The Vampires Of Livix Twin Pack (Volumes #2 & #3)

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The Vampires Of Livix Twin Pack (Volumes #2 & #3) Page 13

by Smith, J Gordon


  Branoc motioned for them to get out. He popped open the hood. The engine dirty and dusty from the road. He took a pair of nylon prisoner cuffs and tied his phone and Garin’s under the hood. Brett had lost his phone somewhere. Branoc put a rock he toed out of the dirt against the accelerator. The engine roared inches below the dangling and swinging phones. They scrambled up the dry bank and then rippled through the corn like apparitions. Brett could hardly keep up with the two vampires but at last, they stopped. The engine noise faint among the loud rustling corn leaves that waved like blades of grass in the breeze.

  Garin spoke first, “So what do we do?”

  Brett asked, “Well,” he caught a few heaving breaths, “I’m curious why you didn’t take the chips out of the phones so they didn’t work while we talk?”

  Garin answered, “They’d know we conspired. Now they hear the engine and maybe GPS to locate us but we have a few minutes.”

  Branoc said. “Garin, not really a plan yet.”

  “Don’t you have any equipment to trace their call?” asked Brett.

  “Brett, we already went over that and no equipment is available. Vampires have access to a hidden untraceable phone network.”

  “Oh.”

  “Do you have any Red Tape that can help?”

  “No. My group is run from the highest levels but by our nature we don’t exist and cannot get assistance through any channels.”

  “You’re a lot of help.”

  “That’s why I didn’t want to elaborate in the car in front of them.”

  “So we’re back to what can we do?”

  Brett said, “What about deliveries and shipments?”

  “What do you mean?” asked Branoc.

  “Can you get a new supplier or customer and haul things out that way?”

  “No. They wouldn’t have legitimate authorization in or out.”

  Garin said, “But that’s the start though. We could crack into one of the suppliers of something mundane.”

  “Like gloves or chemical supplies.”

  “Yes. And then we get in that way. I suspect the plant relies on the heavy perimeter security and less on anything inside.”

  “But any of those deliveries are small trucks. They said we needed semis and a way to move heavy equipment that’s bolted down to the floor.”

  “Garin, I know you looked into the finances. Do you remember any opportunities?”

  “Not many that makes sense.”

  “The ones we want are outgoing and slipping something big out will be tough.”

  “Ok, maybe this can work: we get in on a small supplies truck and then use regular international cargo shipment containers to send it out.”

  “Why those?”

  “International boxes are closed up after packing and a short bolt is used to seal the doors. That bolt is coded to the contents and if the bolt is removed or switched then they can suspect tampering –”

  “– But the doors on the truck don’t get opened and inspected at the security checkpoints.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Don’t customs officials inspect them on-site at the factory and seal them themselves? That often saves shippers time since the cargo breezes through Customs. That will be risky.”

  “Of course.”

  “What are our targets?”

  “Brett, you’ll need to get a delivery job at Arnold Janitorial Supplies. Branoc or I cannot do it as Ramsburgh Industries already has our pictures and data in their system. Arnold Janitorial has a truck that delivers twice a week based on the invoicing I saw.” Garin added, “One of the guys I went to high school with is a manager there and I can suggest you are looking for a job. You don’t have any criminal records that might come up in a background check against driving?”

  “No. Only a parking ticket at a concert in downtown Detroit that I later paid.”

  “As I suspected. You’re good then.”

  “You already knew that, didn’t you,” Branoc asked.

  “I did a little background checking when I found him hanging around Anna,” Garin shrugged. “The outbound we might want is a company called Shintoau Shippers. They transport a huge amount of containers every day out of that plant. We need to commandeer a few and salt them in. The hard part will be diverting the containers once they leave the plant.”

  Branoc said, “We’ll give the container numbers to the kidnappers and put paint marks on the top of the containers so we can see them from above.”

  “The actual getting equipment loaded will be tricky and we won’t know how to do that until we are inside.”

  “We are giving the kidnappers what they want. At great risk.”

  “We don’t have any information on them yet. Not where they are –”

  “Nor what they want that equipment for.”

  “Brett, we’ll go back into town and I’ll drop Garin off to pick up some burner phones at the supermarket. I’ll get you to your apartment so you can change into interview clothes and show up at Arnold Janitorial. By then Garin should have called the owner and gotten you set up.”

  “I remembered it might not be that easy, Branoc. While I knew the manager in high school his sister had the biggest crush on me and he kind of loathed me for it.”

  “But he got over it in supplying your plant with services.”

  “That’s right. But it could go bad.”

  Brett asked, “You didn’t do anything to his sister did you?”

  “No. Ignored her. Other than my vampire background, I was a normal kid. It’s not until later you realize more relationships are available if you had paid attention. But a kid doesn’t, especially boys.”

  “It’s not exactly a secret about your family wealth, Garin. You’d be attractive as a toad.”

  “Or you held out looking for True Love?”

  “Maybe. I needed a spark.”

  “It’s overrated,” said Branoc, “But enough commiserating since this corn is a long way from being whiskey.”

