Calypso Directive (25 page)

C. Remy—
RS:Coordinator
: “Receiving your feed on two-second time delay. It looks good.”

A. Archer—
RS:Bio
: “I'm in position now.”

C. Remy—
RS:Coordinator
: “Electrician, cut the power.”

Local Embed—
RS:Electrician
: “The power is off. Standing by to restore power on your mark.”

C. Remy—
RS:Coordinator
: “Bio, you are a go for entry.”

A. Archer—
RS:Bio
: “Roger, I'm going in.”

AJ pressed the flat bottom of the star-shaped knob against the metal surface of the emergency exit door and turned it ninety degrees clockwise, just like Kalen had instructed him to do. From the street, the emergency exit door had no handle, so AJ needed to make one. Kalen had called the device a vacuum clamp; it worked like a suction cup, except it was orders of magnitude stronger and could adhere to virtually any solid surface. Turn it ninety degrees clockwise to engage, ninety degrees counterclockwise to disengage. Presto, instant doorknob.

AJ took a deep breath and pulled. The emergency exit door swung open with ease, the latch mechanism still frozen in the retracted position by Kalen's epoxy. AJ removed the vacuum clamp, slipped it back into his pocket, and stepped across the threshold. Corridor E was pitch dark, save the shrinking triangle of daylight that disappeared quickly as the door swung shut behind him. He had only eight minutes of darkness to complete the mission and no time to waste second-guessing. He needed to move. He extended his arms and walked at forty-five degree angle to his right, until his hand bumped into the wall. He turned his hand to the thumb down position so that his right palm laid flat against the wall. With a surface to guide him and aid his balance, AJ shuffled down the corridor.

C. Remy—
RS:Coordinator
: “Bio, report?”

The sound of C. Remy's voice suddenly in his ear startled AJ, almost causing him to trip.

A. Archer—
RS:Bio
: “I'm inside, moving down Corridor E, but it's pitch black.”

C. Remy—
RS:Coordinator
: “Why aren't you using your light?”

A. Archer—
RS:Bio
: “Because . . . because I forgot I had a light.”

AJ reached into the left pocket of his navy blue maintenance worker coveralls and retrieved the LED minilight. The beam from the flashlight illuminated a fifteen-foot cone in front of him. He jogged to the end of the corridor and then pressed his ear up against the door. He heard nothing. With the building power off and the elevators inoperable, traversing the stairs would be his biggest risk of counterdetection.

He turned off his light, opened the door, and crept into the bottom of the stairwell. Overhead, he heard another door swing open, followed by the sound of footsteps, then the door slammed shut with a reverberating echo. On a metal landing somewhere above him, two men began arguing heatedly in Czech; their individual flashlight beams zigzagged wildly over the concrete walls as they gestured.

He hesitated.

He had two choices: Slink up the stairs to the second floor now using their argument as a distraction, or wait for them to leave. With option one he risked an ill-fated mid-stair encounter; with option two he risked being pinned down too long to complete his mission.

His heart pounded.

He wanted someone to tell him what to do, but this time, he was on his own.

•     •     •

A BEAD OF
sweat rolled down Albane's forehead. It was hot, uncomfortable, and rank inside the yellow biosafety suit, but she was smiling. Smiling in the dark. Scenario Bravo Fourteen Delta was going swimmingly. As soon as the power had gone out Officer Moderkiek had begun to panic. He had instructed his two charges to stay put at the security checkpoint at Corridor C, while he went back through the double doors to talk with another guard about checking on the emergency diesel generator. But staying put was the last thing she and Kalen intended to do. Nicolora had unexpectedly changed the Op Plan to include accessing the Level Four laboratory. No further explanation had been given. The instructions were simple, search for and retrieve any samples related to Vyrogen's secret formula. Entering the Chiarek Norse facility had gone smoothly. Exiting with the samples in hand and without blowing their cover was another matter altogether. Their success going forward hinged solely on Kalen's talents.

Albane nudged Kalen.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

“Let's go. Before Moderkiek comes back.”

