Transparency: Bio-Tech Cavern Secrets Untold (26 page)

“George, go over to building C14. Round up everyone for the security meeting. I want the scientists involved, too. Take everyone over to the building B1 conference room.” Palmier glanced at the wall clock. “In twenty minutes, at noon. Before you leave, lock down C14.”

Altman gave Palmier a starved dog look and said, “Yes sir, what about Halliday?”

“Lock him in the interview room. I want him to see what’s in store when we return.”

Palmier must have noticed the rage in Altman’s eyes. “Don’t hurt him yet. He has information we need.”

“Let’s go,” Altman said to Halliday.

“Evidence is being forwarded to the State Attorney General even as we speak. It proves that Genevieve, in collusion with the federal government, doctored the Foxworth’s original deed,” Halliday called over his shoulder to Palmier. “This place is going to be a ghost town this time next month.”

“Through the door, asshole,” Altman said.

He glanced behind as Brad Palmier stood, stiff as a scarecrow. Halliday thought the man’s mind must be racing.

“I’m going to have fun with you later, Halliday,” Altman said as he shut the door. “Take a look.”

Although the high tech chair appeared innocent enough, the paraphernalia positioned around it worried him. “You torture your own employees?”

“I find the truth. My success rate is one hundred percent,” Altman said.

The high voltage generator next to the chair had a large red dial to vary the voltage during Altman’s torture exercises. An intravenous network snaked to a termination point. Hypodermic needles lay readied on a dental table. Various medical, dental, and mechanical instruments were laid alongside the needles. A medicine cabinet on the wall held Altman’s preferred drugs.

Crazy monster.

All of the items had been designed to fix things. In the hands of the egomaniac Altman, they would be capable of inflicting excruciating pain.

“Prepare to enter the gates of hell soon, asshole,” Altman blurted in Halliday’s ear as Brad Palmier entered.

“George, get going,” Palmier said in a voice tinged with irritation.

The distraught security honcho slammed both doors during his departure. Halliday said to Palmier, “You should keep him on a leash.”

Palmier pointed a gun at him. “I have issues to take care of. When I return you are going to tell me all you know about the ASCENT project. I want to hear what you know of Jillian Foxworth Andrews’ death. Where is my ‘back from the dead’ ex-wife, Laurel McKittrick?”

“Back from the dead? Your fantasies don’t end in the labs, do they, Palmier? If I were you I would give the FBI report more credence than Altman does.”

“No one has ever left this room without telling all.”

“Why should I say anything? Altman just threatened to murder me.”

“That was just George being George,” Palmier said. “We don’t remove people from society for no reason. We’re concerned citizens performing a difficult job that will benefit mankind.” A debate went on in Palmier’s face before the man said, “Besides, the lives of a few bums don’t amount to much.”

Does that include detectives?

Palmier added, “You know what I think?” The suave executive straightened his tie.

“There’s no evidence on the way to the State Attorney General.”

Halliday didn’t do a good job at refuting Palmier’s statement with his damaged face.

“Halliday, I suggest you have a seat. We designed that chair for maximum comfort. George will be along soon. He’s a skilled craftsman of the art of torture.

Halliday stood steadfast.

“Don’t bother to attempt an escape.” Palmier raised his ID card. “No exit without one of these.” He knocked on the wall. “Solid core, steel reinforced. You heard the siren in the hallway. You can’t disable it without a remote control device. If a miracle happened and you made it through the door, at the same instant an electronic signal would alert the security team. They would arrive before you reached the annex entrance.”

Palmier’s overconfident gave him hope.

Palmier and his bulldog, George Altman, had motivated him. Halliday allowed two minutes for the rat to exit the premises.

Halliday grabbed a roll of duct tape and a large crowbar out of a large stand-alone tool chest. He removed his jacket and retrieved Palmier’s old ID card from inside the lining. The card should have been deactivated after coming up missing. He counted on Palmier and Altman’s carelessness.

He crossed his fingers and swiped the card across the reader.

The familiar click caused elation. “Yes.”

He opened the door into the empty main annex office. The wall clock indicated 12:05
p.m.

