Ghostwalker 05 - Deadly Game

and reset the alarms, leaving everything exactly the way he'd found it. Instead of making his way back up to the top of the bluff to join his brother, he began to crawl through the grass to reach the largest building. There was a way in, a duct, a conduit, a tunnel – anything left behind in the cement he could use. There was always a way.
    He used sound, a lesser talent he had and one he wasn't the best at using, but he could bounce it off the cement walls searching for a hollow spot. The cement was thin on top of a spot near the south-facing wall. There were boxes and wooden pallets and crates of all sizes piled around. Obviously the supplies were dropped off nearby and unloaded. He restacked the larger crates and boxes loosely around him to help provide a small shelter while he worked.

    It took a half hour to break through the thin layer, and another few minutes to dump the concrete into the hollow space he found inside. He knew there were often wide areas reinforced with rebar that were left open in between the walls of larger, mainly military compounds, and once inside, no one would hear or detect him as he moved around, hopefully making his way to the lower levels.
    I'm in. He found a crate and slid it over the opening to hide the hole. It would have to do and probably wouldn't be noticeable with so many crates piled around the area. Just as he slipped inside, pulling the crate over him, the doctor's house blew, exploding outward, sending debris raining down and red orange flames billowing with black smoke high into the air.
    Men burst out of the guardhouse and began racing in all directions, silhouetted by the raging fire. An alarm began to sound, breaking the silence of the night along with the roaring of the inferno. Ken paused to watch the house burn. Glass showered down and black spots appeared on the walls, then were consumed by the hungry flames. There was intense satisfaction in knowing no one could get near the place, even as they began to try to tame it with water. It was too late. He'd opened every door to ensure the gas had filled the house and it would look like Dr. Pervert had tried to light one of his many candles, accidentally setting off a bomb and blowing himself across the room, where he struck just right to break his neck.
    Dogs burst out of cages somewhere, from a hidden tunnel to his left. They had known there were dogs, but they hadn't known the animals were kept inside. From his vantage point he could see the door swinging open to allow the dogs to escape into the space between the double fences. Whitney was taking no chances that his women might take advantage of the chaos and try to escape.
    If they have one tunnel, they'll have more, Jack observed.
    Are you clear? Sooner or later they'll get around to sending the dogs to look for someone, just to be on the safe side. I don't think Whitney takes much for granted.
    I'm fine, Jack assured. You know he has to have a couple of escape routes. When this place is taken down, he doesn't intend to be on it. You know he prepared for that. He must have a dozen more laboratories just like this one.
    I figured as much.
    There was a small silence while they listened to flames roaring in anger, threatening the foliage and nearby trees.
    That's a hell of a beautiful fire, Jack commented.
    I want the walls burned, inside and out. He had floor-to-ceiling pictures of them all, Jack. Even when they were children. Whitney not only knew, but encouraged him. It was one of the sickest things I've ever seen.
    Damn good thing the son of a bitch is dead then.
    Ken took one last look at the raging flames, wishing it would take the sick feeling from his stomach, but his belly still rebelled, and he had to fight not to vomit every time he recalled the floor-to-ceiling wall of Mari's pictures. Her life chronicled by a perverted deviant. He wanted to smash something.
    It was unlike him to give in to his violent emotions. When he went out on an assignment, it was always business. He was completely devoid of all feeling, uncaring of anything but getting the job done. When someone tried to kill him, he rarely took it personal; it was part of who and what he was. But this…
    You're falling in love with that girl.
    Go to hell, Jack. It isn't that. She needs protection.
    So do the other women. Are you feeling the same way about them?
    How can I fall in love with someone I just met?
    You're shallow. I've always told you that, but you never listened to me.
    It isn't love.