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The airport security let Gretchen through quickly. The company she worked for wasn’t directly linked to the government, but they had special clearance at all major airports and restricted areas. Gretchen had mid-level clearance, not as high as some, but she could get through the airport fairly quickly.
She rushed to her gate with her belongings and laptop in hand. The plane was still boarding. She had time to spare. While catching her breath, she walked to the end of the line to wait. She pulled her phone from her pocket. What file is Vic talking about? He said she’d know, but now she was second guessing herself.
Pulling up her secure wi-fi hotspot, she opened the shared company files. Her first instinct was to look into her own experiment files. The shared cloud held only partial documents. They kept most of the true research at the lab to avoid leaking to the public. She stepped forward a few paces, catching up to the person in front of her. The first passengers in line had entered the loading bridge to the airplane, and a steady stream followed their lead.
Nothing stood out in her experiment files and there were no files added within the last twenty-four hours. She searched through Friedman’s shared documents. The sight of his name made her blood boil. They were colleagues and friends, yet the Director used his progress against her. She knew she couldn’t hold it against Friedman. His work wasn’t linked to her blood trials. They simply sought the same outcome: protection against the machine.
She glanced up, scanning the faces for the familiar smirk of her colleague. Friedman would be on this flight, but she couldn’t see him among the crowd.
Sifting through the rest of Friedman’s public files, she found nothing. Like her own files, they kept the majority offline. Two more paces forward. She was gaining ground and would board within minutes.
What do you want me to find, Vic?
She froze. Recent update. Vic didn’t simply say to view any shared files. He specifically said to view the recent updates. The updates record. On the first page of the shared drive, there was a list of files which circulated. The list tracked updates. All she’d have to do was change the viewing to ‘most recently updated.’ She cursed under her breath, wondering why she hadn’t thought of it sooner.
“Clumsy mistake,” she mumbled, looking at files at the top of the folder.
Caroline. Gretchen stared at the name of her colleague, the same woman who passed away twenty-five years earlier. There were no changes to the files since then. Now they were coming up, not only in the shared documents, but in her personal conversation with the Director. What are the odds?
She opened the file and read.
“Ma’am?” The gate attendant waved at Gretchen, motioning for her to step forward.
“I’m sorry,” Gretchen smiled. “I didn’t notice...” her voice trailed off as she flipped her phone to the airline app and pulled up her boarding pass. She placed it on the scanner and the beep admitted her to the long hallway of the plane. As she walked down the slope, she pulled up the files once more.
As she read, her heart rate soared. “The prick knew I was close,” she cursed the Director. “That fat, pompous ass.”
“Sounds like you could use a drink,” a man behind her laughed. “Was it a co-worker or boss? Or husband?”
“Neither. Err, no.” She clicked her phone screen off, hoping the man hadn’t seen the words that still shook her to her core. She looked up and smiled. The balding man seemed kind enough. “It was just someone who’s been hiding something, but it’s all out in the open now. And I’m on my way to his office, so I’ll be sure he gets what’s coming to him.”
The man’s brows rose, oddly bushy for someone with nearly no hair on the top of his head. “I’m glad I’m not that guy,” he said.
Gretchen smiled at him, then winced as the feeling came back to her left toes. She leaned on the side of the terminal walk and pulled her shoe from her foot.
“So, it is time for a drink?” Her new acquaintance laughed as he pointed to her shoe.
“You have no idea,” Gretchen laughed.
As she stepped onto the plane, she heard the faint whispers of the loudspeaker in the airport terminal: “Would a Mr. Friedman please make their way to gate seventeen? An Alec Friedman?”