Hour of Reckoning (Donatella Book 2)

by Demetrius Jackson

  Hearing the affirmative spoken crisply into his earpiece he spoke, “We’ve been cleared, let’s go.” The alarm tied to the loading dock door had been disabled. Blackstone turned the handle and tugged at the door – silence. Good, he thought, the woman manning the security protocols on the other end knew what she was doing.

  They silently made their way through the maze that he had memorized yet he had questioned why they took this route. When reviewing the blueprints to the museum, he noted two better entry points that would have placed them closer to their destination.

  “Just follow the plan,” came the gentle voice of his partner. Knowing they had Molly, he thought that was her name, deactivating their path every step of the way, made the job a cinch, so he decided to simply “follow the plan”.

  “Pressure sensors in the next room,” came the voice over his earpiece. “Give me a moment.” He put up his fist to stop the movement of his partner only to find that was not necessary. She had walked over to another section in this room looking down a long corridor. He eyed her curiously.

  “Sensor deactivated, proceed.” Before he could utter a word, she was right back next to him – they continued. They passed through the French Tapestries and Illuminated Manuscripts followed by the German Painting and French Decorative Art. Ahead were signs for Medieval and Ancient Egyptian Art and what he had been searching for, the sign for the stairs leading to the lower level.

  They padded their way across the museum with his partner continuing to scrutinize the rooms across the atrium.

  “Come on this way,” he said nudging her along. She gave him a long, hard, cold look. He began to reevaluate his carnal desire as he moved forward. They took the stairs without incident while Molly once again worked her magic to have the lower level door unlocked just as they reached the bottom step.

  Straight ahead he could see their destination, the Exhibition Gallery. The double doors leading into the gallery were massive and recently reinforced. He knew this would be the hardest part of the journey, but again all the work was really on the shoulders of Molly.

  Aside from the electronic-timed locks on the door, a retinal scanner was the second layer of security. Only three individuals within the museum could enter the room by scanning their eye.

  Inside the room, the floor was broken into four quadrants. Each quadrant was affixed with randomly rotating pressure sensors. Only one sensor was active at a time and there was always one active sensor. If all sensors were off at the same time, or if a sensor stayed in one segment longer than it was supposed to, the alarm would sound. This made it impossible to deactivate the entire floor at once.

  Lastly, there was a series of infrared lasers that bounced at various angles across the room. The design worked in tandem with the floor sensors to ensure every inch of the room was covered at all times.

  However, the techs working at The Syndicate provided a software override that could combat most of the system. With the room broken into four segments, the software took one of the segments and broke it down into a separate quadrant. Once this was done, the pressure sensor was reconfigured to tell the software the new dimensions of the room. This being the size of the newly configured quadrant. When the sensor would activate for that segment of the room, the new configuration became the base setup for the room and only one segment was activated.

  The next part was the lasers. They were set to cover the entire room and they were not broken into quads; however, they designed a plan to combat this as well. During the installation, the GIS team was instructed to mount a series of new devices nine feet above the ground. They were told they were a new batch of cameras that the company was developing. During the installation process, the cameras were mounted as instructed and brought online. The video feed worked as expected and the installation team checked the install off of their task list.

  The cameras worked as an infrared refractor. When activated, once an infrared beam passed through any of the cameras field of vision, the infrared beam was immediately transmitted to another camera within the room. This process continued until the beam was transmitting through all of the connected cameras and thus keeping it nine feet off of the ground. As long as you stayed underneath it, you were undetectable.

  The electronic key lock was by far the easier system to defeat. Just a simple matter of inputting a valid 10-digit code and the door lock would disengage.

  Then came the retinal scan. This was an unpredictable crapshoot. During research and development, they were able to take a picture of the eye when scanned, obtain a high-resolution picture of the eyeball and present that eyeball back to the scanner. 57 percent of the time, the picture was recognized, and the system deactivated. 10 percent of the time, the picture was deemed unrecognizable and asked to try again. Upon two unrecognized readings, the system would lock down for 20 minutes.

  The remaining 33 percent of the time, the system determined it was an attempt to breach the system and the alarms immediately sound. The result – a complete lock down of that area, including the gates, locking into place.

  Marc and his partner arrived at the double doors leading into the Exhibition Gallery. He pulled the 10-digit code from the right breast pocket and entered the sequence. The key was accepted and Marc prepared to open the door.

  “Please scan eye” displayed across the screen and the location where the eye was to be scanned glowed an ominous green.

  “Please scan eye,” Marc repeated out loud – confused. “What the hell are they talking about?” For this part of the mission, Marc had been left in the dark. His partner, Terri Buckley, reached into her breast pocket removing a metal cylindrical case. Marc, still baffled by the request, was astonished when he was easily pushed aside and for the first time he noticed the case in Terri’s hand.

  She pried the case open exposing an eyeball within. Marc could sense the bile tantalizing his tonsils and he gulped to push it back down. She carefully positioned the eyeball in front of the scanner.

