Fulfillment (Wilton's Gold #2)

by Craig W. Turner

  Her route led her to a short glassed hallway that connected the two buildings, leading her into the octagonal facility. The lab would not be out in the open. Rather, she’d probably have to navigate some maze to find it, but she allowed her intuition to lead her. The sirens outside the building were much louder now, meaning that the fire crews had arrived, and she estimated she had about ten minutes before they’d begin to let people back into the buildings. Though, she was not sure of the extent of the fire – it could be longer. Still, she wanted to be safe.

  She made a right down a hallway that was uniquely not as stark white as the others – instead, it was a cream color that was noticeably different in how it failed to reflect light back toward her eyes. Since this entire facility existed for only one hidden purpose, she assumed it was the way to go. Shortly, she came to a set of double doors with frosted windows, and attempted to push through them. They held fast.

  The first entry.

  To her right there was a pad on the wall which resembled the eye scanner at the front of the building. She pressed the button and placed her right eye in front of the screen. A laser illuminated outward and the doors clicked open. She was inside.

  Past the doors, the hallway was no longer the overbearing white or even cream, except for the floor. These walls were painted black, like the walls one might see in a theatre. Just the change in environment made her feel as though she was correct in her navigation, which increased the speed of her steps. She was almost in a sprint by the time she came to two oversized metal doors which, to her mind, clearly signaled the lab. Inside would be the time device.

  Not knowing what it looked like, she hadn’t devised a plan for dismantling it. While she had expertise in explosives, which would’ve been her process of choice, she had no materials or weapons. Her most recent thought was that, once inside, she would barbarically start smashing things to make them irreparable for the scientists that were using them. This was a risky strategy, because she knew she would be caught. She would then need to explain herself succinctly and quickly before guards would understandably begin trying to shoot her for her actions. She believed she would be able to get three or four sentences in before guilty-until-proven-innocent became her reality. Those four sentences had to be carefully scripted – particularly the intro, to ensure that the guards didn’t simply shoot her on sight.

  To the left of the doors was a keypad device. Not believing it would work, she entered her mother’s birth date again, as she had at the front entrance, but to no result. She closed her eyes and again tried to channel her other self. Father’s birth date. No success. She tried the date in 1983 that she would go back to murder Belochkin, thinking that other Ekaterina might have had a sense of irony. Nothing. She tried her identification number from when she was a child, which was emblazoned in her brain.

  After about ten attempts, she gave up and contemplated other ways to gain entry. If she could guarantee herself the time, she was more than confident that she could hot-wire the keypad and open the doors. But there was a big difference between getting caught before dismantling the time device and after. If she was found trying to gain access to the lab, she would not get the opportunity to tell her story. The sirens had stopped, which meant that the firefighters were at work putting out the fire. Especially with the fire taking place in a non-essential part of the facility, it would not be long before people were cleared to re-enter the secure parts of the building.

  She made a split second decision and turned away from the doors, sprinting back the way she’d come. She pushed a button on the side of the original double doors to let herself out and hurried through the hallways until she found an exit to the outside. A moment later, she was standing on the sidewalk facing what she determined was east, toward the trees. To her left she could hear the commotion of the people gathered, waiting to get back to work. She crept along the side of the building and peeked around the corner to see the status of the crowd. They were still waiting for instructions. The closest person was about 100 meters away, so to remain inconspicuous, she knew she could not suddenly appear from around the side of the building.

  Her plan was to integrate herself in the crowd and filter in with the rest of the workers, hopefully finding the other Ekaterina along the way. She knew that she could get past most security measures if she needed to, but the only way she could gain access to the lab was with her other self in tow.

  Losing herself anonymously in a crowd was a skill she’d used often in her life. She decided the best way to join the crowd was as a casual bystander. As she contemplated what the situation would look like – who else would be around, what guards she might face – she strolled out from behind the building and slowly walked along the grassy area, looking up at the hook-and-ladder crew with manufactured amazement. If anyone saw her, which she was sure they did, she needed to look as though she had been outside for a specific purpose and was just now seeing what had caused the alarms. Once she reached the crowd, eliminating her element of surprise, she could begin her search for her other self.

  As she got close to the workers, she noticed a number of them looking at her. She had to make a quick interpretation as to whether they were wondering simply where she’d come from, or – the greater challenge – how she’d changed her hair and clothes so quickly, in case they were people who had come in contact with Ekaterina already that day. She leaned toward the former.

  “любой знает, как огонь начался?” she said, asking how the fire started, probably with more authority than was necessary. She thought it was a reasonable conversation starter. No one in her vicinity knew the answer, though, so it was a short conversation.

