Mace sneered. “You tell them to sit, they sit. You tell them roll over, they roll over. One of them snapped and now needs to be muzzled to be allowed anywhere near humans. Yeah, they’re dogs. Scaly, semi-intelligent, flying dogs.” He shook his head. “You’re never going to convince me that those copies are anything like us.”

“Enough,” I said, as the scientist rose fully upright, bristling with fury and indignation. “Dr. Olsen, please sit down. Mr. Mace, it doesn’t matter what the vessels are, or your personal thoughts on them. You will still train them as you would any new recruit, and you will get them battle ready as soon as you can, because that is what Talon requires. Their success or failure reflects on you—on all of us. The organization has given us this task, and we must see it through.” I narrowed my eyes at the other dragon. “Unless, of course, you want to inform Talon that the project they have invested so much time, resources and money into is a waste, and the subjects are nothing but intelligent canines.”

Mace glared at me, his face tight, then smirked. “No, we can’t have them thinking that, can we?” he muttered, and bowed his head. A short, simple gesture in my direction. “All right, boss,” he said, only slightly begrudgingly. “If that’s what you want, I’ll whip these dragon dogs into shape in no time.”

“Good.” I smiled as Dr. Olsen sat down again, still glowering. “We’re a team,” I reminded them. “With a common interest. Our goals are the same, and the organization is watching us. If there is a problem, or if you need anything, please come to me. I will do whatever it takes to ensure that we succeed. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” said nearly everyone, including Mace.

“All right.” I nodded and looked at Dr. Olsen, the only one who hadn’t answered with the rest of them. “One more thing,” I told him. “You understand, more than anyone, that this project must succeed. We cannot allow anything to endanger it. There can be no instability, no ‘glitches’ in the program. Nothing we cannot predict.”

“I know that, Mr. Hill,” Dr. Olsen said. “And you are obviously leading up to something. So please stop stalling. Whatever you want me to do, out with it already.”

“As you say.” I hardened my voice and crushed my own doubts. This was necessary, I told myself. I had to prove to the team, to the workers and to Talon, that I had the strength to make this project a success. Even if some things had to be sacrificed. “The vessel that attacked the worker,” I said, watching Dr. Olsen’s face turn white. “Terminate it.”

RILEY

I leaped back, drawing my gun and firing at the first soldiers that came down the stairs. The shots boomed in the dark stairwell, flaring white and sparking off the railing and walls. The soldiers didn’t slow down, their heavy combat armor deflecting the pistol rounds as they raised their assault rifles.

There was a ripple of energy, and a small red dragon suddenly appeared, nearly crushing me into the wall, a split second before her jaws opened and a column of flame roared up the steps. It blazed a furious orange in the enclosed space, turning the stairwell into an oven and catching the first soldiers in the blast. They flinched back with cries of alarm and pain, giving us a few seconds to flee down the stairs. Before the roar of assault rifles joined the deafening cacophony as the rest of them opened fire.

I hit the door first and yanked it open to let the red dragon bound through before I darted in behind her. “This way!” I hissed, running past the rows of glass tubes and ducking behind one of the long white counters, kneeling down to stay hidden. Ember followed, pressed close to the floor like a cat, her wings folded tight to her body. Peeking around the corner, I whispered a curse. Across the floor, on the opposite wall, the stairwell door opened and soldiers spilled into the lab.

“Dammit,” I whispered, shrugging out of my jacket and tossing it aside. “There’s no way out. We’re going to have to fight our way through.” The gun holster and 9 mm joined the discarded jacket; it was no use trying to shoot the enemy. That heavy armor would just absorb pistol rounds. Not that claws and teeth would fare much better; if I was close enough to a soldier of St. George to bite him, he and his friends were definitely close enough to shoot me full of holes.

“How many of them?” Ember growled softly.

“Hard to say. At least eight, maybe more.”

I shivered, trying to banish the sudden fear, the dark reality of the situation. We were trapped. I tried to tell myself this was no different than the other times St. George had had us surrounded, but I knew better. There was no escape from this floor. No windows, no back doors, no hidden exits. No way out except up the stairs that were now crawling with soldiers and guns. I didn’t know how many soldiers were above us or might have surrounded the building, but the chances of even making it to the front entrance seemed pretty bleak.