field, but her fear for him was plain to read. He glanced down at his prosthetic hand. It wasn’t a baseless fear.
Still, he loved his job and knew how important it was.
For the past year, while recuperating from his injuries—both mental and physical—he had grown to recognize this more fully. While he loved his family and acknowledged his responsibilities here, he also knew how vital Sigma was to keeping the world safe. He hated being sidelined.
“I heard you have another assignment today,” Kat said.
“Just more paper-pushing,” he groused. “I’m off to New Jersey to interview an egghead about some research files at Princeton. I’ll be back by midnight.”
Kat glanced down at her watch. “Then shouldn’t you be getting ready?”
“I have time. Director Crowe is sending another agent to tag along. Someone with a background in genetics. A new recruit.”
“John Creed.”
Monk shifted and stared her in the face. “Is there anything you don’t know?”
She smiled, leaned over, and kissed him. “I know that Penelope’s bottle is getting cold.”
Monk’s prosthetic hand tightened on her shoulder, keeping her from getting up. “And I know her bottle can be warmed up again.” His voice grew huskier. “And I still have another half hour.”
“A whole half hour?” She arched an eyebrow. “You are growing ambitious.”
Monk’s face broke into a cockeyed grin. “Don’t mock me, woman.”
She kissed him again, lingering now, and whispered between his lips. “Never.”
4:44 P.M.
Princeton, New Jersey
Alone in the basement laboratory, Dr. Henry Malloy ran the computer simulation for the third time. As he waited, he shook his head. It made no sense. He sat back and stretched. He’d been compiling the data sent from Senator Gorman’s office for the past twenty-four hours. Due to the volume of raw data, he needed the lab’s Affymetrix array station to analyze all the DNA studies and assays in the files.
A knock on the door drew his attention. The lab was kept locked to help protect its ozone-free status. The facility was only accessible with a proximity keycard.
With a few minutes still to go on the assay, he crossed to the door and opened it with a whispered hush of pressurized air. It was one of his doctoral students, Andrea Solderitch. Henry had hired the woman as his aide. She was attractive, with a shapely figure and auburn hair, but she was no twenty-something coed. She was in her midfifties, changing careers, formerly aregistered nurse specializing in dialysis. And with the long hours spent together, he appreciated someone who occupied his same generation. They even liked the same music, which he often caught her humming under her breath.
At the moment, though, her expression was worried.
“What is it, Andrea?” he asked.
She lifted a sheaf of Post-it notes. “Senator Gorman’s office has called three times, wanting to check on your progress.”
Henry took the notes. He hated to have someone breathing down his neck, but he also understood the senator’s agitation. While Jason Gorman had only been Henry’s student, he still felt a stabbing pang of grief at the boy’s untimely death, especially with the brutality behind it.
“I also came down here to remind you that you have that appointment with Dr. Kokkalis from Washington in another hour. Did you want me to fetch you something from the cafeteria before then?”
“I’m fine, but since you’re here, I can use a fresh set of eyes on this data. Especially before I talk to Washington. See what you think.”
Her expression widened, barely masking her delight.
“And I appreciate you coming in on your day off,” he added as he led her toward the computer station. “I couldn’t have gotten this all done without your help.”
“No problem, Dr. Malloy.”
The computer modeling had finally finished its third run. The screen displayed the chromosomal mapping for the corn sample planted in the test field out in Africa.
Still, he loved his job and knew how important it was.
For the past year, while recuperating from his injuries—both mental and physical—he had grown to recognize this more fully. While he loved his family and acknowledged his responsibilities here, he also knew how vital Sigma was to keeping the world safe. He hated being sidelined.
“I heard you have another assignment today,” Kat said.
“Just more paper-pushing,” he groused. “I’m off to New Jersey to interview an egghead about some research files at Princeton. I’ll be back by midnight.”
Kat glanced down at her watch. “Then shouldn’t you be getting ready?”
“I have time. Director Crowe is sending another agent to tag along. Someone with a background in genetics. A new recruit.”
“John Creed.”
Monk shifted and stared her in the face. “Is there anything you don’t know?”
She smiled, leaned over, and kissed him. “I know that Penelope’s bottle is getting cold.”
Monk’s prosthetic hand tightened on her shoulder, keeping her from getting up. “And I know her bottle can be warmed up again.” His voice grew huskier. “And I still have another half hour.”
“A whole half hour?” She arched an eyebrow. “You are growing ambitious.”
Monk’s face broke into a cockeyed grin. “Don’t mock me, woman.”
She kissed him again, lingering now, and whispered between his lips. “Never.”
4:44 P.M.
Princeton, New Jersey
Alone in the basement laboratory, Dr. Henry Malloy ran the computer simulation for the third time. As he waited, he shook his head. It made no sense. He sat back and stretched. He’d been compiling the data sent from Senator Gorman’s office for the past twenty-four hours. Due to the volume of raw data, he needed the lab’s Affymetrix array station to analyze all the DNA studies and assays in the files.
A knock on the door drew his attention. The lab was kept locked to help protect its ozone-free status. The facility was only accessible with a proximity keycard.
With a few minutes still to go on the assay, he crossed to the door and opened it with a whispered hush of pressurized air. It was one of his doctoral students, Andrea Solderitch. Henry had hired the woman as his aide. She was attractive, with a shapely figure and auburn hair, but she was no twenty-something coed. She was in her midfifties, changing careers, formerly aregistered nurse specializing in dialysis. And with the long hours spent together, he appreciated someone who occupied his same generation. They even liked the same music, which he often caught her humming under her breath.
At the moment, though, her expression was worried.
“What is it, Andrea?” he asked.
She lifted a sheaf of Post-it notes. “Senator Gorman’s office has called three times, wanting to check on your progress.”
Henry took the notes. He hated to have someone breathing down his neck, but he also understood the senator’s agitation. While Jason Gorman had only been Henry’s student, he still felt a stabbing pang of grief at the boy’s untimely death, especially with the brutality behind it.
“I also came down here to remind you that you have that appointment with Dr. Kokkalis from Washington in another hour. Did you want me to fetch you something from the cafeteria before then?”
“I’m fine, but since you’re here, I can use a fresh set of eyes on this data. Especially before I talk to Washington. See what you think.”
Her expression widened, barely masking her delight.
“And I appreciate you coming in on your day off,” he added as he led her toward the computer station. “I couldn’t have gotten this all done without your help.”
“No problem, Dr. Malloy.”
The computer modeling had finally finished its third run. The screen displayed the chromosomal mapping for the corn sample planted in the test field out in Africa.
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