John O'Brien - Reckoning

Satisfied that no one dropped their lucky charm, I remove several items from my pack, don it, and drop to the floor next to the wall. The lights are angled so that I’ll be fine with my shadow if I stay near the door and wall. I lean the ladder against the conduit and mentally place its position in my mind so I don’t accidentally bump it and tip it over. Overlooking small details like that have been known to ruin many a day.

The door on the bottom is sealed too tightly, so I don’t bother trying to put a fiber cam under it. It’s apparent that there is a reaction team that will respond and I’ll have to work quickly. And, although not alarmed, the security room personnel will now be more watchful. I remove a two-inch strip of magnesium and place it between the door and the jamb where the magnetic lock is.

Looking between the gap, I don’t see any magnetic sensors. The mag lock itself will notify anyone that the door has been opened, but there’s no way to avoid it if I want to get through. Digging into my fatigue pocket, I take out a flame torch. This is different than a lighter as the flame is barely visible and doesn’t cast any light. If I used a regular lighter or a match, the flare might cast a higher level of light and be seen in the camera. Lighting the magnesium strip, I place a ceramic coffee cup over it to cover the flare of light caused by the intense heat. If this were an inward opening door, the flare would be seen from the inside but the door stop prevents any light from leaking to the other side.

The strip burns quickly and I remove the cup stashing it in a pocket along with the lighter. The door still has some resistance but I yank it open and, grabbing the ladder, slide through. Quickly placing the ladder against the conduit on the other side, I take a rag sprayed with a diluted lemon juice mixture and wipe the walls, door jamb, lock mechanism, and door, to remove any char marks that the magnesium made. I then close the door and scale the ladder quickly, pulling it up with me. Taking a small spray bottle with diluted lemon-scented room deodorizer, I give a light spray like I was Febrezing the living room to remove any lingering burn smell.

I know it won’t be long until the reaction team shows up and I push myself a few yards down the conduits before coming to a stop. Almost level with me, florescent light fixtures hang from the concrete ceiling and extend down the inner hall. This hallway is long, being made to provide an escape tunnel that exits far away from the main facility, and the lights extend beyond my line of sight. Although they illuminate their immediate vicinity, they are spaced far enough apart that the corridor is cast in an overall gloom. I look to the top of the door I just entered and verify there isn’t a camera placed there. If I can manage to elude the guards who are surely going to show up, I will be inside the main facility. Not close to being where I need to go, but at least inside.

Without the door and walls blocking the way, and the fact that there is little to absorb any sound, I hear the response team approaching from a distance. Their boots ring on the concrete surface and, this time, there is no conversation. This is the second time they’ve been called out to the same location, so they are wary.

I can’t see them as I am pressed as flat as I can be between two conduits that are closest to the wall. I can tell they are more alert by the difference in their footsteps and by the lack of chatter that they previously exhibited. They aren’t trying to be quiet, but they aren’t exactly discussing their card game either.

“Okay, Walsh, we’re here. What’s up now?”

“It’s like I said, the monitor showed the door being opened a few minutes ago,” I hear a voice state over a radio.

I hear a bump against the opening bar. “It’s closed now. Are you sure it wasn’t us entering before?”

Their demeanor is different and more professional. It’s like I thought, they aren’t alarmed or on high-alert, but they are definitely cautious.

“No. I have that recorded. This alert came about ten minutes after,” the radio voice says.

“Okay. I don’t see anything, but we’ll check it out. Jenkins, you and Graham go check the outside door.”

I hear the door opening as I presume the two head through it on their way to check the door. If they check any farther it will, again, show that the camera isn’t working. They’ll go on high-alert and begin searching the building. If that happens, our mission is done for and I’ll be hard-pressed to escape. However, there’s nothing I can do about that now. Taking shallow breaths, I will myself to complete stillness. Flashlight beams pan along the ceiling and along the outer edges of the pipes. Slowly moving my hand, I rest it on the butt of my Beretta.

If the soldiers searching below me decide to jump or otherwise check out the tops of the conduits, it won’t be hard to find me. If they do, I’ll draw and fire. They’ll more than likely have armor vests on so I’ll have to go for the head. If I survive, I’ll make a run for the outside door, taking the two out on my way. I’ll have surprise on my side, so it shouldn’t be difficult providing the distance isn’t too far.

Beams continue to pan along the corridor and I feel my heart beating in my ears and neck, my blood pressure increasing with the tension. The group below me, four of them to judge from the number of flashlights, walk down the hallway playing their lights on the walls and ceiling. They continue for a distance before returning.

The click of the magnetic lock signals the return of the other two. I’m guessing they didn’t venture outside or I would have heard something over the radio, aside from an increase in activity.

“We didn’t see anything,” one of them reports.

“Did you check around outside?”

“No, we just checked the door and it was locked.”

I hear the one who seems to be the team leader sigh. “Okay, never mind. Walsh, did you note anything on the door outside? Do you have an alert that it was opened?”

“No. There’s nothing to indicate that it was opened,” the radio voice states.

“I’m thinking it could be the same glitch down on this end. I suppose it could be something electrical. I don’t see anything here and we’ve checked almost the entire length of the hall. There’s nowhere anything could be hiding.”

“Alright, I’ll note the door and cameras in the maintenance log and have them checked in the morning.”

“Say, do you guys smell something?” one voice questions.

“No. What’s it smell like?” another asks.

“I don’t know. It was there for a second. Wait, there it is again. It smells like, I don’t know, lemon?” the first voice says.

“Wait, yeah. Now it’s gone. Jenkins, are you putting on cologne again trying to get that corporal’s attention?”

“Fuck you guys.”

I feel a small amount of relief as their dialogue heads back to the good-natured conversation they had earlier. That means they’ve gone back to being at ease. However, I’ll have to be more careful from here on out as any further ‘glitches’ will put them on high-alert. Their voices fade as they make their way back down the hall.

I let out another sigh of relief and take several deep breaths. This isn’t simple by a long shot, but it sure is a hell of a lot easier than it was going into the night runner lair to get Lynn. I guess it helps if you don’t have inhabitants that can smell what you stepped in four days ago or hear your organs as they process chemicals. And, to me at least, humankind is more predictable than, and not as relentless as, the night runners. If these had been night runners, they wouldn’t have let up until they found me.

Lying on the conduits, I suppose I should feel a touch of exhilaration at getting inside the main facility, but what I feel is tired and drained. I send a message to Robert and quietly stash my gear back into my pack. Refocusing, I lock the tired away into a compartment. Moving my gear ahead of me, I bend my knees and, pushing up with my elbow and side of my heel, I move another foot down the pipes.