wind. This time he didn’t resist as the men lifted him outside. Although he could only see darkness behind the mask, he felt the sun beat down on his blazer. The moment he realized the source of the rhythmic thumping, he instinctively ducked his head to avoid the rotors of the helicopter. He’d been on call at the hospital when the Life Flight chopper brought critically injured patients to the landing pad on the roof. He tried to swallow but found that his mouth had gone dry.
The men shoved him forward. His thighs hit metal, sending a jolt of pain from his injured knee through his body. Hands seized him under his shoulders and lifted him. His leg protested when he collapsed onto a ribbed metal surface.
Shock replaced the fear of a moment ago. He felt detached from the events, as if he were in the middle of a surrealistic dream. Just a few minutes earlier, he’d been standing in the airport with his daughter as they waited to leave for home.
The bass thumping of the rotors increased in frequency. His stomach lurched as the floor moved upward and forward at the same time. The helicopter was lifting off, taking him somewhere. Somewhere away from his home. Somewhere away from Amira.
CHAPTER 9
CAPLAB , YALE UNIVERSITY
----
“M ay I help you?” a female voice crackled over the intercom in the basement hallway.
“Dr. Ethan Lightman. I’m here for CapLab.”
Although he visited Yale-New Haven Hospital weekly, he’d never paid attention to the three-story building down the block whose small windows and ribbed concrete exterior gave away its 1960s heritage.
“Be right there, Professor,” the voice replied.
The only marking on the door before him was the suite number: 108. No signage revealed its true purpose: CapLab, Yale’s capuchin monkey research laboratory. Because of animal rights protests at other primate labs around the country, Yale kept the location of its research facilities secret.
After his lecture that morning, he’d found Christian Sligh in their office. His graduate assistant had given him the tightly guarded directions to CapLab and then left to make sure that the experiment would be ready when Ethan arrived. Chris had taken the Logos with him.
Ethan heard the lock click on the other side of the door. When it opened, a familiar face greeted him.
“Hi, Professor.” The young woman stuck out a petite hand with manicured nails but no polish, just as she wore no makeup. “I’m Rachel Riley.”
The student from the front row of his lecture class stood before him. Her chestnut hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, her wide blue eyes staring athim with the same intensity as during his lectures. Her handshake was stronger than her delicate fingers would have suggested.
“You’re one of my students.”
He towered over her— can’t be more than five-two , he thought—but she carried herself with an energy that seemed befitting someone of much larger stature. She held his gaze.
“Grad student—first year.” She spun around, started down the hallway, and stopped at an unmarked door at the end. “Evolutionary Biology.”
Even though his legs were considerably longer than hers, he had to hurry to catch up. “So what are you doing in my undergrad course?”
“Thought Psych for Psychos might give me some perspective on my research here.” She flashed a smile that lit up her face. “And, I heard you were a decent teacher.”
He felt his neck flush, but before he could look away, she turned to the wall and punched a code on a keypad. When the electronic lock beeped, she opened the door and motioned for him to enter. His first impression upon stepping into the room was that it looked more like a dorm than a lab. Jackets and book bags were piled on top of a couch that looked as if it had been purchased at a thrift store. Starbucks cups crowded the surface of a wood-laminate coffee table.
“What’s up, Prof?” Chris waved to him from his seat at the desk against the wall to the
The men shoved him forward. His thighs hit metal, sending a jolt of pain from his injured knee through his body. Hands seized him under his shoulders and lifted him. His leg protested when he collapsed onto a ribbed metal surface.
Shock replaced the fear of a moment ago. He felt detached from the events, as if he were in the middle of a surrealistic dream. Just a few minutes earlier, he’d been standing in the airport with his daughter as they waited to leave for home.
The bass thumping of the rotors increased in frequency. His stomach lurched as the floor moved upward and forward at the same time. The helicopter was lifting off, taking him somewhere. Somewhere away from his home. Somewhere away from Amira.
CHAPTER 9
CAPLAB , YALE UNIVERSITY
----
“M ay I help you?” a female voice crackled over the intercom in the basement hallway.
“Dr. Ethan Lightman. I’m here for CapLab.”
Although he visited Yale-New Haven Hospital weekly, he’d never paid attention to the three-story building down the block whose small windows and ribbed concrete exterior gave away its 1960s heritage.
“Be right there, Professor,” the voice replied.
The only marking on the door before him was the suite number: 108. No signage revealed its true purpose: CapLab, Yale’s capuchin monkey research laboratory. Because of animal rights protests at other primate labs around the country, Yale kept the location of its research facilities secret.
After his lecture that morning, he’d found Christian Sligh in their office. His graduate assistant had given him the tightly guarded directions to CapLab and then left to make sure that the experiment would be ready when Ethan arrived. Chris had taken the Logos with him.
Ethan heard the lock click on the other side of the door. When it opened, a familiar face greeted him.
“Hi, Professor.” The young woman stuck out a petite hand with manicured nails but no polish, just as she wore no makeup. “I’m Rachel Riley.”
The student from the front row of his lecture class stood before him. Her chestnut hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, her wide blue eyes staring athim with the same intensity as during his lectures. Her handshake was stronger than her delicate fingers would have suggested.
“You’re one of my students.”
He towered over her— can’t be more than five-two , he thought—but she carried herself with an energy that seemed befitting someone of much larger stature. She held his gaze.
“Grad student—first year.” She spun around, started down the hallway, and stopped at an unmarked door at the end. “Evolutionary Biology.”
Even though his legs were considerably longer than hers, he had to hurry to catch up. “So what are you doing in my undergrad course?”
“Thought Psych for Psychos might give me some perspective on my research here.” She flashed a smile that lit up her face. “And, I heard you were a decent teacher.”
He felt his neck flush, but before he could look away, she turned to the wall and punched a code on a keypad. When the electronic lock beeped, she opened the door and motioned for him to enter. His first impression upon stepping into the room was that it looked more like a dorm than a lab. Jackets and book bags were piled on top of a couch that looked as if it had been purchased at a thrift store. Starbucks cups crowded the surface of a wood-laminate coffee table.
“What’s up, Prof?” Chris waved to him from his seat at the desk against the wall to the
Similar Books