In all the years Moderkiek had worked in the building, he could recall losing power only once, and that time the emergency diesel generator on the roof had kicked on automatically. He was angry. The timing of this power outage could not have been worse for the Chiarek Norse security detail. First, the infected American escaped, and now this. With government inspectors present no less! He wanted to scream, and so he did, at the Corridor B security guard. Arguing with his colleague didn't solve anything, but it did make him feel better. It was imperative that someone check the diesel generator, but he did not want that someone to be him. He had assigned himself the responsibility of escorting the beautiful inspector woman, a responsibility he had no intention of delegating. Unfortunately, the Corridor B security guard was steadfast in defending his obligation to remain at his post at the BioSecurity Level Four boundary door. As much as Moderkiek wanted to overrule the junior guard, he could not. As the senior guard on duty, if he could not find another guard to check on the diesel generator, he would have to do it himself.

From the corner of his eye, Moderkeik caught a glimpse of a flashlight moving in the stairwell below. He abruptly stopped yelling at the Level Four guard and peered down into the darkness. Someone had just entered the stairwell on the ground floor. Good. Whoever it was, Moderkeik would order him to check the diesel generator, so he could quickly return to his official escort duties.

AJ's legs seemed to make the decision for him, because he felt his body moving while his brain was still engaged in debate. He powered on the LED flashlight and aimed the beam downward toward the stairs. He could not afford an untimely tumble. Besides, all facility employees would be using flashlights—to do otherwise would be conspicuous.

To his dismay, the stairwell fell silent. A deep, angry voice bellowed in Czech above him. He knew the utterance was directed at him, but since he didn't speak Czech, he was unable to translate.

He kept moving.

The voice called out again.

He did not look up. Only a few meters left to go. As he reached for the door handle to access Level Two, he heard footsteps echoing above. He yanked and the door opened freely. He was in.

C. Remy—
RS:Coordinator
: “Good job, Bio. Proceed ten meters down the corridor. Turn right at the first intersection.”

This time, the sound of the Coordinator's voice did not startle him. The opposite was true. Like an invisible wingman, C. Remy was with him. Guiding and emboldening him.

If the men in the stairwell were in chase, then he needed to be clear of their line of sight before they reached Level Two. He needed to make that right turn. He sprinted down the corridor to the first intersection, rounded the bend, and slammed into someone walking the opposite direction. He heard a woman yelp, followed by the sound of a body hitting the floor.

His heart pounded. Like a hyperventilating scuba diver, fighting the fatal urge to tear the regulator from his mouth, AJ resisted addressing the woman in English. He stood over her, legs straddled, looking down in silence.

R. Nicolora—
Founder One
: “AJ, this is Founder One, listen to my voice and repeat exactly what I say.”

The voice in AJ's ear was calm and steady, and he recognized it immediately. Nicolora pronounced a short phrase in Czech, carefully enunciating each word. He repeated the phrase in a normal speaking cadence, and then again a third time.

AJ repeated the phrase verbatim, mimicking Nicolora's intonation as best he could.

The woman collected herself and put on a good face, seemingly satisfied with AJ's simple apology. She spoke to him in Czech as she extended her hand for him to help her to her feet.

R. Nicolora—
Founder One
: “She just chastised you for running in the dark. Now repeat exactly what I say and then laugh in a self-deprecating way.”

AJ mimicked Nicolora's Czech words as he pulled the woman to her feet. She laughed, brushing her clothes with her hands as if to straighten out any wrinkles from the tumble, a pointless exercise in the dark.

AJ smiled and began to walk away. The woman called out after him.

AJ could hear Nicolora laugh on the line. AJ laughed, mimicking Nicolora.

R. Nicolora—
Founder One
: “Good. Now say goodbye in Czech. Keep moving. Don't look back at her.”

AJ did exactly as Nicolora instructed and to his relief, the woman did not follow him. With the corridor now empty, he picked up the pace.

A. Archer—
RS:Bio
: “I've got to know. What did I say to her?”

R. Nicolora—
Founder One
: “You told her you were very sorry, but you are not especially skilled with women in the dark. To which she replied that was too bad and she hoped you fared better with women in the light.”

