She tried to be small and far away, thinking of the bayou and the sound of the frogs and alligators, the continual lapping of the water, anything to take her mind off the increasing pressure. She pictured it in her head, the island that had been her home with the myriad of flowers and bushes and trees scattered everywhere and the wildlife she spent a great deal of time watching from the roof of her house.
Slowly, she felt the pressure ease. Whatever was coming after her, hadn’t succeeded, but she felt sick and dizzy so she lay still waiting for her mind to clear before she proceeded. Was Roman Howard capable of such an attack? He hadn’t undergone the psychic experiment. Martin had. Martin had been taught such attacks.
Dahlia kept her head down, resting on her hands as she tried to piece it all together. She didn’t dare move until she was controlling the motion sensors, and adrenaline was still racing through her body. Everyone who had undergone the experiment had some psychic ability prior to allowing Whitney to enhance what was already there.
Dahlia, you’re scaring the hell out of me. Did he hurt you? Just his voice calmed her. She felt the air move through her lungs and her nerves steadied.
Did you feel that? she asked.
All of us did.
Can he hear you? Can he feel the surge around him when we communicate like this? She didn’t want another attack until she was out of the narrow confines of the tube.
No, I’ve worked at sending only to one person. Martin Howard is concealed just outside the building entrance. It looks as if he followed his brother here and is waiting for him.
Was it Martin who attacked me?
It was impossible to tell who generated the attack or if it was specifically meant for one person. Our best guess is, whoever initiated the attack did so because he feels our presence and is uneasy. He was trying to draw us out.
Dahlia frowned. It made sense, but if he knew she was in the building and was hunting her, it made it all the more dangerous, especially if he were feeling strong emotions and he got close to her.
Are you going to abort?
Nicolas kept his voice neutral this time, and she was grateful to him. She had to think it through before she made a mistake. She took another breath, let it out slowly. I’m so close, if I leave now, I’ll have to do this again. I’m going to see if I can get in and out without trouble before I turn away on this one.
She felt more than heard the echo of Nicolas’s disappointment, the sheer frustration of not being able to command her the way he could his men. Was she being stubborn? It was one of her worst traits, but she didn’t think so. It wasn’t stubbornness, it was fear. She didn’t want to be responsible for the research falling into the wrong hands and she never wanted to come back to the Lombard building.
When this is over, I want to see where you live, Nicolas.
I promise, Dahlia. Just don’t let anything happen to you.
She took another breath and concentrated on the sensors. When she was certain she controlled them, she scooted forward until she was against the screen in the tunnel leading to the vault room. There were six access tunnels, all with the same camera setup and heavy doors. The security was tight, requiring retinal scans and codes. And that was after coming off the secure elevator that required the proper set of keys and a different access code.
She pulled her tool kit out of the sealed flap of her cargo pants and made short work of the screws on the vent screen. She had to control the cameras next, keeping them from seeing her as she slid from the tube and landed in a crouch on the floor. Cameras were easy to manage, but also easy to forget. If she let her mind drift, even when she was concentrating on other, more difficult tasks, she would be in trouble.
Dahlia stayed close to the wall and blurred her image just in case she slipped up. The most important thing was the access code. She knew it was changed on a daily basis. This was her favorite thing to do, cracking the access code and opening the vault. Her mind was already humming, feeling how to move the tumblers into place. Even though the vault had an electronic access code keypad, she didn’t need to type in the numbers to figure out the right ones. In fact, she didn’t dare attempt it since entering more than a couple of tries triggered the alarm. Dahlia simply bypassed the electronic part altogether, and worked directly with the mechanical spring-loaded tumblers.
She stayed very close to the wall, at the best angle to avoid the panning camera, just in case during this phase she forgot in her excitement. The retinal scan was easy enough to bypass, but the code was all-important, and it was her mind against the machine’s.
She sat with her back against the wall as she began the hunt for the correct tumbler positions. It was bound to take a little time and with Roman Howard wandering around, she wanted to be in and out as quickly as possible. She had half the positions when the second attack came. A sharp thrust to her brain, piercing jabs scattering through her mind, jarring her out of her concentration. She clapped both hands over her head, pressing hard to relieve the terrible viselike grip. Her stomach lurched.
Dahlia held her mind’s grip on the camera. She had to let go of the vault, but the camera was more important to control. She could always start over if she dropped the tumbler positions. The attack was hard and deadly, but because the sender didn’t know whom he was attacking, it was unfocused. She received the brunt of it only because she was closer than the GhostWalkers, but they must have felt it as well.
Breathe deeply until it passes. Nicolas sounded gentle, calm. Normal for him. Just his voice seemed to help ease the pain. We can’t retaliate or he’ll know for certain someone is here. Right now he’s probing. He isn’t sure.
She wanted to answer him, reassure him she was all right, but the pressure in her head combined with controlling the camera was enough work. She hunkered down and went into meditative breathing, waiting for the assault to pass.
It lessened gradually, the pressure easing until she could think again. Immediately she focused on the vault. Roman Howard had absolutely no idea she was in the building, and he certainly didn’t know she was opening the vault. He was psychic enough to be uneasy, but he couldn’t find an enemy. Still, she needed to get out fast. If his uneasiness continued, he would check the vault.
She worked faster, staying alert as the tumblers dropped into place. She repressed the urge to laugh when she found the last, satisfying position and they lined up perfectly for her. Dahlia worked out the numbers that corresponded to those tumbler positions, and entered them into the digital keypad. Now she could feel the tumblers staying in place without her having to hold them there. She turned her attention to the retinal scan, finding the image of the last scan in the memory of the computer and repeating it. There was a moment of silence. Of expectation. The heavy vault door swung open.