by Arno Joubert
CHAPTER SIX
Alexa eased the car onto the wide highway and gunned the gas. The V-8 engine whined with a guttural roar. “So, you honestly think Latorre’s alive?” Neil asked, slamming a magazine into his Glock.
“Mary-Lou seems to think so,” she said. Her knuckles were white on the steering wheel; they were doing well over a hundred. She glanced sideways at Neil. “But why did he come here?”
Neil shook his head. “Money, it’s the only possible reason.” He slid the pistol into a shoulder holster. “Fitch probably offered him a deal he couldn’t refuse, like he tried to do with me.”
Alexa pursed her lips. Her face felt warm. “Probably why Fitch said Latorre was dead.”
Neil squinted, scanning the road ahead. The sun blazed down from a cloudless sky as hazy apparitions shimmered and danced on the blacktop a mile ahead. “Alexa,” he said, resting his hand on her leg. His eyes locked onto her face.
She glanced at him. “What?” she said with some asperity.
“Calm down.” He sighed loudly and sat back in his seat. “You need a clear head.”
She grunted. “Wait until I get my hands on that conniving son of a bitch.”
He squeezed her leg. “What’s the plan?” he asked, looking straight ahead, obviously trying to take her mind off Latorre.
Alexa slowed down as they approached a tanker truck and then powered her way past it. “We need to get the Trojan onto the mainframe as Frydman requested.” She looked in her rearview mirror as the truck receded into the distance. “Colonel Frydman sent me the floor plans, as well. He reckons the most likely place for a computer center would be somewhere in the refinery’s basement.”
Neil nodded. “Okay, we treat this as an in-out operation.” He focused on Alexa with a penetrating stare. “No dawdling along the way, okay?”
Alexa glanced his way but said nothing.
Neil grabbed her arm urgently. “Calm down, Alexa! You’re letting your emotions get in the way.”
She stared at the road ahead but didn’t say anything.
Neil pursed his lips and slouched back into the seat. “Just calm down.”
Dr. Joseph Ryan studied the oil billionaire as he paced around the office, his hands behind his back.
The man had changed. A lot. Ryan had witnessed his transformation from a joke-cracking, free-spirited wanderer to a power-hungry womanizer during the past thirty years. Money didn’t grow on trees, but it sure as hell oozed from the porous depths at Dabbort Creek. And Fitch had sucked it all up like a like a leech.
Fitch swung around and faced him. “What exactly do you mean, Joseph?”
Dr. Joseph Ryan shrugged. “Exactly what I said, Anderson. I can’t do this anymore. I coped with the extortion and all the lies.” Ryan closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “But when you started killing people to keep your dirty little secret, I started doubting your intentions.”
Fitch threw his hands in the air. “My dirty little secret?”
Ryan nodded and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
Fitch leaned closer, his hands on his knees. “It is our dirty little secret, Ryan,” he said with a throaty drawl. He stood up and grinned. “Don’t you ever forget that.”
Ryan shook his head slowly. “You have blood on your hands. I want out.”
Andy Fitch studied him for a moment, the corner of his mouth turned up in a faint smile. “Again, all these contradictions, Joseph.”
“I haven’t killed anyone!” Ryan shouted vehemently.
Fitch raised an eyebrow. “Not directly, no.” He coughed and wiped his mouth with the side of his hand. “But you didn’t try to stop the killings either, did you?”
Ryan looked down, his throat constricting. “I never approved.” He shook his head. “All of this was so unnecessary. How long have we known each other, Anderson? Thirty years?” He stood up as the anger welled up inside him. “All of this, I built it for you,” he said, his teeth bared.
Fitch’s eyes widened, momentarily taken aback. Then he shook his head, his lips pursed into a determined line. “There’s no way out, Joseph.”
Fitch’s phone rang and he flipped it open. His leathery features tightened as he listened to the person at the other end. “You sure it was them? Where?” He nodded, his lips pursed as he listened. He disconnected the call and glanced around distractedly. “Shit.”
He strode out of the office, slamming the door behind him.
