Jesse was stopped as he emerged from the forested area onto the beach. In contrast to the 'normal' inhabited regions, this beach was almost empty. But several porpoising figures leaping through the waves gave him his first, second, and third clues as to where the shark mutants preferred to spend most of their days and it wasn't lying on the sand, basking in the sun. A shark mutant, another blue by the looks of him, challenged him, attitude seeping from every pore. "Wrong beach, sir. This one's ours."

"I'm looking for Lt. Vanderworthy," Jesse returned. "Is he here?"

"You see him?" No, but what Jesse could see was the angry light in the shark mutant's steely black eye, and the single thought uppermost in the man's eye: let's give the civilian a hard time.

Jesse stifled a sigh, working for a pleasant demeanor. "I don't know what he looks like." Patience is a virtue, Kilmartin. Keep repeating that to yourself. And remember, these are fellow mutants who have been mistreated. They need extra consideration. "I'd appreciate it if you could point him out to me."

Snicker. "See that Great White out there? That's the lieutenant."

And there were no boats on the beach.

Okay, remember Adam's request. Be nice to the fellows with the teeth, no matter how tough it is. Jesse pasted on his best salesman-type smile. "I'm not even going to pretend to match you guys in the water. Would you ask the lieutenant to come in for a moment? I have a request for him from Dr. Morrison and Dr. Kane."

The blue looked pointedly at Jesse's waist. "I don't see no stick."

"Do I need one?" Jesse regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. The shark mutant went stiff, and Jesse tried to repair the damage. "I was hoping that common courtesy would do the trick."

Better. But still no love lost. "I'll get him," the blue said. He trotted off, diving cleanly into the surf with the same feral grace that Shalimar showed so effortlessly. It didn't take long before he returned, a Great White in tow.

Lt. Vanderworthy was big, and not an ounce of fat on him. His skin too had the same scaly appearance of his fellow shark mutants but where Private Tyler had a blue tinge, Vanderworthy's skin was white verging on silver. Droplets of ocean water dripped off, shining in the bright tropical sunlight. He topped Jesse by another head, and the molecular would have bet that the man's biceps had a greater circumference than Jesse's own thighs. Vanderworthy was just plain big.

But not stupid. Dark eyes, almost violet, glinted with intelligence as they assessed the visitor foolish enough to walk among the sharks.

"People know you're down here, mister?" Vanderworthy asked too casually.

"They do," Jesse replied, recognizing the threat. "They also know what I'm doing down here."

"Which is?"

"Inviting you to meet with Dr. Morrison and Dr. Kane. At your convenience," Jesse added, not demanding but not subservient, either.

"And if I refuse? That doesn't sound like an order to me."

"It's not," Jesse told him promptly. "It's an invitation."

"Like I said, if I refuse?"

Jesse shrugged. "I imagine they'll find a way around you. Maybe invite someone junior to you. Work with the data they've got, maybe. Be easier if you joined in."

Vanderworthy eyed him curiously. "That's different. Around here, people are pretty quick to tell us shark types what to do."

"I'm different," Jesse acknowledged.

"Civilian, for one thing."

"Got me there."

"Not a mutant, for another. Even though you run with them. Don't you go thinking that you know what it's like, being a mutant."

"Wrong on that count," Jesse replied evenly.

That stopped Vanderworthy. The mutant's eye went black, then back to normal, and Jesse knew that he was being perused more thoroughly than ever before, using senses that no man ever knew existed—before ferals.

Vanderworthy completed his scan. "You're not like your friend with the electrical field, and you're not any kind of animal mutant. What kind of freak are you? If you really are a freak."

Jesse refused to get ruffled. "First of all, we tossed the word 'freak' out of our vocabulary a long time ago. Tended to interfere with living a reasonable existence. Second, in answer to your question, I'm a molecular. So yes, I have a pretty good idea of what you've been going through. I'm one of the few people who can honestly say been there, done that, got the tee shirt and bruises to prove it. So, what do you say? Coming with?"

Vanderworthy was half way there. "And this boss of yours?"

"Adam Kane. A decent man. He's treated me better than my own father." Which is a story unto itself, but you don't have to know that.

"A mutant?"

"Don't think so, but the firepower he has upstairs keeps me wondering." Jesse tapped his own head. "If it can be done, he'll find a way to solve a problem. I trust him."

"So I'm supposed to trust him."

"No." Jesse put his honest salesman smile back on. "Trust has to be earned. For now, just talk to him. You can decide later whether or not you can trust him."

"And you."

"And me," Jesse acknowledged. "Look, if you want to get philosophical, we can grab a couple beers later tonight. Me, I'm getting out of this hot sun. I don't have the option of breathing underwater like some mutants I know."

Vanderworthy startled him with a hearty guffaw. "All right. I'll come meet your boss. You've convinced me." He fell into step beside Jesse, needing only one stride to match Jesse's two. "So what the hell is a molecular?"

Mission accomplished. Now all I have to do is get him to follow me home without biting my head off. "Let's just say I don't have a problem with losing my house keys. Getting in and out of places is not an issue."

"Really."