Halliday estimated the location of the bell alarm, on the opposite wall. With a tight grip on the crowbar, he tore into the wall. They had used dry wall here instead of solid core. Halliday ripped a hole in the wall. He found half inch PVC tubing exiting the alarm bell housing. He swung the teethed end of the crowbar, shattering the elbow of the PVC, exposing the wires. Another whack with the crowbar slashed them.

“More security violations, George,” he said. Altman should have used solid core walls throughout. The plastic PVC should have been steel PVC.

He swiped the card again.

The door opened. The blinding red lamp alarm disturbed him. A single whack with the crowbar darkened the hallway.

Halliday headed down the hall with caution.

Dizziness returned, causing him to lean into the wall. He fought it off.

Just before the entrance, off to the right, he saw a bank vault door marked NO ENTRY. Another flashing light stood sentinel above the vault door. A red bell waited to blast the eardrums of an unauthorized intruder.

Halliday figured the door led to building C14. Altman didn’t want to have his boys seen dragging bodies along the sidewalk between here and the lab.

He had seen no surveillance cameras inside the annex building. The building lacked windows. He gripped the crowbar and opened the door.

Outside Halliday breathed fresh air. He saw no one. His relief wouldn’t allow for time to relax.

Building C14 loomed above the security annex. Halliday glanced around. Surveillance cameras monitored the path to C14. He hurried to the other side of the annex which had less camera exposure.

Genevive security earned another ding. They had allowed landscapers to place too much foliage next to the buildings. They were expecting nosy employees, not special agents experienced in protecting the Madam Secretary.

Another dizzy spell caused Halliday to lean into the annex wall. He gritted his teeth. He had come too far to lose it now

# # #

Building C14 stood off by itself, like an alien spacecraft stranded in the forest. The four story black cube rested on an array of huge stunted golf tee shaped supports. Perhaps they offset the effects of an earthquake. On the flat roof, a metal inverted arch curved from the center to one corner, to capture stray bursts of lightning for their
Frankenstein
experiments.

The Genevive executives must have known that the structure would stoke the curiosity of the employees. He could imagine the muted conversations on the second floor veranda lounges. Did security have listening devices installed? Altman would invite the guilty parties to the security annex for lattes followed by a stint in the torture chair.

The black structure spanned a good forty yards on each side. Its height equaled about two-thirds of that. The security annex and building C14 stood isolated from other Genevive buildings by a curved path of thick pine trees, extending a hundred yards in a perfect arc from the main campus.

An array of cameras mounted along the rear of C14 caught the slightest movement within the arc. Halliday realized yet another flaw in the security plan. With the excessive amount of cameras on campus Genevive must employ an army of security eyes glued on video screens. He had experienced the difficulty of watching a police monitor as suspect after suspect passed in front of his eyes. After two hours, they could have thrown in Donald Duck’s mug shot. He might not have noticed.

A squirrel posed atop one of the cameras. Halliday assumed they weren’t using motion detectors out here for the same reason they hadn’t deployed them along the perimeter fence.

C14’s blackened windows were a harbinger of secrecy. When Halliday peeked into one, he saw the outline of his face. He backed off with the crowbar. Something told him that these windows weren’t really windows.

Using the bushy shrubs for cover he crawled toward the front of C14. A short distance away, the perimeter fence looked inviting. The concertina wire would be difficult to overcome without wire cutters.

Halliday concentrated on the job of dodging more spy cameras. He saw one hanging off the branch of a tree. He maneuvered behind it, ripping the wires out of the rear of the camera. One malfunctioning camera wouldn’t result in a security alert. Squirrels must mess with them all the time.

He continued to the front corner of the building. Unable to see around the corner to the entrance he would have to take a chance. A security team might already be on its way.

Halliday peered around the corner to the entrance, inset into the building five yards away. There were no shrubs here to cover him. Two cameras were trained on the entrance. He glanced at his watch, 12:30
p.m.

Thirty minutes late. Was Laurel already inside?

A security booth at the top of the marble steps led into the building. He had seen the other entry, an emergency rear ‘vault door,’ earlier. It looked impenetrable.

