r. Marcus Karsten went cold.

Standing just inside the door to his secret laboratory—the entry upon which he’d misplaced so much faith—he could see that his fears had been realized.

Subject A was gone.!!!Impossible!

One hour earlier, Karsten had been at home reviewing papers. The phone rang. Annoyed at the interruption, he’d answered.

Carl from the institute. Someone had broken into Lab Six. The esteemed professor had dropped the receiver and raced to his car, panicked.

Karsten sped to the marina, running red lights. Wrangling a boat, he’d ordered the captain to take the short way to Loggerhead Island, tide notwithstanding. Paid double. Speed was everything.

Karsten had talked down his nerves during the rain-soaked crossing. No one knew about the upstairs lab, he told himself. His secret was safe.

The guards couldn’t even open the electronic lock he’d special-ordered. No one else had the combination. Once he determined what had triggered the alarm, he’d slip off to double-check the hidden room.

Slowly, Karsten’s fear turned to anger. Some lazy tech must’ve needed supplies and didn’t want to fill out the paperwork. Typical. Whoever tripped that alarm would get both barrels.

Upon landing, Karsten hurried directly from the dock to Lab Six. The downpour did little to improve his mood.

Carl waited outside on the steps. Now sporting a massive black raincoat, he resembled an enormous bowling ball on legs. A nervous one.

Karsten scowled upon seeing the guard. This buffoon is the best we can do for security?

“Out with it,” Karsten demanded. “Was there a break-in? Was anything taken?”

“Uh... we, uh... I mean, I don’t know.”

Despite his bulk, Carl stood barely five feet tall. Karsten towered above him, glowering.

“Doctor. Sir.” Carl added, just to be safe.

“Check. The. Video. Tape.” Slowly. Karsten had no time for fools, and considered Carl one short step above.

“That’s just it, sir.” Carl wished he were anywhere else on the planet. “We can’t. The recorder broke last week, and the replacement is still on backorder.”

Karsten closed his eyes, willing self-control. He vaguely remembered a memo to that effect. “Did you examine the locks?”

“Oh yes, sir!” Safer ground. “The gates were closed and locked. And both of the building’s outer doors remained secure.”

Carl scratched his head, stumped. “I even went inside. Nothing missing, nobody there.” A pause. “Of course, I couldn’t sweep the back part, upstairs.”

“Not your concern!” Karsten spoke more sharply than he’d intended. “That area is safe, I assure you. No one can get in there.”

Carl blanched. “But sir, that’s the sector that was breached.”

Karsten froze. “What?”

“The alarm that activated,” Carl mumbled. He could tell Karsten was taking this news badly. “The signal came from the new electronic lock, upstairs.”

Karsten’s mind rifled the terrible possibilities. He’d assumed only the first floor had been violated. The building entrance wasn’t alarmed, but two inner doors were.

Think, he chided himself. Gates, locked. Doors, locked. No signs of forced entry. Yet something had tripped the most secure alarm in the complex.

“Who else is here?”

“No one,” Carl answered quickly. “I checked everywhere. Not a soul. Mr. Blue’s first shuttle won’t arrive for another hour.”

“The steel door was closed when you arrived, yes?”

“Yes, sir. Doctor.”

The alarm malfunctioned, Karsten told himself. Nothing else made sense.

“The storm must’ve tripped the sensor. Go finish your report. I’ll verify upstairs.”

Carl wavered. “I’m supposed to look myself, for the report, or—”

“Guard.” Karsten’s voice was granite. “You are dismissed. I will let you know if further services are required.”

That was enough for Carl.

Karsten watched the guard waddle off before entering the building.

The subject, he thought, racing up the stairs. The subject must be secure!

One look sent Karsten’s hopes crashing.

The wolfdog was gone.

Karsten struggled to process the magnitude of the calamity.

Professionals, he thought. Burglary specialists. No one else could have breached the gates, the doors, and the keypad lock. No one else could have evaded capture so seamlessly, left no trace of a crime.

Karsten had always suspected there were factions who wanted to steal his research. His findings could one day be worth millions, perhaps billions. But how had they discovered this lab?

Particles of an idea coalesced with a jarring shock. The intruders must have known the cameras were down!!!!Dear God! An inside job!!!!They’ve no idea what they’ve done.

Horror flooded Karsten’s mind. Subject A was infected with the experimental strain of parvovirus. Though he’d told no one, he had a terrible suspicion about XPB-19.

Karsten picked up the phone and dialed with trembling fingers.

“Dr. Marcus Karsten here. My business is urgent.”

Karsten listened to dead air as his call was transferred. A click. Two long beeps. A voice answered.

“Yes.”

Karsten forced his voice calm. “We have a problem.”

Minutes later the professor stood with gut clenched, receiver still clutched in his hand. Thinking one thought: I need a drink.

His instructions were clear.!!!Find the dog.!!!Or else.

And he’d held back the worst of it, even from him. Hell, especially from him. That news was far too dangerous to share. His sponsor was far too dangerous a man.

Karsten rummaged through his pockets, found a key ring, and unlocked a desk drawer. Yanking papers and scattering files, he finally located a document at the bottom of the stack.

Karsten recognized his own handwriting at the bottom. He examined the record again, wishing it read differently.

It didn’t. His words screamed from the page. Accusing.

“The highest caution must be employed. Due to its radical structure, Parvovirus strain XPB-19 may be infectious to humans.”