Sweepers

by P. T. Deutermann

  He listened carefully, but there were no sounds. No smell* of human habitation, no candy wrappers or beer cans. But that wire had to go somewhere. That wire was new. And this plywood was new. He stepped out onto the first sheet and it held, although broken plaster scrunched underneath as he took the next step. The hallway got darker as he moved across the plywood, and he kept looking over his shoulder at the frame of the front door, where the glare of the afternoon light outside etched every detail of the front porch. He was about six feet from the closed door when he looked up and saw something shiny above the door-something round and glinting, as if made of glass. A camera? Oh Lord, was that a video camera?

  The flash went off in his face, a sickeningly familiar purplish blast of light that overwhelmed his brain circuits even as he recognized it. As he reeled back, his brain paralyzed, he thought he heard an ominously familiar inhalation sound.

  “Let him go,” Carpenter said after the yeoman brought in the pieces of the ID card. “He’s just mad right now. He’ll come around.”

  Kensington dismissed the yeoman and waited for him to the door. “Are you completely sure those archives are an?”

  Carpenter wasn’t sure of anything. He had been truly unsettled when Karen Lawrence turned on him like that. And God only knew what that von Rensel guy was doing. “Yes, sir, but I’m going to keep a security trap. in place until we have Sherman’s papers.”

  “You said it was clean.”

  “It is, but I don’t trust computers, or the weird bastards who can get into their brains and manipulate them. Like that guy those people sent over.”

  Kensington nodded thoughtfully. “Do you realize how bad that whole business would look in today’s climate?”

  “I don’t want to even think about it. Leaving a guy behind was one thing. Not trying to get him back was something else again. In today’s climate, the Navy’d be tom apart over this little story.”

  They were interrupted by the EA. “Admiral Carpenter, your office has patched down a call from a Mr. Mcnair?

  Says it’s urgent.

  As they walked quickly away from Kensington’s office, Karen’s mind was spinning. Why was Carpenter doing this?

  As a woman, she could understand Sherman’s decision to throw in the towel. But not why Kensington and Carpenter were doing this. Unless, of course, Sherman wasn’t the scandal they were really afraid of. She stopped short in the corridor, thinking about that locked file.

  “Admiral, there has to be something more behind all this than just fear of a public-relations problem. And I think I know where we might find it.”

  Sherman gave her a weary look. “Do we have time for theories, Karen?”

  “I think We ought to make time for this one,” she said.

  “I’d like to divert to my office before we leave the building, and hopefully before Admiral Carpenter gets back to his office. I need to get to my. computer.”

  “Will the office be open? And what are we looking for?” He asked as she turned dawn the sixth corridor, heading toward the Investigations Review offices. Their voices echoed in the empty hallway.

  Stem portraits of CNOS past frowned down on them.

  “This whole thing began in Vietnam,” she said. “A week ago, I asked for the archive file of the original JAG investigation, when Galantz was lost. But when I tried to pull it up, there was a security block.

  Admiral Carpenter, told Train that he had read it, and that it corroborated your version of what happened out there in Vietnam. But I’m wondering if there isn’t something else in that file.”

  “Did von Rensel see it?”

  “No, sir,” she said, turning into the D-ring corridor and quickening her pace. “He obtained the NIS file on Jack. But he thinks Carpenter is behind the security block.”

  They arrived at the IR office door, whose translucent glass window was dark. She punched in the code and opened the door. Sherman followed her in and closed the door behind them as she turned on some lights. “Why would NIS have a file on Jack?” he asked.

  She hurried over to her cubicle, debited with herself about turning off the lights, and decided against it. She went over to the yeoman’s desk and booted up the network server, and then she went to her desk to bring up her own system.

  “I’m not sure they had a file on him, per se. They apparently have access to multiple databases, and they can do what the telemarketers and the credit checkers can do, only with some federal muscle.”

  “What a concept,” he muttered.

  “Okay, system’s up ” She sat down at her desk and put through a request from’the IR system to the JAG local-area network. Sherman paced around the empty office while Karen’s fingers flew over the keyboard.

  “Any luck?” Sherman asked from across the room.

  “Almost,” she replied, opening the’access screen and keying in her original request number. The screen asked for her personal identifier.

  She keyed that in. A red banner exploded across the screen. It told her that her access was invalid and that the restricting authority was being notified.

  “Uh-oh,” Sherman said from across the room.

  “Uh-oh is right,” she said. “Access denied. And I’ll bet Carpenter’s office is getting an alert right now telling them I’m trying to get into this file.”

  “Maybe we should shut down and get out of here, then,” he said. “Before the rent-a-cops show up. Or worse, some of the CNO’s Marines from Opnav security.”

  “I can’t imagine anything like that,” she said. “It’s not as if I was doing something illegal. This is a system I use all the time.”

  “See if you can log into your division’s LAN E-mail system,” he suggested. “See if this denial is file -specific, or user-specific.”

  She frowned but then exited the archive system and opened E-mail.

  Another red banner. “It’s me, she whispered.

  “I was afraid of that,” he said. “Let’s go. Now.”