What had Palmier meant when he told Altman to
lock down
building C14? In Halliday’s experience lock down meant to keep people inside a building, such as a prison. In this case, since all the scientists were attending Brad Palmier’s emergency meeting, lock down must simply mean preventing entry and exit.

Halliday assumed that security manned the entry station 24/7. Unless lock down meant the whole place stood vacant. He’d find out soon enough.

He reached for his Glock. “Dammit.” He had no weapon. His throbbing head caused him to lean into the wall on his knees.

The security monitor would have more difficulty identifying him if he took slow steps. The eyes were drawn to rapid movements. That shouldn’t be a problem given his physical state. He pulled himself up using the thick branch of a shrub. Out of options, he prepared to approach the front entrance.

As he stood, he saw Altman headed in his direction. He dove back into the bushes.

The security man had just exited C14.

When Altman didn’t find Halliday at the security annex he would sound the general alarm. The place would be crawling with security very soon.

Halliday waited until the big security man entered an area between the surveillance cameras’ eyes.

Altman loped past him with the gait of a giraffe.

Halliday sprung up and rushed at him.

Altman’s peripheral vision detected him. The big man pivoted too late to avoid him.

Halliday swung the crowbar in a sweeping arc targeted at Altman’s knees.

The big man buckled. Momentum carried him head first into the sidewalk.

With effort Halliday dragged the unconscious man into the shrubbery. Altman had a pulse. The nasty gash on his forehead would be a lifelong reminder of this day. Halliday slapped duct tape over Altman’s mouth then hogtied the man’s hands and legs. Altman’s weapon along with the two-way would be helpful. He ripped the ID off his neck.

The odds were more in his favor. The clock ticked away, though. Halliday prepared to approach the entrance of building C14.

He checked Altman’s semiautomatic weapon then stuffed it in his trousers. The direct approach would leave him open to the security force’s view. He had no other option.

With far too many reservations, Halliday took a deep breath. He’d try to pass himself off as a visiting scientist.

Yeah, right.

A force jerked Halliday backwards.

The haunting voice cooed, “John, I’m sorry…. The transparency pool… I lost track of time.”

A druggie’s answer. “Laurel, there’s no need to explain. We need to get inside C14
now
.”

“Today is October 31
st
.”

He caught the exhilaration in her voice. She remained under the influence of the pool. He said it anyway, “Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you, detective.”

“The head security honcho George Altman is tied up in the bushes over there. Palmier may be organizing a posse right now.”

“How can I help?”

“I have an idea to get past the gate. I need to know the security man’s name,” he said. “Go look through the window. Try to make out the name on his badge.”

“I’ll be back in a sec.”

He thought of asking Laurel to use Palmier’s card to gain entrance. The guard would panic when he saw the door magically open. Halliday doubted he could neutralize the guard before he called security.

He saw indentations in the grass coming his way.

“His name is Blake,” she said. “He’s alone.”

Halliday pulled out the two-way radio. Altman’s voice belonged to a disturbed late night ‘Bama DJ at an FM station. He barked out, “Blake, this is Altman, over.”

“Roger, this is Blake, go ahead.”

“I’m outside C14 on the sidewalk. I hurt my leg.” Halliday reached deeper and said, “Get out here and give me a hand.”

“Boss, you know I can’t leave the building.”

“I can’t walk, Blake. Now get your ass out here.”

“Yes, sir.”

“George this is Brad, over. Go to channel six.”

Shit. He rotated the channel selector. “Roger, go ahead.”

“Do you need medical assistance, George?”

“No, I tripped, screwed up my ankle. I’ll be all right.”

A pause lingered before Palmier said, “Do your personnel stuff on channel six, not the Admin channel.”

“Sorry, I just forgot.”

“The meeting will be over in another twenty minutes or so. Visit the infirmary if need be. Meet me back at the security annex when you’re able.”

“Roger,” Halliday said. He stuffed the two-way in his pocket. “Laurel, trip him up when he comes by.”

“I’m ready.”

He waited with the crowbar in hand at the edge of the wall. Heavy solenoid motors in the entrance door made a grating noise.

