Brett Battles - Exit 9

The boxes were similar to deposit boxes in a bank. Each contained printed-out, detailed instructions to be used in specific situations. They were the hardcopy backups in case something happened to the computer system after Implementation Day. Another redundancy in the Project’s desire to make sure nothing went off track when they set about rebuilding the world in the way they knew it should be. Every depot had a set of the boxes in its vault.

That someone had purposely broken into NB328 to get to them was unbelievable. The only people who knew about the boxes or the vaults were members of the Project, or at least that’s what he had thought.

This was a serious breach. They had to find out who had done this and why.

“Which boxes were taken?” the DOP asked.

“J923 and T121.”

The DOP brought up the vault database and typed both numbers in. J923 contained the list of all the other depots, and T121 a list of all the primary members of the Project. Both were disturbing, the second considerably more than the first.

“Go over every square inch of that facility,” he ordered. “There has got to be some clue as to who these people are.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And make it quick. I don’t want this becoming a problem.”

For several seconds, the DOP stared out the windowed wall into the Cradle.

It’s them , he thought. The ones who had been an annoyance to the Project for years.

Somehow they had found out about the vaults and the information they contained. He knew they’d been in one of the facilities before-NB7 in eastern Oregon. But every piece of security footage from that night had been reviewed, and neither Captain Ash nor the woman who’d been with him when he rescued his kids had gone anywhere near NB7’s vault.

He picked up the phone again and called Ross. His first instructions were to assign extra protection to people on the list from box T121, and to put the depot security teams on high alert. Then he said, “Operation Pest Control is a go.”

There was a pause, then, “Yes, sir. But…”

“But what, Major?”

“These added measures are going to stretch us pretty thin. If you want Operation Pest Control to happen right away also, we’ll need to sacrifice in other areas.”

The DOP closed his eyes and stifled a groan of frustration. “As soon as feasible, then,” he ordered, and slammed the phone down.

Perez had been in error. Boxes J923 and T121 were not the only two that had been removed. In fact, the two boxes were of no importance at all to Olivia.

“These are the two we want to break into,” Olivia had instructed, indicating boxes J923 and T121. They would be the smokescreen, specifically chosen to throw her former employers off and force them to allot manpower away from what she was focused on. She then pointed at a box near the bottom: G306. “This one we use the master key on.”

Once they had the door to G306 open, Olivia removed the single sheet of paper from inside, slid the box back in place, and shut the door. She carefully folded the paper and put it in her pocket. No one would ever suspect the box had even been opened.

This was the only reason they had come to NB328.

I.D. MINUS 88 HOURS

ST. LOUIS, MISSOURI

“There’s nothing here,” Blanton said.

Corey looked at his friend. “What do you mean, nothing?”

They were sitting in a booth at Old Tom’s Pub just off campus, Blanton’s laptop on the table. On the screen was the home page for Hidde-Kel Holdings.

“It’s just a bunch of corporate BS that doesn’t lead anywhere. It’s not tied to their company computer system at all. It’s just sitting on its own server all by itself.”

“All by itself?”

Blanton nodded. “Nothing else on that server at all. I’ve triple-checked.”

Corey wasn’t the computer expert that Blanton was, but like most kids his age, he had a basic understanding of how it all worked. “You can’t get into their internal systems from there?”

Blanton looked around. “Hey, hold it down. I’d rather not have a lot of people know about this, okay?”

“Sorry.” It was early evening, and the place was starting to fill up. “So you can’t get through?”

“Uh-uh. As far as I can tell, there’s no tie between them.”

“Dammit. I was really hoping you could get in that way.”

“Well, I can’t.” Blanton paused. “Not this way.”

Corey cocked his head. “There’s another?”

A smirk grew on his friend’s face. “This is like a challenge, you know?”

“Blanton, just tell me. Is there another way you can get me more information about them?”

“Of course there is.” Blanton began typing. “I was able to locate some of their business filings that had addresses on their main facilities. I should say, facili ty . Seems they only have one address.”

“You mean the one in Portland? That’s just a mail drop.”

“I don’t mean the one in Portland. I mean the one in Chicago.”

“Chicago? What address in Chicago? I didn’t find anything.”

“That’s because you’re not me.” Blanton hit one more key. A map of Chicago appeared on the screen with a red dot glowing northwest of downtown, right next to O’Hare Airport.

“That’s it?”

Instead of answering, Blanton zoomed in. The dot turned out to be in an industrial area tucked in the southeast corner between I-90 and I-294. The building itself was probably about ten thousand square feet, and, at least when the satellite photo was taken, had a nearly empty parking lot.

“The whole building is theirs?”

“Yep.”

“And you were able to get into their computer system?”

“Well, see, that’s the challenge. I know they have something inside. I could figure out that much. Couldn’t hack in, though. The only way to do that is if I got in close and tapped into their local signal.”

“You mean actually go up there.”

“Well, yeah.”

Blanton sounded like it had been more of an intellectual exercise than anything else, but the idea appealed to Corey. Chicago was only about five hours away by car. They could be there around midnight.

“We’ll take my car.”

Blanton had raised his glass of beer to his mouth. “Uh, excuse me?”

“Better if I drive. I’ve only had a sip. That’s your second.”

“Drive where?”

“Chicago.”

“I’m not going to Chicago.”

“Come on, Blanton. Didn’t you say this was a challenge? Don’t you want to follow that through?”

“Dude, I have class tomorrow.”

“Uh, no, you don’t. Tomorrow’s Sunday.”

“Okay, not really a class, but a study group.”

“Since when do you join study groups?”

“What?” Blanton said. “I can join a study group if I want.”

Corey suddenly realized the truth. “What’s her name?”

“Whose name?”

“The girl in your study group.”

Blanton blushed but shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Never mind. What time does it start?”

“Three.”

“In the afternoon?”

“Well, yeah. It’s not in the morning.”

“We’ll be back in plenty of time.”

“I’m not going to Chicago.”

“Who’s going to Chicago?” Jeannie asked as she walked up.

Corey scooted over so she could join them. “Blanton and I.”

“Oh, no. I’m not going.”

Jeannie looked at her boyfriend. “When?”

“As soon as I can get no-boy here out the door.”

“You’re going to Chicago tonight? Why do you want to do that?”

Corey explained about the building Blanton had found.