  -:- -:- -:-

  “You left the other phones at your house?”

  “Along with the cars.”

  The other cardboard boxes wiggled and scrapped against each other. Branoc and Garin sat in the dark inside a huge box labeled toilet paper. They constructed a false lid inside and against the front face that held many little rolls of toilet paper, they took out of other cases in the janitorial warehouse in case anyone wanted to inspect the cargo. Brett drove the delivery van with the big logo of Arnold Janitorial Supplies splashed across every side of the van.

  The brakes squeaked as Brett slowed the van to a stop at the main security gate.

  “You’re a new driver for Arnold. What happened to Tom?” asked the security guard.

  Brett handed him his new identification card and said, “He needed a change of scenery and so has the routes to the South now. Arnold doesn’t want any of us to get bored. Tom told me a change of scenery is almost like getting a promotion.”

  “Yeah, that can really help your mood,” the guard nodded, and then twisted his head, “The Arnold truck already delivered once this week.”

  “Isn’t it on schedule for twice a week?”

  “Nope. Once a week.”

  “Well, what do I know? First day and they only told me I needed to deliver here,” Brett fumbled for the clipboard with its overflowing pages gripped under the clip. “Since I’m over here, why don’t I deliver the stuff and then I’ll deduct it from the shipment next week to keep things even? Could have been an extra order because someone did inventory and found shortages. Not like these are rocket parts. More paperwork hassle for me back at the ranch but saves a trip and no one runs out of toilet paper at an inconvenient time –”

  The guard laughed, “Yeah, we don’t want any of the office girls to get upset over a paper shortage.”

  “That would be the wrong kind of excitement.”

  “That might be a fun story. I’ve been in this booth for twenty-five years and it’s never gotten above being dul
l.”

  “Too much high tech security equipment – creates boredom?”

  “It’s the same around here. I’ve watched those trees grow up from twigs put in when I started here. And the security cameras go from single big boxes to some the size of dimes that send signals anywhere across the grounds on a wireless network.”

  “Dimes? That sounds so James Bond-ish.”

  “Crazy stuff I can’t believe. My daughter is trying to get me on Faceplate. I’ve got a security job so I’m not going there.”

  “Good idea –”

  A semi rumbled off the street into the drive behind Brett’s truck. Heavy with guttural engine braking until the air brake system dragged the truck to a halt. The big engine chugged.

  “– Got to go. That’s a delivery on the hot sheet. You know where you’re going?”

  “Oh, sorry. Yeah. Right here Building HK,” Brett said.

  “Stay in the designated parking spot.” He pulled off his mirrored sunglasses, “And I’m not kidding, the designated area shows where your tires go. No sloppy parking.”

  Brett pushed the clutch in and shifted into second gear. The semi behind him breathed on his rear doors. The little truck lurched forward and bounced against the clutch pads but moved forward faster.

  Brett opened the rear doors and backed the truck closer to the building surface door. The ring of paint on the pavement indicated the required parking location.

  The door swung open and a security guard stood there with a clipboard and pen ready.

  “I thought you’d have a dock for me to back against?”

  “No. You’ll have to move everything through this steel man-door.”

  “I have a few really big boxes that need a fork truck to move – or at least a pallet jack.”

  “You have a regular hand cart?”

  “Yes.”

  “Break down any big packages and wheel them in.”

  “Ah, ok.” Brett said. “Can you show me where this needs to go?”

  “The janitor’s closet.”

  “Better show me the way. This is my first delivery here. I don’t think you want me wandering around looking for it.”

  “That’s right. Come with me.”

  “What’s the plan here?” Garin said. “There must be a dozen cameras looking at every angle around this truck. The doors are open and they could be peering right in here.” He looked out a small hole in the box made by his pen earlier.

  “No plan. I’d think boxing ourselves to fit on a hand cart but the potential for that camera and the number of boxes won’t match the shipping manifest.”

  “– this cart should help with the bigger box. The night janitor will need to fill it up with paper anyway so I’ll save him some handling steps.” Brett banged through the steel door with the rattle wheeled cart.

  Garin saw the utility cart had a rubberized canvas curtain around it, “Brett’s thinking. We’ve got to help though.” After Branoc peered through the small hole, he took his nails and sliced through the cardboard bottom of their hiding box.

  Brett unloaded a few of the rear boxes and piled them on his hand cart exposing the big toilet paper box. Brett carefully slid the box rearward. The two vampires shuffling along inside to match. Brett dragged the box out so it set on the edge of the top of the cart and bridged to the edge of the truck deck.

  “The guard at the front gate said he’s been here twenty-five years, how many for you?”

  “Oh, I’ve been in this building about three years but on the complex for the last ten.”

  “How does one go about getting a job? I imagine the pay is good?”

  “It’s good. If you can handle mostly boring with spurts of danger.”

  “That’s what I hear from the older truck drivers. Mostly dull but accidents on the highway keep you alert. Never know when someone is reading their book while driving – I’ve even seen that.” Brett reached above with his knife and opened the sealing tape on the box. He lifted out rolls from above his head and stacked them carefully on the cart. Then he stepped into the truck and got a couple of heavy boxes he pushed to the rear deck and got down to pile them on the ground. He stood on top so the boxes and his legs shadowed the whole gap on that side.

