"We don't know." Dimitri moved past him toward the stairs. "We are going to investigate."
Petrov didn't argue and followed them out.
Outside, the compound was in chaos. In the distance, a plume of dust rose against the lightening sky, marking the location of whatever had been destroyed.
"The mansion," Petrov said, squinting at the dust cloud. "The dust is coming from Navuh's house."
Dimitri frowned. "Another rebellion?"
Petrov shrugged. "Could be. Or it could be an attack from the outside."
Rebellions were violent and unpredictable, and humans could get caught in the crossfire. But if it was an attack, it could be good news for them.
"Maybe we're being rescued," Mattie said, hardly daring to voice the hope. "Maybe someone figured out what's going on here and is attacking the island to free it."
"Who would do that?" Dimitri asked. "No one even knows this place exists."
"That's impossible. No one can hide in today's world. The immortals can hide what they do here and who they are, but not the very existence of the island. Someone must have gotten curious."
"If it were an attack, there would be more than just explosions," Petrov said. "There would be fighting. Gunfire. We'd see ships or aircraft." He shook his head. "This was something else. Either sabotage or an accident. And to think that I was glad our lab was moved to the center of the island. We should have stayed on the other side, where it was safe."
If they had, she and Dimitri might not have met, and that would have been just tragic.
A squad of guards rushed past them, heading toward the mansion.
"What happened?" Petrov called after them. "What was that explosion?"
One of the guards looked over his shoulder. "Gas leak in the basement. Go back to your quarters and stay there until further notice."
"A gas leak?" Petrov's eyebrows climbed toward his receding hairline. "That's what caused multiple explosions?"
"I said, go back to your quarters." The guard's tone made it clear that the conversation was over. He caught up to his men, leaving the three of them standing in the street.
"Gas leak," Dimitri repeated skeptically. "Since when does a gas leak sound like a series of bombs going off?"
"Since whoever is in charge decides that's the story they want people to believe," Petrov said. "Why would there be gas in thatbasement? It's not like they need to heat the place. They only need gas for the kitchens."
"Then what really happened?" Mattie asked.
"I don't know, and I don't think we're going to find out standing out here." Petrov looked toward the mansion, where more guards and workers were converging, then back at the laboratory building. "Whatever it was, it's not our concern. The brothel is fine, the lab is fine, and I need a drink."
"You already have a drink." Mattie pointed at the flask sticking out from his pocket.
"It's empty." He started back toward the lab. "Come on. There's nothing we can do out here except get in the way and attract unwanted attention." He started ambling back the way they'd come.
In the lab, Petrov made a beeline for his desk, pulled open a drawer, and produced a fresh bottle of vodka.
"Where do you even get all of this?" Mattie asked. "I know it's not from the hotel."
"I get it delivered." Petrov cracked the seal and poured three generous measures into beakers that were definitely not meant for drinking. "Here. You both look like you could use it."
Mattie accepted the beaker but didn't drink. How could he even think about alcohol this early in the morning, before any of them had their coffee?
Dimitri laughed, the sound jarring given the tense moments they had just experienced. "It's not even six in the morning."
"Time is a construct," Petrov said, raising his beaker in a mock toast. "And we just survived what could have been the end of the world. I believe that calls for a celebration."
Mattie chuckled. "Whatever took place in the mansion hardly amounts to a world-ending event. We don't even know what truly happened."
