Biowar

39

Lia slipped out the bathroom window onto the hard macadam and edged toward the comer. There were only two guards left at the facility. One had gone to the front of the building. The other had taken up a post at the rear, where he could watch the trailers. Less than ten yards separated her from this second man; she could pivot around the comer and empty her pistol into his chest before he had a chance to react. But that wasn’t the gig.

“Go with the voice,” Lia told the Art Room.

“Kommen,” muttered a voice from inside the hall. Though somewhat clipped — it had been extracted from a longer sentence — the word was in the other guard’s voice, which the Art Room had recorded and was now replaying through a small speaker Lia had left hidden in the rest room wastebasket.

Thinking he was wanted, the man began walking nonchalantly toward where he thought his companion had called him from — the side of the building where Lia was crouched.

“Try it again,” she said, watching on the handheld.

The Art Room replayed the voice, this time adding a snippet that seemed to indicate the guard was inside one of the rooms. The man changed direction.

“Had you worried there, huh?” asked Rockman as Lia trotted toward the trailers, the coast finally clear.

“You’re lucky they didn’t use their walkie-talkies.”

“We’re jamming them.”

“And you don’t think that would make them suspicious, huh?”

“Relax. They obviously don’t think they’re doing anything important. They’ll be throwing back beers in a minute.”

Lia reached the rear of the first trailer. Rather than using the door, she went to the back and climbed on top, moving quickly to a vent panel. She fished into her knapsack and removed a power screwdriver, diddling with the attachments to get the right hex head.

“Coming back outside,” warned Rockman.

Lia lay down next to the vent and began unscrewing the screws by hand.

“Walking around, walking around,” warned Rockman. He was watching a feed from the Eyes asset, which had been taken off the team trailing Dean because of the helicopters.

The first two screws were easy, but the next one seemed frozen in place. She pushed against it and almost lost the driver. Reluctantly, she moved to the next. This, too, was jammed.

“Going into the other trailer,” said Rockman. “You can use the driver.”

Lia got on her knees and switched the driver on. But its torque couldn’t budge the two screws that had stuck. She got the rest off and then went back to them without any luck. Nor would the vent lift off completely with them in place.

“Going to have to drill them,” she said.

“Do it,” said Rockman.

By the time she had the new bit in, the guard was coming out of the other trailer. She waited, expecting him to come over to this one. But instead he went back to the post at the back of the building. He couldn’t see the top of the trailer from where he was, but she couldn’t get inside, either. All Lia could do was wait.

And wait.

Finally, the other guard came around the back to share a cigarette. The two men began talking.

“What are they saying?” Lia whispered.

“You don’t want to know,” said Rockman.

“What is it?”

“Uh, basically about porking girls. Except cruder than that.”

“Cruder?”

“Lia, don’t do anything rash,” warned Rubens.

“What’s your definition of rash?”

“Heads up,” warned Rockman.

The two guards were walking toward the trailer. They continued to the back, right below where Lia was lying, and unzipped to relieve themselves.

The temptation to whack them now was almost too much to resist. But Lia managed, and eventually the two men began laughing and zipped up.

“They’re going up front to check the perimeter,” said Rockman as they walked away. “All right, go with the drill.”

“What were they laughing about?”

“Uh, you really wouldn’t want to know,” said Rockman.

Lia once more regretted not taking them out. She drilled through one of the screws, then found she could wing the vent cover around. She slid in through the opening, standing on a large freezer-type machine as she pulled the vent back in place.

The interior was pitch-black. Lia pulled on her night-vision glasses, adjusting to the limited perspective. She was in a room about eight feet square. Most of the space was taken up by freezers, which had combination locks on them. Lia left them for later, going into the next room. This was set up as a lab, with three large microscopes attached to a set of computers. She found a USB port and plugged in a dongle.

“Don’t fire them up just yet,” said Telach. “Let’s decide first what we have here.”

“Looks like a college bio lab to me,” said Lia. She went ahead to the next room, which was a small lounge area. Beyond it was another lab, this one with a variety of equipment, ranging from microscopes to refrigerator units.

“Is there a DNA sequencer?” asked Telach.

“You tell me.”

She put a cam on the handheld and set it on top of the bench, feeding the video back home. While the Art Room was sorting out the gear, Lia bent to one of the refrigerators, looking to open it.

“No, let’s not get inside that,” said Rubens. “You’re not adequately prepared yet.”

“It’s about time you started worrying about my health,” said Lia.

She moved over to a set of workstations. Both were on and attached to uninterruptible power supplies. Neither had outside drives or cable hookups, though there were ports in the back. The Art Room debated briefly on how to proceed, then directed Lia to the USB ports. A few seconds after she connected the first dongle, she heard Rockman cursing in her ear.

“This part of the operation is sophisticated at least,” said Rockman. “Wiped itself clean. Leave the other workstation.”

“You can’t figure out a way to get around it?” Lia asked.

“We’re going to rethink this. Get out of the trailer,” said Telach. “Go over to the next trailer and let’s get into their computers.”

“So this was all a waste?”

“Call it a gamble that has not yet paid off,” said Rubens.

“Whatever,” said Lia, wishing she had trusted herself earlier and saved Charlie when she had the chance.