TOS - The Eugenics Wars 1 (b) by Star Trek

Author:Star Trek [Star Trek]
Language: deu
Format: epub
Tags: \Star Trek
Published: 2011-01-02T07:59:15.959000+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

ONLY A FEW STRAY WISPS of luminous blue mist still floated over the tranquilized goons as Seven exited the animal storeroom for what he expected would be for good. First, though, he disconnected the videophone above the fallen guards, just in case they roused themselves prematurely. He considered fusing the door shut behind him, then realized that he could hardly lock anyone up inside a structure that he intended to condemn to thermonuclear destruction. Even the subhuman Cuban operative, whom both Isis and Roberta appeared to dislike so, deserved a chance to evacuate the premises with the rest of the project’s personnel.

Seven warily scanned the corridor outside the storeroom. In theory, Roberta and Isis were already back in Manhattan by now, fulfilling their end of the operation. I’m on my own now, he acknowledged resolutely. This was just as well; the obliteration of Chrysalis was too important to trust to any less-experienced agent, no matter how resourceful or enterprising she might be. What’s that Terran expression again? If you want a job done right. ...

Isis’s borrowed lab coat was a few sizes too small for him, but it would have to make do; ill-fitting camouflage was better than none at all. He rubbed his stubbly chin once more, hoping that his unshaven appearance would not attract unwelcome attention. Holding on tightly to his servo, concealed within a pocket of the overly snug white jacket, he marched rapidly down the sterile tunnel, looking for the nearest stairwell. According to Roberta, the nuclear reactor occupied [209] the lowest sublevel of the complex, and he preferred taking the stairs over an elevator, the latter being far too reminiscent of a cell for his liking. I’m not about to get trapped inside an enclosed space, he resolved, not if I can help it.

His decision proved a wise one; Seven was less than fifty yards away from the storeroom when an alarm blared loudly overhead: “ATTENTION! INTRUDER ALERT! BE ON THE LOOKOUT FOR THREE UNAUTHORIZED VISITORS: A DARK-HAIRED FEMALE, A BLOND AMERICAN WOMAN, AND A TALL, BROWN-HAIRED, AMERICAN MALE. THE INTRUDERS ARE ARMED AND EXTREMELY DANGEROUS. REPORT ALL SIGHTINGS TO SECURITY IMMEDIATELY. REPEAT: REPORT ANY SUSPICIOUS INDIVIDUALS AT ONCE. THIS IS A MATTER OF THE GRAVEST IMPORTANCE.”

Seven frowned, but wasted little mental or physical energy lamenting this unfortunate turn of events. We’ve been lucky so far, he realized, but exposure was inevitable. Either someone had discovered the sleeping bodies in the storeroom, he speculated, or else Kaur and her bodyguards had finally recovered from Isis’s ambush. Most likely the latter, he guessed. In any event, his task had just become significantly more challenging.

He quickened his pace as the alert repeated itself in several languages, its essential message remaining the same. Seven drew some amusement from the fact that two of the described intruders—Isis and Roberta—were already well beyond Kaur’s grasp. With any luck, the project’s security force would squander a portion of their efforts searching fruitlessly for the two female operatives. Not to mention a missing black cat.

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