In contrast to the rest of the buildings, Colonel Bayliss's office was air-conditioned. Where every other facility took advantage of windows and ushered in slender breezes to keep cool, Bayliss had had installed a window unit and cranked it up until visitors learned to bring a sweater with them. Clearly a man whose formative years were in the northern climes.

That didn't matter to Adam or Shalimar. Tempers were high, and Shalimar had had enough 'heat' to last for the next few years.

Adam wasted no time. "Where's Brennan Mulwray?"

"Your man? The one that got shot?"

"The very one. Where is he, colonel?"

"Last I saw, he was in the clinic, under your care, Dr. Kane—"

"I'm not in a joking mood," Adam interrupted. "Your men took him away, claiming that they had to keep him safe from the sniper. Where is he?"

Bayliss frowned. "I gave no such orders, doctor."

"What are you talking about? Captain Caruthers came to the clinic not two hours ago and removed Brennan forcibly. He said it was by your command, colonel."

"Then he lied." Bayliss leaned forward, placing his hands on his paper-filled desk. "Or you are, Dr. Kane. Dr. Morrison came to me earlier today, recommending that we send you back to the mainline. That you're agitating the sharkies into a frenzy, promising things we have no intention of providing them. I'm beginning to think that she's right. This is not a whore-house, Dr. Kane, and we do not procure women for lonely soldiers whether or not they are mutants. This is a military base—"

"This is a front for a black market operation!" Adam yelled. "Those mutants are being kidnapped and assaulted, and the results sold to drug rings! You're turning a blind eye to the whole thing—"

"I am not having you throw accusations around without proof—"

"The proof is right in front of you—"

"Dammit, Kane—"

"Gentlemen!" Shalimar yelled, slamming her hand down onto the desk with a sharp retort. Both men, startled, shut up. "You're so busy yelling at each other that neither one of you is listening. Now, be quiet!

"You." She turned on Bayliss as the safer of the two. "Your Captain Caruthers took Brennan from the clinic. I was there; I heard and saw him. If Caruthers is not here, then you need to find him now. And you." Adam was next. "Stop accusing Colonel Bayliss until we have all the answers. I was at the site where the sniper was, and where one of the shark mutants was attacked. Colonel Bayliss wasn't there. His scent wasn't there, Adam."

Shalimar turned now so that she was facing both men. "What we need is a way out of this mess. We need to find Brennan. We need to get Jesse out of the shark mutants' hands. We need to stop the black marketers from preying on the shark mutants. That about cover the highlights?"

"We need to stop the shark mutants from terrorizing my men," Bayliss told her. "One look at those teeth grinning at you, and--"

"Stop the black marketers, and the terrorizing will stop," Adam replied. "The shark mutants are scared, and scared men will do foolish things to defend themselves. And don't try to tell me that they aren't men, colonel," he added, wagging his finger at Bayliss. "They're just as much your men as any other on this base. And, speaking of men, where's mine? Where's Brennan?"

"And I told you, I don't know," Bayliss returned testily. "Sergeant!" he bellowed to the outer office. "Find Captain Caruthers ASAP! I want to know what his part in all of this is."

"And Dr. Morrison," Adam tacked on. "There are a few questions that I have for her, like why she told the shark mutants that the skin problem was insurmountable. Fixing that problem alone, colonel, will go a long way toward resolving the issues on this base."

But an hour later, all were forced to admit that neither Captain Caruthers, Dr. Morrison, nor Brennan Mulwray could be found.

"Damn strange," was Bayliss's opinion. "Caruthers is a good second. Something had to have happened to him."

"The same for Martha Morrison," Adam agreed. "This isn't the scientist that I knew." Way back when I believed in Genomex, went unsaid. Shalimar could hear the pain in her mentor's voice.

"We need to find them," Shalimar insisted. "And we need help." She lifted her chin. "We need the shark mutants to help us search this island. They're the only ones we can trust."

"Trust? I don't think so, little lady. Those sharkies—"

"Any of your non-mutant men could be black marketers," Shalimar said firmly. "We need the shark mutants."