  From her new vantage point, she could see that her timing had been accurate, as the flames were smoldering at the top of the tallest building. It would be just moments before they’d extinguished it completely and the facility would be cleared for entry. With no time to waste, she flitted behind the crowd, searching for her own familiar face until she reached the parking lot. She saw her finally, standing among the cars and looking around nervously. She laughed to herself. Whatever spy instincts she’d learned over the years must not have been innate, as it was too obvious her other self was up to something.

  A moment later, she saw what it was. Her friend, Dr. Jeff Jacobs, emerged from the crowd and connected with her in the parking lot. Ekaterina immediately began to process how he’d been able to make contact with her and determined the only possibility was the tablet computer he’d had slung over his shoulder the entire trip. How he knew her contact information she would have to ask him before she killed him.

  She watched as they stood talking among the cars for a few moments, taking advantage of the opportunity to study her doppelganger’s posture. She was leaning her weight onto her right leg, which slumped her shoulder slightly. She didn’t make eye contact with Jeff, instead staring straight at the now smoking building ahead of them. She moved her head slightly as she talked, almost as if to say “no,” but suggesting that she wasn’t one hundred percent sure of what she was saying.

  As Ekaterina watched, she began to copy her mannerisms, in case there would arise a need to impersonate her, which was possible. There was no matching the cut of her hair, as her own cropped hairstyle was not long enough to mimic it. She could, however, pull the front of her hair onto her forehead to create the illusion of bangs. It was the best she could do. The clothing she couldn’t match, either, but that was inconsequential. She was dressed like a Russian, and could easily come up with a million reasons why she would have needed to change clothes in the middle of the day.

  The two of them refused to look at each other, which she took to suggest they were plotting. Jeff had likely won her attention by telling her that he knew she was planning to travel back in time that night, and would have warned her that she herself was there to stop her from doing so. Since Jeff’s time device was safely in her pocket, their only options were to put up a united front against her or try t
o expedite her mission. Their only hope of doing so was to be in the lab before she destroyed everything. Since Jeff would not be able to get into the building, she would have to go without him. While she didn’t know where that would leave him in time travel realities, there was not the time for her to wait to find out.

  The other factor in play was what she’d witnessed in Belochkin’s time travel room in the compound in 1983. She knew that her other self had been in the room just two days ago – Evelyn had told her in her initial message. She knew what Belochkin was capable of and what he intended to do. She also knew that he intended to do it as soon as tomorrow. If she could not destroy the time device, there was only a small window of time for her to stop Ekaterina and then explain to Belochkin that his experiment would have dire consequences.

  Which she believed. She was pleased that the Soviet Union had been restored. But she’d become decidedly anti-time travel. Much too dangerous.

  She noticed Ekaterina finally look over at Jeff, talking. The look on her face was serious. He turned his body toward her and they exchanged thoughts. She was too far away to read their lips, though she did pick up “Belochkin” and “1983.” They were speaking English. They both looked back toward the building for a moment before Ekaterina took Jeff by the hand and hastily led him into the crowd starting to funnel back into the building.

  They weren’t waiting. They were doing it now.

  She broke into a sprint toward the doors.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Ekaterina delved into the crowd, pulling Jeff harshly behind her. Her early impressions of Dr. Jacobs were that he was a thinker, and there was no time for the luxury of contemplation. Based on what Jeff had told her about the situation, her other evil self had probably started the fire, and then she’d likely visited the lab during the evacuation and found out that she was barred from getting inside.

  If she was correct about her presence in the facility, it would have meant she’d been able to guess her access code into the building. When she’d chosen her mother’s birthday as her code, it hadn’t occurred to her that she would ever have to deal with another person with the same woman as her mother, being an only child. But that was no longer the case. The other Ekaterina would be able to pass any fingerprint or retinal scan for access to semi-restricted areas, which was terrifying in itself. However, there was no way she could determine the code to get into the lab, as they were randomly created by the facility’s main computer and changed once a week. Given the dangers of time travel, and the reality that anyone with access to it could do irreparable and untraceable damage, precautions surrounding that singular area of the facility were at the highest level. More so even than those associated with the Soviet Union’s nuclear program. As promised, she quietly explained this to Jeff as they moved with the rest of the crowd toward the door.

  Despite the welcome midday break, the facility’s workers were quickly flowing back into the building. Everyone was aware that the Premier would be visiting sometime in the next 24 hours, and there was no time to procrastinate. Ekaterina was hoping that this would work to her advantage, as it would be difficult to interview everyone in the throng one-by-one. Indeed, as she got closer to the doors, she saw guards giving people a once-over and letting them through. They knew as well as anyone that Belochkin was coming with a purpose, and even the loss of 45 minutes of productivity would not settle well with him. The fire itself would fall under the workers’ responsibility – fair or not.

