The Bone Labyrinth by James Rollins Page A

right hand. She and her husband were also Gray’s best friends.
    “What about Seichan?” Gray asked.
    “Kat assumed she would be coming, too.”
    Movement drew Gray’s attention to the bathroom door. Seichan leaned against the doorframe, wrapped only in a wet towel that hid very little.
    “Where are we going?” she asked, plainly guessing the general gist of the conversation.
    Gray smiled at her powers of perception, a skill surely honed from her years as an assassin for hire. Even now, there remained layers of mystery to her. Still, while several countries maintained a bounty on her for past crimes, there was no one he wanted more by his side.
    And not just for her talents with a gun.
    He took in the sight of her body, the sultry mocha of her bare skin. Even motionless, her limbs exuded equal parts grace and power.
    “Looks like our vacation will have to be cut short,” he warned.
    She shrugged, letting the towel fall from her torso. “I was getting tired of Paris anyway.”
    She turned, baring the full curve of her backside.
    That’s one view I’ll never get tired of.
    Painter interrupted. “As a precaution, I’ll also be extending the investigation stateside.”
    Gray drew his attention back to the phone. “What do you mean?”
    “Dr. Crandall’s project is based out of Emory University. I’m dispatching a team to Atlanta to interview the project’s co-researcher, Dr. Crandall’s sister.”
    “Her sister?”
    “Her twin, actually. Dr. Maria Crandall. Seems the project is a family affair.”
    “What were the two working on?”
    “Much of it’s classified. Even Metcalf didn’t know all the specifics at this early stage. All I know is that the project involved the search for the origin of human intelligence.”
    The origin of human intelligence?
    Intrigued, Gray wanted to know more, but he suspected Painter was holding back until he could get a full accounting of that project. “Who are you sending to Atlanta?”
    “That’s the thing . . . I need someone who’s fluent in American Sign Language.”
    Gray frowned. He didn’t understand why such a skill was necessary, but surely if this was an investigation into human intelligence, Painter would send Sigma’s best and brightest.
    “So who’s going?” Gray asked again.
    Painter only sighed.
    7:55 a.m. EDT
    “ I thought she was pregnant,” Joe Kowalski said, picturing the furious expression on the new security guard who manned the desk upstairs. Sullenly, he exited the elevator into the heart of Sigma command with Monk Kokkalis at his side.
    “Still, you never ask a woman when she’s due,” Monk said. “Never. Not even if you’re sure she’s carrying triplets.”
    Kowalski scowled. “It’s the damned uniform, that big black belt. I swore she was almost due.”
    “You’re lucky she didn’t shoot you.”
    Maybe she should have . . .
    He stared at the ceiling of the hallway as he strode alongside Monk. Sigma Command was buried beneath the Smithsonian Castle, occupying a warren of World War II–era bomb shelters. Moments ago, returning from a morning jog along the National Mall, he had tried to be a good neighbor, to show some interest in the new addition to the staff above. Of course, it hadn’t hurt that the woman was cute with full lips.
    “Talk about burning a bridge,” Monk scolded.
    Kowalski growled his irritation. He didn’t need to be reminded about his sorry track record with women of late. “Drop it already.”
    Monk shrugged and ran a palm over his bald scalp, possibly sensing he had taken the joke one step too far. He stood a head shorter than Kowalski and would certainly win no beauty contests. Then again, Kowalski knew his own charms were few and far between. More than one woman had compared him to a shaved ape—and they were probably being generous.
    Ahead, a slender form, dressed in crisp navy blues, appeared from the doorway that led into Sigma’s communication nest. “There you two are,” Kat said, drawing