Seconds mounted in silence. The security guy named Blake called out, “Mr. Altman, where are you?”

Halliday made no reply.

“If this is a security check then I’m in a world of shit,” Blake muttered.

Halliday heard the powerful solenoids engage closing the door.

Blake’s shoes pattered down the short concrete steps. They picked up speed on the walkway.

The wiry security man appeared to trip over his own feet. Halliday wrestled him to the ground. He removed the man’s two-way radio from his belt holder. When the guy shouted, he had no choice. He whack him aside the head with the weapon.

Contrary to movie lore it’s not easy to make a person lose consciousness. They can be neutralized by fear. John gave the guard a swift kick in the kidney area. The guy cried out. Halliday barked, “Shut up Blake or you’re history.”

The security man lay quiet in the prone position. Halliday used the duct tape to wrap the man’s shaking hands. Then he wrapped the legs. A short rip covered the man’s mouth.

“Let’s go,” Laurel said.

First, Halliday dragged the man behind a different set of bushes. He offered Blake’s two-way to Laurel. She made it disappear. Then he removed Blake’s beeper device that would gain them entrance to C14. If security cameras had witnessed their struggle, an alert monitor would call in the troops.

“We’d better hurry,” he said.

The security man’s beeper activated the door.

The security room resembled the cockpit of a Boeing 747. On the wall were various flat screen monitors. It appeared Genevive’s video monitoring systems might be autonomous. In this case, only the security man Blake monitored the area around C14. A major security ding.

Below the panel a ribbon of glass allowed the security man a view of the entrance. An instrument panel jutted out on an angled plinth. It contained rows of lights and switches.

At the top he saw a red lit switch labeled “System Alarm Override.” He removed the cover. When he flipped the toggle switch, a message warned, LEVEL FIVE AUTHORIZATION REQUIRED. He touched the security man’s badge. A recorded voice said, “You do not have authorization.” Then he touched Palmier’s badge to the screen.

The switch light shone green. The panel ejected a remote control device. Halliday grabbed it and said to Laurel, “This might be our ticket out of here.”

“Good thinking detective.”

Halliday swiped Palmier’s badge across the touch pad to gain entry into the first floor of the lab. Solenoids again churned.

The safe-sized door opened inward with Omega watch precision. The hissing noise belonged to a much smaller door.

The white room appeared to be a sterilization chamber. It consisted of a series of polished steel stations designed to bathe and sanitize the scientists before entering the main lab. The stations reminded him of the imaging “millimeter” stalls that passenger stood in during airport security. Except here the scientist stood in the chamber while the shower hovered around them.

“Brad mentioned that building C-14’s clean room surpassed any biotech facility in the world.”

He knew “clean room” referred to the lab itself. “Did he ever bring you in here?”

“No way.”

He proceeded through the maze. Robotic shower heads hovered, seeming to follow movement on their own accord. Instead of spewing water these radiated an invisible ray of some sort. Halliday hurried along when they headed in his direction.

“I wouldn’t let one of those things have their way with my body,” Laurel said behind him, with a skittish edge to her voice.

The next chamber featured a slow speed runway. Halliday jumped onto the conveyor that transported him through an opening into another white room. Bright robotic lamps hovered near the ceiling to dry and sanitize the scientists’ bodies.

Halliday made the mistake of standing still. A robot in the ceiling descended on him. Poof, a shot of disinfectant powder exploded in his face. It caused him to sneeze.

When another robot arm dove for him he muttered, “Stop that.” Halliday whacked it with the crowbar. The limp arm withdrew.

Laurel’s nervous cackle was unmistakable.

“We’d better get going,” Halliday said. He felt the intensity would burn his skin if he stayed still. Red lights flashed. Robot arms gathered near the ceiling for a final onslaught. Unlike the
Invisible Man
movies, the white powder didn’t reveal Laurel.

They hurried into the chamber where robots outfitted the scientists in thin white futuristic space suits that belonged on Jupiter and Mars. All along the way warnings nagged Halliday about what not to do, which he ignored. The override switch had disabled all the audible alarms. He wondered if the remote system still reported alarms to a Genevive security command center somewhere.

