"He lost more blood than I'd like, but he'll be all right." Adam straightened up from examining his unconscious patient tucked in on an uncomfortable but secure narrow stretcher, side rails raised to prevent Brennan from accidentally rolling off and bouncing onto the cold tile floor. "No permanent damage. He'll be good as new in a few days." He turned back to Shalimar who was perched on a stool on the other side of the stretcher, Brennan's hand clutched in hers. "Now, what happened?"
"Good question, doc. I'd like to know the answer to that one," Bayliss chimed in. "I've got my men scouring the area."
Adam frowned, and Shalimar knew what he was thinking: with all the spoors now tracked all over the site, the feral wouldn't be able to distinguish who the shooter was from the investigators. Bayliss had just ruined that clue. Shalimar bit her lip. Damn. Wish I'd gone out immediately, instead of staying here to make sure that Brennan was going to be all right. He looked so pale…
"The next question is: why?" Bayliss moved on. "Was the shooter aiming for your boy, or was it random? And if it wasn't random, why did he miss?" He glanced at his aide, trailing after him, notebook in hand. "Take a memo: more practice time on the firing ranges. If they were shooting to kill, they damn well ought to get it right!"
"Yes, sir," the aide murmured, jotting it down.
"But why?" Adam persisted. "Let's assume for the sake of argument that Brennan was the target? Why? To whom? What threat does he pose?"
"It's because he's a living shark stick," Shalimar told him. "Private Tyler explained it to us earlier today. He said that Brennan 'glowed'."
"He's an elemental?" Morrison's face cleared. "Of course! That makes perfect sense. Of course they'd see him as a threat."
"Doctor?" Bayliss needed more explanation.
Morrison was only too happy to oblige. "Mr. Mulwray is an elemental; one, I presume, with an affinity for electricity. He's someone who can power up a light bulb at will. You'll never need a double A battery with him around. A useful talent under certain circumstances, but minor and not threatening—unless you're a shark mutant. They must be afraid that he can generate an electrical shock as strong as a shark stick, even though that's impossible. No mutant yet discovered has that sort of strength. Genetic science simply hasn't progressed that far. Besides, what use would it be? The world doesn't know about our shark mutants and wouldn't be interested in developing a defense such as Mr. Mulwray, even if he could affect a shark mutant."
Two sets of mutant eyes, one feral and one molecular, strayed to Adam's. Adam kept his face blank, allowing Dr. Morrison to finish her explanation.
It was enough for Colonel Bayliss. He turned on Lt. Vanderworthy. "Lieutenant? Is she right? You see this man—this mutant—as a threat?"
Vanderworthy came to attention. "Yes, sir. He has the potential to kill us with a mere touch of his hand."
"Nonsense," Morrison scoffed. "It would take a higher jolt that anyone can muster to do that, and certainly not someone who hasn't been artificially enhanced. He'd need to carry around some sort of amplifier on his back in order to do what you're suggesting. You're over-reacting, lieutenant."
"Yes, ma'am." Vanderworthy kept the disbelief off of his face. "I'll inform the men in my command. No threat, ma'am."
"We'll prove it later, when he wakes up," Morrison pushed, sensing the doubt. "We'll run Mr. Mulwray through some tests with you. You'll see."
"Yes, ma'am."
But Bayliss had other thoughts. "You say he can control electricity? Martha, why didn't you tell me that Dr. Kane was bringing a mutant with him? I ought to have been informed. Dangerous people, mutants. Have to be handled properly. Have to be secured."
"Because I didn't know," Morrison told him patiently.
"My fault," Adam put in easily, taking the blame. "It's common for me to bring my team with me, colonel. I find them invaluable in solving genetically based problems. Of all sorts," he finished, leaving out the minor point that Brennan wasn't the only New Mutant to arrive within the last forty-eight hours. Or that Adam's 'solutions' didn't always involve chemicals and genetics and test tubes. Sometimes a good old-fashioned, high-spirited fist fight did wonders for resolving issues. He turned to Vanderworthy. "Lieutenant, I'd appreciate some of your time. I'd like to know what it is that you 'see' when you look at Brennan."
"At your convenience, sir." Vanderworthy was still stiff. It didn't take a Kane-level genius to see how much cooperation the shark mutant would give, not with both Bayliss and Dr. Morrison present.
Adam came to a decision. He nodded, musing to himself, pulling at a non-existent beard on his chin. "There are some things that need looking at. Time for a little delegation. Shalimar, go up to the ridge. I know it's probably hopeless by now, but see what you can discover."
"Captain Carruthers, you go with the little lady," Bayliss hastily instructed his aide. "Wouldn't want some of the men to get the wrong idea. Some of 'em can be a little frisky."
