"Now I understand why you were asking me about car repairs," Cheng Ho said, staggering out of the car with a bright red forehead from the airbag impact. He looked at the smoking Suburban's crushed front end and couldn't help but click his tongue.
Jack wasn't feeling great either. He shook his slightly dizzy head and leaned on the door to look down the slope at the overturned Mercedes G-Class. Thankfully, the Suburban was borrowed—he didn't feel even a shred of pain for wrecking it.
Callen had already slid down the slope and was now crouched by the vehicle, peering inside while the others surrounded the car with weapons drawn.
"Is Comescu in there?" Danny asked as he stepped forward.
"No. Just the driver," Callen replied, grabbing the unconscious man by the collar and dragging him out through the window. "Comescu must've jumped out somewhere near the warehouse district."
"I think he's over there." Standing higher up, Jack pointed toward a small black dot on the sea—a speedboat heading toward Oahu, already far out of reach.
"We all got played," Kono muttered angrily, kicking a rock on the ground that clattered and bounced away.
Jack opened the Suburban's trunk and pulled out masks and gloves. "Guys, we've still got something more important to do."
——
Leaving Kono behind on the gravel beach to watch the unconscious driver and wait for HPD and the ambulance, the rest of the group returned to the warehouse that now had a gaping hole in its side.
Once they confirmed the place was quiet, everyone donned masks and gloves and cautiously entered through the damaged metal wall.
"What the hell is this place?" Danny muttered as he stepped inside the scene that looked straight out of a third-rate sci-fi movie.
In the center of the warehouse stood a sealed chamber constructed from aluminum framing and frosted glass. It had an inner and outer section separated by an airtight door, while the outer area was covered only by clear plastic curtains.
Around the chamber were large yellow corrugated tubes as thick as a person's torso. The filters connected to them were still humming.
"Looks like a makeshift virus lab," Callen said, lifting the plastic curtain and stepping inside. The entryway was lined with metal tables, equipped with measuring cups, test tubes, and instruments like electronic microscopes.
"…And isolation ward."
Following behind, Jack could make out hospital beds and vital signs monitors through the airtight door. But the flat, piercing alarm sound coming from inside wasn't promising—it was the sound of a stopped heart.
"You guys are just going in like that?" Danny raised his hands in exasperation and crossed himself before reluctantly following.
"If you don't want to be quarantined and miss the rest of the operation, don't touch anything. We're already too late."
Jack, right behind Callen, grabbed his arm just as he was about to open the airtight door and pointed at the lab's monitoring screen on the table outside.
"There's no one alive in there. Better wait for the CDC to handle it."
Hearing that, Danny carefully leaned in for a look, and his face immediately darkened. "The three missing people are all in there. They were injected with smallpox."
Inside the sealed ward were four hospital beds. Three of them were occupied by bodies strapped down at the wrists and ankles, their exposed skin covered in pox lesions from the virus.
"But that's not what killed them," said Hanna grimly, abandoning his usual banter.
It was clear on the monitor: all three had been shot in the head. The blood sprayed across the white sheets had already turned dark.
Callen's voice was rough, burning with suppressed fury. "Comescu executed them."
——
"Seeing all that makes me really glad I was left on the beach," Kono said, arms crossed as she watched five men awkwardly change in front of her.
The CDC had set up a plastic tent outside the warehouse as a makeshift decontamination room. Everyone who'd been inside the virus lab had to strip down for a full disinfectant shower.
Thankfully, by the time Kono arrived, they were already wearing long shorts—otherwise she really would've seen everything.
"This kind of show usually charges admission," Jack quipped, embracing the philosophy that if he wasn't embarrassed, everyone else would be.
Kono responded with a teasing wolf whistle. "Hey, this is Hawaii. The beach is full of free views. But if you give me a little dance, I might even throw in a five-dollar tip just for you."
"I'll be sure to bring this up with our uncle and aunt, cousin," Cheng Ho said smoothly.
The color drained from Kono's face.
Just then, Max the coroner—still dressed like an astronaut—walked out of the tent. After removing his helmet, he spoke in his usual emotionless monotone.
"I recovered several vials of smallpox samples, but it's definitely not the full batch. Someone already took part of the packaged stock. I'm unable to determine the exact quantity at this time."
Everyone's mood instantly turned grim again.
Kono frowned. "But we didn't find any virus in Comescu's car. He must've taken it with him."
Jack looked back toward the makeshift lab in the warehouse. "That equipment doesn't look like it was set up just for basic virus replication or demonstration. I even saw a radiation symbol on one of the lead containers.
Romanian mobsters don't have the technical chops to operate that kind of specialized gear—let alone use radioactive materials. Someone's been genetically modifying the smallpox virus."
Max nodded in agreement. "I concur. At least one highly qualified professional was involved—someone with one or two doctorates in medicine and biology, minimum.
The CDC and I found a large number of surveillance recordings. This expert documented the entire experiment process. But all the evidence needs to be fully sterilized and analyzed at the CDC lab."
"Okay, Kono, go with Max to the CDC facility. Let's hope those tapes show us what this 'Frankenstein' looks like." Danny rubbed his arm, still visibly shaken.
Callen exchanged a glance with his partner. "Hanna and I are going to investigate potential smallpox buyers—compare them against recent incoming flight manifests to Hawaii."
"I'll come with. I've got some contacts over at TSA," Cheng Ho offered.
Danny nodded in approval, then turned to Jack. "Jack, you're coming with me to the hospital. Let's see if we can get Comescu's driver to talk."
"The hospital, huh…" Jack hesitated. "Guys like that aren't easy to crack. Can we pull him out of the hospital for a private interrogation? He didn't look seriously injured."
"No, no, no—don't need to go that far. I've got an idea. Should work like a charm," Danny said, flashing a confident grin.
______
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