward and stopped directly in front of the anomaly. "Lock it down!" Connor hollered. But Traci stood transfixed, staring into the heart of the anomaly. A second later, he saw what had captured her attention. The Carnasaur's head suddenly thrust back through the anomaly. And then a second massive head appeared … and a third.

"Traci! LOCK IT DOWN!" Connor screamed. From the corner of his eye he saw Abby lunging toward Traci even as he was sprinting toward her himself. The three beasts reared backward at that moment, vanishing momentarily from view … and Traci slammed the button on the locking unit. Instantly the anomaly shrank in on itself, forming a glimmering ball which pulsed once, twice … then collapsed to a pinpoint and vanished.

Connor staggered to a halt at the place where the anomaly had been. He turned to look at Abby, who was grinning jubilantly. At that moment he suddenly felt something grab him from behind and spin him around. Whooping, Traci threw her arms around his neck and hugged him hard. "We did it!" she exulted. Caught up in her excitement, Connor spun her around … and saw Abby standing stock still, staring at the two of them. He watched a dark cloud pass over her features as she came toward them.

"What the bloody hell were you playing at, hesitating like that?" she snarled at Traci.

"Hold on, Abby," Connor began, but Abby turned her wrath on him now.

"You know she almost got us all killed," she hissed. "At the critical moment she froze."

Connor was startled by her vehemence — an emotion quickly overtaken by indignation. "Look," he snapped back at her. "Whatever happened in the heat of the moment, Traci got the job done. The anomaly is closed and there were no further casualties. I'd say the operation went pretty damned well." He disengaged himself from Traci and took a step toward Abby. "And as long as I'm in charge of this team, I will deal with any situations that may arise."

Abby seemed momentarily stunned. Then she shoved her gun into the holster on her hip and gave Connor a hard look. "You might be in charge, but you'll never be a leader until you care more about the mission than you do whether the people on your team think you're a great guy." She turned on her heel and stalked off.

Connor watched her retreating form, wondering what the hell just happened. He felt a touch on his elbow. Traci.

"Abby was only half right, Connor," she said softly. "I did screw up. Big time. But you did an amazing job leading this team."

Connor looked down at her lovely face, smiling affectionately up at him. At least someone appreciates him, he thought.

CHAPTER 13

Hours later, Connor and Traci entered the conference room on the base and slid into empty chairs. Abby was already there, studying her notes. She looked up as they came in, but quickly returned her gaze to her papers without speaking. Connor felt a pang in the pit of his stomach. His anger had long since dissipated; he found it impossible to stay angry with her for any length of time. It was replaced by shame at having flown off the handle at her in the first place — in the heat of battle, emotions ran high, and a leader should know better than to lose control as he did — and a curious feeling of loneliness.

He had become used to sharing everything with Abby. Ordinarily, they would have celebrated the success of a mission with high fives and a nice cup of tea together. But Abby had climbed into a group transport for the ride back to the base, and Traci had shared the back of the Humvee with him. She was still high from the adrenaline rush of the battle, eager to rehash every detail. Connor tried to match her enthusiasm, but his thoughts kept turning to the ugly scene with Abby. He wondered if she was as unsettled by it as he was. Probably not; nothing much rattled Miss Maitland. He hadn't seen her since their confrontation that morning. Stealing a glance at her now, he thought she looked tired and sad. Perhaps their falling out bothered her more than he thought.

General Patterson and his aides entered the room and the mission debrief began. Connor related the details of how the operation had gone down. He was happy to be able to report that the team had handled the situation extremely well, and that the technology performed flawlessly. He commended the marksmen, noting that although the creature had unfortunately been wounded in the fray, the shooter had been required to make a split-second decision and the potential danger to the team from the Carnasaur's unexpected movement justified the shot. He added, however, that he hoped it would not be necessary to use such tactics in the future. He gave Traci due credit for locking down the anomaly, not mentioning her hesitation. "All in all, the team conduced themselves extremely well," he concluded.

"Very good," Patterson said. "Anyone have anything to add?"

"I do." It was Abby who spoke.

Connor looked at Abby, a feeling of dread washing over him.

