Crash Alive (The Haylie Black Series Book 1)

by Christopher Kerns

  The tour group laughed politely, exchanging smiles and even a smattering of applause. Haylie felt like she was at a tennis match.

  I need to check the rest of this place out before the Reading Room opens.

  As the group meandered through the study’s collection, Haylie tiptoed backwards towards the exit and slipped into the hallway. She snuck down into the Rotunda, making her way past the bright-white marble walls and gold molding. As she approached the huge, framed entrance into the next room—under a stone entryway reading ‘Soli Deo Honor Et Gloria’—Haylie felt the floor transition from cold marble to warm wood. The next moment, she was stepping into J.P. Morgan’s private library.

  The main library room was something straight out of a fairy tale; the first floor, plus two levels of walkways stacked high above, were filled to the brim with the rich, autumn colors of thousands of leather-bound books. A giant tapestry hung above the fireplace, covering most of the huge rear wall. On the floor, glass cases held ancient treasures of science and art—hand-written letters by J.D. Salinger and Galileo, and original musical scores by composers like Mahler and Ravel.

  As she entered the chamber, she was startled by a loud boom to her right. Jumping back and spinning to face the bookshelves, she searched for the source of the noise. What the hell was that?

  “Excuse me, miss.” Haylie heard a familiar voice from over her left shoulder. She turned, knowing that the tour guide was standing right behind her.

  “Hi, sorry, I just got a little ahead of the group,” Haylie said, feigning a pinch of shyness.

  “We’re not allowed in here on the first tour of the morning,” the tour guide said, nervously checking behind her to keep an eye on the rest of the group. “Security isn’t even here yet. You can come back after nine thirty.”

  Haylie’s eyes were drawn up to the elaborate painted ceiling, with too many colors, figures, and scenes to take in with one glance. The guide noticed her attention and cracked a slight grin.

  “Come on, we need to get moving,” the guide said, herding Haylie out the door with an extended arm.

  As the tour continued down into the newer sections of the museum, Haylie quietly peeled off from the group. Taking a few reassuring breaths, she made her way back to the front entrance and headed for the stairs. At the top, she hooked a sharp right, walking towards the clerk’s office of the Reading Room.

  Time to see if this plan is going to work.

  > > > > >

  Brux Software HQ - NYC

  9:25AM

  “Great stuff today, Benjamin,” the board member said along with a vigorous handshake. “Really excited about the next eighteen months and the product roadmap direction.”

  Benjamin enjoyed the moment, flashing a subtle smile. “Thanks, Calvin, we’re really happy with our progress.”

  Another board member angled into the conversation to add his two cents. “Great talk track today. And efficient, as always. When I get five minutes back at the end of a meeting, I think I’ll start calling it ‘Sterling Time.’”

  “Speaking of time,” Benjamin said, “Walter and I have to get going. Lots still to do, as you’ve seen here today.”

  The brothers said a few loose goodbyes as they walked from the room, joining their pace together in lockstep as they made their way towards the elevator.

  “I thought that went well,” Benjamin said. “A few unexpected questions about the push to the cloud but other than that, a good meeting.”

  Walter shook his head as he picked up the pace. “I got a text from my guy at the hotel. Haylie left through the back exit a few minutes ago. She was headed towards the library. This wasn’t the plan. She’s up to something.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Titanhurst—London

  March 10th, 2:32PM

  “Appointments in the Reading Room start in just under thirty minutes,” Caesar said, watching the live stream of security footage on the screens. “We should expect our guest to attempt access during either the first or the last appointments of the day; those are optimal times for entry—periods where the room might be short-staffed or attendants could be getting a bit lazy with security. Let’s keep a wide view for now, test all cameras. I want to make sure we have good coverage across the building.”

  An engineer from the front row pointed up at a smaller screen in the corner. “Let’s put camera sixteen in the big four.” One of the four large LCDs flickered over to the view of the second floor landing directly outside of the Reading Room. “Okay, now camera fifteen. Okay, check twenty-two.”

  Caesar grabbed a fresh cup of coffee as the cameras flipped through different scenes of the museum. He caught a momentary glimpse of a woman heading up the stairs. She had a scarf wrapped around her head and a backpack on her shoulders, but the view quickly switched away.

  It’s early—she must be one of the desk workers.

  “If I had to bet, I’d guess our guy will be here in about thirty minutes for the first appointment. He’ll want to get it over with fast,” Caesar said, turning to face the team. “It’s pretty simple from here. If anyone shows up and asks to see any document related to the Zodiac Club, we’ll grab them and call it a day.”

  > > > > >

  Vector’s Apartment - London

  March 10th, 2:34PM

  With a shriek of sirens flying by, Vector pulled the dark curtains from the edge of the window and peeked out. The police van traveled under his window, scooting down Charlotte Road as bicycles and cars curved out of its path. He slid his hands into his pockets, exhaling, feeling his heartbeat slide back down to normal levels.

  Not for me. Not today.