"Much as I hate to admit it, she's right, colonel," Adam said. "It would take the three of us days to search this base, not knowing who to trust." He sat back down in his chair, prepared to wait. "Call in Lt. Vanderworthy."

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Not good.

The clinic stretcher had gotten even harder, if that was possible, and the hole in his nether portion was throbbing worse than it ever had. He was cold and shivering, and his head hurt. Where the hell was Adam? He'd never, in the time that Brennan had known him, let any of his 'kids' get this bad. Drugs, dude, pain-killers prescribed by his own personal physician for legitimate personal purposes. Time to use a few.

At least it was dark.

Where were the covers, the blanket? Why couldn't he hear the voices of Adam, of Shalimar and Jesse, even of Dr. Morrison—

Shit.

It all came back to him: the soldiers dragging him out of the clinic; literally dragging him, since independent locomotion had been beyond his capabilities at the time. Probably still was, if the way he felt was any indication. Adam had been right, Brennan needed more treatment and rest. And this situation so did not fit the doctor's prescription. What the hell was going on?

He must have passed out, because remembering how he got to his present location was also a blur. It clearly wasn't Bayliss's quarters or anything close to that. Brennan couldn't imagine the colonel putting up with this lack of amenities. Which meant that Brennan was going to have the make the supreme sacrifice of opening his eyes to figure out just where the hell he was, what obstacles whoever had put in his way to keep him here, and hopefully as much additional information as he needed to blast the crap out of each and every one of them.

He felt for his comm. link; missing. No surprise there. Someone knew about that and knew how to deactivate it. Couldn't use something if it wasn't there, and as for location? Two strikes against him. Not only was it not on his finger attached to the rest of his body, but Adam and Jesse had no handy computer equipment with detection devices.

Okay, eyes: open. Thus commanded, his eyes realized that they were glued shut with sleep. Brennan rubbed until he could pry them open, then wished that he hadn't.

Note to self: islands have caves. Not particularly deep ones—Sanctuary came to mind—but a cave nonetheless. It kept off the wind from three sides, and if a passing shower came along he would only get soggy instead of drenched. Wonderful. He could see himself explaining to Adam about how he came down with pneumonia by not having sense enough to get out of the rain after being shot.

This was so not turning out to be an enjoyable mission. White sandy beaches? Warm ocean sea breezes? Lazing in the tropical sun? Brennan devoutly wished that the next mission would be to some place more pleasant. Antarctica, maybe.

Three soldiers stood in front of the erstwhile cave, weapons held casually against their chests, ready to swing into action should anyone approach. Brennan felt for the electrons at his fingertips. Gone. Empty. Dead battery time. His fever had siphoned all his energy away.

Fever? Damn. That's why he felt so miserable, cold and shivering. Sure wasn't the tropical sun.

One of the soldiers glanced in at him. "I'd stay down if I were you," he mentioned in a casual tone of voice. "Last time you stood up, you nearly cracked your skull open. You're as stupid as the shark mutants. Must be a mutant thing, stupidity."

Maybe. But, obnoxious as it was, the soldier's advice sounded like the best thing for now. In another year, when he felt better, then he'd blast them into their constituent atoms. For now, time for another nap. Assuming that the shakes would let him.

Damn it, what good was having a feral around if she couldn't track him down? How big was this damn island anyway?

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"No. Sir," Lt. Vanderworthy tacked on, keeping the military respect present in words if not in actions.

"That was not a request, lieutenant."

"I'm aware of that, sir. And again I must respectfully decline to comply, sir." Vanderworthy stood ramrod straight in Colonel Bayliss's office, arms clasped behind his back, staring off at a point in space six inches from the colonel's nose.

But he couldn't fail to see that nose growing redder and redder by the moment as the colonel's blood pressure rose in frustration. And neither could Adam.

"Are you refusing to obey a direct order?"

Vanderworthy remained at attention. "Yes, sir, I am, sir."

"I'll have you court-martialed for this, lieutenant!"

"Yes, sir." And the shark mutant couldn't help but add, "that won't make any difference in my circumstances, sir. I am already a prisoner, and held without trial or military due process. As long as that fence is up, I and my men are being held against our will on this base, sir."

