by Tracy Lawson
He glanced around the room. “So who’s up for a field trip?”
Grace looked at him in surprise. “Field trip? Where?”
“Over the next hill. I know you’d all like a breath of fresh air, and I could use your help with a job. Need to get it done right away.”
“What kind of job?”
“No big deal, really. Just grave robbing in the Carraway family plot.”
Chapter 44
6:00 PM
Quadrant DC-001
Tommy hunched his shoulders against the cold breeze as he trudged over the pedestrian walkway on the bridge across the Potomac River. It was a lot longer walk to the OCSD building than he’d anticipated. Though his ears and nose were numb, the security guard jacket he wore kept most of the frigid air at bay.
He’d snuck out of the safe house without running into Atari. He had no idea if he was somewhere in the building, or if he’d gone out on some clandestine, Atari-like errand. He hoped the note he’d left on the desk in Command Central would adequately explain why he couldn’t wait any longer. If he could sneak his dad out of the building, they could make their escape into the darkness.
He approached the OCSD’s employee entrance, passing the spot where he’d tackled the guard who’d shot Trina with the gun that now rested on his own hip. His nerves hummed with heightened awareness, but he wasn’t nearly as frightened as he’d been the first time he’d broken into the OCSD.
He swiped the ID card in the reader and the door clicked open. Eyes straight ahead, he strode toward the elevator and pushed the button to summon the car.
“Hey! Hey you!”
Tommy tensed and turned around. An older guard motioned him back toward the security stand.
“I’ve been due for a break and my replacement’s late. C’mere and hold the fort with Beatty until I get back.”
“Uhh, sure.” Tommy nodded as the other guard hurried past him and stepped into the waiting elevator car.
John Beatty nodded once. “Sup?”
Tommy returned the nod, intending to keep the conversation to a minimum. Atari could be pretty chatty, but who knew what he was like when he was pretending to be Logan Daniels.
They sat in silence for a few minutes before someone buzzed at the visitor’s entrance. Beatty pushed a button to unlock the door and admit a crew of painters for after-hours work.
“Sign in here.” Beatty turned the computer screen toward them, and one by one they keyed in their names and ID numbers.
He patted down one of the painters, and Tommy copied his movements. When they were done, Beatty printed temporary ID cards for them to clip on their coveralls and then read from a laminated card: “ ‘Please restrict your movements to the area in which you’re working. If you need to venture into another part of the building, you must be accompanied by security. If you are found in a restricted area, you may be subject to arrest.’ Do you understand?”
One of the painters nodded. “We got it.” They gathered their equipment and headed for the service elevators.
Beatty pecked at the computer screen. “Give me the tag numbers on the two you patted down.”
“Huh?”
“The tag numbers. You did tag them, didn’t you? It’s procedure.”
Tommy tried playing dumb. “Dude. I forgot.”
“You gotta remember to tag every visitor, Daniels.” He handed Tommy a piece of stiff fabric about an inch square. “Here. You do the next visitor that comes in. Slip this in a pocket when you pat them down. Otherwise, how can we keep tabs on them once they’re in the building? You know the security cameras are on the fritz.”
Tommy rubbed the fabric between his fingers. “GPS?”
“Yeah.”
“So we keep tabs on visitors for, like, ever?”
“No. The tags are short-range. Only work for a few blocks once you’re out of the building.”
“Oh, yeah. Right.”
Beatty eyed him with suspicion. There were no new visitors, and the tense silence stretched on and on. Tommy scrolled back through the sign-in log. His dad had signed in two days ago, and Kevin had arrived the morning after they’d gone their separate ways in OP-439.
“Weren’t you headed someplace else?” Beatty asked.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. I was.” He was afraid to be more specific.
The older guard was shambling slowly back to the visitor’s entrance. “Here comes Smitty. You can go.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Tommy headed for the elevator and hit the Down button before Beatty could change his mind. On the way to the basement, he stared at himself in the mirrored elevator door, reassuring himself that his disguise was good enough. Hopefully it wouldn’t matter that he’d slipped up a few times.
Though he tried to walk softly, his footsteps echoed in the empty hallway. Why does everything sound louder at night? He rounded the corner past Kevin’s old office and down the familiar corridor to the secure ward. As he unclipped his ID badge, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. He heard a rush of footsteps behind him, and someone slammed him against the wall, twisting his arm behind his back. He dropped the ID badge.
“That wasn’t Smitty.” Beatty’s voice was close to his ear, low and accusing.
“Ow! What the hell are you doing?”
“That wasn’t Smitty. I said, ’here comes Smitty. You can go.’ You agreed. But that wasn’t Smitty.” He applied pressure until Tommy feared his arm would pop out of the socket. “And you’re not Daniels.”
“I wasn’t paying attention, all right? I made a mistake.”
“Oh yeah? Then tell me, how’d you grow four inches overnight? And how’d you get that wicked scar on your chin? Daniels didn’t have a scar two days ago when he and I were on duty together.”
“All right! All right, you got me.” He decided to stall and hope an opportunity to get away from Beatty would present itself. “How did you know where I was going?”
“You’ve still got that visitor tag in your pocket. Duh.”