A. Archer—
RS:Bio
: “Nice.”

R. Nicolora—
Founder One
: “Humor is a powerful diffuser of tension. A well-timed joke can save your ass in our line of work.”

A. Archer—
RS:Bio
: “Yes, Sir. I'll be sure to remember that.”

C. Remy—
RS:Coordinator
: “Bio, this is the Coordinator. According to the building plans the server room is the third door on your right.”

A. Archer—
RS:Bio
: “Third door on my right . . . got it. I'm there.”

He peered through the small glass window on the door and saw something he did not expect—rows and rows of modular computer towers—a city of blinking LED lights in an otherwise dark room.

A. Archer—
RS:Bio
: “Uh guys, I've never actually seen one in person, but from the hardware they're packing in here, I'd wager our friends have got themselves a supercomputer.”

E. VanCleave—
RS:Technical
: “Are you certain? Describe what you see.”

A. Archer—
RS:Bio
: “Four rows of black cabinets six and a half feet tall, four feet wide. The enclosures look like parallelograms. Everything is humming, so they definitely have UPS. I'm going to try the door . . . Negative, it's locked.”

E. VanCleave—
RS:Technical
: “What you described sounds like IBM Blue Gene Towers. Supercomputers. Coordinator, access the registered and unregistered IBM client list. See if Vyrogen has purchased a Blue Gene supercomputer.”

C. Remy—
RS:Coordinator
: “Copy. Assigning the task.”

E. VanCleave—
RS:Technical
: “Bio, check if there's a gap between the bottom of the door and the floor.”

A. Archer—
RS:Bio
: “There's a gap. Approximately one half inch.”

E.VanCleave—
RS:Technical
: “That will do nicely. Deploy the spiders.”

AJ reached into his pocket and withdrew three ovoids VanCleave had given him earlier.

A. Archer—
RS:Bio
: “Um, how do I turn them on?”

E. VanCleave—
RS:Technical
: “Squeeze each one three times between your forefinger and thumb. Then, set it down on the floor, smooth side up.”

AJ did as instructed. After the third squeeze, a blue LED on the belly of the spider turned on, and the tiny object came to life. He took a step backward and shined his light on the trio to watch the transformation. Silently, eight tiny legs unfolded, extended and elevated the body off the floor. The micro-bots shuddered in unison, like ducks shaking water from their feathers after a swim, and then began to rotate in place. One full revolution clockwise, then one counterclockwise.

A. Archer—
RS:Bio
: “What are they doing?”

E. VanCleave—
RS:Technical
: “Calibration sequence.”

A. Archer—
RS:Bio
: “It's creepy.”

E. VanCleave—
RS:Technical
: “Any second they should finish calibrating and attempt to log into our network, using your phone as a modem.”

AJ watched the robot spiders complete their calibration sequence, blink twice, and then scurry under the gap of the door. He stepped toward the door and peered in the window, looking down at the floor. He could see three faint blue lights moving across the floor straight toward the server rack.

A. Archer—
RS:Bio
: “My God, they're fast little buggers. So that's it? They'll do the rest by themselves?”

E. VanCleave—
RS:Technical
: “Yes.”

A. Archer—
RS:Bio
: “Good. Then get me out of here.”

C. Remy—
RS:Coordinator
: “Negative. Founder One has changed your tasking. Standby for routing to the record room.”

A. Archer—
RS:Bio
: “What? Why?”

C. Remy—
RS:Coordinator
: “Founder One wants to see Foster's paper files. Your new tasking is to find his medical charts.”

E. VanCleave—
RS:Technical
: “Coordinator, this is Technical. I strongly recommend against this course of action. All the information we need is on the servers. Re-tasking Bio increases the probability of detection forty-one percent. It increases the probability of mission failure thirty-three percent.”

R. Nicolora—
Founder One
: “Objection noted, but the potential payoff justifies the risk. Even in this day and age of electronic records, one thing I can tell you for certain is that doctors take notes. Doctors who are research scientists, I surmise, take copious notes. I want Bio to look at Foster's handwritten records. Meredith didn't give us copies of his paper charts. Maybe we need to ask ourselves why. Coordinator, where is the record room?”