  “I have to shut the system down. If I don’t, the server will-“

  “Screw the server,” he said, reaching down to hit the computer’s power key. “We need to get out of this building and down to Aquia as quickly as possible.”

  Karen got up hurriedly and turned off the office lights.

  They opened the door and looked out into the empty corridor.

  “No sounds of approaching jackboots,” Sherman said.

  “Follow me.”

  “Where are we going?” she asked, hurrying to keep up in her skirt and heels.

  “Don’t think we ought just to waltz out the South Parking entrance,” he said over his shoulder. If that was a network trap, there’ll be a security alert. I’m not sure what’s going on here, but somebqdy’s locked you ‘out of the system, and recently. We’ll take these stairs right here.’ He ducked sideways into a small stairway in the middle of the corridor. Karen followed, her heels clattering on the concrete steps.

  “Where does this go? I’ve never used this one. “

  “Spend enough years in this building, you learn some shortcuts. This’ll get us down to the first floor, and then we’ll go around the B-ring to corridor four. Stay out of the A-ring in case security vehicles are on their way. Damn, I wish it weren’t Saturday. The building’s empty as a tomb.

  We’re going to be conspicuous.”

  “Where will that take us?” she asked.

  “And I may have to take these shoes off.”

  He turned around to look and then apologized. “Sorry. I forgot about heels. I guess there’s no need to run.” But even as he said that, as they were about to cross the sixth corridor through the B-ring, they heard the urgent beeping sound of an approaching electric security vehicle coming down the A-ring to their left. They stopped and ducked back into the B-ring, flattening themselves against an office door.

  There were two large glass doors across the sixth corridor, where they could see the reflection of the security vehicle, a large electric golf cart with a rota
ting amber beacon, go humming by. There were four armed men riding in the vehicle.

  Sherman swore. “Reaction force. Probably on their way to the main entrances. That may or may not be for us, but if it is, we’re going to have to hurry.”

  Karen popped her shoes off and began to trot in her stockinged feet. As long as they were on the polished corridor floors, it wasn’t too bad.

  They moved quickly along the angled segments of B-ring, across the fifth corridor and then into the fourth corridor. She had to put-her shoes back on to get across the garage and utility street between D-ring and E-ring, and she left, them on as they went back up a small stairway to reach ground level. Sherman paused just inside a doorway.

  “Okay,” ‘he said. “What we’re trying for here is the heliport door. It’s an exit that’s open only on workdays. Usually, there’s a guard, but probably only an alarm system ‘right now. It opens directly into the heliport area, and from there it’s only a hundred yards or so to South Parking. It’s all I can think of.”

  She nodded. “I can’t believe there are police after us. I didn’t do anything I don’t do routinely.”

  “That’s when you were persona grata,” he replied, keeping an eye out into the corridor through the glass door.

  “Now you’re keeping bad company. Sure you want to keep going with this, Counselor?”

  “I’m sure,” she said with a small smile. “I think.”

  Right. Remember that the forces of truth, justice, and the American way are all behind you. Way behind you.

  Let’s do it.”

  He took one more look through the door for amber strobe lights, then pushed the door open. They stepped out into the fourth corridor, which was darker than usual. In the perpetual effort to save money, the Pentagon building’s management turned out half the overhead lights in the corridors on weekends. Trying to act normally, they walked together the final eighty feet to the small doorway at the end of the corridor.

  The guard table by the door was unoccupied, but they could see a red sign chained across the door.

  “Definitely alarmed,” she said, keeping her voice down as they approached the door. “Won’t that bring the reaction force?”

  “Probably. We can only hope they come from the inside and that no one thinks to simply step out of the South Parking entrance to see what’s happening back on the heliport.

  Wish I had a helo out there.”

  “You’re an admiral. Can’t you just call one?”

  “Remember the guy in Henry the Fifth who claims that he can call forth spirits from the vasty deep? And the other guy says, yeah, but do they come when you call them?

  That’s me. I used to think I could, though,” he said.

  The chain across the door was there to hold the sign, not to secure the door. The door itself had a fire-escape bar on the inside, which meant they could get out, although not back in once that door closed. Two black boxes with shielded wiring were positioned on either side of the top left crack between the door and the doorjam. There was also an amber strobe light mounted ten feet high in the ceiling and it, too, was wired to the black box.

  “Definitely alarmed,” he said. “Okay. Once outside, we turn left and walk quickly but normally toward South Parking. If someone stops us, we did see a man in civilian clothes headed for the River Entrance.”

  “He went thataway, Sheriff?”

  “Right. Unless they’re specifically looking for us, my admiral’s uniform may do the trick. Ready?”

  “I guess,” she said, adjusting her shoes. She was wishing she could see through that door.

  He stepped forward, unhooked the chained sign, and then pushed the bar.

  Karen expected an audible alarm, but the only thing that happened was that the amber light began to flash over their heads. They went out through the door, pushed it shut, walked quickly down the steps to the heliport area, and turned left for South Parking. Traffic out on Washington Boulevard whizzed past just beyond the heliport. The bright sunlight was almost blinding.

  They headed down a sidewalk right alongside the building and made it almost to the edge of the heliport before two armed guards came around the comer of the building.