Adam wrestled a smile into submission, having seen the results of when an unwanted suitor became a bit too aggressive. Captain Carruthers would be in more danger than Shalimar Fox. He moved on. "Jesse, I want you to stay here. I don't expect Brennan to wake up for the next several hours, but there's a lot of data that I've uncovered, and if you could push that through the computer I'd appreciate it."
"You got it, Adam. This computer here, or shall I access the ones back in Sanctuary?"
"You can do that? Bounce it off a satellite with enough clarity to access Sanctuary?"
"What can I say? I'm good, Adam."
"You're also modest," the scientist grinned. "By all means, whisk it through Sanctuary's computers. This I've got to see." Then he sobered. "And be careful. I know that Colonel Bayliss has stationed men outside the clinic, but that sniper is still out there. And this clinic has a lot of windows." He glanced over at the sleeping elemental, noting that one such window gave direct aim at the man. Prodded, Shalimar pulled the shade closed, and Adam relaxed but only a fraction. Once again he turned his attention to Lt. Vanderworthy. "Lieutenant, would you show me where you and your men prefer to spend your hours?"
That got Bayliss's attention. He started to stand up in alarm. "Dr. Kane—"
"Oh, I'll be quite safe. This is a military base," Adam said. "Besides, Lt. Vanderworthy, in addition to being a mutant, is a highly trained Special Ops man. I couldn't be in safer company. Right, lieutenant?" he challenged, a mischievous light in his eye, deliberately misunderstanding the colonel's apprehension.
"Yes, sir." A hint of stiffness had left the lieutenant's own posture. The shark mutant clearly enjoyed Dr. Kane's blithe riding over of Bayliss's concerns. "I would be happy to escort Dr. Kane where ever he would like to go."
"There. You see?" The corners of Adam's mouth quirked upward, playing the 'genius scientist without a shred of common sense' role to the hilt. "See you in a few hours. Martha, I should have some answers for your dilemma by tomorrow."
A groan from Jesse's side of the room. "You're not planning to work all night again, are you? And keep me up with you?"
"The price of scientific advancement, Jesse. I'd get working on that computer link, if I were you." Adam Kane turned back to Lt. Vanderworthy. "Lead on, lieutenant."
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Captain Carruthers wasn't obese, but he was out of shape, despite being in the military. Shalimar trotted along the trail that led to the top of the hill where the shooter had been, drinking in the sights, sounds, and smells of the tropical humidity and glorying in the simple fact of being outdoors. Carruthers, on the other hand, was trying hard not to pant either from the heat or from the closeness of the delectable morsel known as Ms. Fox. Shalimar was well aware of his interest, well aware of the interest of almost all of the men on this island, and chose to ignore them all. There was enough trouble brewing without stirring the pot.
She arrived at their destination several yards ahead of the captain, using the time to look around, eyes yellowed and feral. Adam was right; the scene had been trampled into incomprehensibility by the horde of soldiers eager to apprehend the shooter. There wasn't a clear trail to follow any longer. Had Shalimar gone after the assassin immediately, it would have been a different story. But a pack member was wounded—Shalimar bit her lip at the thought of her teammate lying unconscious on the stretcher, the bullet bloody on the tray where Adam had dropped it after extraction—and getting Brennan to medical help had outweighed all other considerations.
Sniffing first. With an arch of his brows, Adam had communicated as clearly as Emma would have that telling Colonel Bayliss that Adam had brought more than one mutant along could wait. Adam wouldn't lie to the man, nor to Dr. Morrison, but it was obvious that relations between New Mutants and 'normals' was far from cordial. Adam wasn't above keeping a few secrets to himself, not when those secrets might help them all to resolve this situation. Yes, a bit of 'better living through chemistry' was definitely on the docket, but some lessons in how to handle subordinates was also a priority for this small community. 'Team Building 101', anyone?
Which meant that sniffing in feral form in front of Colonel Bayliss's aide was out of the question. Shalimar deliberately left the man behind so that she could swiftly peruse the territory and then revert back to her usual brown eyes before he could figure out that she too was a feral.
There was nothing to see, or smell—or, rather, too much. The ground had been gone over by not only normals but several shark mutants as well. There was no way to tell who the shooter was. Shalimar identified the spoors of not less than thirty soldiers, and it could have been any of them.
All right, time to do the Sherlock Holmes thing. Assumption one: Brennan had not been a random target. The sharpshooter had deliberately aimed at him, and his aim had fortunately been poor. Good enough under the circumstances, but not good enough to kill the elemental. Who would want the elemental dead? Simple: every shark mutant. Contrary to Dr. Morrison's beliefs, Brennan Mulwray had enough electrical power in him to knock a horse for a loop. And every shark mutant knew it. And feared the elemental.
