David Koepp - Cold Storage

Griffin shouted at the door. “Ironhead! You got my key! You got my key, shithead!”

From inside the locker, there were sounds of a struggle and a body slammed up against the door, hard. Griffin stumbled back. Something else hit the door, something heavy, maybe another body, and the door dented outward. The struggle seemed to intensify, the shouting and screaming accompanied by unfamiliar sounds now: a low gurgle, a wet slap, the sound of a Samsung Premium Ultra 4K smashing into a million tiny pieces.

And then it went quiet.

Griffin and Dr. Friedman just stared at the door for a long moment.

“Ironhead?” Griffin asked, sotto voce.

There was no answer.

“Cedric?”

Nothing.

But then the door lifted an inch. A shadow moved inside. And with the soft scrape of metal on cement, a key slid out from inside.

Ironhead’s voice came from the other side, calm now. “Griffin?”

Griffin didn’t answer.

“You there? Griffin?”

Griffin picked up the key. He looked at Dr. Friedman.

Ironhead’s voice came from the other side of the door again, a low chuckle. “All’s cool, man. Just got a little hairy there for a second.”

They didn’t answer.

“Hello? Griffin?”

Griffin hesitated.

“You there?”

Griffin and Dr. Friedman just looked at each other, no idea what to do.

Ironhead spoke again. “Griffin? Griff? ”

Griffin turned back to the door. He had waited thirty-one years for someone to use his self-chosen nickname. Hearing it was a balm on his soul.

He put the key in the lock.

Roberto answered the phone on the first ring. “I’m a minute and a half out.”

Abigail replied, puzzled. “I had you there six minutes ago.”

“Bit of a snag. I worked it out. I’m just west of the Missouri River and about to make the turn onto White Clay Road. What have you got?”

“I got a hold of Stephanie.”

“And?”

“The name of the guy at ADF-E is Ozgur Onder. He’s not on duty right now.”

“Shit.”

But Abigail wasn’t done. “Better than that. He’s in bed with her, at her place. And he can redirect a KH-11 from his laptop.”

Roberto closed his eyes and promised God that if this worked out, he would never take His name in vain again. “God damn !” You know, after tonight. “That’s great. Will he do it?”

“He’s not happy, but he’s doing it. Apparently, it’s something he’s done before, to impress her. On their third date, he grabbed video of them in front of her house, waving up at the sky.”

“Our national security is in good hands. I hope he got laid.”

“It would seem.”

Roberto slowed, his headlights revealing the entrance to a long gravel driveway through a break in the tree line up ahead. “Do we have visual yet?”

“Yes. Nine minutes left of a look-down before we lose orbital view and control passes off to Canberra.”

“Anybody leave the place?”

“One, a little over a minute ago. A woman, late sixties, driving a late-model Subaru Outback. Do you want the license number?”

“If she was able to drive a car, I’m not worried about her. Let it go. Anybody on foot, I need to know immediately.” He turned into the driveway and approached the crest of a hill. He could see the lights of the storage facility glowing just over the rise. He slowed. “I’m pulling into the driveway now. You have Ozgur live?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Stay with him. Anything you know, I need to know, when you know it.” He reached up to his earpiece to end the call, but then had another thought. “Hey, Abigail?”

“Yes, sir?”

“You know what I have to do, right?”

“Yes, I do, sir.”

“You’re okay with that?”

She paused. “I read the white paper, sir.”

There were good, smart young people out there. Roberto hoped they’d get to stick around to be good old people. It wasn’t so bad, being old. As long as you were with the right person. But better not to think of Annie right now. Don’t tug on that thread, the whole sweater’ll come apart and you won’t do what needs to be done.

“Tell me quick what you found out about the people inside,” he said. Abigail told him what she knew, he made mental notes of what he could remember, and wrapped it up.

“I’ll have to use my cell. That means Jerabek will know I’m here and he might get curious. Watch your back.”

“I always do, sir.”

Roberto hung up. Over the crest of the rise now, he saw the front entrance of the storage place, sticking out from the hillside like a fat lip. Up at the top of the hill, just to his right, he saw a car pulled over at the side of the drive, its trunk hanging open. Not a good sign. In its trunk he thought he detected a slight phosphorescent glow, and traces of more of it scattered out on the hillside behind it. It was faint, damn faint, and he could have easily been wrong about it, but he had a feeling he wasn’t.

Down at the bottom of the drive, a Honda Civic and half a dozen Harleys were parked in front of the main entrance. He turned off his headlights and pulled to a stop a hundred feet short of them. He was halfway between the entrance and the car with the open trunk.

He took a breath, let it out slowly, and got out of the van.

Teacake and Naomi banged through the broken side door of the building, took a sharp right turn, and ran toward the parking lot. “My car’s right here!” Teacake shouted. Naomi could hear his voice, just barely, over the ringing sound in her right ear, but her left ear was still dead. They raced along the side of the building, triggering the motion-detector lights all along the upper part of the wall as they ran. They came around the front, past the Harleys, and were just reaching Teacake’s Honda when a halogen beam flicked on and a commanding voice shouted from fifty feet away.

“STOP.”

The order was clear, and the voice was the kind you don’t argue with, so without even thinking about it, they stopped. They turned toward it, raising their hands in the air.

The flashlight beam was brilliant, piercing, and they both winced, blind to whoever was behind it. There was another light coming from the same spot, and this one was a sharp red beam. Teacake looked down and saw the laser dot right over his heart. As he watched, it flicked over to Naomi and centered up on her chest.

Shoes crunched on gravel as the figure walked toward them, cautious. As the man drew closer and came into the light, he slipped the flashlight into his belt but still held the gun on them. He had a pair of green, owl-like goggles on his head, but not down over his eyes. He was holding an M16 with a laser scope.

Naomi spoke first. It came out more of a shout, as she could barely hear herself. “Roberto?”

Roberto stopped. “Naomi?”

Teacake wiped more blood from his dripping, injured ear. “Do you mind ?” he said, gesturing down at his chest, where the red dot had recentered itself over his heart. “I’ve had about enough of fucking guns pointed at me, okay, fucker?!”

Roberto lowered the rifle. “And you must be the other guy.”

Teacake looked around the parking area, the driveway, the hillside. “Where’s the rest of your crew, man?”

Roberto took a moment. “I’m it.”

“You’re it ?” Naomi shouted.

Roberto looked at Teacake. “Why is she shouting?”

“Gunshots. A .45, next to her ear. I think she can hear a little bit in the right.”

Roberto looked at the building. “Who’s got a gun in there?”

“So far, everybody but us.”

Roberto nodded and hoped Trini still knew how to pack.