  While the engineers had joked that the only foolproof way the retinal scan could be defeated was to have the eyeball handy, Terri had not taken it as a joke. The failure rate was too high for her liking. She needed a sure thing.

  Prior to connecting with Marc, Terri had run a side mission. Tim Saunders, who was head of security at the museum, needed a good drink in the evenings after work. He stopped in at Ray’s Bar each night prior to going home to his family. He told his friends and anyone that would listen he needed a drink to calm his nerves before going home to the old ball and chain. And each night he did just that. Periodically, Tim also liked to get a little action on the side before going home. If there was a woman willing and wanting, he would take her right there in his truck.

  Buckley played to his every desire while in the bar. She stroked his ego with all the words he wanted to hear – especially when she told him all the things she would do to him. However, she omitted the part about an ice pick through the ear followed up by a removal of his left eye. A standby team from The Syndicate was dispatched to dispose of the body and the car.

  After a few moments of holding Tim’s eye to the scanner, the light turned green.

  “Molly, we’re in. You’re up,” came the voice from Terri speaking into her lapel.

  “Yes ma’am,” came the response that both Marc and Terri heard. He looked at her in disbelief. He didn’t know which made him feel worse. The fact that she had an earpiece on this entire time and had not said anything while he had been repeating the information from Molly as if she could not hear it.

  Or the fact that she had a human eye in a metal box in her pocket. Where on earth had she obtain this eyeball and whose eye was it?

  Or should he be most ashamed that as she stood there, with the eyeball in hand, bathed in green lights, he went back to his initial thought of stripping her out of all her clothes once again.

  “You guys are all set,” came the voice from Molly. The back-left quadrant of the room is where the pressure sensors are now conc
entrated. And as a reminder, do not raise anything above nine feet. I’d say eight and a half to be on the safe side. Good luck.”

  Buckley looked over at Blackstone, “Let’s go!”

  Entering the gallery Terri took the lead and moved directly to the secluded area located in the center of the room. With Molly performing her magic, the tightly secured room transformed into a walk in the park.

  On their approach they saw a large metal table with three paintings, a metal cart, and three ornate wooden frames. Blackstone walked over to the cart looking through its contents.

  Emulsion Cleaner

  Varnish Remover

  Neutralizer

  Varnish

  Wooden Handle Cotton Swabs

  Surgical Gloves

  Metal Container

  “Some operation they have here,” he remarked. “Looks tedious.” As he turned toward the table containing the paintings, he clipped the edge of the cart. One of the metal containers that sat on the second shelf of the cart began its precarious fall toward an inevitable collision with the ground.

  May 20th – 9:20 p.m.

  At the bottom of the escalator, the Exhibition Gallery wasn’t visible to Bobby; however, he had a vague sense that he wasn’t alone. He stowed away his flashlight and instinctively reached for his gun. He flipped off the leather strap holding the pistol in place and allowed his hand to hover cautiously. Maybe it was nothing his mind tried; however, 20 plus years of experience on the force continued to combat that thought.

  He proceeded down the open atrium toward the gallery. The door was ajar, that shouldn’t be, came the thought, but he heard nothing further. He carefully walked toward the door, ears searching for any foreign sounds, nose reaching for unknown scents.

  Ten feet from the entrance he could see a faint light illuminating the space beyond. Since he had not gained entry into the room previously he didn’t know if this was out of place. He slid into the opening, hand settling on the butt of the pistol, eyes focused on the source of the light. He walked, listening, smelling, peering. The fine hairs on the back of his neck began to rise warning of danger but he saw none – he heard none.

  The source of the illumination, a flashlight, stood on its end at the center of the table. The alarms in his mind blared a moment too late

  “Please take your hand off the pistol,” came the hushed yet firm voice of a woman.

  He could feel the barrel of a .45 pressed against the base of his spine. Bobby ran scenarios through his mind then decided to comply – for now. He raised both hands in acquiescence and felt his holster lighten as his pistol was removed.

  “Turn around slowly,” came the voice as the pressure released from the small of his back.

  He did so and stood face-to-face with a barrel resting between his eyes.

  “Let’s be clear. I have no intention of shooting you,” in this museum, she thought, “So do as you’re told and you will be fine. Are we clear?”

  He nodded wordlessly.

  She pulled a pair of flex cuffs and tossed them to him. “You seem to be a capable man. Affix these to your wrist.”

  Bobby Cliff caught the cuffs and slid them over his wrist. He raised his hands to his mouth grabbing the long strand of the left side with his teeth – and pulled, tightening the plastic around his wrist. He did the same with the right side.

  “Good. Now if you don’t mind, please have a seat on the ground. This is for both your safety and ours.”

  Ours? He thought. He hadn’t seen anyone else. How many people were here? One more? Two more? A dozen? What have I walked in on? He awkwardly lowered himself to the floor extending his legs in front of him.

  “What are we going to do with him?” came a male voice from his left.

  He could feel the intensity in the woman as she glared at the approaching figure.

  In a measured voice she said, “Secure the paintings. We don’t have all night.”