  The guard said, “instead of standing on those boxes why don’t you cut open the box?”

  “Have you ever seen a box of toilet paper spill out on the ground?”

  “No.”

  “They bounce on the ground and people worry if they are still as clean as if they used them to eat off of.”

  “Yeah,” the guard laughed.

  Branoc and Garin moved carefully. Using their vampire strength with Brett’s prompting they slipped under the cart’s drape without touching the ground and only barely caused the stiff cloth to flutter. Like it did in a strong breeze.

  “And you’re not in a rush to leave for a big project?” Brett asked the guard.

  “No.”

  “Me neither. The boss told me I had better only have this one delivery as it might take most of the day, being new on the job. My first delivery on my first day.”

  “They sent you here for your first delivery? Not a coffee shop or something easy?”

  “No. Trial by fire he said. Good learning here, he suggested. Said if I avoided getting thrown in a holding cell for parking in the wrong spot I’d be ready for any other route he could give me.”

  “You did well getting parked on the grid lines.”

  “Thanks. I practiced. Why so particular about where I park – down to where the wheels go and everything?”

  “Cameras from every angle.”

  “I see. Or rather I should say ‘you see’.”

  “You’re funny. You’ll do all right as a delivery guy.”

  “Thanks.” Brett stepped off the heavy boxes and moved them back on the truck. Then he lifted the toilet paper box and pushed it back into the truck. He walked around, grabbed the handles on the cart, and rolled it carefully toward the building door. The guard opened the door for him and the cart only jounced a little as its big rubberized wheels rolled over the threshold. Brett stopped a few seconds watching the slim stacks of toilet paper wobble precariously. Then he continued. He started sweating from the stress of moving the cart with the heavy dead weights hiding there while seeming to push only paper products. The vampires weighed much more than their normally effortless movement made him expect. He rolled the cart along a narrow hallway of gray painted cement blocks. The wheels moved easily on the highly polished gray cement flooring. Mirrored like the burgundy coffee shop floor at his real job.

  “Let me get the door,” said the guard as he stepped around Brett.

  Brett didn’t expect his movement and the guard bumped his elbow, which banged the cart. Brett spread his body out to corral the stacks of rolls threatening to spill.

  “Oh, sorry!”

  An errant roll bounced off the cart at the corner farthest from Brett and headed for the floor.

  “Got it!” said the guard. He slammed it on the top of the others like throwing down a football in the end zone.

  “Whew! Thanks.”

  “My fault. Let me get that door now.”

  Brett wheeled the cart into the spacious janitor’s closet, “I’ve seen janitor’s closets in school and they always seemed like little closets. This one is spacious. Move some of these storage racks and put in a regular couch and television over there.”

  “That would be frowned upon.”

  “Yeah, I guess it would.” Brett toed the edge of the door as he walked out.

  The vampires crouched in the darkness. They extracted themselves from the cart and fell back into the shadowed corners of the room away from the door. Infrared cameras, if any had been placed here, could only see their cool skin temperature as ghosts shimmering through the camera’s field of vision. Brett wheeled several more boxes with the hand cart, collected his signatures on his various forms, thanked the guard, and left.

  Garin and Branoc watched t
he light under the door from the hall remain undisturbed for hours. The plants and labs ran three shifts and never truly shut down even on the weekends as some special processes took more than a week to set up. Once the process ran satisfactorily, they monitored it continuously until finished since the tests and experiments didn’t care about the weekends or completing at two in the morning. The facility needed people constantly tending it, which posed a problem. The facility never closed its alert eyes.

  -:- Twenty-Three -:-

  “We thought about preparing you some of those ground pigs that scamper about digging holes and dens in the woods and against the house. But this is more efficient, no cooking involved.” My guard shook the canister and pulled the top back on yet another energy protein drink. The chalky, sometimes chocolate, sometimes vanilla flavored drinks had become vile after a few episodes. I didn’t know how anyone consumed them. She lifted the bottom of my hood and poured the contents into my mouth. I learned from previous attempts not to fight her on this. The stuff smelled bad after a few hours on my hood.

  Later that evening, as best I could tell, the door locks snapped back and the door creaked open. Chill air from the garage steps spilled across the floor and lightly caressed my ankles in frigid fingers as the door closed softly.

  I moved my head to draw fresh air and I smelled the sharp edge of Claire’s cologne.

  “Hello … again.”

  “I need to use the restroom.” While my bottom became numb, my bladder squealed at me.

  “Fun. That’s a special chair.”

  I heard another metal bucket, “Oh!” I caught my breath. At least I hoped another bucket. She slid it over from somewhere behind me from the rear of the chair until it banged against the backs of the front feet of the chair.

  Claire lifted my hips with my belt loops, undid the button on my jeans, and in a fluid motion slid my bottom free of my clothes. I heard another scrape and when she set me down, I sat on a toilet seat instead of the hard board of the chair that had already molded my bottom into numbness.

 

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