V 15 - Below the Threshold

by Allen L Wold (UC) (epub)

  “They’ve been planning ahead,” Walter said.

  “They have indeed. Now here’s the interesting thing about this place.” She pointed to a symbol on the plan. “That’s an access to a kind of a loft space above the top floor. It’s my guess that that’s where the transmitter will actually be located.”

  “Sounds reasonable,” Abbot said. “That way they’d have a direct connection to the mast on the roof.”

  “We can be pretty sure, however,” Jenifer went on, “that many of these partitions,” she pointed to thinner lines on both sheets of plans, “will have been moved around and changed. We should be able to get into the lower floor through one of these stairways here, and here. After that, we’ll just have to play it by ear.”

  They discussed possibilities for a moment or two, then Strangways had them open their packets of explosives, showed them how to attach them to different kinds of surfaces, how to set the detonators, and how to time them. “Aren’t we moving awfully quickly?” Jack asked. “We may already be too late,” Walter said. “Annette has been under interrogation for a long time now. She’s strong, but she can’t hold out forever. And when she breaks, over half the fifth columnists in Northampton will be exposed, including myself. And that will happen whether we succeed tonight or not. I’ve already sent word out through the network, to give people a chance to hide or leave before Security starts making arrests. If Annette has talked already, we could be walking into a death trap. But if she hasn’t, this is the only opportunity we’ll have to stop whatever it is Dwight and his collaborators are up to.”

  “Is your arm giving you trouble?” Abbot asked as Jack shifted the straps on his shoulder through the fabric of his jacket and turtleneck.

  “Nothing to worry about,” Jack said. “A couple of the buckles are a little loose, that’s all.”

  “I’ve never seen you adjust that thing before. What happened?”

  “I got a surprise visit from Marty Patrushka this afternoon,” Jack said, and told them about the fight at the hotel.

  “1 don’t like it,” Abbot said. “If that arm’s not working right, maybe you should stay behind.”

  “Not on your life. A couple of the straps are a little , tighter than I’m used to, that’s all. I’ll be all right.”

  “If you say so. All right, we’d better get started. Everybody split up, and we’ll meet at the Pine Street apartments at ten thirty.”

  “Why so late?” Jack asked.

  “Security at the Wagner Building changes then,” Jenifer said. “We want to arrive just after they’ve finished their first round.”

  One by one, the members of the group left until only Jack, Abbot, and Sally were left. “I’m sorry about Emily,” Sally said as they walked to the elevator together.

  “What happened?” Abbot asked.

  “Nothing at all,” Jack said.

  “1 think she’s in love with Marvin Dahlgren,” Sally explained.

  “Sorry, Jack,” Abbot said. Jack just shrugged.

  Traffic was light when they got to the street. By chance, Jack had parked just two cars behind Abbot, less than half a block away, so they walked together. A patrol car passed them going in the same direction, then suddenly turned into a space in front of them and stopped. Both front doors opened and two officers, one a lieutenant, got out.

  “Just hold it right there,” the patrolman said, nervously fingering the flap of his holster. “Aren’t you Dr. Jack Page?”

  Jack stared at him, completely taken by surprise.

  The officers both drew their guns. The lieutenant was smiling. “You’re all three under arrest,” he said. “What’s the charge, officer?” Abbot asked politely. “Suspicion of murder,” the lieutenant said. “Espionage. Consorting with the enemy. ” He stood just off the curb while the patrolman came up to them and motioned them to go stand facing the wall. Jack thought about the package of explosives he was holding, and the two guns in his pockets.

  Abbot and Sally, with their hands up, were moving very slowly, as if they weren’t sure just what it was the patrolman wanted them to do. “Come on," the young officer said. “Get over there and put your hands up against the wall.” Jack, taking his cue from his two companions, made to comply but did not hurry. Behind him, he heard the lieutenant speak into the patrol car’s radio mike.

