Before I can answer, the waiter arrives with my shooter and I knock it back, along with my reply. Turning to Kane, deliberately excluding her, I ask, “How’d it go yesterday?”
Leaning back in his chair, watching the exchange, Kane gives me a slight shake of his head, and I know not to pursue that line of inquiry, that Dancer Lady turned Dragon Librarian knows nothing of the kidnapping. Not that I was privy to all the details. I was given a stakeout role, but that was it.
I spent most of yesterday alone, my roommates deserting me at the sound of my first heave. Even with my head hanging over the toilet, I wondered how the kidnapping played out. If this operation involving Hutchinson’s daughter succeeds, it will be AFD’s greatest coup. Unless I can pull off something bigger with the job Kane has in mind.
“What’s my assignment?” I ask Kane, keeping my voice low.
Kane shifts forward in his chair. “We’re going undercover at a product-testing lab.”
A spike of adrenaline courses through my veins. “SolomiChem?”
Kane nods.
SolomiChem Laboratories is a contract research organization that conducts toxicity tests on behalf of the agricultural, chemical, and pharmaceutical industries. From general research, I know that every year this secretive facility experiments on thousands of animals. Animal rights organizations have campaigned for years to shut the place down. Failing that, they lobbied the government, as well as SolomiChem board members, to replace animal experimentation with alternative testing procedures. That attempt also fell flat. In the end, they simply demanded transparency in SolomiChem’s laboratory dealings, but the company wouldn’t even concede to that demand.
For a while now, AFD has been attempting to get someone inside SolomiChem to expose what they suspect is going on in there. Now that someone will be me.
“When do I go undercover?” I ask Kane.
He frowns. “You’re not going undercover.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Heather has applied for a job as an assistant animal technician at SolomiChem. Her application was accepted.”
“What!” The word explodes from my lips. “She’s as green as the lasagna strips I was hacking up yesterday.”
“I’m not as green as you think I am,” Heather retorts. “I’m going into my second year of study for a diploma in veterinary nursing. I volunteer at an animal shelter, which means I’ve had a fair amount of experience working with animals.”
I cock an eyebrow at her. “You think one year at college qualifies you for this kind of work?”
“One year is better than none,” she says pointedly.
A sneer twists my lips.From the moment I sat down, you had me tagged. The motorcycle helmet, the too long hair, and tight T-shirt all point to Loser Troublemaker in your mind. And I haven’t even shown you my tattoo.
“I’ve been to college too,” I say, pinning her with my eyes. “I’ve poured paint stripper over vehicles that transport animals to university research labs. Tell me, does that count?”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Kane orders, shooting me an irritated look.
“I won’t do anything illegal,” Heather informs Kane. “I was very clear about that.”
“You won’t be breaking the law,” he reassures her. “All you’re required to do is keep a diary and, whenever you can, take pictures and video footage of what you see. Exactly as I explained to you.”
Taking in Heather’s worried expression, I stretch back in my chair and fold my arms with satisfaction.Yep, had you pegged as well. All I need do is add up that tightly buttoned shirt and that dishwater brown hair trapped in its rigid bun and I get the teacher’s pet. Daddy’s little girl. All-round do-gooder.
“Why her?” I question Kane. “Why can’t I go in?”
“Justin, you know that most job applicants to research labs have to undergo security screening. You wouldn’t pass.”
“I’ll use a fake ID.”
“And you know the cops film protests so they can identify who’s active. Guess whose face is most likely to feature on their footage?”
“Aahh, c’mon!”
“I don’t believe you’re ready for this kind of assignment.”
My body stiffens with the insult. “Not ready!”
