Intimate Danger. Amy J. Fetzer

now. A cluster of words popped out and she zeroed in. Ecuador–Peru border, recon for a downed UAV, and the four men matched the candidates in the other file. Bingo.

      She opened their service record files. Young, physically fit, and extremely well trained. A good portion was blacked out. Special Operations, black ops, she suspected, then sent the photos and stat sheets to the printer before she cleared traces, even the echoes. She was reaching for the sheets when the door locks clicked with access. It swung open and she grabbed the papers and stuffed them under the keyboard.

      Dr. Francine Yates entered first, followed by two soldiers. Clancy thought about ducking for cover, but nixed that. She had a right to be here, and cleared her throat. The click of pistols and “freeze” came before the lights blinked on. The soldiers relaxed, their expressions unapologetic.

      Francine looked over her and the lab. “I will never understand you and this need to work in the dark, Clancy.”

      “It buffers out distractions and I think better. Why do you need armed guards, Francine?”

      “I didn’t know you were here.”

      “Clearly. I was just running another sample.” She gestured to the screen. “I wanted to sleep in tomorrow. Blood is drawn.”

      Francine mulled that over for a second. “Any changes?”

      “It’s working, if that’s what you mean.” Her gaze flicked to the soldiers.

      “Go ahead,” Yates said to the men, and the pair moved to the large orangutan cage.

      “Whoa, wait a second. Where are you going with Boris?” Clancy snapped off her latex gloves, but stayed where she was. If she didn’t get the computer to reboot, then any geek with some skills could find out what she’d done—and learned.

      The men didn’t respond, and rolled the cage toward the door.

      “You really should stop naming the test animals, Clancy, and he’s going to surgery.”

      Her eyes went wide and her gaze darted to the cage and the sleeping giant inside. “But there’s nothing wrong with him.”

      “We need to see the progress on his brain while his heart is still beating.” She said it as if there were no questioning her decision.

      Okay, that was logical, the icky part Clancy didn’t want to consider, but why right now? “But we haven’t finished the stress and hydration test on him yet. You open up his skull and, provided he lives, you have weeks of recovery.” This made no sense.

      “Perhaps, but there are other apes and I have orders.”

      Ah, so that was it. “Colonel Cook ordered this?” Cook was a stickler for regulations, to have all his ducks in a neat row, and though he was pressuring her to change her views on the timelines, he respected her cautions. She reached for the phone.

      “Clancy, don’t.” Francine took a step nearer. “He’s not happy. Let him cool off.”

      Francine’s tone warned that if she pushed she could be out of a job, and Clancy heeded it. If you don’t play with the team, they’ll trade you. Or kick you out. Clancy couldn’t afford not to be here right now. Not with what she knew now. She was the only one thinking clearly apparently. But she wasn’t a doctor with a list of PhDs, and therefore she was expendable. Although Clancy created the microtechnology, she didn’t own it. The military research and development did, and that meant the U.S. government held the schematics and the patents. To get this job she’d signed a “fork it over and keep your mouth shut at all times” statement. Fine for her, she had no one to blab to anyway.

      Yet she had a feeling that being on the cutting edge of science was about to get her hacked to pieces.

      “The colonel made it clear that we can’t have anyone on this project who’ll refuse orders.”

      Clancy gave her a look that always got her in trouble as a kid. “You know, Francine, I’ve served once too, but military personnel also have the right to refuse orders when it’s detrimental to life. We need further testing and no, don’t give me that Major Yates look, this isn’t about obeying blindly. Rushing will have setbacks and you know it.”

      She let out a long breath, knowing she was preaching to the wrong crowd. They couldn’t turn back after taking the plunge with human trials.

      “What pushed the schedule up to this?” She gestured to the cloaked cage housing Boris as the men pushed it around the equipment. The pod was stable, but the insertion was only a few weeks old.

      “Look, Clancy, I agree with you, it needs further testing, and that’s where Boris comes in. If you’d just go with the flow…”

      Clancy blinked, then scowled. Go along when human lives were at stake?

      “Fine. Stick to your high moral grounds,” Francine said tightly. “But understand that I have a career I love and I got this far because I’m willing to play their games.” She touched her shoulder. “I’m sorry you can’t.”

      This wouldn’t sting so much if Clancy didn’t respect and admire Francine. Aside from being a tall, leggy brunette, Francine Yates was a genius, a doctor, a U.S. Army major, and head of a billion-dollar project. What’s not to admire about that? Just staying afloat in a generally man’s world was tough enough. Francine excelled. For both of them, it was all about the strides they were making to help troops in the field. But going ahead without monitoring Boris thoroughly first was insane and could bring the whole project down—and kill four decorated Marines.

      Clancy felt her stand against this strengthen, and she reminded herself that they’d done this without her, yet put her name on all the reports. Forging her signature wouldn’t be difficult. If she tipped her hand now, she’d be fired. Then the Marines would have no one watching their back.

      In stocking feet, she took a step away from the desk, her gaze locked on Francine as she said, “The review board doesn’t know this like we do, Francine. You’re letting outsiders make decisions and I want to go on record that I’m opposed.”

      Francine nodded. “Duly noted.”

      The orangutan stirred in the cage, sitting up, and looking between Clancy and Francine. Seeing Francine, the animal immediately rose and reached a clawlike paw for her, letting out a high-pitched scream and hopping wildly inside the cage. Francine jumped back and quickly ordered the men to remove it.

      Clancy went back to the desk and grabbed her shoes from underneath. As she put one on, she pretended to drop it, then hit the OFF/ON button on the computer. From her position the screen blinked and started a reboot.

      “I can’t understand why he does that to me all the time.”

      “Change your perfume and see what happens.”

      Francine’s brows shot up. “Maybe he just likes redheads.”

      Dark auburn, she wanted to correct, but let it go. “Now what? No test subjects? The others aren’t up to his timeline yet, nor his level. If he doesn’t survive, then you just canned a month’s worth of this project.” Clancy slipped the service record book pages from under the keyboard and carefully folded them. “Your tax dollars at work, I guess.”

      “Natasha was implanted at the same time, too,” she reminded her.

      Discreetly, Clancy stuffed the papers in her shoes. “And a female orangutan is supposed to tell us about the effect on human males?” Testosterone levels alone changed the data. This was a smokescreen and not a very good one.

      “It’s the progress of the pod first, then the remaining stress tests with the other candidates.”

      She wasn’t telling Clancy something she didn’t know. “Better keep a good supply of apes on standby. You’ll be running out.”

      As almost an afterthought, she opened her desk drawer and grabbed the deactivation device, the Terminator, and slipped it into her purse. She stood, removed her