That stupid tag thing had tripped him up twice. “You’re right. I’m not Daniels, but we look enough alike that I could pass for him—unless I ran into someone who knows him, like you. They gave me his ID when they sent me in on … on a secret mission.”
Beatty relaxed his grip. Tommy winced and rubbed his shoulder as he turned around. He had Beatty’s attention, so he lowered his voice and inclined his head toward the secure ward.
“You know they keep the political prisoners in there. The dissidents. The really dangerous ones.”
“No.”
“Well, then obviously you wouldn’t have known about why I’m here. It’s need-to-know stuff—and who am I to question? I’m just following orders.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“No, I’m serious. C’mere.” He gestured toward the other guard’s ID badge. “Open the door and I’ll show you.”
Beatty swiped his ID twice, but the door remained locked. “Oh, yeah. You must not have clearance.” Tommy stooped to pick up the badge he’d dropped. One swipe and the door opened. Beatty looked impressed and curious enough to follow Tommy into the dimly lit hallway.
He swiped the ID badge again and accessed one of the darkened rooms. Beatty stuck his head inside, and Tommy shoved him through the doorway, sending him sprawling, and pulled the door closed.
The hapless guard rattled the doorknob. When he realized he was locked in, he pounded on the observation window. His shouts, which were likely full of threats and truthful observations about Tommy’s treachery, didn’t penetrate the soundproofing, and Tommy couldn’t resist motioning that he couldn’t hear anything Beatty was saying. Beatty responded with a rude hand gesture, and Tommy grinned and gave a farewell salute.
He hurried down the long corridor, peering in the observation windows and opening doors, but his dad was nowhere to be found. He even checked the dungeon-like room at the end of the hall. The last time he was here, Kevin and Trina had used the forgotten emergency exit there to escape into the p
arking garage next door.
Where had Garrick taken his dad? He’d been stuck at the visitor’s entrance long enough that they could be anywhere. He hurried back down the hall and was reaching for the doorknob when he heard voices on the other side of the door.
“There are no visitors allowed in this area. It’s restricted.”
“But where are they, whoever they are? The tag tracker says they’re right here! There’s no name in the visitor’s log.” Someone rattled the doorknob, and Tommy drew his hand back as though it could bite him. Dammit! He dug the visitor tag out of his pocket and examined it. There was no way to turn it off. He’d have to destroy it—but how?
“They can’t be in there. No one has access to that part of the building.”
Tommy listened at the door until the voices faded and then slipped out of the secure ward as quietly as he could and sprinted down the hall. He ducked into the nearest restroom, which happened to be the women’s, and flushed the tag. Problem solved? He hoped so.
He headed for the emergency stairwell and took the steps two at a time on his way to the fourth floor.
7:25 PM
Quadrant BG-098
“Here. Dig.” Mitch passed a spade to David. Grace held two flashlights pointed in different directions as the members of the Resistance, freed from the underground bunker for the first time in nearly a week, braved the December chill.
“Are you kidding? Exertion isn’t good for my heart, you know.”
“It’s not like you gotta dig six feet down; it’s not even half that. My family never trusted banks. This was their solution.”
“I thought grave robbers only worked at midnight.” David used his foot to help sink the spade into the moist earth.
“This place is so remote no one would see us in the middle of the day. It wasn’t necessary to wait until midnight. Jaycee’s busting to leave, so the sooner we finish here, the sooner she can go.”
David tossed a shovelful of earth aside. “How many generations of your family are we talking about?”
Mitch shrugged. “Four, maybe five.”
Trina, hard at work in the beam of Grace’s other flashlight, pulled a muddy coffee can from a hole in the ground. It rattled as she set it down. “Is this really where you keep your life savings?”
“Quite an inheritance, huh? I’ve never needed it before. I’d better check the map to be sure we’re getting it all.”
David stepped closer to the flashlight beam and opened one of the cans. “Some of these coins are old enough to have some actual silver in them.”
“Oh, I’ve got silver bars—and gold, too. But I need the coins for this plan. Just think how Madalyn will react when she realizes she can’t claim her payment for the formulas without breaking her own law.”
“Surely she’ll figure out a way to deposit the money into her account?”
“Nah. The deadline for submitting cash to debit accounts is long past. She won’t be able to deposit it, and we’ll make sure she gets caught with the contraband.”
Jaycee wiped her cold, muddy hands on her jeans. “This is so lame. I want my own account—something I can use—not a bunch of old coins.”
Mitch looked sad. “I kept you off the grid your whole life for a reason. Once you’re in the system, you could be Linked or subjected to whatever new forms of oppression the OCSD comes up with in the future.”
“Then we’d better not screw up this mission.” She folded her arms on her chest. “I’m sorry, Daddy, but I don’t want to be stuck behind the counter at the diner my whole life, working for barter. I want to be free. I want to see the world. I’ve hardly ever left the quadrant.”
Mitch shook his head. “You’re as free as you can get right now, sweetheart. You just don’t appreciate it.”
