“I’m freezing my ass off,” J.J. rubbed his hands together to keep the circulation going.
“Turn the heater on,” Mitch stated the obvious.
“Are we going to be here much longer?”
“Another half hour or so. You know, I just finished cooking this great stir-fry.”
J.J. reached over to the car dashboard and changed the settings to warm.
“Why can’t we go into the lab we booked while we wait?”
“Because I need to work out what we’re doing and who’s doing it, and I don’t want any of us recognized yet.”
“So, what did John say when he called?”
“He said they’ve accounted for everyone on the tape except for one guy; probably their British partner. John’s panicking. He wants us to lift whatever info we can to find out what’s happening in there. So, an orchestrated evacuation has been scheduled for eight,” Mitch read J.J.’s blank expression, “a fire drill.”
“Right.”
“We’ll go in while they’re coming out.”
“He didn’t waste any time getting that happening.”
“The more impromptu the better; less chance it will leak. Plus, if we wait until after their shift, they’ll take material with them. Johan’s been carrying a case in all the video footage. Nick’s the same. I’m hoping they’ll leave it there during the raid.”
“What if they don’t all come out?” J.J. asked.
“That’s the risk we take. That’s why we’re here early, to see how many arrive tonight. Only been two so far.”
“The female and Johan?”
“Yeah.”
J.J. pulled out a thermos.
“Coffee, decaf, tea or herbal tea?”
“Geez, what are you, a walking espresso bar? Coffee, white, thanks.”
Mitch sat up straight and pointed to the building. “There’s Nick. It’s a full house unless they’re expecting guests.”
“Cream or plain cookie?”
Mitch surveyed the selection and reached for a chocolate cream.
“Thanks, you can come on surveillance anytime.” He took the offered coffee and turned his attention back to the building.
Sitting in silence, they drank their coffees and waited. Mitch glanced at his watch, fifteen minutes had passed. J.J. slid down making himself comfortable. Another glance at the watch and across at J.J. who was drifting off to sleep in the warmth of the car.
Mitch jolted upright as the first alarm wailed.
“Let’s go, J.J.”
“Man! OK.”
Mitch bolted from the car. He looked back to check J.J. was behind him. They strode to the side of the building as the fire alarm kicked into a full-on scream. The exit doors automatically unlocked and Mitch slipped in through the side door, holding it ajar for J.J. He waited for his eyes to adjust as the house lights went off and the generator floor lighting flickered on.
Crouching, Mitch and J.J. waited underneath the stairs. Mitch watched as the security guards hustled everyone out. He could hear a heavily-accented male voice complaining about having to leave. Finally he saw the three from the main lab cross the walkway and exit through the door with the security guard behind them.
“We’ve got fifteen minutes so we want to be out in ten. The firemen are ours, but they can’t stall forever,” Mitch said leaping to his feet and hoisting himself up again to the landing in a repeat performance of the previous night. He moved out of the way as J.J. followed suit.
They arrived at the main lab and Mitch swiped his card in the slot. The door wouldn’t open.
“Shit! It won’t open with the building on emergency alert. OK, think!” The alarms continued to wail. “J.J., you’re the expert … what do you suggest?”
“It’ll take a few minutes to pick, or we can break the glass window.”
“We don’t have a few minutes and we can’t break the glass; they’ll get suspicious and relocate. I can’t lose them. We need a master key.”
“Hang on.”
Mitch watched as J.J. headed to the tape room and swiped his card. The green light flashed, the lock clicked opened.
“What the …? Gloves!” Mitch snapped before J.J. put his hand on the door. They both slipped them on.
“The security area should override all areas … makes sense,” J.J. explained. “I can override it in here if you want to head out and tell me when it flashes green?”
Mitch headed to the main lab and waited for the green light to flash on.
“Green!” he called to J.J. above the alarms and pushed the main lab door open. He went straight to the microscope.
He heard J.J. enter behind him.
“Get set up,” Mitch ordered, “we need to bag some samples.”
“Seven minutes,” J.J. stood beside him and pulled compact storage containers from his vest, setting them up on the counter.
Peering through the microscope, Mitch saw a slide with several cells.
“Taking that one?” J.J. asked.
“Too risky.” Mitch eyed a stand with a dozen tubes half filled with some fluid. J.J. handed him two empty tubes. Mitch filled them with water and selecting two from the stand, swapped them, handing them back. He moved to the refrigerator.
“Six minutes,” J.J. called.
“Petri dish,” Mitch gestured to him.
J.J. handed him the dish. Mitch opened his vest and withdrew a sealed syringe with a liquid substance in it. He placed a few droplets into a new petri dish, sealed the syringe, selected a similar sample and swapped them. Grabbing a swab from his jacket, Mitch immersed it in two other foreign fluids and bagged the swabs, passing it to J.J. for storage. He pulled a mini camera from his vest and looked around.
“Beautiful,” he whispered seeing the brief case. With his gloved hand he opened the lid, pushed aside a selection of Mont Blanc pens and pulled out three manila folders. He opened the first file and found a list of names next to a column of dollar amounts. He snapped photos of the first few pages.
“Five minutes,” J.J. announced. Joining Mitch, he whipped out his camera, removed the second file and began to take photos. Mitch opened the third folder, finding profiles on Nick, Diaz, two security personal and three people listed as scientists and a pilot.
Finishing, he took J.J.’s file and returned them to the case in the correct order.
“Four minutes,” J.J. counted down.
Mitch looked around; there was no sign of Nick’s folders.
Damn. He handed J.J. his camera, storing the evidence together.
J.J. zipped up the pack.
“I’m going to wipe the area for prints and hair. You move out, I’m right behind you,” Mitch instructed.
