THREE

Maggie Taylor wondered if it was luck or stupidity that had her packing up her father's black Toyota SUV with camping gear, enough food for a month, as well as the .9mm he insisted she carry along, and the automatic rifle she had borrowed from another brother. She hesitated to make a decision on the merits of the intelligence of her action, herself, because she had accused her brothers on more than one occasion of being stupid for spending the time they did in the so called, Great Outdoors.

And yet here she was, a sleeping bag, tent, camper stove and any other convenience she could find room for in the SUV. Foremost being the fishing rods she had given up on years ago. They were packed securely in the back of the truck, and for all intents and purposes, Maggie Taylor was on another fool's errand for the society section of the magazine that she had been unlucky enough to be placed in.

Her last assignment had definitely been worse, she assured herself. Learning to garden with Senator Jones' grandmother in the wilds of Pennsylvania had not been her idea of a fun and relaxing few weeks. That woman had been psychotic, and Maggie thanked God daily that she had made it home alive. She could just see that little old lady with bodies buried deep beneath the Petunia and Zinnia beds she so cherished. Maggie shuddered at the thought.

"This idea isn't much better," she mumbled to herself as she bit into the Snickers bar she unwrapped as she leaned against the vehicle for a brief rest. Packing was a bitch, especially when you had to figure out how to pack everything but the kitchen sink in the back of a SUV that barely had enough room for the coolers, and tent she had started with.

Not a good idea, but that letter had wetted her curiosity just enough to have her attempting it. The letter, and the picture of the man she was being sent to contact.

It was the eyes that got her, she admitted. A golden, amber brown shadowed with darkness and reality. There had been no smile on his lips, none in his eyes, just a weary resignation that his life was only good from one moment to the next. There was no sense of hope in that gaze, just a need to live, to survive where he should have never been to begin with.

It wasn't so much the story; Maggie was being forced to admit to herself, as it was the saddened, haunting eyes of the man staring into that camera. He deserved so much more than he had inherited for his life. So much more than the men who had paid for his creation were willing to allow him. That thought was what made her so furious. They had ordered his creation, and thought they could order his death as well. The life they had helped bring into the world meant nothing to them except an experiment that wasn't working out as they had intended.

It didn't matter to them that the man had grown, developed, and carried a soul so much finer than their own. Despite their determined efforts, he had outwitted them, and had become a man in spite of them.

Maggie ignored the small flare of attraction she had felt while staring into the eyes that had been captured to paper. That had no place in her hunt for anything but the story, she lectured herself. The lecture did her little good. For the first time in Maggie's life she had seen a male form that did more than cause her to suspect him of being another, overbearing brother. Or a weak imitation that was willing to bow to her brother's demands where she was concerned.

The only bad part about it all, was camping. She was going to have to actually live in a tent, and commune with nature to catch the cat her father was sending her after. She didn't like it, but she would do it.

Besides, it beat the hell out of her brother's idea to send her to the retirement home where a group of oldies but goodies had founded a senior nudie colony, with the help and generosity of a newly elected congressman.

Still though, she thought with a wince, camping? The great outdoors? God have mercy on her, she would likely snag herself with her own fishing line. That was if the bears didn't get her first.

It had been years since her last, brief foray into any wilderness, and what she remembered was not in the least inspiring. The bugs, the snakes, wild animals. God, didn't Kentucky have a lot of wild, dangerous animals? She shivered in the pre-Laney air of early summer as the thought skated through her mind.

Weren't there bears? She suppressed a shudder. Her brothers would laugh her out of the state if they had any idea how frightened she was of the wildlife. Not that they had actually agreed to her going. Maggie thought that the only reason they were allowing it was the fact that they were convinced she would have no luck in finding her quarry.

Maggie believed she would. Just as she believed that letter held the grief and rage of a mother's fears. In those words she had read a mother's agonized hope for the child that may not be of her blood, but was definitely of her body.