  “LeGrange here,” the lieutenant said. “Send a car to the comer of Laurel and Wade. We’ve got Jack Page.”

  Jack, by this time, had positioned himself as instructed, with Abbot and Sally to his left. The patrolman, still holding his gun, started frisking him down the left side. He found Jack’s gun almost immediately. He tried to take it out of the jacket pocket, but the gun snagged on the fabric.

  Abbot reacted at once. He pushed himself away from the wall, grabbed the patrolman by the front of his uniform, and threw him across the sidewalk into Lt. LeGrange, who was just then coming over to help. At the same moment, Sally started running toward a nearby alley entrance, and Jack belatedly followed, with Abbot right behind him.

  One of the officers fired just as they reached the alley mouth. Abbot spun and, drawing his Visitor laser, took quick aim and fired. The shot passed between the two officers and struck the radiator of the patrol car, blowing the hood open. Then he sprinted into the alley after Jack and Sally, who were halfway to an L corner.

  Sally careened around the comer, Jack pulled up short to look back while drawing his laser, and saw Abbot coming toward them at a full run. At the alley mouth, the two officers were standing with their arms extended. There were three or four shots and Abbot went down.

  Jack fired back once, then turned to grab Sally, who was coming back to find out what had happened.

  “Let me go,” she cried, and half dragged him around the comer. The patrolman was just a dozen yards away, with his back to them, watching as Lt. LeGrange, standing over Abbot’s body, pumped round after round into the fallen man.

  Jack grabbed Sally as hard as he could without losing his hold on his gun, and pulled her back. She resisted for just a second, and then turned toward a recessed door. It was unlocked, and they went through, closed it behind them, and found themselves in a commercial kitchen.

  They hurried toward the swinging doors at the front of the kitchen, but when they went through they emerged into a service area instead of a restaurant as Jack had expected. Jack pulled Sally to the right, and they walked quickly up a back hallway toward the front of the building. Before they got there they passed another door on the right, and Jack opened it. Beyond was the mouth of the alley through which they had just come. They could see Abbot lying halfway to the L, beyond which they could hear the two officers running and trying doors. As quickly as they could, they left the alley, got into Jack’s car, and as they drove off, Sally at last broke down.

  File Twenty-five: Friday Night— Saturday Morning

  They had nearly an hour to kill. Sally was sobbing hysterically, and Jack wasn’t feeling too cheerful himself. To take them as far away from the scene of Abbot’s murder as he could, he drove to the shopping center near the Berry Avenue house.

  He found a parking place surrounded by other cars, and they sat there until Sally was able to gain some kind of control of herself. When she finally stopped crying they walked over to the McDonalds for a couple of cokes which they brought back to the car. They didn’t talk, there wasn’t much to say. At quarter after ten Jack pulled out of the parking lot and drove up to the apartment building on Pine.

  Everybody else was already upstairs, and ready to go. “Where’s Abbot?” Jenifer asked.

  “Dead,” Jack said. “Lt. LeGrange saw us on the street, just outside the office building, and tried to arrest us. We ran. Abbot was hit, and LeGrange shot him to death.”

  The room was silent with the shock of the news. Orson Strangways was the first one to break the spell.

  “I’m not going with you tonight,” he said.

  “Why not?” Jack asked.

  “Douglas Abbot was the
only man I ever took orders from,” Strangways said. “I’m not going to change that now. ”

  “Come on, Orson,” Walter said. “We’ve got a job to do.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Orson’s right,” Samuel said. “Without Abbot, we’re lost.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Jack said. “There’s a whole city at stake.”

  “To hell with it,” Jenifer said, struggling to control her emotion. She stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

  “I can’t believe this,” Pedro said. “If we give up now, Abbot will have died for nothing.”

  “If we try to do this job,” Strangways said, “we’ll all die for nothing. I wouldn’t trust anybody but Abbot to bring us out alive.”

  “Or get us in alive,” Samuel said.

