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seemed to have disappeared for the moment.  But Tom knew that only meant they were up to something.

Tom had already resolved to destroy the station.  It simply couldn't be left in their hands.

That required a few logistics to work out – the most viable option would be flammable gas and fire.  Setting it up, however, could prove problematic.  He had no idea how many of the little lizards were actually on-board, waiting in some hidden compartment to spring out and slash his throat.

There was also the fact that the escape pods were docked off the Russian cargo-module, right in the direction the escaping Ottos had disappeared.

If push came to shove, he would tank ISS, and go down with the ship, but he would at least try to get to the pods.

But he couldn't go anywhere yet.  For the moment, he still had to coordinate with Rhodes.

The situation on the ground, however, just kept getting worse.

It was actually the sheer boldness of it that kept Tom from seeing it straight out.

Otto had several screens running simulations – all global models.

The big bloom Tom had spotted sprouting earlier had been on the central screen – a localized view covering maybe a hundred square miles – the risk to the Mount was based on a helpful projected model Otto had running right next to it.

It wasn't until he pulled back the view that he realized that the model next to it, running simultaneously, wasn't actually a model at all.

Tom zoomed back the view of the first screen and realized they were both live.

Things weren't worse, he realized.

They were a LOT worse.

Rhodes wasn't going to like this.

Tom tapped the comm, but before he could bring up the General's line, there was a squawk over the speakers.

When he looked up, the toothy lizard faces were back in front of the security screen, gibbering like monkeys for the cameras.

A moment later, the lights in the ISS went out.

Chapter 44

Rhodes had his men crawling down the ventilation pipes as far as they could, finding a long trail of rat-like scraps and feces.

They also found the gnawed bones of Nurse Rose.

Sally wondered if that had come up during Michelle's little interview concerning the nurse's disappearance.

As the Coven was escorted out, Christine made a move at Rhodes with a palmed steak knife.  Michelle stepped forward, catching the thrust, and swung her hips into one of her snappy spin-kicks – made famous at Susie's Bar – catching Christine full in the face, knocking her cold.  Ginger and Luna caught her as she fell, both of them glaring at Michelle, who responded with a complete snub.

Sally wasn't sure who she should hate more.  Nurse Rose had been her friend.

Michelle was led away with the rest – although, presumably not to detention – while Rhodes oversaw the ransack of the entire hall.

Then the radio on his hip beeped.

“General?” Dr. Shriver's voice said.  “Something's come up.  I need to talk to you right away.”

Rhodes glanced at Sally.  There was urgency in the doctor's normally deadpan tone.

“Meet me up top in my office,” Rhodes said.  He nodded to his men.  “I want the entire complex swept.  Warehouse, barracks, everything.  You find anything, you let me know.”

Sally hurried to follow as Rhodes turned for the door.

The General was in his fifties, and solidly over two-hundred pounds, but Sally found herself struggling to keep up as he took the stairs to the upper floors – perhaps impatient for the elevator, or possibly just energy to burn.

When they stepped into his office, they found three of the little lizards standing on his desk.

Along the wall, the safe was open and the documents inside – targeting codes for nuclear launch – were spread out on Rhodes' desk and shredded into confetti.

The Ottos hissed.

“Son of a bitch!” Rhodes blurted, and in a flash, his sidearm was up and firing.

Two of the scaly little vermin were blown off the desktop, as the third made for the open grating in the wall.

Letting out a deceptively calm breath, Rhodes cracked off one more shot, sending the little rat spinning into the corner.

Sally blinked – it was over before she even reached to turn on the lights.

Rhodes bent over his desk, looking at the torn documents, rubbing one hand on his temple.

“Well,” he said, “let's see how bad they've screwed us.”

“Oh.  Pretty bad, I'm afraid,” a voice said from behind them.

They turned to find Dr. Shriver standing at the elevator.

“The situation might be worse than we thought.”

“I already thought it was pretty bad,” Rhodes said.  He turned to Shriver in his combat pose, like a fighter waiting to see what his opponent might throw.

Sally had always been a little scared of Shriver, but now the doctor actually seemed nervous.

“Well, sir,” he said reluctantly, “it looks like we're missing a few bottles of the Food of the Gods.”

Rhodes blinked once.  “Come again?”

Shriver shifted uncomfortably.

“Um.  It seems several containers have been replaced with... well, it looks like shampoo.  Prell, I think.  It matches the emerald green and the inherent glow is not obviously absent when placed among other bottles.”

Rhodes looked at him mildly.

“Let me get this straight.  You're actually telling me several containers – in your care – that should be loaded with the most destructive chemical ever known, are instead filled with Prell?”

“Or possibly a designer brand,” Shriver said, nodding.

Sally saw one of Rhodes' hands drift to the still-smoking pistol at his belt.

The General took a deep breath.

“Wow,” he said.  “I almost just shot you over that one.”

His hand, however, did not move from his waist.  And when he spoke, his calm voice was deadly matter-of-fact.

“We can still get there.”  Rhodes eyed the doctor seriously.  “You better start being real valuable real soon.  What exactly is the potential damage?”

Shriver cleared his voice.

“The amount that's missing,” he said, “released over a widespread area, even in small doses, could infect an entire region.”

Dr. Shriver noted the dead twitching lizards on the floor, and then the torn documents on the desk.

“What happened here?”

“Those,” Rhodes said,

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