The letter was ten years old though. Maggie' research into the movements of the woman had stopped in Colorado, five years before that. Going by the name Angela Salvadore, she had lived outside a small town while her son attended private school. The Mother Superior of the small catholic school had remembered the child then called Mario, well. Extremely intelligent, she had said, one of her brightest students, but very quiet and never really interested in friendships.

The mother, Maria, had been the same. The few neighbors, who remembered her told Maggie about the quiet, almost haunted woman who seemed to startle at the slightest sound.

After that, the trail completely dried up. No mention of her anywhere, no sightings of her, no nothing. It was as though the two had disappeared off the face of the Earth, and had not reappeared again until her father had received the package from her attorney. The attorney had never met her, but his instructions were clear. If he didn't hear from her for a month, then the contents she sent to him would be forwarded to Steven Taylor.

Her father had not heard from Maria, he told her, since the last several months after their last weekend camping in Sandy Hook. She had returned to California after graduation at the request of her father's family, and other than a few brief phone calls, there had been no contact between them. Then Steven had met Maggie's mother, and had slowly forgotten about his youthful lover. Forgot about her, until he received her plea, and the story of her life. A story that not just shocked him, but saddened him in ways Maggie could not name.

It the story was true then it would send shock waves around the world. Technology that was supposedly years away in being discovered, was hiding somewhere in a government storehouse on a deserted island. It was too amazing to take in all at once.

Her brothers would be sent to various points to investigate the rest of the story. Jason would head for Arizona where that second lab had supposedly been set up, that Talen had been taken to as a young man. Her brother Caleb would begin with his contacts in the scientific community, while Brandon, love his hackers heart, would see where the internet could take him. Darien was supposed to keep Zane busy and out of Maggie' hair, though Maggie doubted he could do it.

"Meri, you sure you want to do this?" Her father walked around the vehicle to face her, leaning against it with her as they watched the sun peek over the horizon. "Could be dangerous."

In his voice, Maggie could hear the beginnings of an aborted assignment. She was going to have to get out of there fast, before he really did change his mind about this.

"Yeah, mosquito's are supposed to be bred real damned big out there." She barely refrained from rolling her eyes as she glanced at her father's serious _expression. "Come on, I thought you and the boys finally agreed I was the only one who could do it? I think the general consensus now is that the story is a dead end, and I'll get no where."

Steven Taylor nodded, his brown eyes watching her closely as he did so.

"Yeah, it could be," he said softly. "Or it could be the truth. If it is, there could be a whole lot of trouble out there. Why not let Zane go out there with you, just in case?"

Maggie did roll her eyes at this idea. Her brother was ex-military, ex-SEALS, damned near ex-anything you could put a name to. Even an ex-husband. If she let him go with her, she would likely make him an ex-brother, he was so obnoxious these days. Not to mention the fact that his contempt of the person they were searching for was quite obvious.

"Zane's a good man," her father protested. "And he will likely end up following you anyway."

"Zane's a pain in the ass and you know it," Maggie told him darkly. "I don't need him looking over my shoulder. Besides, if this guy is going to trust anyone, it will be a woman. There's no way he's going to trust Zane. My darling brother resembles a psycho waiting to explode these days. And if you want this guy to ever approach me, then you better keep Zane in clear sight at all times."

"He would be the best protection for you," her father stated quietly. "This could get dangerous, Maggie. The men behind this, they don't play by rules."

"And they evidently have no idea where he is." She reminded him. "I'll find him, put your proposal to him, and head for home. Just as we agreed I would."

"That would work, if you follow it implicitly." Steven sighed, though not without some affection as he watched the morning sun begin to peek over the horizon. "Problem is, I have a feeling you'll stay there, and the situation is too dangerous to for you to hang around after finding him, just to assure yourself of a story."

"There's no danger, Dad," she assured him. "And the story is already there, all I have to do is write it. With all the proof we have, if by some chance he refuses to come in with me, then it won't make a difference. Besides, I promise, I see anything dangerous and I'll run right home"

Yeah. Right. There was little danger of that happening. If there was a story in this, she would be damned if she would let one of her brothers take the credit for her. That had been her first mistake when she had started out years ago.

