Cliff Ryder - Out of Time

She crossed to the printer and gathered up the pile of printouts she’d created. It was time to take what she’d discovered to Rand. He wouldn’t believe her, of course, not at first. He’d say she was just being difficult, and he might order something to be done to Alex. It didn’t matter. In the end, Rand had a degree in biochemistry himself, though his skills had grown decidedly rusty since he planted himself in the director’s seat. He would see that the research she’d brought him was accurate, and he would know the truth. It probably wouldn’t stop him from going through with his plans, but that was why Brin was taking no chances. By the time he got someone in to double-check what she’d been doing, the samples would be destroyed.

She just needed to find a way out before her own actions were discovered. If she didn’t manage that, she knew she was living her last day on Earth, and that the same was true of Alex. She prayed that Karen would understand when neither of them showed up to claim Savannah that it was time to hit the road.

Brin nearly teared up thinking about it. She knew she might never see her family or her friends again. She wanted to scream. She wanted to slam things around and smash things until there was nothing left to smash.

She wanted Alex.

With a deep breath she turned to the door and entered the number for the cipher lock. She didn’t know if the men who’d come to set up the lock somehow knew what she’d entered for her private code, but from what she’d seen and heard she thought they didn’t. Even if Rand had it, without her thumbprint, he couldn’t get into the lab once it was locked down, and she had no intention of keying it in for him or providing her thumb without putting up a fight. He might force it out of her over time, but she didn’t need that much time. On her way out she stepped close to the wall and once again managed to brush the temperature control.

There was no time to look to see precisely where she’d set it, but she knew she’d raised the temperature. It would set off alarms eventually, but no one would be able to get in to change it. They’d have to break down the door to get in, and by then it probably wouldn’t matter.

The materials in the canister on her bench were delicate. One of the reasons she’d been chosen was her attention to detail, and they’d counted on her to preserve their samples and their research.

They’d set up an immaculate lab with only one flaw. She didn’t want to play their game anymore.

She closed the door behind herself and heard the satisfying metallic thunk of the locks sliding into place. She made a show for the security cameras, straightening out her printouts and staring at one of them for a moment as she steadied her nerves.

Then she stepped into the hall and started for the elevator for what she knew would be the last time.

She had one chance to convince Rand he was crazy, and just enough time, she hoped, to make sure that, crazy or not, it wouldn’t matter. They’d still have the research and the data, but it would take time to rebuild their project. She only hoped they hadn’t sent it to one of the other research centers MRIS had around the globe.

The building was empty and when the elevator ground to a halt on her floor, the sound echoed ominously. She knew that somewhere in the building there was a security patrol, but she was equally sure that now, at night, with only the two of them in the complex, Rand would have his handpicked men on duty. She’d seen a few of them mixed in with the regular security guards, more as the days passed. Their uniforms were more military in style than the others, and they moved a lot like Alex did, now that she thought about it.

Whatever was going on, they weren’t taking chances on anyone catching on. It wouldn’t be long before the staff of the building had been replaced with faces Brin had never seen.

She was glad her own people were gone for the day. She’d wanted to warn them, to find a way to keep them away from the complex, but there was no way to communicate directly from the private lab, and any conversation had to be considered to have been recorded. She didn’t know what or whom to trust anymore. She didn’t feel safe speaking to anyone or doing anything as long as she was inside the MRIS complex.

The elevator halted on the top floor and she stepped into the empty hall. The lights were dim.

The only illumination came from the open door of Rand’s outer office. Brin squared her shoulders and checked her watch. She knew the climate control in the labs was set to stabilize in less than an hour, and she’d already been out for fifteen minutes. With the lid to the sample case left open, the damage had already begun.

Her footsteps echoed in the empty hall. She knew Rand would hear her coming. He should hear her, anyway, but he’d been distracted recently, and he was used to having Elaine in the outer office to catch what he didn’t have time to pay attention to.

Brin stopped in the doorway and peered around the corner. The outer office was empty. A single desk light illuminated Elaine’s desktop, which was bare and clean. Too clean. Had he gotten rid of her, too? Were there too many secrets floating around the office to for an efficient secretary? Brin hoped, suddenly, that Elaine had just been let go, or that she was taking vacation time. She hoped Rand hadn’t accidentally left data lying on his desk or an e-mail on screen from someone that could raise curiosity.

The hairs on the back of Brin’s neck rose. Everything was moving too fast. It didn’t make any sense. They had her under control, or at least they believed that they did. They had shown her Alex, so if there had been an attempt on the Chinese facility, that had failed, as well. The research they’d brought her to complete hadn’t come with a short timeline, but Rand had shortened it anyway.

Had something gone wrong with their plan?

Brin stepped through Elaine’s office and stood in the doorway leading to Rand’s inner chamber.

He sat in his big leather chair, staring out the window into the darkness. It was a moonless night.

All that was visible was a solid wall of darkness, and pinpoints of fuzzy light from below. She stood and watched the back of his head for a moment.

She had the eerie impression that he was dead, that it had become a scene from a very bad movie and that she’d walk around in front of him to find his chin on his chest and blood leaking from the corners of his mouth. Then he spoke.

“I hope you have good news for me, Brin,” he said softly. “I hope for your sake, for my sake, for everyone’s sake, that you have good news.”

She considered lying. None of it mattered anymore, but it might placate him for a few moments. Then she shook off the last of her fear and stepped into the room. She remembered an old quote and almost smiled. She whispered it to herself for strength. “When you’re on thin ice, you might as well dance.”

“I’m afraid I don’t, Hershel,” she said. She dropped the file folder onto his desk, not waiting for him to turn around. “Not good at all, really, though I suppose it’s all relative in the world of biochemical warfare and terrorism, don’t you think?”

He spun to face her and she had to fight the urge to take a quick step back. His eyes were sunken pits. His mouth was a flat, emotionless slit across a pale, too-thin face. He looked as if he hadn’t eaten or slept in days. Where he clutched the arms of his chair, his knuckles were white.

He glanced down at the folder on the desktop, but he didn’t move to open it or look at the contents.

“What the hell is it?” he asked.

“The results of the research you asked for,” Brin answered calmly. “You wanted your nanoagents tested and I tested them. I even ran some extras, if you find the time to check the results. They don’t work.”