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“They require constant security coverage.”
    “Moron.” Ben had already started walking.
    LIRI consists of a dozen glass-and-steel structures surrounded by an eight-foot-high chain-link fence. Aligned in two rows, the state-of-the-art buildings flank a well-tended central courtyard. Only two access points exist: a large front gate leading to the island’s single dock, and the smaller portal at the rear. The complex contains nearly every permanent construction on Loggerhead.
    Crossing the courtyard, I was struck again by the bustle of the place. A dozen white-coated scientists dotted the grounds, some hustling between labs, others clustered around benches discussing research, snacking, or just enjoying the afternoon sun.
    Since Kit had assumed the directorship, LIRI buzzed with a new energy and sense of purpose. The staff had doubled; rare were the days you could cross the grounds without encountering a preoccupied veterinarian hurrying to update a project. With its funding permanently secured, LIRI was, once again, one of the premier wildlife research facilities on the planet.
    “Do we have to go in?” Hi hand-shaded his eyes to peer at Building One. Four floors high, it was LIRI’s biggest, housing the most sophisticated lab and the institute’s administrative headquarters. “My dad’s retooling the centrifuges, and won’t be happy to see me inside.”
    Hi’s father, Linus Stolowitski, was LIRI’s chief laboratory technician, having been promoted by Kit the previous month. Since assuming the post, Mr. S had become more officious about Morris Island teens fiddling with facility equipment.
    “Quit moaning,” Shelton said. “
Both
my parents are in there.”
    Nelson Devers, Shelton’s father, was LIRI’s IT director. His office was on the ground floor. Shelton’s mother, Lorelei, was a vet tech working in Lab One.
    “It’ll only take a sec,” I said. “Lately Kit’s so busy, I almost never see him.”
    It was true. In the two months since Kit had been named director he’d worked nonstop. Board meetings. Staff assemblies. Budget conferences. Though running himself ragged, Kit seemed happy. Ditto every worker at the institute.
    On Loggerhead Island, Kit was practically a god.
    When lack of funding had threatened to shut LIRI down, Kit’s generosity had saved the day. At least, that’s what everyone thought.
    No one but Kit knew who’d really bankrolled the institute. That the boys and I had discovered and donated the she-pirate Anne Bonny’s lost treasure to LIRI. That those underfoot teenagers had actually kept LIRI’s doors open.
    And the Virals were just fine with that.
    The less scrutiny
we
received, the better.
    “Wait here, boy.” I attached Coop’s rarely used leash and looped it around a railing beside the entrance. “No wolfdogs allowed.”
    Coop dropped to his belly, chin on paws, disapproval clear in his eyes. At seventy pounds and still growing, he was a sizeable animal. His half-wolf pedigree gave him a fearsome look, right up until he licked your face. I suspected he’d spook a few squints while he waited for us to return.
    No big deal. A little something to spice up their day.
    Passing through hermetically sealed doors, we approached the security kiosk. The other half of LIRI’s frontline defense manned the desk. Sam was Carl’s polar opposite, skeleton gaunt and completely bald. Though older, and terminally sarcastic, he was usually the more congenial of the two.
    “Ah, the vagrants return.” Sam’s lips twitched in a half smile. “Break anything expensive today?” He wasn’t holding a shooting or hunting magazine, which could only mean one thing—his new boss was nearby.
    On cue, a voice boomed from an office behind Sam’s desk. “State your business.”
    Security Chief David Hudson emerged. Forty-something, graying, hair buzzed to his scalp, Hudson had the unyielding glare of a bird of prey. His uniform was neatly pressed, his shoes and name tag gleaming.
    After