Maggie had been the one to catch the rumor of the Governor and his little girlfriend. She had mentioned it to her brothers and the next thing she knew that story was splashed across the front pages, and her byline was nowhere in sight. She had learned her lesson there. The next story she had caught a whiff of, she had merely written her notes and began investigating, and until her other brother found those and did the same thing. Turncoat assholes, she thought, like she would ever give them the chance to do it again.

Despite all heated protests, Maggie had moved out of her father's house that weekend. She was being sabotaged every time she turned around, and she was tired of it.

"I've been checking into this, Merri," he finally admitted. "I'm worried. I don't think it's a hoax, and I think it's bigger than you are baby. You could get hurt. From what I've learned, this Genetics Council was larger than even Maria knew. You could get hurt."

"Not if I'm not there." She shrugged, crumbling the candy bar wrapper and pushing it into the pocket of her jeans. "I told you, first sign of trouble and I'm out."

You couldn't play it too defensively when your father was also your editor, she thought morosely. If he kept her in the society pages much longer, she swore she was going to go crazy.

"You hate camping." Her father pointed out. "It's going to be harder on your own, you won't have anyone to help you."

"I hate camping with my brothers," she argued. "They take over, tell horror stories, drink beer and bond over slaughtering helpless fish while laughing at me for eating granola bars. And I have a shit load of granola bars with me this time."

Maggie noticed that her father couldn't help but smile at this news. She knew he thought those fishing poles would never likely see a drop of water, and she saw no point in reminding him that killing the fish was her problem, not catching them.

Maggie was quite adept at baiting her own hook and fishing for hours. She could even remove the fish, and cheerfully send it back home seconds later. She had no desire to commit fish murder.

"Keep the cell phone handy," he finally ordered her. "Brandon tinkered with it last night, so it should be good anywhere you go in the area."

Her brother Brandon was the electronic wizard of the era, Maggie thought. He could tinker with anything and make it stand up and perform tricks for him. He was amazing, and yet he still worked as a reporter for the growing newspaper her father had taken over.

"I'll keep it on me at all times," she promised, adjusting her position against the vehicle they were both leaning against now.

"Maggie, if you find him, promise me you'll do no more than put the proposal to him, call, then get the hell out of there," her father demanded quietly, the worry in his voice pricking at her conscience.

"I promise," she stuck her hands in her pockets and crossed her fingers.

If she found him, she promised more along the lines of getting the hell out of there and dragging him home with her. No sense in letting such a fantastic story go once again, to her cool macho brothers.

No, Maggie promised herself, this story was hers and hers alone. She would go camp out and make nice with the natives, and see what she could find out. Her own research into this story had turned up some surprising, if worrisome information.

"Merri, I want you to be careful." Her father moved from his position against the SUV and now faced her, his _expression concerned, worried. "The more I think about this, the less I like it, and you know that."

"Stop worrying." She shook her head, her eyes narrowed against the sun rising before them. "If he's even there, he may not even let me find him. But there's no way in hell he would let one of my brothers find him. I promise, I'll let you know when I have him bagged and tagged and ready to talk to one of the Seven Wonders of the World."

Her brothers, all seven of them, had made their mark in the world, in one-way or the other. It had been Maggie's supreme misfortune to be not just the only female of the family, but also the youngest child. Once again, her luck had fallen far short of the mark.

"You better get going then." Her father sighed as he ran his hand over the four-wheel drive he had bought the year before. "And you take care of my baby here. She's not used to a heavy foot, or abuse. Both of which you practice with your vehicles."

He turned a stern gaze on her, his brown eyes softening only a bit as she grinned up at him.

"Don't worry Dad, me and Honey will get along fine." She laughed, throwing her arms around him and giving him a big hug. "Now don't start sending the boys out after me. I'll let you know if I need help, I promise."