Ryan let out a deep breath. He didn’t think anything bad would happen to him. He was the only person who knew the operational intricacies of the refinery and plant. And he was the only one who knew their shared little secret. No, he was certain Fitch wouldn’t delegate control to anyone else; he was still safe.
His anger had vanished and now made way for an intense, claustrophobic feeling of being trapped. Trapped by circumstances beyond his control, like a fine web was being woven around him and choking him, forcing the air from his lungs.
And the spider weaving the web was a pretty Interpol agent named Captain Alexa Guerra.
Alexa slowed down and maneuvered the car onto a side road leading into the forest. They bounced and rattled over the potholes in the dirt track and then the forest opened up and she eased the Chevy into the clearing.
She studied the map on her cell phone. “Okay, we’re three miles out,” she said, scanning the forest. “We can use the trees over there for cover, up to the edge of the refinery.”
They climbed out and walked up to a fence at the edge of the clearing that had been overgrown with a trumpet creeper. Gripping the fence, Alexa peered down.
The view was breathtaking. Far below, the Dabbort River lazily wound its way to a large, shimmering expanse of water, tucked between two dales covered by a leafy forest. She examined the rickety fence. Its primary function was to stop viewers from falling down the cliff to the rocks below. It wound along the edge of the steep rock face and disappeared into the dense forest. Small animals and forest critters had formed footpaths next to the fence line.
Pulling her backpack on, Alexa started heading down the pathway leading to the refinery. “Let’s go.”
The thick canopy of trees thinned out as shafts of sunlight pierced the cool shadows. Alexa noticed the edge of the golf course behind the screen of trees. Crouching in the trees, Neil scanned the area. He glanced over at Alexa, who nodded and then dashed to the cover of an ash tree and ducked behind it for cover. They made their way, running from tree to tree, signaling to each other when the coast was clear.
Soon they reached the twelve-foot fence on the eastern edge of the refinery plant. Large Douglas pines provided ample cover from being noticed by guards in the tower two hundred yards to the west.
Alexa removed a coil of brown wire from her backpack and then wove the wire through the fence with a pair of plastic tweezers, forming a wide arch. She cut it at the bottom of the fence, stripped the ends of the wire, and nodded.
Neil clipped an energizer to the exposed wires and another onto the fence, outside the arch Alexa had made with the looped wire. He flipped a switch on the energizer and checked the current inside the arch with a voltage tester. He nodded. “Okay, ready.”
Alexa removed fencing pliers from her backpack and then cut the wire inside the bypass circuit they had created to form a wide hole. Neil pulled the fence back, and they scrambled through the hole. The second fence wasn’t electrified, and Alexa swiftly cut through it as well. They wriggled through, and Neil pulled it back in place to look as inconspicuous as possible.
Edging to the side of the refinery building, Alexa peered around the corner. The guard in the tower was scanning the horizon with his binoculars. He lowered them and then turned around to talk to another guard. He wasn’t looking to the inside of the fence; his focus was on catching people breaking in.
They hunched down next to the wall and sidled to a metal door. An electronic card reader was affixed next to the door, exactly as Major Sal Frydman had predicted.
Alexa gave the okay sign, watching the guards closely. Neil unscrewed the bottom of the reader and twisted two wires together. A green light blinked on the reader, and the door clicked open.
Alexa scampered inside, scanned the room, and signaled all clear, Neil following and closing the door behind them. They were in a sparsely-lit, cavernous space. The metal landing they stood on was barricaded by a rusted steel railing, and Alexa had the eerie feeling of being suspended a hundred feet above ground. The smell of oil and grease and burning plastic permeated the air; she heard the sounds of water dripping and steam hissing from somewhere far below. She plugged her GLD into her phone and examined the screen and then looked around. A steep metal stairwell led into the inner bowels of the refinery.
“This way.” She grabbed the handrails and slid down, landing with a soft thud at the bottom. Once she had cleared the area, Neil followed behind.