  A ping rang from across the room as Vector jogged over to his workstation. He looked down at his MacBook plugged into a three-monitor setup tucked neatly into the corner. He checked the notification and nodded to himself; Haylie’s drop box hardware was calling out from its new home in the museum’s hallway, and had just gained access to the network. The box was sending credentials Vector could use to access the Morgan Library’s internal system. It had found the login of a junior admin who had chosen the weak phrase ‘lovebooks’ as his password.

  Vector began running checks of the network and combing lists of file directories and user permissions. He found mostly administrative material; nothing to indicate that the archives’ records were accessible from the VPN. He switched over to a browser and entered the HexMark default address to access the surveillance camera’s admin panel. The screen lit up with a four-paned view of scenes from different rooms, hallways, and exhibits within the Morgan Library.

  Bingo.

  Pulling his phone from his pocket, Vector shot a quick text to Haylie.

  > > > > >

  Morgan Library Reading Room - NYC

  9:40AM

  As Haylie approached the Reading Room door, she caught a view of herself in the reflection of the glass; she saw an expressionless, stoic girl gazing back at her. Feeling a ping in her pocket, she checked the text and saw Vector’s note, knowing that he was now watching her on the hallway camera above her.

  She tested a quick, artificial smile, bending her grin into a few different shapes, trying to find the right expression for a desk clerk temp. Stopping at the glass, she saw a man inside, his head buried in the pages of a thick binder. She knocked lightly, barely making a sound.

  The man’s head rose. He stood from his chair, walking at a brisk pace towards the door while checking his watch. He cracked the door open and spoke through the slot. “I’m very sorry but appointments don’t begin for another thirty minutes or so. You’re welcome to wait downstairs in the lobby.”

  “Actually … yes, I know. I’m not here for an appointment, I’m here to work the Reading Room desk.” Haylie pulled out a crumpled piece of notepaper from her pocket and read the name she had scrawled across the center. “Kristen? Yes, Kristen … called in sick this morning. I’m from the temp agency,” Haylie said with a shy tone, and then quickly glanced around the hallway. �
�Am I … is this the right place?”

  “Of course it is. Come on in.” The man pulled the door open and stood to the side to let Haylie pass. “I’m William, I’m new here today too. I was wondering who was going to be sitting across from me.”

  The smell of old books—hints of vanilla mixed with musty flowers and worn leather—hit Haylie as she glided into the small receiving room, her hands pulling nervously at the straps of her backpack. She saw two workstations positioned on either side of the room, with a path down the middle leading into the Reading Room. The room’s corners held stacks of notebooks and multi-colored binders piled in a haphazard yet accessible fashion. She craned her neck subtly for a better view inside the next door as she followed William to one of the desks.

  “Thanks. My name’s Amber … I’m with Star Staffing,” Haylie said, plopping her backpack down on the desk. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  It had only taken Haylie a few quick Google searches and phone calls last night to locate the name of the woman who was scheduled to be working the desk this morning. Kristen Morris was this month’s clerk, a position that was apparently filled over the course of the year by a patchwork of volunteers and temps. As it turned out, Kristen required exactly $1,000 in cash from Haylie’s emergency bank account that her parents had set up to be convinced that she didn’t need to show up for work today.

  “The Head Librarian was just in here, she’s running around somewhere,” William said with a smile. “I’m sure she’ll be back soon.”

  Haylie slid into the desk’s chair, practicing her fake smile.

  “I hope so,” Haylie said. “I’m really excited to get started.”

  > > > > >

  Titanhurst - London

  March 10th, 2:48PM

  “Who’s this?” Caesar muttered as he looked up to the view of the Reading Room’s reception area. The camera clearly showed Agent Blue chatting with someone on the other side of the room: someone new. Caesar thought it might be the woman he had seen earlier, but from the camera’s angle, he couldn’t tell for sure.

  “It must be the woman working the other desk this morning. Masters student or something,” Sean said. He turned a few pages of his handwritten notes. “Kristen Morris? I think that’s her name.”

  As the rest of the engineering team, now highly caffeinated and dialed in, began preparing their workstations, Caesar asked for the Alpha view to go up on the screens: feeds from the four cameras showing the main entrance, the second floor landing outside the door, the reception area of the Reading Room, and the main Reading Room camera. He kept his eyes on the woman across from Agent Blue, wringing his hands.

  “Let’s look alive. Twelve minutes.”

  > > > > >

  West 23rd Street - NYC

  March 10th, 9:52AM

  “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!” Benjamin shouted as the gridlock of taxis and trucks stood dead still all around them. Their driver’s eyes flicked back towards the brothers in the rear-view mirror.

  Walter shifted in his seat, craning his neck out the open window. His traffic app flashed red across the screen. “This isn’t good—every route is blocked. Construction up at Madison.” He turned to Benjamin. “And what the hell are we going to do when we get there?”

  “We’ll find her. Talk to her. Maybe it’s nothing.”

  “She’s up to something,” Walter said. “We need to keep a low profile when we get there, we don’t want to get recognized. Somebody’s going to take a picture and Instagram it. We’re taking a big risk.”

  Benjamin looked over to Walter, a bead of sweat running down the side of his jaw. “You don’t think I know that? That was the whole reason for getting Haylie to do this in the first place, but I don’t think we have a choice anymore. This was your plan. You screwed this up.”