Okay, the twenty-six shark mutants were the obvious suspects. Shalimar took another deep whiff, heedful that Captain Carruthers was almost at the site. The scent of the people here was all male, so that let out the three women of the shark mutant society that Shalimar had yet to meet. Good, twenty-three suspects. No, twenty-two; Shalimar didn't note that Blue's spoor was among those present, and neither was Lt. Vanderworthy, bringing the number down to twenty-one. Progress made. Unless it wasn't a mutant, in which case the hundred other soldiers on the base were also suspects. At least this isn't New York City with its how many million inhabitants…
Carruthers arrived, leaning heavily against a tree and perspiring, trying to make it look natural. "You…need…to stay…with me…, little lady," he gasped.
Shalimar looked guilelessly back at him. "I just couldn't wait," she purred, simpering to keep the man off guard. "I'm so worried about Brennan." Giving the hint that maybe, just maybe, she preferred her teammate's affections over that of the obviously far more attractive—right!—base second in command.
"He'll be okay." Carruthers managed to get that out in one short breath. "Just a flesh wound."
Right. Didn't matter, because the bullet didn't go through your ass. But Shalimar merely smiled back him, and began to step in a spiral pattern out from where the shooter had hid himself, searching for anything leftover that Bayliss's own men had missed for her to find.
The bush thathad camouflagedthe shooter was large, with several branches broken to accommodate the bulk. So, the assassin was a large man. That eliminated the ones under six foot and under two hundred pounds. That didn't eliminate many of the shark mutants, Shalimar thought. She hadn't met all that many but from what she remembered from Shark's Cove, most weighed in at large or larger. The bullet casing had already been recovered, Shalimar knew, and identified as belonging to any one of the nearly two hundred rifles on the island base. Trying to locate the sniper by identifying the weapon was an exercise in futility. Shalimar wasn't about to bother.
She ranged farther afield, risking a moment of two of going feral when she thought that Carruthers couldn't see. The area had been trodden over, but here and there another trail sallied forth. One here, and she identified it as one of the shark mutants that she'd met in Shark's Cove: Danzig, the mutant with an attitude. Now there was a good possibility. Danzig knew that Brennan was a danger to him, was as angry as any of the mutants if not more, and had the training. A good possibility. Shalimar resolved to follow up.
More scents. Carruthers was there, but not Bayliss. There were at least half a dozen other 'normal' spoors heading in this direction…hm. A particular odor permeated the grove nearby, and Shalimar had no trouble identifying it: sex. Two or more adults had come to this place and had engaged in activity that would earn a triple X rating in any movie theater. Had this been another type of location, Shalimar would have recognized this spot as a hang out for teenagers in search of a place to do the nasty, away from adult and disapproving eyes. But here, on an island base? A military base with essentially no women?
'Don't ask, don't tell.' The slogan ran through her mind, even as Shalimar observed the beaten down fronds that someone lay upon, the broken branches, the leaves that turned this place into a forbidden bower. But there was something odd about the place, something that Shalimar couldn't quite identify. This was something more than a meeting place for a lovers' tryst.
Carruthers watched her through narrowed eyes. "What're you looking for, little lady?"
"I'm not sure." Shalimar stepped over the make-shift bed, squatting down to examine an oily substance that dotted the area. There was a blob of it on this leaf, and on that, as if it had been sprayed from whatever had created it. Another blotch had hit a palm trunk, and more dripped down the side of a rock. It was from that substance that most of the odor emanated. She poked at it: slimy stuff, and viscous, but harmless enough. If it had been poison, her sensitive nose would have detected that fact immediately.
"Hey, better not go touching things," Carruthers said, alarmed. "You never know what's safe and what's not on this island. Got lots of tropical plants here. Bunch of crazy herbs, we've found. Do strange things to your mind. Careful with the plants."
"Maybe you're right," Shalimar lied, wiping her fingers on her shorts. But the stuff piqued her interest, and something told her that it was an important piece to this puzzle. Did it have something to do with whoever shot Brennan? Proximity seemed to say so. There was that combination of spoors in this grove, both mutant and normal, which was also odd. From what Shalimar had seen, a grouping like this, especially one that included shark mutants, wasn't about to happen. She grinned to herself; Romeo and Romeo, mutant style? She resolved to tell Adam about this, maybe come back later to collect a sampling of that odd substance for the scientist to play with.
"Time to go back, little lady," Carruthers announced. "You get what you came for? You saw the spot?"
"I saw," Shalimar confirmed. Captain Carruthers had the air of a man who had taken a child to the zoo and was now ready to return home and put his feet up. "We can head back."
"Good. Little lady like you ought not to be traipsing through these woods."
What, it'll ruin my complexion? Shalimar bit her lip. She smiled sweetly, and let Carruthers set a leisurely pace back to the clinic.