They went down another two flights of the metal stairwell, Alexa leading the way. She took a left into a short passageway and then stopped in front of a grey fireproof door in a cramped concrete room. A naked light bulb on the ceiling flickered on and off.
Neil leaned closer and tapped a thumb-scanner unit mounted on the wall beside the door. They glanced at each other and grinned. “Where do they get this old shit?”
Alexa fumbled in her backpack, pulled out a multitool, and then worked on prying the housing from the scanner unit. She ripped out the thumb scanner and then shorted the two wires. Again, the door clicked as the magnetized locking mechanism disengaged. “Candy from a baby,” she whispered, pushing the door open.
“Careful,” Neil whispered. “Some babies bite.”
Alexa frowned at Neil.
He shrugged. “Alligators?”
Shaking her head, she marched inside, her Glock held ready. Cool air whooshed in from invisible air conditioners. She pointed to a hose connecting a tap to a twenty foot watering trough, keeping it full. “What the hell?”
Three ocelots crouched in front of the trough, lapping up water from the dispenser. Two more sat in a corner, grooming themselves. One of the animals glanced up and trotted toward them. Alexa crouched and held out her hand. The ocelot walked closer, sniffed at it, then rubbed his chin on her finger as Alexa scratched the cat behind his ear. Alexa stifled a laugh as the cat rolled onto his back and gripped her hand playfully.
Neil pointed his gun at a narrow passageway at the far end of the room. “Where does that go?”
Alexa looked up and shrugged. “Dunno, but this is a weird place to put a computer room.” She sauntered toward the tunnel and hunkered down, peering inside. Pieces of crushed, white gravel were sprinkled at the entrance. A faint light was visible at the end of the narrow opening.
She glanced over her shoulder. “I’m going to have a look”
Neil glanced around nervously. “Be careful. This place is giving me the heebie-jeebies.”
She sank onto her stomach and leopard-crawled into the tunnel. Eight feet in, she came face to face with another cat. She shooed it away with her hand and headed for the opening forty feet ahead.
As she came closer, more of the crushed sand piled up in the tunnel. A strong scent of ammonia filled her nostrils and she decided to breathe through her mouth. As she crawled forward, the tunnel opened into a small room and her suspicions were confirmed.
To the side of the room, she noticed a metal door with a transparent plastic cat flap at the bottom. Yet another cat entered the room. Leaves and foliage were visible outside through the small opening.
She crawled back into the tunnel and made her way back to where Neil was waiting. She stood up, finally able to breathe through her nose again.
Neil pinched his nose. “You smell terrible. What was in there?”
Alexa dusted her chest and stomach and grinned. “A giant kitty litter box.”
Alexa studied the map on her phone and looked around, orienting herself. She glanced back at Neil, who closed the door behind him and stamped his feet to get rid of the small pieces of white stone that had lodged in the fine recesses of his soles.
“C’mon, it’s not that bad,” Alexa whispered with a mischievous smile.
Neil grinned and scrunched up his nose. “You stink.”
She punched his shoulder and then turned toward the door. “Let’s go. There’s another room we should check out.”
They made their way back up the two flights of metal stairs, their footsteps clanging up the stairwell. Alexa headed east and entered a metal walkway with handrails that led into the dark, giving the impression that it hung suspended in midair. She stood still and cocked her head to the side, listening intently. It was deathly quiet.
Alexa felt for a penlight in her backpack and swung the beam in an arc in front of them. Giant gantry cranes stood motionless to their left. Their footsteps reverberated down the walkway as they strode forward. A hundred yards farther, they stepped up to what looked like a large metal cage. A sliding door made from wire mesh blocked their access to the room.
Neil examined the modern Century Systems keypad beside the door. “That’s stupid, having access control when we could just as easily cut through the wire.”
Alexa shook her head. “Don’t think so.” She wrapped her sleeve around the base of the flashlight and touched the wire lattice. Sparks erupted from the base of the metal flashlight. “It’s a Faraday cage.” She shone the light around the structure. “Probably built to protect the equipment inside from electromagnetic pulses.”
Neil shrugged and took a step back to kick the door in, but Alexa held him back.