Halliday swiped Palmier’s badge. Another set of solenoids whirred. This lab door opened from the top down, emulating the flying saucer in the sci-fi classic,
The Day the Earth Stood Still
. The ramp matched up to a platform. A final burst of powder zapped him as they traveled down the ramp into the lab.

The first floor lab interior reminded him of the sci-fi movie,
E.T.
A network of tall see-through plastic tubes interconnected throughout the large floor. In the opposite corner two huge white cylinders extended up through the ceiling. Large red letters warned DANGER—FLAMMABLE. The walls contained a continuous array of honeycomb shapes.

Nosy sensors peeked out from the cylinder ceiling.

“Are you with me, Laurel?”

“I’m right behind you.”

It comforted him to hear caution, not fear, in her voice. As they progressed, red alarm lights in the ceiling lit up. Again, there were no audible alarms.

“This floor houses the peons, the scientists with a lower security clearance,” Laurel said. “Their dream is to get promoted to the second floor. Brad never spoke of the third floor other than to say it’s where Dr. Krabbi’s wizards perform their magic.”

She didn’t know about Krabbi’s fatal car accident.

He stepped up the pace, wondering about all the gadgetry. Laurel’s “Wows,” proved that the scientific gadgetry awed her, too. The constant clicks of the lens from her tiny digital camera were the only sound on the floor.

A stainless steel fire extinguisher system hung on the wall. A water hose coiled around a wheel installed inside the wall. The remnant of the “Hook and Ladder” days appeared out of place in the sci-fi setting.

The tubular walkways terminated into several igloo shaped chambers complete with work stations. Each office had a dozen or more small tubes arranged in neat rows that exited the ceiling. They terminated next to a high tech combination microscope and computer station. Loads of electronic gear were stacked high in each igloo. One module resembled a space age microwave oven

“The peons perform experiments requested by the second floor,” Laurel said. “The scientists here never know the results of their experiments. Samples travel in and out through the small tubes. The computers are used as databases. No Google connection. I heard Brad say that the peons aren’t allowed to talk to each other unless someone from the second floor is present. If they screw up, they pay a visit to Genevive Security Chief George Altman, purveyor of pain.”

“What a charming work environment.”

“They have six-figure salaries.”

That explained it. “What are the refrigerators for?” he said, while opening a door. He gasped. “We need photos of this.”

The camera shutter began clicking at the dead animal parts inside.

“It doesn’t appear they’re on track to your transparency.”

“You won’t see evidence until we go upstairs. Look at that.”

The photo of a smiling scientist with his wife and daughter at Disneyland sat on the counter.

He kicked the refrigerator door shut. They left the cubicle.

Halliday headed back down the main tubular hallway. Behind, Laurel said, “What’s that?”

A broad ramp sealed by a roll-up door descended into a lower level. A touchtone lock secured it.

“I’m betting that’s their menagerie, where they keep the live animals,” he said. “Come on, we need to investigate the other floors.”

They took a ride to the second floor on a short escalator constructed of clear plastic material. White or clear color dominated the lab.

“It’s freezing in here,” Laurel said.

“Ideal for cold-blooded scientists.” He wondered if the cold had any effect on her transparency. He thought it should be the opposite.

Palmier’s badge gave them license to move on.

The second floor contained private offices and a conference room. Halliday spit on the grated floor. A bluish light honed in on it, beaming its displeasure. A laser beamed scanned across his chest, searching for data. The scientists must have their I.D.’s sewn in their space suits.

They arrived at a large central room that housed rows of rack-mounted computer hardware. Several small stations accessed the computer mainframe.

“Genevive’s main database,” Laurel said. “Doctor Krabbi and his scientists use it to perform computer modeling.”

Halliday felt they were running out of time. “Let’s head to the third floor.”

They took a similar escalator up. It terminated at another vaulted door labeled LEVEL 5 PERSONNEL ONLY. He swiped Palmier’s card across the reader.

Halliday had an eerie feeling as they waited for the door to reveal the innermost secrets of building C14.