Road Less Traveled

Table of Contents

 

 

Carter backed up, but paused at the top of the steps to look at the monitor again. The image really was very cool, despite it not being what she'd wanted. He could watch all of downtown from there, see everybody—there went Taggart, in fact, and two of the Bakers, and he recognized David Boyd. And he could make out the edge of his office from this vantage point, and if he looked down along the street, he could see—

Huh.

That was odd.

He blinked and looked again.

Nope.

Carter frowned and studied the picture. Was he wrong about the angle, or the distance? No, he was sure of it—he covered that same ground at least twice a day, and often more like three or four times. And yet—

Café Diem wasn't there.

He had no idea what that meant.

But he had a feeling it was something big.

 

EUREKA: SUBSTITUTION METHOD
EUREKA: BRAIN BOX BLUES
EUREKA: ROAD LESS TRAVELED

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EUREKA: ROAD LESS TRAVELED

 

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Published by arrangement with NBC Universal Television Consumer Products Group

Sheriff Jack Carter almost fell out of his chair, and the whole thing tipped sideways. “What the hell is that?” He managed to get himself upright again and staggered to his feet, glancing around. There were warning lights flashing in every corner of the office, in concert with the blaring alarm.

“Burglar alarm!” Jo Lupo was already halfway to the door. “Come on!”

“We have a burglar alarm? Who'd be stupid enough to try breaking into the sheriff's office?” Carter followed her, as much to get away from the siren as to get answers to his questions. Why, even after all these years in Eureka, were there still things he didn't know about the town? And why did his deputy know most of them, and hadn't bothered to share?

“Not here,” she snapped over her shoulder, with that patented “You're an idiot, aren't you?” Lupo charm. “Worse.”

“Worse? Of course. Why wouldn't it be worse?” They stepped outside and Carter straightened, sighing in relief as the doors closed behind them and cut off most of the racket. “Okay, where—No, don't tell me. Let me guess.” There was only one place in Eureka important enough for someone to install the equivalent of a foghorn in the sheriff's office in case anyone triggered the alarm.

Jo nodded. “GD.”

“Great. Just perfect.” Carter yanked open the door to his Jeep. “Get in. I'm driving.” He had the Jeep in gear before she'd finished fastening her seat belt.

“Do we have any idea what tripped it?” he asked, as he floored it and raced toward Global Dynamics.

“Not a clue,” Jo admitted, tugging her long, dark hair back into her customary ponytail. “It isn't Section Five, though—that's got a different alarm.”

“Of course it does.” Still, the news was a relief. Section Five was Global Dynamics' ultra-high-security wing, which housed its most dangerous projects—and that was saying something, considering GD employed the town's best and brightest, and everyone in the town was a genius of one stripe or another.

Everyone except Carter.

And maybe Jo. But he wasn't willing to bet on that one.

So the fact that whatever had set off the alarm wasn't in Section Five meant it wasn't as heavily classified. It might even be nonmilitary. That didn't mean it wasn't valuable, or dangerous, but at least it probably wasn't a weapon.

Not a deliberate one, anyway.

Carter sighed. He was racing toward the world's top research facility to answer a tripped alarm he knew nothing about, related to some project he didn't know anything about either.

Well, at least it wasn't raining.

 

“Sheriff! Jo!” Fargo was hovering by GD's front en
trance as they pulled up. “Thank god!”

“Fargo!” Carter nodded to the wiry little researcher as he braked, put the car in park, switched off the ignition, and levered himself out of the Jeep. Jo was already several feet from the vehicle. It never failed to amaze him how fast she could move, especially since she could never be described as tall. Lovely, yes. Athletic, certainly. Dangerous, no question. But not tall. “What happened?”

“Anomalous readings,” Fargo explained as Carter caught up to him and together they headed after Jo. “A containment field rupture in bio lab twelve-B. The security protocols kicked in automatically, of course, but they couldn't compensate for the shift in pressure or the increased ionics. I'm trying to regulate both using an atmospheric moderation program, equalizing pressure and ambient temperature and static charge by redirecting air from neighboring labs, but so far it's a losing battle. I think I may need to—”

Carter cut him off. “Fargo! What are we looking at? What tripped the alarm?” They were inside GD now, charging up the steps, past the security gates and toward the central lobby. Hallways branched out to both sides, and directly across was the curving glass wall that marked the front of the director's office. Carter wanted to glance over and see if Allison was there, but right now he didn't have time for that. Nor did he have time for Fargo's typical stream of science babble. He just needed to know the basics.

Fargo blinked at him. “I did,” he confessed. “I tripped it. The alarm in the lab had been disconnected. Someone's stealing the Thunderbird!”

“Thunderbird. Right.” Carter glanced at Jo, who shrugged. “Bio lab twelve-B.” That, at least, he understood. He took off in that direction, with Jo right beside him. Fargo followed as best he could.

“What the hell's a thunderbird?” Carter muttered to his deputy as they ran. “Besides an awesome vintage muscle car, which I somehow doubt is what they're working on here.” Though at GD, you never knew.

“Native American myth,” Jo offered, not even out of breath despite the pace they were maintaining. “Massive bird spirit whose eyes shoot lightning and whose wings create claps of thunder. Ancient and powerful.”

“That's what they have in bio lab twelve-B? Remind me to stay well away from this place on Adopt-a-Pet day.” He only got a faint groan in reply.