  Walter took his phone from his pocket, scrolling nervously. “Her text from last night, let’s check that again. Maybe we just misunderstood–”

  Benjamin’s hand flew across the back of the car, slapping the phone from Walter’s hand. It fell to the floor, skipping end-over-end, finally resting at Walter’s feet.

  “We understood just fine,” Benjamin said, tugging at his collar. “She’s on to us. She figured it out. And if we don’t find her before she finds the next clue, we’re done.”

  > > > > >

  Morgan Library Reading Room - NYC

  March 10th, 9:55AM

  Haylie held the five sheets of loose paper in her hands, the title ‘Reading Room Desk Assignment Procedures: Very Important’ staring her back in the face. Trying with everything she had not to roll her eyes, she searched through the check-in procedures, book-handling tips, and coffee break rules for any login credentials to get her into the system, but there was nothing. Checking around the monitor’s frame for Post-It notes with passwords, her focus drifted to William sitting across the room.

  He sat at the desk, perched over his half-opened binder with his eyes fixed on the door. It was strange—he didn’t have the dull daze of a man fighting his way through what was obviously a boring job. He was staring at the door with purpose. He was looking for something, or someone.

  “Who are you?” a woman’s voice boomed from behind Haylie, causing her to jump in her seat.

  Haylie’s hands shot forward as she turned, almost knocking the keyboard off her desk. She looked up to see an older woman perched above her, standing in the entrance to the Reading Room.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you; I’m the head librarian—my name’s Ms. Lindon. I’m always excited to meet new desk assistants. My goodness, it seems like we get so many in here.”

  Haylie pushed her glasses up and inspected the woman. She was conservatively dressed in a lumpy forest green sweater complete with librarian’s glasses, balancing a towering armful of bins and binders. “No, it’s my fault. I should have been paying better attention.” Haylie stood and introduced herself with her new fake name.

  “Well, wonderful. Don’t worry—I’m used to new people in here, we get a lot of that. Let’s get you started,” Ms. Lindon continued, placing the bins down on the table to shake hands with Haylie. “It’s pretty simple, really. We’ve got the list of guest appointments over there on the wall. Most people that come in here know the rules in advance, so you shouldn’t get much trouble from anyone. No cell phones, laptops, pens or pencils—anything that could record or take a picture—is allowed in the Reading Room. Now come with me for a quick minute.”

  Ms. Lindon led Haylie out of the receiving area and into the main Reading Room. Haylie spun a quick circle to get her bearings. She saw eight tables crafted from elegant, light-colored wood arranged across the room, each featuring two soft-white reading lamps. Surrounding them on all sides were volumes of books—rows and stacks filling the walls—behind locked cabinets, their spines visible through the security glass. Above her, a glass-encased second floor walkway framed the walls of the room from all sides and hung over the tables below. The room was deathly quiet and completely still of any life.

  “When you’re assisting guests, the volumes are organized based on the Dewey Decimal system, of course. We’ve mapped out the key locations in the room.” Ms. Lindon pointed over to a small, printed map indicating the range of volumes that could be found in each row. “Now, most of the materials are actually located over in the original library, which is much larger. Have you been over there?”

  Haylie nodded, recalling the Morgan’s private library and its towering walls, the tapestry, and the three tiers of balconies.

  “Good. Here’s your key. This will give you access to any of the cases, and there’s a swipe card attached for the doors.” She handed Haylie the set of keys with a pale white card hanging from the ring. “There’s a walkway to the top floors of the private library right up these stairs.”

  Ms. Lindon led Haylie back into the reception area. “You can search anything in the archives on the computer system here at your desk,” Ms. Lindon said, “but I’ve asked William
to take lead with assisting guests this morning. It would be great if you can help during the busier times and return the materials once our guests have completed their appointments.” She handed Haylie a Post-It note with ‘25m0rg4n’ scrawled across the bottom. “Here’s the system password.”

  Finally. Haylie reached for the paper, showing her best poker face.

  “You do….” Ms. Lindon asked with hesitation “You do know how to work a computer, right?”

  Haylie shrugged her shoulders. “I’ll do my best.”

  As the librarian trotted back into the main Reading Room, Haylie turned to her workstation. She scanned the main menu, trying with all her might to make it look like she didn’t know what she was doing. She clicked on single buttons loudly and slowly, cursing occasionally at imaginary mistakes. Paging across the menu to the ‘Search Archives’ function, she typed in ‘Zodiac,’ executed the search, and read the results.

  Her eyes flew from entry to entry:

  -> Libro di Sidrach, 1400

  -> Cursus liborum philosophie naturals, 1494

  -> Zodiake of life, 1543

  -> Mercator map of the starry heavens, 1810

  -> Treatise on the circular zodiac of Tentyra, Egypt 1824

  There was a sudden knock at the door, causing Haylie to jump in her seat once again. Good lord, stop doing that. She turned her head to see a man standing at the glass, clutching a faded blue backpack.

  Haylie looked over to William, who just looked back and shrugged. Don’t worry about it, William, I guess I’ll get that. She tilted her monitor back to face the wall and walked over to the door.