"I believe Connor should be commended for his extraordinary leadership in the field," she said. "That the creature was returned to its own time and the anomaly neutralized without loss or injury to any member of the team is entirely attributable to how he managed the situation."

There were moments when Connor really wondered whether a person's heart could explode from happiness. This was one of those times. With effort, he maintained a dignified silence instead of leaping on the table for a quick tap dance, which was his first impulse.

"Yes, of course," Patterson responded gruffly. "I will of course extend my commendation of Mr. Temple's actions to your superiors back at the ARC."

The briefing continued as Abby and Connor presented their final reports on their work over the past two weeks. Abby offered a very positive assessment of the animal containment facility with some recommendations for additional improvements. Connor was able to report that the long-range anomaly detector, portable detectors and an anomaly-locking device had been constructed and, as the adventure of the morning demonstrated, were functioning properly. The tactical teams assigned to the program continued to train with the equipment and Connor considered them prepared to handle any future incidents.

At the conclusion of their presentations, Patterson thanked them as warmly as someone in his position could be allowed. "Please do know that the United States government is deeply appreciative of your assistance in this sensitive matter," he said. "I understand that a celebration has been planned in your honor this evening at one of the local theme parks. Since duties prevent me from attending, let me take this opportunity to formally thank you for your contributions."

He addressed Abby. "I wish you godspeed, Ms. Maitland, as you return to your work in the UK." Turning now to Connor, he added, "I understand you may be staying on here for a while, Mr. Temple. I'm sure your collaboration with Lt. Michaels will bear fruit for both our countries."

Connor was dumbfounded. He glanced at Abby, who was staring at the table before her. "Um … thanks, sir," he managed to mumble. He wondered if Traci had told General Patterson his staying on was a done deal. He wondered if it was.

Connor Temple rarely needed an excuse to access the kid inside him — but if he did, he'd find it here at DisneyWorld. General Patterson had arranged a celebratory dinner for him, Abby, Traci and all those working on the anomaly project inside Cinderella's Castle, followed by free rein to enjoy all the park's amenities. Connor had dreamed of visiting this wonderland since he was a kid, and he took full advantage of the opportunity now. From the AstroOrbiter to the Mad Tea Party to Space Mountain, Connor hit all the highlights. The only flaw in an otherwise perfect evening was the fact that Abby wasn't enjoying it with him. Professing herself to be subject to motion sickness, she had left him and Traci to explore the souvenir shops, promising to join them for the big fireworks display at the end of the evening.

For her part, Traci was as exuberant a thrill rider as Connor was. She even clued him in on the best cars to sit in to get the biggest rush. Connor was soon hoarse from laughing and hollering as the various coasters and spinners jostled his internal organs deliciously. Near sundown he and Traci made their way to a prime viewing spot to await the fireworks. Connor scanned the gathering crowds for Abby's small frame, but she didn't appear. Just as the show was about to commence, Connor felt his mobile vibrate. It was a text from Abby:

"Headache. Headed back 2 condo. Can U catch a ride with T? C U later."

Disappointed, Connor slipped his cell back in his pocket and turned back to Traci. She looked stunning in the faint starlight, her eyes shining above her broad smile. "Ooh! I see a better spot," she exclaimed suddenly, grabbing his hand and dragging him closer to the edge of the artificial lake over which the fireworks would appear. They stood together in the shadow of a small tree. Traci had not let go of his hand; it felt warm and soft in his. As the first burst of colorful sparks lit up the sky, Traci turned to look up at Connor. Her face glowed in the reflected light of the fireworks. "Have I told you how much I've enjoyed spending time with you?" she said.

"Me, too," he answered. A quiver of anticipation was flowing through him as he looked at her. She really was beautiful.

"I've never met anyone like you, Connor," she continued a little breathily. "You make me feel …" she trailed off and lifted her face, lips slightly parted, toward his. Connor's own head dipped toward hers as if on automatic pilot. He felt his heart pounding and his head spinning. He wanted to kiss her. She wanted him to kiss her.

He didn't kiss her.

"Wow, that was a big one!" he said instead, abruptly turning his face toward the exploding blossom of fire above the lake. "I don't think I've ever been this close to fireworks before. Feels a little dangerous." He slipped his hand out of Traci's and jammed it in his pocket.

