Tunnels 04, Closer

on the head.
    "Looks a lot like Bartleby," Chester whispered back.
    Then the guard took out a handkerchief and dabbed his eyes, before turning to give the North Block a glance.
    "Let's do our worst," Drake declared, as he walked straight out into the open, with Chester following close behind. "Tag him, will you?"
    The guard only saw them at the last moment. Spitting his cheroot from his mouth and holding up his hand in alarm, he seemed at a loss what to do as the two bizarrely-dressed figures appeared before him, armed with pistols and rifles.
    Chester might have been showing off or it might have just been his less-than-perfect aim, but he shot the dart bang smack in the center of the man's raised palm. He toppled like a felled tree.
    "Don't get too flash," Drake cautioned. "Aim for the trunk of the body -- there's less chance you'll mess up."
    "Okay. Sorry," Chester agreed, as they slowed in front of Colly, who hadn't moved from where she was sitting. She cocked her head to one side as she watched them curiously.
    "Nice kitty," Chester said.
    "Keep your distance -- these animals can be volatile, and you might have just blatted its master," Drake warned.
    Colly also seemed to be affected by the gas, attempting to rub her saucer-sized eyes with her paws, as bubbles of snot foamed at there nostrils.
    As he gave her a wide berth, Chester observed, "This one's smaller than Bartleby. And better looking."
    "That's because she's a female," Drake said.
    "Female? How can you tell?" Chester queried, throwing a backwards look at Colly as they neared the steps of the North Bock.
    "Chester," Drake replied as if exasperated, "Hunters don't have any hair -- you can see everything -- did you really not notice that she was missing a few things Bartleby has?"
    "Um... no... didn't, actually," Chester mumbled in embarrassment, as they entered the building and took a left turn. They hurried down a short corridor and through a pair of swinging doors. Chester found they were in a huge room -- the wall were covered in white tiles, and the linoleum underfoot was so highly waxed it resembled a sheet of dark water. The room was brightly lit, not by the usual luminescent orbs, but by long, strip-light versions of them arranged in several rows across the ceiling. And along one wall stood glass-fronted cubicles, each large enough to accommodate a bench, a couple of chairs, and racks of Petri dishes and test tubes.
    "Isolation cabinets," Drake informed him, as he noticed where Chester was looking. "You can see the air-extraction units on top of them -- it's where they handle infectious agents and prepare cultures. And these are the cold stores where they keep all their specimens," he added, as he turned to the far wall. Three were three very substantial steel doors from around which a light mist was issuing.
    "So what goes on in this place?" Chester asked.
    "It's the main path lab -- there's a smaller one on the floor right above us, but his is where they modify viruses and bacteria, developing them into weapons-grade pathogens, like Dominion."
    Drake had slipped off he Bergen and placed it on a bench. From inside he produced a series of packages the size of telephone directories. They were completely wound in black tape, each with a small keypad, into which he began to type a series of digits. "Setting the timers on the charges," he informed Chester. When he'd finished the last of them, Drake took three with him to the nearest cold store. Opening its door, he was engulfed in a cloud of freezing mist as he slid a charge across the frost-covered floor. Then he slammed the door shut and was just about to move on to the next when he stopped. "Chester, make yourself useful, will you, and put one of these in each corner of the room?"
    After the explosives were in position, Drake and Chester returned to the main entrance.
    "Right, we've got around twenty minutes until this place is reduced to hardcore. Keep a look out for anyone while I distribute a few charges along here." Drake glanced at another pair of doors, which led to the opposite side of the building. "After that, we'll do a quick recce upstairs, then it's a wrap," he said. "And we're outta here!"
    "Cool," Chester replied.

    * * * * *

    The Second Officer had pulled up a stool and was sitting beside Mrs. Burrows. Not knowing what else to do -- and knowing there was nothing he could do -- he'd put his hands together and begun to pray. The Book of Catastrophes, dealing mostly with vengeance and