Chapter 45
7:37 PM
Quadrant DC-001
The fourth floor hallway was empty when Tommy emerged from the stairwell, and he wasted no time gaining entry to the room where they were holding his father. The suite’s sitting room was dark, but the bedroom door stood ajar, and a lamp within cast a dim glow. He tiptoed across the thick carpet toward the light. His father lay back against the pillows on the bed, eyes closed, arms folded over his chest. For a fleeting second Tommy thought he was dead, but then he saw his chest rise and fall. He approached the side of the bed and touched Tom’s shoulder.
“Dad?”
His father woke with a gasp and rubbed his eye. “What is it?”
“Dad, it’s me.”
Recognition, then anger, swept across his face and he spoke in a harsh whisper. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to get you out.”
“I told you in no uncertain terms when I left BG-098 that I didn’t need your help. Madalyn has been willing to talk about rescinding more Restrictions. She’s agreed to let me see Careen; surely you don’t want me to sneak away in the middle of the night when there’s a chance I can help her.”
“Dad, why would you believe anything Madalyn says? Don’t you see that you’re in serious danger?”
“You’re a fine one to criticize. There are surveillance cameras all over this building! You have no concept of what awaits you if they discover you here. You’re wanted for the university bombing and Wes’s murder, and you’re on the Most Wanted list along with the rest of the Resistance. You’ll be in as much trouble as Careen if someone recognizes you.”
He shook his head. “The cameras don’t work. Obviously, they don’t want you to know that, but one of the guys in the Resistance has been hacking the system so the video feed gets directed to him. Besides, you didn’t even recognize me, did you? I’m not in any danger.” He saw no need to mention Beatty. “What makes you think you can trust the OCSD now? You’ve never been able to before.”
“I have some information about Madalyn that she doesn’t want to go public, and it turns out Chief Garrick is a potential ally. I never thought I’d resort to blackmail, but this kind of leverage will be enough to see me safely on my way. Your heroics are unnecessary.”
Tommy’s anger flared. “I’m part of the Resistance because of you, Dad. Like it or not, you’re stuck with me. Why can’t you just—”
They both heard the click of the lock. Tom gestured toward the bathroom and Tommy hurried inside, leaving the door open a crack. He held his breath and prayed whoever it was wouldn’t need to pee.
“Careen refused to see you.”
He’d heard Madalyn Davies’s voice on television so many times that he would have recognized it anywhere.
“Take me to Careen right now and let her tell me herself, or I’ll assume you’re trying to renege on our bargain.”
“We never had any bargain. I’m afraid there’s nothing you or I can do to change her mind.”
“Perhaps she’ll come around after she’s had a chance to think about it. Meanwhile, we can talk about the best course of action for the OCSD.”
“About that … I don’t think we’ll be needing you as a consultant after all.”
“Maddie, you left me with the impression that we might finally reach some sort of equilibrium.”
“Equilibrium? Ha! You’ve always wanted the lion’s share of the power, Tom. You just have no idea how to take it.”
“Like you? Someone who gained everything she has through deception and lies? You haven’t changed a bit.”
“Don’t act all noble. You haven’t changed either. You aren’t trying to help anyone but yourself.”
“You’re not concerned about your secrets going public?”
“No.” Tommy could hear the triumph in her voice. “Your tiny little time bomb has been deactivated. Looks like you’ve failed again.”
“Now look here—”
“No, you look here. I’m calling the shots now, and I’m not as patient as Lowell was about dealing with you. Did you honestly think your mere presence here would awe us so much we’d call off the search for the rest of the Resistance? Hardly.”
The silenc
e seemed to stretch on forever. Even after Tommy heard a door slam, he stayed frozen against the wall in the bathroom until his dad appeared in the doorway.
“Dad? You know Madalyn Davies?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Does Mom know?”
“Oh, yes. She knows. Madalyn was one of my students. That shouldn’t matter now, but I’m afraid it always will.”
Tommy followed him back into the bedroom. “Dad, seriously. We’re getting out of here now.” His dad hesitated for a second before he grabbed his jacket off a chair and followed.
“This late at night the stairwell’s deserted.” He opened the door and led his father out. Tom kept up until they reached the basement but hung back as Tommy swiped his ID badge through the reader at the entrance to the secure ward.
“Why are we going in here?”
“There’s an exit. Kevin and Trina used it last time.” He didn’t bother to look at the observation window as they passed Beatty’s prison; even if the guard saw them, what could he do about it? Almost there. He rushed his dad up the shadowy stairs, and a blast of chilly air hit them as he opened the door to the parking garage.
Their footsteps echoed in the cavernous space as they hurried up the ramp. His dad whispered, “I don’t think I’ve ever left the OCSD through the regular visitor’s entrance.”
As they emerged at ground level, floodlights powered up at the OCSD building, casting alternating stripes of light and shadows on the garage’s floor and walls. An alarm began to wail outside.
“Is that alarm because of us? Because of you?” He clutched his father’s arm. “Did they pat you down when you first got here?”
“I don’t remember. Oh, wait. Yes, they did.”
Tommy grabbed at the camouflage jacket and tore it off his dad’s back. He plunged his hand into first one pocket, then the other, and found the fabric square. “This is a GPS tracker.”