Triple Threat - James Patterson Page 0,62

circles. She’s only been at the lab for a few days and doesn’t know her way around. Standing paralyzed, she debates where to go…

“Chloe, this way!” A familiar voice.

Dr. Sarah Lipchitz—a young biologist Chloe met when they first arrived. She’d tried to bond with Chloe over their shared “love” of Oz. At first Chloe was put off by this younger, perhaps prettier, woman who wouldn’t shut up about how wonderful her husband was. Of course Chloe believed that Oz had remained faithful, and it was clear that Sarah was just feeling sad and lonely and scared. Chloe had begun to warm up to her.

And thank God she did. That woman might just save their lives.

With Sarah in the lead, the group dashes down the center-left hallway. Sure enough, they soon spot a bright red EXIT sign above a door that clearly leads outside.

Suddenly, a bullet streaks by and ricochets off the wall, just inches from Chloe’s head.

She screams and glances behind her. Helen must be looking for a way out, too: half-screaming in some African language, half-roaring in rage, she’s coming up behind them!

“Keep running, don’t stop!” Sarah urges. Chloe runs, pulling Eli at her side.

They finally reach the exit and burst outside into the hot desert evening.

“One of the Jeeps!” Sarah yells. “They leave the keys in the ignition. Go, go!”

The women and Eli scurry over the asphalt in a parking lot filled with official laboratory vehicles. They make it to one of several tan SUVs. Sure enough, it’s unlocked.

They all pile inside: Sarah behind the wheel, Chloe in the front seat, holding Eli on her lap.

Helen, still running after them, fires twice more—shattering the rear windshield—as Sarah starts the engine and burns rubber.

The Jeep is heading straight for a metal checkpoint gate that is both unmanned and closed tight. They’re picking up speed—but so is Helen.

Right above those ominous little words OBJECTS IN MIRROR ARE CLOSER THAN THEY APPEAR, Chloe sees the feral woman starting to sprint—fast enough to leave Usain Bolt in the dust. She’s gaining on them.

“Now what?” Chloe shouts. “We’re trapped!”

Sarah keeps the pedal to the floor. “Just hang on!”

At the very last second, she cuts the wheel away from the checkpoint and the Jeep barrels straight through the chain-link fence.

At least they’ve made it out of the burning facility, but Helen has, too.

She continues chasing them, getting terrifyingly close. She fires the last few bullets in her pistol, striking the back bumper and popping a rear tire. The Jeep keeps going, picking up more and more speed, Sarah finally putting some real distance between them.

Chloe spins around in her seat just in time to watch the feral human reach a point of frustration and slow down—then abruptly change course and run instead toward the vast desert surrounding the blazing, smoking lab.

“Mon dieu!” is all Chloe can whisper in relief. Panting heavily, her pulse racing, she adds, “Merci, Sarah. You saved us.”

The two women trade a look and glance back at Helen. She’s already disappeared into the dry expanse.

Chapter 32

After failing to reach a single soul inside the Idaho lab, I’ve started freaking out. A lot. It seems more and more likely that something awful may have happened there.

And that Chloe and Eli might be in danger. Again.

So I change tack. Googling the number on the iPhone the nurse lent me, I call the Department of Energy’s main switchboard. Finally I speak to a human being…in media affairs. All he’ll tell me is that, yes, there’s been a recent “incident” at the lab and “multiple persons are still unaccounted for.”

Unaccounted for? Not what a guy wants to hear when he’s three thousand miles and half an ocean away, and his wife and son might be involved.

“Get dressed, Mr. Oz,” says Captain Fileri, marching back into my room. He tosses me a pair of sneakers, khakis, and a blue button-down to replace the flimsy hospital gown I’m wearing. “We’re wheels up in thirty minutes.”

Fileri explains he’s just spoken with the White House. Despite the recent loss of nearly two-thirds of the Animal Crisis Task Force scientists, Washington is scrambling to keep the team’s critical work moving forward. They’re assembling a whole new group of experts, and they’re ordering me to return to DC via military plane to be among them. Immediately.

“That all sounds fine and dandy, Captain,” I say, “right after we make a quick pit stop to pick up my—”

“That’s a negative,” Fileri snaps. “The command is to evac you and Dr. Freitas off the