  She glanced toward Jeff and realized that he looked about as Russian as a New York Yankees shortstop. They slowed to a lull as the crowd of dozens attempting to get into this particular door funneled into the much smaller entryway. Here, she let go of his arm, leaving pink fingerprints on his wrist, and turned toward him. Without a word, she reached up to the collar of his jacket, pulling it forward so that it rested properly on his shoulders, then zipped it up almost all the way to his neck. His hair was American, and there was little she could do about it on such short notice, so she quickly brushed it with her fingers to get as much as she could off of his forehead. The pants with the pockets on the legs she could do nothing about – though she did appreciate their practicality.

  Finally, she leaned in close to him. “Do you know any Russian?”

  Jeff laughed, which was strange given her anxiety and haste. “I know how to say that I have to pee.”

  She wracked her brain to predict anything they might ask of him so that she could quickly prepare him. They were about twenty paces from the doors, with approximately 15 people in front of them, the line rapidly diminishing. At the same time, she was also planning how to get to the lab as quickly as possible to beat Dmitriyev there. She could isolate her crew outside, as she was the chief authority when the Podpolkovnik was not present, but if she and Jeff could get inside the lab before him, they could temporarily lock the door and buy themselves a few moments.

  That plan also required them to make it to the lab before the other Ekaterina, who would be an obstacle. A potentially life-threatening one.

  She refocused herself to the present, realizing they were only moments from Jeff coming face-to-face with the guards. She determined that if there was talking to do, she would need to do it. Perhaps she could steer them toward one response that he could deliver in Russian.

  There were only five people in front of them now. She pulled his arm and he turned toward her. “Repeat after me,” she said. “Ya, CON-su-dant dez Moscui.”

  “What am I saying?”

  “Just repeat it.” He did. His dialect was terrible, but she ran through it with him a few times until they were the next in line.

  Hope was not enough to get them through, as the guard stopped them. He said nothing at first, but eyed Jeff suspiciously. She didn’t want to get into a discussion that Jeff couldn’t handle, so she spoke first. “доктор Metkovic - физик посещения, помогающий с нашим проектом.” She introduced him as a visiting physicist. She came up with the name “Metkovic” on the spot, not taking the time to assess whether Jeff actually looked like a Metkovic.

  The guard, who Ekaterina knew well from so many times passing him at the front desk, looked at Jeff and asked, “откуда – Вы?” He wanted to know where he was from. Which was good, because her set-up answer for him was appropriate.

  Jeff delivered his line, “я – консультант из Москвы.”

  Then she jumped back in, building on the story. “Доктор Метковик – с Московской Академией Наук. Он – здесь для сегодня только.” Easy. He’s visiting from the Moscow Academy of Sciences and is in town for a one-day stop. As the conversation was going on, she’d begun to work up a backstory that would invoke Belochkin’s haste to get the project done: they were stuck and needed outside expertise to be ready in time. She hoped she wouldn’t have to use it, though. It could lead to more questions for Jeff.

  To emphasize that the line was backing up behind them, Ekaterina took a glance backward, hoping to draw his attention with her. It worked, as she noticed him look past her at the growing line of people.

  Unfortunately, in that line she saw her mirror image, staring directly at her.

  She had only a split second to take in the sight of herself. The same person, only different. Besides the obvious deviations – the hair, the clothes – her face wore a different lifetime of experiences. Even a grim determination that made her feel like prey being stalked. It was a countenance she never could have imagined for herself, and if she hadn’t seen it in person she would not have believed that raw emotion of vengeance could be inside her. It caused her to skip a breath, but her instincts reminded her there was no time to dwell on it. They had to move.

  She looked up at the guard earnestly and leaned in close to him, reminding him that the General Secretary would be coming in the next twenty-four hours and his project was not yet complete. They’d brought in Dr. Metkovic – he was an hono
red physicist and they could look him up – to help them in these final hours. If she didn’t get back into that lab soon, she would have hell to pay when Belochkin arrived. It wasn’t where she wanted to go with the ruse, but she knew that she only needed to get to the lab. There wouldn’t be the time for anyone to validate her story.

  The guard took another glance past them. The throng of people had not dwindled at all. In fact, a number of workers had grown tired of waiting and were making their way to the next entryway about 250 meters away. She could see in his eyes the internal debate between letting someone into the building he didn’t recognize and keeping so many workers standing outside, frustrated. Ultimately, pressure won out over security and he waved them in; the stranger was with one of their most respected scientists, after all. The others in the crowd began to file in behind them. Ekaterina considered warning the guard about her other self or even creating some kind of diversion, but she was already risking being stopped by bringing Jeff into the building. She didn’t need to raise any additional alarms. They would simply have to outrace her to the lab.

  They had a head start, which was helpful. Once again clutching Jeff by the wrist, she hurried, without actually running, through the hallways en route to her building. The corridors were starting to fill with people, most of whom appeared to be consumed with getting back to their own offices. But the last thing she wanted to do was arouse suspicion or act out of the ordinary. Any obstacle they might encounter would be precious seconds lost.