  Turning her attention back to Bobby she said, “Sit here and don’t move. We will be out of here shortly.”

  The woman walked away, following in the steps of her accomplice. Two perps, he thought. As the man picked up a painting from the table, he was able to catch a glimpse. The style looked awfully familiar and he was sure he hadn’t seen it before. The work looked to be that of abstract expressionism and he had the vague sense that it was a Pollock piece.

  The man worked expertly, quickly, while the woman scrutinized the room. Bobby ran through his mind the avenues of escape and what to do next.

  Within a couple of minutes, the first painting was secure within a cylindrical tube and the man moved on to the next. His meticulous yet efficient work continued for the next 15 minutes. Within that span of time, Bobby watched as the man secured seven paintings.

  “We’re all done, it’s time to go. What are we doing with him?” the man asked again.

  Again, the woman ignored the question. “Help him to his feet.” She turned her attention back to Bobby, “I need for you to walk out with us. You aren’t going to cause us any troubles, are you?”

  He shook his head.

  “Good.” She looked back at her partner and said, “You carry the paintings, I’ll keep an eye on our guest. You take the lead, our guest will walk behind you, and I will walk behind our guest.”

  Marc’s eyes told of his displeasure with the decision but nonetheless began retracing the route back to the loading dock.

  Upon exiting the Exhibition Gallery, Terri reached Molly and advised her of their departure. The distant tech began by first resetting the quadrants across the gallery and reenabling the motion sensor patterns. Next, she one by one disabled the reflectors within the cameras allowing the infrared to return to its normal state.

  Molly worked returning each security measure back to its previous state before the team entered the building. Their egress went quicker than their ingress and within a span of moments they were back outside.

  The air was warm for this time of night and the moon was partially tucked behind a cloud giving off a sliver of natural light. Marc opened the panel door on the side of the vehicle placing each cylinder inside an oversized storage trunk. Marc placed the last cylinder in the trunk and turned back to Buckley, “Now, what are we going to –”

  Terri, with the .45 aimed at his head, shot Marc twice and before the body hit the ground swung the pistol and released two shots into the right eye socket of Bobby Cliff.

  She activated the mic on her lapel, “We are going to need a disposal crew at the loading dock. Two subjects down. Reset the entry logs for Tim Saunders as we discussed. I’m headed to the drop with the packages.

  May 21st – 6:00 a.m.

  Veronica King woke to the sound of her alarm for only the third time in the last month - second this week. She felt settled in her role as CEO for GIS and the incident from months prior finally seemed to be behind the staff. The FBI woman, Dabria, had not made any visits. Authorities had decided her husband had run off thus allowing for her to file for an uncontested divorce. There was a waiting period in case he wanted to contest the divorce but she was sure that would not happen. Just a formality, she mused.

  The woman calling herself Bree Buckley had not made an appearance recently although she scared the shit out of her. Her daughter, Gina, seemed to be settled and slowly she was forgetting about that no-good daddy of hers.

  By all accounts, King was finally getting her life back in order. Today, she'd meet with a potential client, Citi Bank, to upgrade the security across their entire footprint. Finalizing the deal secured a profitable first quarter to the tune of $6 million to the bottom line - something she was sure the board would applaud.

  She finished brushing her hair, gave herself the once over in the full-length mirror - approved, and headed downstairs for her morning coffee. She would allow Gina to sleep an extra 20 minutes while she enjoyed a moment to herself.

  At the bottom of the stairs, she flipped the switch, illuminating the kitchen and walked to the coffee maker.
She filled the water reservoir to the two-cup line - she'd take a cup to go and measured out two tablespoons of Starbucks Pike's Place coffee. Better make that three tablespoons, she thought opting for a stronger brew. She depressed the brew button and turned toward the fridge. Feeling a little frisky this morning, she'd have a Danish roll with her coffee.

  “I hope you brewed a cup for me too.”

  The strange intrusion in her house caused her to gasp audibly. She turned toward the sound cascading from her living room. The overhead light activated and there stood Buckley in the center of the room. How in the hell does this woman keep getting into my house?

  The woman looked a little haggard, something she hadn't noticed in her before. Nonetheless, she still had the air of menace in her mannerisms.

  “Relax,” she said in a calm, placating voice. “No one is here to harm you or your daughter. Actually, quite the opposite. We are here to applaud you on a job well done.”

  We?

  A figure materialized from the shadows. A woman, a tad heavy with a bob cut. It was the woman from the hologram. She stood a tad over 5 feet 5 inches with smooth, tanned skin. She had a slight waddle to her walk and a gentleness to her features.

  “Mrs. Veronica King. It truly is a pleasure to make your acquaintance in person. I've looked over you for so long I feel as if I already know you.” The woman offered a relatively small hand for such a large frame.

  Veronica shook the proffered hand.

  “I must commend you and your team on the excellent work you did at the museum. Everything was in place as expected and operated flawlessly.”

  The look of shock that ran across Veronica's face was genuine. She had not known they were going to break into the museum so soon. They would now fault the system for the break-in on the morning of perhaps her biggest deal.