Steven nodded, leaning down for the light kiss Maggie placed on his cheek.

"You take care, baby." He hugged her tightly. "And if you change your mind about letting Zane come out, you let me know."

Maggie blinked back her tears as her father released her. She realized the fact that she was going alone attested to her father's and her brother's confidence in her. Just as their arguments that she not go attested to their love and concern for her.

"You're picking up Moocher before you leave, right?" He asked her, grimacing at the name she had given the hundred pound German Shepard Zane had brought her two years before.

"Mooch would never forgive me if I left him home alone," she laughed, opening the door and jumping up in the seat of the SUV. "I'm picking him up at the vet where he was just given a thorough checkup."

"Did he bite the vet again?" The knowing look her father gave her had her wincing.

"Naw, I had to put a muzzle on him though, before Doc. Rogers would keep him without me there. He needed bathed and everything and I just didn't have the time to take care of it."

The massive male Shepard would obey any command Maggie gave him, but if she wasn't around then he was a terror on four legs. The vet had threatened to put him to sleep more than once.

"Take care, and keep in check." He closed the bright red door of the heavily equipped vehicle. "And don't wreck my damned truck either."

Maggie tossed him a saucy grin, started the motor and gunned it experimentally while her father seemed to tighten in pain.

"Later Pops." She blew him a kiss, ignoring the frown on his face at her nickname for him, and backed slowly out of the driveway as the sun was halfway above the horizon, and the excitement edging her on, assuring her this was going to be the adventure of a lifetime.

As Steven watched her pull out of the driveway and head down the deserted street, he couldn't help the sensation of fear that sped through his body. Had he sacrificed his daughter for the son of the lover he had never forgotten? He prayed he hadn't. Just as he prayed that his confidence in Zane's love for Maggie would still his hand when the time came to complete the job that Steven knew he would take.

Maggie was the only chance Maria's son had. Just as this would be the last chance Zane had to salvage his humanity, before becoming the cold hard killer he was quickly on his way to becoming.

Steven knew his son would eventually take the assignment, and this was the reason he allowed Maggie to take the story. It would be the only thing that would keep Zane from accepting the assignment. He might head out to Kentucky anyway, to watch over Maggie, but Steven was certain now, that Zane would leave the lethal assassins rifle at home.

**

Zane watched as the taillights of the SUV slowly disappeared. He sighed deeply, moving carefully away from the window that looked out over the driveway, and stared down at the pictures and the request in his hand.

He didn't kill innocents, he told himself once again. He wasn't a cold blooded killer, and this man hadn't killed anyone. He had hurt several mercenaries, put a cap on their careers and sent them home bleeding, but he hadn't killed.

Zane shook his head. He knew the men they had sent after the cat boy, they were good. Damned good. Zane had spoke to both of them himself over the past few days, and had come away with a small measure of respect for the animal's abilities, but he was still an animal.

Zane had been giving serious consideration to accepting the assignment when his father had dropped his little bombshell on them several nights before. The personal involvement ate at him. Maria Morales had obviously been his father's lover, as well as a friend, and the life of her son would mean a lot to Stephen. Then again, it was a child the woman should have never born to begin with.

Zane cursed viciously, not for the first time as he the internal debate waged inside him. The man hadn't killed, but neither was he a man. He wasn't a terrorist, but the scientific reports and the training the animal had, would make him more dangerous than any terrorist, if he decided to kill. A lot could happen. DNA had triggered many killers after they reach their prime of life, what was to say it wouldn't trigger this one, and he would become the animal he was bred to be?

He had proved he was capable of it by his escape from the labs, ten years before. The scientists, guards, technicians, they had all died in the inferno the animal had caused in his attempt to escape. But in that, no matter how hard he tried, Zane couldn't blame him. It was no more than he would have done himself. But it still couldn't make an animal human.

No, he was better off dead. But, Zane wondered, could he be the one to kill him, and to take a life his father deemed important, and one Maggie may well grow close to as well?