They were all connected.
"I can't tell you in case any of you is captured. The bottom line is that the women have been reported missing and a manhunt is about to get underway once the head count in the enclosure confirms it. You are no longer safe here."
"I know that," Petrov said. "Number Three explained that part. What I want to know is where are you taking us, because I can't imagine any place on this godforsaken island that is safe."
"We know a place. You'll have to trust us on that."
It was difficult to ask frightened people to move without telling them toward what, but there was no helping it. If any of the humans were taken, they couldn't reveal what they didn't know.
The cove, the tunnel, the submarine, the second operation still unfolding in the basement under the mansion, it all had to stay confidential for now.
"We will shroud you to appear as dock workers this time," Yaaf said in the Brotherhood language while Number Four translated for the benefit of the foreign-born. "You'll be loading cargo into the truck at the quay. Keep your heads down, carry what you're given, and move at the unhurried pace of people performingtheir jobs. As long as you do nothing that drastically contradicts this scenario, no one will pay any attention to you."
It wouldn't be as easy to pull off as he was making it sound. The Eight hadn't slept, and they'd been thralling heavily since dawn. They were depleted, but at least they were together now, and that was when they were the strongest.
Once the lab equipment was all sorted out, the eight of them picked up boxes and joined the procession exiting the hold. They worked the perimeter of attention, reaching out to every mind on the quay and turning its focus away. The women came down the gangway carrying cases or bundles, Sullha carrying Tomek and Rohilah holding Bianca.
Number One diverted a tiny portion of the thrall to the children, smoothing over their fear so they relaxed in their mothers' arms.
They walked straight from the gangway into the back of the truck under the eyes of a dozen workers and a pair of harbor guards, and not one of those eyes settled on them.
They were loading the last of the laboratory cases into the truck bed when the channel came alive in Yaaf's ear, notifying all forces of a lockdown going into effect and instructing everyone to keep their eyes open for ten missing women.
They were out of the grace period.
A moment later, Number One's phone buzzed in his pocket.
He whipped it out before it could attract the attention of the harbor guards and ducked into the back of the truck.
"We heard," he said instead of greeting. "It was confirmed."
"Yes," Losham said. "I didn't hear back from you. Where are you?"
"The harbor. We thought we would snoop around here, see if anyone knows anything."
"And?" Losham's voice was dripping with impatience.
"Nothing here. We are moving to the resort area. We'll report as soon as we have anything."
"You do that. We are out of time."
"Well aware, sir."
The line went dead.
Number One activated the transmitter of the earpiece that connected him to Yamanu and the clan's command center. "Lockdown is in effect. Alert your compeller."
"Thanks for the heads up," Yamanu said. "Do you have them out of the hold?"
"Yes. They are boarding the truck. We will arrive at the basement in the next ten minutes."
"Good luck," Yamanu said.
"Thank you." Number One ended the transmission, then thought better of it and activated it again. "I'm leaving the channel open if that's okay with you."
"Good call."
Out across the dock, radios crackled to life, and the same guards who had been in a state of idle boredom became more alert, scanning the area with sharp eyes. In the space of a breath, theordinary indifferent commerce of the dock turned into a charged danger zone.