  “You’re wrong,” Sally said, speaking for the first time since Abbot’s death. “And besides, there’s too much at stake—like Jack said, a whole city.”

  “Freeport’s gotten through tougher times than this,” Strangways said.

  “You’re wrong,” Sally said again. “I told you about these subliminal broadcasts. That’s what’s making you give up, that’s been making all of us less dedicated than we should be.”

  “If it’s true,” Samuel said, “it might work on you, but what about me? Would that ELF stuff have the same effect on me and Walter as it does on humans?”

  “You’re just frightened, Samuel,” Walter said.

  “That’s true, frightened so much that I just can’t go through with it.” He and Strangways walked stiffly to the door. As they left, Jenifer came back in.

  “I’m sorry, Jack,” she said, handing him the maps. Then she left again.

  “Can we do it?” Walter asked. “Just the four of us?” “We know where it is,” Pedro said. “We’ve got enough explosives, I think.”

  “We’ve got to do it,” Sally said. “If those ELF signals can make Jenifer give up, think what they’re doing to the rest of Freeport.”

  “We can only die trying,” Jack said, “and once Annette breaks, if she hasn’t already, we’ll be as good as dead.” “Then let’s do it,” Pedro said. “Even if we die trying, we’ll mess up Dwight’s scheme, maybe set him back enough so that somebody else can try to stop him.” Jack was the only one with a car. As they drove toward the Wagner Building, everybody kept watch for police cars, and Jack avoided them whenever he could. At last they pulled into the underground garage below Freeport’s tallest building. Using Jenifer’s plans, they found a back entrance and went in.

  File Twenty-six: Saturday Morning

  It was a freight entrance, with corridors leading into the basements, and a double-wide elevator that worked only with a key. Sally took a small device like a calculator from the pocket of her blouse.

  “This is one of Orson’s little tricks,” she said. She placed it against the elevator lock and touched several buttons on the device’s front. Numbers lit up on the LED display. She touched more buttons. The lock clicked, and they could hear the elevator, coming down.

  The control panel inside the elevator had buttons for every floor except the one at the very top. They went up as high as they could. When the elevator stopped at last, the doors hissed open to reveal a broad, dimly lit service corridor.

  There was a stairwell on either side of the elevator shaft.

  The one on the right started there, and only went down. They took the other one up to the topmost floor, but it did not go to the loft space above it. They would have to find another way to the transmitter.

  The corridor here was like the one on the floor below. The lights were dim, and it was very quiet. Jack checked the plans to find out where they were. Everything seemed to correspond so far.

  “Let’s try this way,” Jack said, tracing a route on the plan that would lead them to the area where the ceiling access to the transmitter loft was symbolized.

  They went, as quietly as possible, from the service corridor to a cross hallway, up that to a series of large rooms which were equipped in much the same way as the Fairfield studio had been but with more modem equipment, and from there to a public lobby, empty now, near the center of the building.

  The access symbol was over against the far wall of this room, but the way to the loft above the top floor was not a pull-down ladder, as Jack had expected. Instead, there was a door marked “Stair.”

  “It’s not the first thing they’ve changed,” Walter said softly as Sally tried the knob. “If they go up there a lot, it makes sense that they would replace the ladder to make it easier for them.”

  Sally quickly got the door open. The stairs beyond went down as well as up. They started climbing, Jack and Walter right behind Sally. Then two armed Visitors appeared at the top of the stairs, their heavy weapons drawn.

  “I’m sorry,” Pedro said from behind them, and Jack turned to see him with his gun drawn, too. “This is as far as you go.”

  The guards above them started to descend. There was nothing they could do but return to the lobby. Pedro backed away, and was joined by two other guards, as heavily armed as those on the stairs.

  “We’ve been waiting for you,” one of the guards beside Pedro said, “ever since you paid that visit to Hickory in Northampton.”