Oops. Lots of interest there. What did I say? Jesse shrugged nonchalantly. "It's a gift."

"Sounds like a good one. You'd be pretty good to have around for robbing a bank vault."

"Yeah, but I promised my mother that I'd use my gift for Good, not Evil." Jesse gave the words the proper capitalization, hoping that the shark mutant lieutenant would drop it. There was some serious thinking going on behind those cold black eyes… "Honestly, it's not any big thing. I don't use it all that much. Most of the time Adam has me sitting behind a computer. Fort Knox is safe. Hey," Jesse objected as a soldier pushed by them, shoving Jesse off of the path. "Watch where you're going." He peered more closely. "Isn't that one of your guys?"

Vanderworthy didn't look twice. "Yeah. Don't bother with him. We don't."

"Looks a little different." And the shark mutant did, Jesse realized. He looked somehow…flatter…than the others. "Different DNA?"

"Yeah. That's Angel. DNA from the angel shark. A fish that hides itself on the bottom of the ocean floor and grabs whatever comes along. Morrison says she was going for camouflage, and that's what she got. I'd stay away from him, if I were you."

"Oh? Why is that?"

Vanderworthy's stride never altered. "The rest of us, we took the change pretty well. Felt pretty good, once you got into the water and began seeing all the things that normal people don't get to see. But Angel, he's not like us. Just stay out of his way, and things should be fine. And here we are, at the lab."

Saved by the bell. Jesse pulled open the screen door.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Feel that?"

"Ouch! Yes." Brennan bit back a curse. He clutched at the edges of the stretcher, willing the sudden agony to seep from his butt through his hands into the hard and unfeeling metal where it wouldn't hurt so much.

"We'll give the anesthetic a bit more time to sink in. You were lucky it didn't shatter the bone. We'd be flying you back to the mainland." Adam turned away to clink some of his stainless steel tools together. Brennan caught sight of Dr. Morrison's face. The female doctor was assisting, and the thoughts running through her mind weren't hard to decipher: nice ass, even with a hole in it. The woman clearly wasn't dead yet. Brennan flushed.

Adam was on more mundane matters. "Neither of you saw who fired the shot?"

"Single person, but too far away to tell if they were mutant or normal," Shalimar reported. "As soon as we finish here, I'll head up to the ridge and take a look around. I should be able to identify who it was by the scent." She patted Brennan on the hand, also unable to tear her gaze away from the fascinating sight that his naked and bleeding rump had become, Brennan noted bitterly. I want you looking at my gluteals with something other than pity, woman!

"It had to have been one of the sharkies," boomed an entering voice. Bayliss strode in, shark stick dangling at his side. "I came as soon as I heard. What's the damage?" He caught sight of Brennan, lying flat on his belly on the clinic stretcher, bullet wound open and still bleeding. "Good one there, boy, but I can think of better things you could be doing with that ass. How bad is it?"

"The bullet's lodged in muscle tissue," Adam replied tersely, "and I'm about to remove it. If you don't mind?"

Bayliss waved his hand magnanimously. "Go ahead, doc. Don't let me stop you."

"A little privacy?" Adam all but snarled. "Martha, first thing after this, get a screen in here. I realize there isn't enough space for a private examining room, but we should be able to protect our patients from being gawked at by anyone walking in the front door."

"I'll look into it," Morrison promised. "We haven't needed it before this."

"Yes, you have. You just didn't bother to think of it."

"We'll get it," Morrison promised again, trying to mollify the other doctor.

"Thanks," Brennan muttered, clearly thinking too little, too late. "Ouch!"

"Brennan, that's betadine. I'm sterilizing the area; it shouldn't hurt. Unless you want the wound to get infected?"

"It's cold," Brennan complained. "What are you doing now? I feel something, but I'm not sure what."

"I'm probing for the bullet. What do you feel?"

"Very little," Brennan had to admit. "I wish I could see what you're doing."

"Actually, you really don't." Shalimar's face had gone green, and she finally turned her attention away from Brennan's ass. She swallowed hard.

"Not cut out for the nursing profession, Shal?" Brennan tried to tease, squeezing her hand. His hand muscles weren't working properly, he noted with dismay. Crap, what a time for the effects of blood loss to kick in. Passing out probably wouldn't help at a time like this. A familiar and unwelcome feeling of nausea started to seep into his gut. Blackness crept around the edges of his vision, and he started breathing through his mouth, trying to keep the contents of his stomach where they belonged. Dammit, I really don't want to pass out. Adam, hurry it up!

Nothing wrong with his hearing, not yet. The screen door banged, and out of the corner of his eye Brennan saw Jesse enter with one of the biggest men Brennan had ever seen. Clearly a shark mutant, too: he was covered in silvery scales beneath his fatigues, and nothing entirely human ever had those round black eyes. Crap. A shark mutant. One of the guys who was convinced that Bayliss had brought Brennan in as a breathing, walking shark stick to get the shark mutants under control. The last thing Brennan heard coming from the lieutenant's mouth before the rushing noise in his ears completely overwhelmed him was:

"Nice ass."

Crap.