He heard Traci sigh next to him, but kept his gaze fixed on the aerial display. The show came to its thundering crescendo and Connor and Traci joined in the chorus of cheers and applause as the last twinkling spark faded. Then they followed the crowds back to the entrance, boarded a trolley to the car park and got into Traci's Escort. During the hour-long drive back to the coast, Traci and Connor kept up a constant stream of mindless chatter, trying with limited success to fend off the awkwardness between them. Reaching Cocoa Beach, they found the traffic snarled. Half a mile from the condo, Connor said, "Why don't you let me off here?"

"Here?"

"Yeah. It's a great night for a walk, and I'm sure you need to be getting back to the base."

Traci looked disappointed, but mustered a smile. "Suit yourself." She pulled over to the curb. "See you tomorrow?" she asked as he stepped out onto the sidewalk.

"Absolutely. We've got a lot to talk about." He gave her a smile of genuine affection, shut the door and watched her pull back into traffic and out of his view.

CHAPTER 14

Walking down the beach toward the condo, Connor tried to process what he was feeling — a strange mixture of elation and confusion. He replayed that moment in the park when Traci had looked at him … that way. He wondered what would have happened if he had kissed her. Would he be going to her place now instead of his own? She was so beautiful. And she wanted him. She wanted him.

His mind flashed back to the last time a beautiful woman had shown an interest in him: Caroline Steel. But that had been a lie. Could Traci be playing him in the same way for her own reasons? He spooled his memory back over every moment he'd been with her over the past two weeks, searching for any sign of deception, of insincerity. He found none. And he knew he would never be taken in so easily again by a woman — by anyone — as he had been by Caroline. He was a different man now. Everything he'd experienced … so many wonders … so many losses … had sharpened and hardened him.

So if Traci really was attracted to him, what then? If he stayed on in Florida as she'd suggested, would they become lovers?

The thought excited him, in every sense of the word. Possibilities opened up before his imagination. Could he make a new life for himself here, in this sun-kissed slice of Eden? He knew he had much to contribute to the work at the base. There would be unlimited resources to support his research. And he would be appreciated here. Respected, even. Back home, he was often treated like a slightly irritating child or some kind of goofy mascot. Here he could make a difference. Here he would be important.

Lost in his musings, Connor didn't realize how far he'd walked until he suddenly recognized the guest condo only a few dozen yards further up the beach. There didn't seem to be any lights on. Connor felt a slight twinge of anxiety; surely Abby should be home by now. Then his eyes were drawn to the beachside patio, where a ghostly figure leaned against the railing, staring out at the dark sea.

Connor sprinted the last few yards to the patio. "Hey!" he said. "Are you okay?"

Abby started and turned toward him, obviously not having noticed his approach. "Oh! Connor." Her face was pale in the moonlight and her eyes held a deep sadness that he'd seen a few times before but never had the courage to ask about.

She was wearing a short, light-colored nightgown with a matching silky robe that fluttered lightly in the salt-tinged breeze. The moonlight painted a silvery path across the gently undulating sea and swept over her frail form, giving her an almost eerie glow.

"What are you doing out here?" Connor asked softly.

"Nothing. Thinking." She shrugged and continued staring out at the pounding surf.

"When you texted me you'd gone home early, I was worried something was wrong," Connor persisted.

"So you raced back here to find out. It only took you three hours to get here." Her voice was as cold as the depths of the sea before them.

Connor reached out and touched her arm gently. "I – I'm sorry," he began, but she shrugged off his hand and stepped a couple of paces away from him, out of his reach.

"No need to be sorry," she said, finally turning to face him with a slight, melancholy smile. "You didn't do anything wrong. I'm the one who should apologize. I'm just in a mood, I guess."

"Abby, what's going on," Connor asked, expecting her to brush off his question as she'd brushed off his hand. Instead, she was silent a long moment. Then they sighed. "I think it was seeing all those families," she said almost in a whisper. "Laughing, having fun. Enjoying being together. I guess it's stupid to miss something you never had." She lapsed into silence again.