  The four guards, with Pedro assisting, quickly searched Jack, Sally, and Walter, relieving them of their explosives, guns, and even pocket knives. They did not overlook the folded photocopies which Jack was still carrying in his inside jacket pocket.

  “Let’s go down instead of up,” the guard who had spoken before said, gesturing to the stairwell. Another guard backed down ahead of them, and Pedro came down with the last.

  At the floor below they were herded along several corridors to a small, stark office, containing only a desk. Behind the desk, Dwight sat with an expectant expression on his nordic face. Standing beside him was Lewis.

  “Please come in,” Dwight said as they all crowded in front of the desk. “Only four?” He looked at Pedro, who holstered his gun. “Or three? I had thought there would be more of you.”

  “There should have been,” Jack said.

  “Yes, but then, Douglas Abbot, at least, has been accounted for. It would appear that his death did not deter you in any way.”

  “Not at all,” Sally said.

  Dwight chuckled. “Rather audacious of you,” he said, “to think you could get away with coming here like this.” “We got Emily Velasquez out of that prison of yours,” Jack reminded him.

  “Indeed you did, and that was very well done, too. I have to admire you. The facility has been abandoned, of course. But then, it was not a very important facility in the first place, just a testing lab. We are far more careful about who comes and goes here.”

  “They were better equipped this time,” one of the guards said, holding up one of the packages of explosives. “I think they were going to try to blow us up.”

  “Ambitious, as well as audacious,” Dwight said, smiling as if he were amused.

  Another guard put the folded and wrinkled photocopies down on the desk. Dwight opened them up and looked at them. “Miss Velasquez took more than three pictures,” he said.

  “These were the only ones with you in them,” Jack answered, trying to keep his voice as light as Dwight’s.

  “And there are copies,” Dwight went on.

  “The originals are in a safe place,” Jack told him.

  “So are the negatives. We found them in Miss Velasquez’ darkroom at her office, almost immediately. And we’ll find the originals, too.”

  “I don’t think so,” Jack said. “You haven’t subverted everybody. ”

  “Perhaps not just yet, but we will have, shortly. Our experiment has been proving highly successful. And if you’re here, with explosives, and trying to get into the loft above the top floor, then I can only assume that you have a rather good idea of what that experiment involves.”

  “Subliminal messages superimposed on TV broadcasts,” Jack
said.

  “I think you know more than that,” Dwight told him. “You’ve proven too dangerous an opponent for me to risk underestimating you.” He smiled again, and Jack felt the irony of his capture only too clearly. “But I wonder,” Dwight went on, “just how much do you really know?”

  “Not as much as I’d like,” Jack said. “I know you took advantage of Vanessa Carpentier, when she built your Northampton studio for you, to pump her of everything she knew about subliminal broadcasting and multiple signal transmission. And I know you’ve been augmenting your broadcasts from here by using ELF in some way. The details are hardly important at this point. What I don’t know, and what I have never understood, is what Vincent Kline, or Charles Anthony Oswald have to do with all this.”

  “It’s really not that mysterious,” Dwight said, “and you’re so close to the answer I’m surprised you can’t see it. Between them, Kline and Oswald represent almost the entire power structure of Freeport. And it’s that power structure that I intend to turn to my—to Northampton’s advantage.”

  “You have to understand,” Lewis said. “Freeport is the only wholly human controlled city of any size in our part of the country. The red dust keeps us away from the industrialized north. Freeport’s very existence is an insult to us. I always felt ambivalent about living here, even when I was out of favor and branded as a traitor.”

  “You don’t know how many times,” Dwight said, “some overly ambitious young officer has suggested that we just invade Freeport, take it over by force. They fail to realize the significance of the balance of power between our two peoples. If Lewis finds Freeport’s existence an insult, we know all too well that your government in the northern part of the country finds it a source of pride. If I—or anybody in Northampton—tried to simply invade, there would be retaliations from your people, and censure from ours for endangering the uneasy truce that now exists between us in this part of the country.”