Free The Eden Prophecy by Graham Brown Page B

but …”
    Hawker’s voice trailed off. The Isuzu truck had returned. It pulled up in front of the town house and stopped.
    When was he going to learn to keep his mouth shut?
    “Hold on a second,” he said. “You might have company.”
    “From where?”
    “Front door,” Hawker said.
    “How many?”
    The Isuzu had parked directly in front of the town house, blocking Hawker’s view of the entrance. Three men jumped out, dressed like movers. One guy milled around near the back of the van and the other two moved toward the front and the entrance to the town home.
    “Two at least,” he said. “A third out here.”
    “I need to know if they’re coming in,” she said.
    Hawker could hear the frustration in Danielle’s voice. He knew she would wait until the last second, maybe even push it too far. That was her way. He thought of telling her the men were headed in now, just to get her moving.
    “They seem to be bumbling around,” he said. “But you might want to look for a back way out.”
    “I need more time,” she said.
    “It’s not exactly up to me.”
    Hawker stared at the truck, trying to think of some way to distract the men at the front door, when a shadow caught the corner of his eye. It crossed from behind.
    He ducked instinctively just as the side window shattered and the
pop, pop
of a suppressor-equipped handgun sounded.
    No time to look back; he scrambled across the car as a third shot was fired. A long finger of padding exploded from one of the seats, marking the bullet’s track to his left.
    He grabbed the door handle, pushed the passenger’s door open, and tumbled out onto the sidewalk. Pulling his gun as he hit the cement, he twisted and fired blindly back into the car and all around it.
    Inside the townhome, Danielle heard the shots. She knew the sound of Hawker’s .45.
    She needed to go, but she felt the answer was close. She flipped through the pages of the notebook, skipping toward the end until she found a page that was only half-full. The last entry was dated one month prior.
    She rang her finger down the list.
        Series 947—results inconclusive, subject terminated.
        Series 948—results inconclusive, subject terminated.
        Series 949—results determinable, vitality affected, subject did not survive.
    Another gunshot rang out. Danielle glanced that way and then back at the notes.
    Series 950—results inconclusive, subject terminated.
    Series 951—outcome unequivocal, subject telomeres shortened, activity level unaffected, life span reduced by 51%.
    That was the last entry.
    Danielle stared at the words as if in a trance.
Telomeres shortened … life span reduced
.
    Telomeres were molecular chains at the end of the DNA strand. They were known to be connected withcellular reproduction, cellular life span, and even human life span.
    What the hell were these people messing around with?
    Another shot boomed outside the door and Danielle knew she’d run out of time.
    She ripped the page from the notebook and turned toward the back of the home. Then, realizing the flash drive was still attached to the computer, she ran to it.
    A loud crashing noise told her the front door had been breached. She yanked the drive free, turned, and raced to the back of the house.
    Hawker lay pressed against the ground, near the rear wheel of the vehicle. The gunman who’d missed him was on the other side of the car, crouched down near the front of the vehicle, no more than ten feet away.
    Hawker stared under the car, watching for the man’s feet. Then he raised his gun and fired through the car. Two shots, glass shattering everywhere, but the bastard didn’t flinch.
    The problems as Hawker saw them were threefold. First, he was outnumbered and sooner or later they would come at him from two directions. Second, Danielle was stuck in the building, unless she’d busted out the back as he hoped. Third, the man trying to kill him was up front, protected by the engine block, while Hawker