“Hang on, there could be an alarm connected to the fence.”
She shone her Mag-Lite on the keypad and examined it closely. The paint on the first four keys was slightly faded. Alexa punched a sequence of digits from one through to four. Nothing happened. She punched in four, three, two, and one, and something clicked, and the magnetic lock released the door. It slid open, and Alexa smiled at Neil. “Lucky guess.”
They entered the wire cage as an overhead light switched on automatically. The server’s CPU tower and another unit, probably a backup, stood in a corner. Metal racks containing reels of tape stood in neat ranks, filling the entire room. She strode toward the server and kneeled in front of it. Using the multitool, she managed to snap open a panel in front of the server to reveal its drive bay and USB ports. She stuck the USB drive into a slot, held in the power button, and turned the machine off.
A green light flashed on the backup machine as it whirred into life, taking over the processing load from its partner. Alexa switched on the main server again, and after a few seconds, hundreds of lines of text scrolled over the screen as Frydman’s rogue program infected the boot sector of the machine. The word “COMPLETED” blinked on and off.
She removed the small thumb drive and nodded, satisfied. “Okay, that should do it.” She switched the server back on, and it booted up normally. “The rest of the mission is up to Frydman.”
They headed out of the server cage and exited the door. Neil slammed it shut, and they backtracked the way they had come, finally arriving at the door that they had used to enter the refinery.
Neil cracked it open and crept along the wall to the corner of the building as Alexa followed close behind. He peered around the corner and formed a fist, telling her to freeze. He grabbed his right wrist and then made a scratching motion with his fingers.
Enemy ahead. And a dog.
And then a siren started with a high-pitched wail.
Neil whipped around and pushed his arm protectively against Alexa, pinning her against the wall. She didn’t think twice. She leaped forward and bolted toward the guard who stood in front of the hole in the fence. He spun around, his two-way radio lifted to his mouth, speaking urgently.
She struck the man on the throat with a straight arm. He went down in a crumpled heap, clutching his windpipe. The dog sat on his haunches, panting, looking up at Alexa and Neil.
Good boy.
T
hey scrambled through the hole, and Alexa peered over her shoulder as five men with barking guard dogs came racing around the corner.
Gunshots barked as they barreled across the golf course, divots of lawn flying into the air as the shots exploded into the ground around them.
“These guys aren’t kidding,” Neil shouted, glancing over his shoulder.
They made it to the safety of the forest as bullets shrieked over their heads, stitching holes into the tree trunks. Neil found cover behind a large oak and then peered through the foliage, ducking back as another salvo of bullets slammed into the bark. “Shit. Dogs!” he shouted, removing the Glock from its holster.
“No, Neil,” Alexa shouted, shaking her head.
“Shit, Alexa, this isn’t a game. Those were live rounds.”
Alexa shook her head firmly, pursing her lips.
“Screw that,” Neil said and crouched, aiming his gun. The nozzle of the Glock spat fire as Neil emptied the magazine.
A dog yelped, but another sped toward them, growling and barking. The animal was ten yards away before Neil could slam another magazine into his pistol and finish him off.
Alexa glanced back mournfully as Neil jumped up, grabbing her hand, and they scrambled along the fence toward the car. After a mile, Alexa heard the men stumble through the forest behind them. They had veered off and were heading north, trying to cut them off at the road.
She peered ahead through the foliage. The clearing was a hundred yards away. They were going to make it.
Neil saw Alexa stumble into the clearing, making her way along the fence to her left. Their Chevy was parked up ahead, and she scampered toward it, stumbling and then regaining her balance. He was twenty yards behind her, his breaths exploding from his chest in painful rasps. He was getting too old for this shit.
He sucked in a breath and then stopped as he saw Alexa backpedal, her hands held in the air in a defensive gesture. She held her hand out in front of her, her palm out, and then she turned her head and squeezed her eyes shut. A gun barked, and Alexa pirouetted as a slug slammed into her shoulder. She stumbled backward and landed on her bottom, her knuckles pushed into the ground behind her for support.