Connor didn't know what to say. His own father had died when he was only 10, but despite that loss, he'd grown up in a boisterous, loving family. His mum had struggled to support the family, and there were no luxuries in their small council flat, but Connor had always felt loved. Holidays at Gran's, birthday parties, family outings to the park … Connor couldn't imagine not having those memories. He knew Abby's parents had died a few years before he'd met her, and that she felt responsible for her younger brother Jack. Beyond that he knew nothing — except that her past was a subject she had no interest in sharing with him. Until now.

"I'm sorry," he said again, not knowing what else to say.

She looked up at him now, a kind of pleading in her eyes. "Connor," she murmured, "I know I can be … prickly … sometimes. It's hard for me to express my feelings. And I say things I don't really mean. You know that, right?" A glint of tears appeared in her eyes. He had never seen her look so fragile. So vulnerable. He ached to put his arms around her. It killed him to see the pain inside her, and knowing that he couldn't make that hurt go away. But he also understood, at that moment, that he would spend the rest of his life trying.

A sudden breeze blew in from the sea and Abby shivered. "Time to go in, I guess," she said, pulling her robe more tightly around her.

"I guess." Connor's voice was thick.

"Goodnight, Connor."

"Goodnight, Abby."

Without another word, they each turned and entered their respective rooms.

CHAPTER 15

Connor appeared in the doorway of the lab early the next morning. Traci was already there, compiling notes from their most recent tests. She beamed as he walked in. "Morning, sunshine!"

"Hi!" He sat down on a stool next to her. "Thanks for last night. It was great."

"Glad you enjoyed it," she answered lightly, continuing to scribble in her notebook. "There's plenty more where that came from."

"Traci," Connor said, placing a hand over hers to draw her full attention to him. She looked at him with a smile half hopeful, half anxious.

"You are one of the most amazing women I've ever met," he began.

She smiled more broadly. "You're not so bad yourself."

"And the opportunity to stay here and continue my research … it's an incredible offer."

Her face clouded with understanding. "But."

Connor sighed with genuine regret. "But I have to go back to the ARC. Believe it or not, I really am needed there. And I need …" he trailed off.

"You need to be with Abby," she finished for him.

"Pretty obvious, huh?" he grinned ruefully.

"Uh huh. She's a lucky woman."

Connor laughed out loud. "Ha! If only she saw it that way!"

"Don't be so sure she doesn't," Traci said.

"What do you mean?"

"Abby doesn't like me," she answered. "In fact, I think it's fair to say she can't stand me. And I happen to be a very likable person." She gave him a wink. "Since I've never done anything to Miss Maitland, I figure her ill will can only be the result of jealousy. We're not professional competitors, so she must be jealous of something else. Wonder what that could be?"

"Seems logical. But I've learned never to assume I know what Abby Maitland is thinking … or feeling." He shrugged, then smiled broadly. "But I hope you're right!"

"I guess you've got a plane to catch," Traci said, extending her hand. "It's been a pleasure and a privilege, Mr. Temple."

"Ditto, Lt. Michaels." He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'm leaving the program here in very capable hands."

Getting through security at Orlando International Airport was a nightmare. As the line to the check-point crawled forward, Connor began to fear he'd miss his flight. He'd been surprised when he returned to the condo and discovered Abby was already gone. Apparently she believed he was going to stay behind. That she left without even saying goodbye didn't really shock him; Abby wasn't one for sentimental displays of emotion. Or maybe she didn't trust herself to maintain her cool exterior?

Naturally his gate was at the far end of the terminal, and Connor found himself sprinting through the concourse, his carry-on slung under one arm. Ahead, he saw a line already forming to board the British Airways jet that would take him — them — home. And there she was … hanging back at the end of the line. Looking around. Looking for him? He heard himself call out, "Hey! What's the idea of leaving me behind?" She turned at the sound of his voice and an expression of joy erupted on her face for just a second, until she grabbed hold of her composure again and affected a look of exasperation.

"About time," she scolded as he fell into line beside her. "I thought we were going to have to hold the plane."

"Not a chance," he said, wheezing a bit from his gallop. "You know I always come through in the nick of time."

She allowed her smile to linger this time. "Yeah, I guess you do." She gave him a playful punch on the arm. "I have to admit, Traci Michaels was right about one thing. You are a pretty amazing guy, Connor Temple."

He looked down at her and decided he didn't need a plane to get home. He was flying high already.