  “Good, they’re Marines,” Sherman murmured.

  Karen couldn’t quite figure out why that was good, but then she began to understand when the Marines trotted up to them, assumed rigid positions of attention, and saluted in unison. Sherman returned the salute casually and asked what the problem was.

  “Intruder alarm, heliport door, sir,” the smaller one said.

  “I saw a guy come out of there as we were walking past,” Sherman replied, pointing down toward the other end of the building. “Civilian?

  With a briefcase? Seemed to be in a hurry?”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Good afternoon, sir!” they shouted in unison as they took off down the side of the building, unslinging submachine weapons.

  “Let’s go, Counselor,” Sherman said, looking over his oulder. “That’ll be good for about another ninety seconds we’re lucky.

  They walked rapidly to the comer of the building and then stepped across the empty perimeter street toward their cars. Karen could see other guards standing around the South Parking entrance doors, one of whom was using a radio. They made it to their cars, and Karen slipped into the Mercedes while the admiral opened the door to his car. She reached down to finger a pebble out of her right shoe, and when she straightened back up, the cars were surrounded by armed guards. A huge man in a uniform she didn’t recognize was gesturing for her to get out of the car. He was emphasizing his, command with the barrel of his gun. She rolled the window down, keeping her hands in sight.

  “Get out of the car, please, Commander,” the guard said.

  Two other guards were between her car and Sherman’s, and she could see Sherman getting out of his car. She did the same, and they walked her around to the back of Sherman’s car. Three Army majors who had been about to leave for the day were watching in amazement from the next row of cars. Karen was grateful not to see the two Marines they had encountered along the side of the building.

  A Marine captain walked up to the group of guards and saluted Sherman.

  “Opnav security, Sir. Sir did you just come through the heliport door?”

  “Yes, I did. We did.”

  “That’s an alarmed door, Admiral,” the captain said in a tone of voice that clearly indicated he was pointing out the obvious. “May I see your identification, please, Sir?”

  “Sure,” Sherman said, reaching for his wallet. And then he paused for a second and looked over at Karen. She felt a cold wave of dismay. He had cut up his ID card up there at the DCNO’s office. He fished out his wallet, looked inside, and then shrugged his shoulders. “Well, Captain, I seemed to have misplaced it.”

  “I can identify this officer,” Karen said.

  “May I see your ID card, then, Commander?” Which is when she realized she didn’t have an ID card, either.

  “Uh“‘was all she could manage to say.

  “Yes, ma’am,” the Marine said in a gotcha tone of voice.

  “Why don’t we all go back to Opnav Security and straighten this thing out? Admiral Sherman, this way, please, Sir. I I They know who we are, Karen realized with a sinking feeling. Train, we need you.

  Train was blind, again. He had been looking directly into that lens, his eyes wide open when the retinal flash exploded down his optic nerves. He was only vaguely aware of a sharp sting in his left arm. He tried to think of what to do next, but his brain was just idling’quietly in place. He realized that he was still standing, leaning against the wall in that hallway, but that was about the sumof it. There were still two intense purple suns pinwheeling in his eyes. Seen those puppies before.

  And then a wave of something else took over, a warm, almost-comforting tide of sleep washing over his brain, diminishing those purple suns, filtering all that bright light, causing his knees to buckle, and then he was going down
like a stunned ox, his right hip and elbow hitting the plywood, but no big deal, tuck and roll with the best of ‘em, so nice to rest, so very nice just to sleep a little while. He thought he heard a voice say something about getting his arms.

  Karen was starting to get angry. They had been cooped up in this small room for nearly three hours since their apprehension in the parking lot.

  The Marines had escorted them up to Opnav Security on the-fourth floor, given them a perfunctory airport-style search for weapons with a magnetic wand, and then deposited them in this office without another word. The room was about fifteen feet square, with a small table and four chairs in the middle. The door to the main operations area of the security office had a translucent glass panel, and they could see people moving around out there but could not hear what they were saying.

  The walk through the Pentagon had been embarrassing, as it must have been obvious to anyone passing them in the main hallways that they were under police escort of some kind, even with only four guards. The Marine captain had accompanied them as far as the security office, but then he had disappeared. A policewoman escorted Karen to the bathroom the one time she had asked, but there had been no other contact. At one point, Karen started to ask Sherman how long this would go on, but he had put his fingers to his lips and pointed to the ceiling. She automatically looked up. There was nothing up there but a fluorescent light fixture.

  And then she understood. The room was probably bugged. She had nodded and then made herself as comfortable as she could while they waited.

  But three hours? She was ready to go bang. on that door and demand something, although she wasn’t sure what. The only actual crime they had committed was to breach the security door by the heliport. Okay, so sue us, or give us a building traffic ticket, or whatever. Carpenter and company had to be behind this somehow, but for the life of her, she could not understand why. And she was worried about Train. She didn’t want to think about that prospect. She looked at her watch for the hundredth time. Sherman gave her a wry smile when he saw her do that. He motioned for her to pull her chair around so that she was sitting next to him. Then he began to print invisible letters on the table with his finger.