"That fence is there by my order, lieutenant!"

"Yes, sir. And none of us has left this island since we volunteered to be part of Dr. Morrison's experiment, sir."

"You volunteered!"

"Yes, sir. But none of us volunteered to become prisoners on an island in the middle of the ocean. That was not what we were told this experiment would be. We were offered an opportunity to enhance our physical characteristics so that we could better serve our country, sir."

"You're not prisoners!" Bayliss expostulated.

"Begging the colonel's pardon, but we are, sir. The rest of the men here on this base go on leave every few weeks, and home for a few weeks on the mainland to see family. None of us mutants have left this island since the experiment began, with the exception of Private Tyler who went on a mission. We can't go home, and we can't even take our leave out at sea. Our communications are censored and confiscated. We're prisoners, sir," Vanderworthy finished, almost pleading with the colonel to understand.

The colonel was not in an understanding sort of mood. "I am ordering you to participate in this search for Mulwray!"

"I'm sorry, sir. No, sir."

"I'll have you court-martialed—"

"What do you want?" Adam broke in.

"Sir?"

"What do you want?" Adam repeated. "I don't have time for this arguing. Brennan is missing, Jesse is trapped out at sea, and Shalimar and I can't search this whole island ourselves. What do you want for your help? I'm already making the ointment which will solve your," he coughed, "social problems."

Finally. Someone who was listening. Vanderworthy unbent slightly. "The electric fence comes down."

"Done." Adam turned to Bayliss. "Turn off the fence. Right now."

"No."

"Turn off the fence, or I'll do it myself."

"Go right ahead," Bayliss challenged. "It won't work. The controls here in my office are frozen solid. They don't work any more. The only way to take down the fence is to blow the control booth up, and that control booth is thirty feet underwater. But you take enough explosives to do the job, the other nations will notice and think we're going to war. You want that, Dr. Kane? You want to start a war? Over one man? Even over thirty?"

"You can explain the situation—"

"Before or after they start lobbing bombs in this direction? Politicians aren't the calmest of people, or haven't you noticed that, Dr. Kane?" Bayliss too was frustrated at the situation. "Despite the lieutenant's empassioned pleas, there are very good reasons why he and his men are not being paraded in front of the world. One hint of the kind of experiments that are going on and the world will move that much closer to a nuclear holocaust. Perhaps you're willing to take that responsibility, Dr. Kane, but I am not. And I am in charge of this base."

"Not now you're not," Adam fired back. "You've got a black market going on under your nose, you've got a sniper taking pot shots at my man, and you've got an entire platoon of shark mutants who are defying your commands. Does that sound like you're in charge? Sit down and shut up while I fix your problems!" He turned back to Lt. Vanderworthy with a false calm. "I can tell Jesse Kilmartin to phase into the shack if you can get him down the thirty feet of sea water before he drowns. But I need your word, and the word of your men, that you will not expose this experiment to outsiders no matter what the temptation. Colonel Bayliss is correct; the world is a very uneasy place at this point in history and revealing this experiment could tilt things in the wrong direction. None of us sitting here want that on our conscience, and there will no longer be a fence between you and the public."

"Done." There was no hesitation in Vanderworthy's voice.

"You can speak for your men."

"My men and I have already had this conversation, Dr. Kane. Consider it a fact, for both me and my men."

"Good. What else to assure your cooperation?"

"Crack down on the black market. No more kidnapping and assaulting my men."

"And how am I supposed to accomplish that?" Bayliss wanted to know. "Commanders have been trying to do that for centuries. You expect me to solve that in twenty four hours?"

"I'm not talking about the entire black market," Vanderworthy returned, "just the one that assaults shark mutants. The little pilferage that goes on to keep the jeeps in running condition can stay."

"Done," Adam said before Bayliss could open his mouth again. "We'll set up a sting operation while the rest of the shark mutants are searching the island. If we can have one of you act as bait, I'll have Shalimar film the whole operation as it takes place and then take down the guilty parties. We'll have them identified and exposed, and put in front of a military tribunal. Good enough?"

"Dr. Kane," Lt. Vanderworthy said with a sideways look at his commanding officer, "you have a deal."