“OK, you’ve got three minutes.”
Mitch heard the door close as J.J. departed. He pulled a soft cloth out of his vest and wiped the area carefully; the magnetic cloth picked up everything. Another glance at his watch.
Two minutes, thirty seconds – what the heck? He unzipped a small section of his vest and pulled out a tiny magnetic microphone and receiver, no larger than a half dollar. He felt under the table; no metal. Mitch glanced around the room looking for something metal that would hold the magnet.
Top of the refrigerator? Too visible. Back? No, the hum may interfere with recording audio. Two minutes. Hurry, where can I put this?
He looked up.
The air conditioning duct; nicely centered to capture conversations.
He leapt up on the counter, pushed a ceiling panel upwards and felt around for a suitable spot. The alarm bells stopped.
I’ve got to get out of here!
He pulled himself up into the ceiling, locked his feet into a beam, swung upside down and wiped his tread marks off the counter. The house lights flickered on and he hurled himself up hearing footsteps on the walkways. Mitch placed the microphone in the tread of the ceiling air conditioner vent and lowered the panel back into place as the lab door swung open. He froze behind the grate and watched Johan enter, stop, pat down his pockets as if looking for his cigarettes and head out again.
Move! Mitch hurried towards the outlet at the side of the building.
J.J. waited, watching everyone enter the building via the walkway above him. Security was the last to pass. He rose slowly, checked the coast was clear and raised himself up to the walkway. He heard footsteps and ducked back under the stairs, looking up to see who was passing.
Johan! Why is he going out? Is he coming back?
He waited a few seconds, pulled himself up again and headed to the fire exit. As he reached for the door, it opened. J.J. found himself face-to-face with Johan.
Mitch crawled along the inside of the ceiling. Coming to the end, he pushed open the vent and looked out, then down at the side of the building.
Great, no dog. He studied the drop. Not so great … it must be at least twenty-five feet to the ground! Shit.
He glanced around.
Nope, nothing. No pipes, no tree branches, he thought. He strained forward to see the car. No one in the driver’s seat. Where the hell is J.J.? Just get on with it. He lowered himself full length from the vent.
That cuts about six feet off the fall, he thought glumly. On the count of three. What am I saying?
He let go, hit the ground with a thud, rolled, then squatted to assess the damage.
Sprained ankle, all else intact. Where the hell is J.J?
“All clear in there,” J.J. nodded to Johan. “Thanks for your co-operation.”
Johan ignored him, and pushed past.
“Yeah, you’re welcome,” he muttered under his breath and exited the building. “Cover blown! Mitch is going to be pissed off.”
He bolted to the car; it was empty.
Where the hell are you, Mitch?
J.J. tried the car door; it was open and he slid into the driver’s seat and dialed John Windsor.
“What’s happening? I haven’t heard from Mitch,” John answered.
“Me either. We split ways. The drill’s over and I’m outside.”
“Who’s got the samples?”
“I have; plus photos. Johan left his brief case in there.”
“Excellent. Don’t get caught sitting there with them. Give Mitch five minutes and then get those into the lab. You can go back and pick him up. Understand?”
“Yessir!”
J.J. hung up and glanced at this watch.
Come on, Mitch, what the hell are you doing? He reached under the seat feeling for the spare key and found it. He put the key in the ignition, turned on the heater and waited.
Where are you?
He saw movement up ahead; someone with a slight limp was coming around the hedges.
“Shit,” J.J. glanced at the samples from the lab in the back seat. He locked the doors and started to drive, swerving to miss the figure as it ran up the side of the car and banged on the window. J.J. recognized Mitch and slammed on the brakes, unlocking the doors. Mitch limped in.
“Take off.”
“What happened to you?” J.J. floored the car.
“I took a scenic trip through the ceiling into the garden,” Mitch put the seat back and stretched out his leg.
“Geez, you’re ankle’s swelling already.” J.J.’s phone rang. “That’ll be John,” he handed it over.
“Chief, all OK, job done,” Mitch hung up. “So where were you?”
“I’ve got good and bad news,” J.J. said. “The good news is I got out alive with the samples intact.”
Mitch grunted at the obvious.
“And the bad news?”
“Johan saw me.”
Pulling up at J.J.’s apartment, Mitch limped around to the driver’s side of his car.
“Thanks for the lift.”
“Thanks for coming on the shift. See you tomorrow J.J.”
He swung the car around and headed back to the office, pulling into his usual car space. He limped to the door, flashed his security pass to get in and took the samples to the lab, finally climbing the stairs to his floor.
“You’re still here,” Mitch said entering John’s office.
“You’re a mess, John greeted him.
“So I’ve heard,” Mitch fell into a chair.
“You should’ve got the fire lads to hose you down. What have you done to your leg?”
“Just a sprain.”
John picked up the phone and called for a medic to the fourth floor, then opened a cabinet and poured two scotches.
“Samples?”
“Delivered.”
“Good. Any hitches?”
“J.J. was compromised; Johan saw him. Otherwise, no problems.” He took the offered scotch and swallowed it fast, feeling it burn down the back of his throat. He fished the microphone remote from his pocket and handed it over.
“I didn’t know you were going to get that into place,” John jumped to his feet and attempted to patch it through the system, unable to pick up any noise.
“Could be working, they might not be saying anything. Or have left for the day.”
A South African accent crackled on the line.
“Excellent,” John listened in.
“Good. I was worried about where I stuck the mic but that’s crisp.”
John reached for the phone again and ordered transcript recording from the lab.
“Nice work. If your samples are good, you’ve earned a night off.”
Mitch rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, heard that before.” He emptied the glass and turned to see the medic coming his way.