He wasn’t in the control van either. Mercer, still wearing his borrowed wet suit and oblivious to the sharp stones that cut into his bare feet as he searched the camp, found his friend in the rec hall. Dr. Briana Marie was with him, her lab coat tossed over a sofa as she and Ira conferred over a thick binder. Both simply glanced up when he crashed through the door. Dr. Marie closed the file and leaned back in her chair. Ira ran a hand across his bald head. The only sound was a steady whir from an air conditioner and the drip of seawater off Mercer’s body. He threw his flippers into a corner. “Nuclear physicist?” he taunted Briana. “How about Harry fucking Houdini?” “You were told not to enter the cavern,” she snapped back. “Easy, Doctor,” Ira said. “He isn’t cleared for this project, Admiral. You assured me he could complete the tunnel to the cavern and not ask questions.” Ira shot her a hard look. “I don’t like lying to my friends and I’ve done it long enough.
