by Malhar Patel
She was beginning to sweat and the gentle smear of perspiration gave her forehead a shiny appearance. Her clothes felt stuffy and her skin was starting to redden. She began breathing deeply to try and calm herself down, and cool herself off. The air was frosty and stale.
Reaching into her pocket she pulled out the small scrap of paper from yesterday. She was on one of the floors below ground level, stood in a bare concrete corridor with the occasional breezeblock lining the walls.
Kim stood opposite a simple wooden door, which was the only thing that broke up the walls of the corridor. Her list told her that the safe should be next to the door, but she couldn't see anything.
Remembering her classic movies, she began tapping on the walls around the door and heard dull thuds. As she continued across the concrete the sound suddenly changed pitch to a hollow plunk. Running her bare fingers across it, her fine senses detected a slight discrepancy in the wall, which formed a panel. Pushing on it from side to side seemed to have no effect but she rammed her palms into it for the sake of chance, and the panel fell off to reveal a safe.
She looked down at her list of access codes and shock suddenly set in, as if she was falling backwards. She didn't know which password was which. There was a warning label on the control panel, which clearly outlined the grim consequences of entering the wrong code more than three times. Kim began to think a bit more about it, and realised that the warning might be to deter people such as herself. It was a game of bluff and double bluff and Kim was caught in the middle. There was no choice but to try any code and hope for the best.
She went down her list and tried the first one. There was a beeping sound and she grimaced, a part of her expecting to be caught straight away. Prompting for another, she tried the second code and again there was a beep. Sweat was just swimming all over her face now and she had to wipe herself down with her sleeve. She moved two down the list and tried again, holding her breath. She exhaled in frustration as the panel beeped once again.
Could she just give up? As long as she didn't try another code, nothing more could happen. Thinking about Jack and Dr. Lewis, she knew she had to be brave. She had to get it right this time. Looking down the list, she returned to the third one and typed it in. She paused for a second, considering the possibility that Klaus had sent Dr. Lewis the wrong codes, maybe trying to set him up.
Swallowing a mouthful of musty air, she finished typing it and her body slumped with relaxation as she heard the door of the black steel safe grind open. There was only a small green box inside, probably paint over some sort of metal. On top of the box was a small electronic keypad. Kim didn't worry about that now: she grabbed the box and swung the safe door shut. A few moments later she had the panel back in place.
Pulling back the rug in the disused conference room, she saw a few floorboards that look notably worn compared to their counterparts. Pulling them off with the minimum of effort, she saw what she expected: two safes next to each other.
Both were the same as the other four she had gotten past so far, except slightly smaller. She now had four of the small boxes in her handbag and she was expecting the liberation of these next two to be easy: only two access codes remained after all, and she had four attempts.
Looking down at the panels she saw the label's had changed. The warning for these was different. It demanded that you enter the correct code immediately or the security system would be activated.
That hot flush Kim had had before now returned, accompanied by the same nervous sweating. It was her worst odds yet, a straight fifty-fifty choice. Two numbers remained on the list, and she took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. Her finger began swirling in vague circles until it found the page. Looking down she saw that she had chosen the second number and began entering it into the left panel, her eyes constantly darting between the panel and the sheet to make sure that she typed the code correctly.
Closing her eyes she pushed the final button and waited. There was no sound. Opening them, she checked to make sure that she had actually pushed the button. The panel lights had gone from red to green. It was open. Pulling out the box she shuddered a little at how close she had come. She quickly typed in the final code on the second safe and waited, with a smile on her face now that the job was almost over.
Suddenly her ears were assaulted by a bellowing as the alarm system began blaring out its siren. Kim had no time to comprehend what had just happened. She kicked the rug back over and ran out of the room, sprinting down the empty corridor and into the laboratory section. Hyperventilating to catch her breath, she tried to appear calm and collected as she greeted her co-workers. She furiously wiped the sweat from her forehead and adjusted her collar; her clothes making her feel claustrophobic.
The door suddenly flung open as Imran burst through. She had a guilty look stamped all over her but he didn't notice. Instead he yelled out, “There's been an uncontrolled cycle of the chronotron. It's overloaded and cracked open and its leaking radiation. Can't you hear the alarm? We have to leave!”
Without waiting for her, he pelted out of the door and to the exit, all the while screaming warnings to anyone that would listen. It was interesting to see how a situation like this revealed someone's true character. Kim felt a turbulent calm set in, realising that she hadn't been caught. She knew that in these matters the laboratory is locked down immediately, even though the radiation doesn't become dangerous for hours.
As a sea of bodies rushed around the corridors in blind panic, nobody noticed Kim again slipping into the room. She tore back the rug and pulled open the safe. Even with the alarm shrieking, she heard a whooshing sound as the door opened. However, instead of the green box she had expected, there was a semi-translucent, red Perspex box instead that seemed to have an object inside.
She had to come out soon or she would be unaccounted for when they took a role call outside. She quickly pulled back the lid to peer inside and jumped back, flinging the box down as she did. From inside the red Perspex container, a pair of human eyeballs stared out at her.
Chapter 17
Frank looked over at Tony, who seemed to be daydreaming. It didn't surprise him, their shift was ending in a few minutes and they had nothing left to look at. So far the hotel cameras had failed to yield anything. Their only lead was Jack and they were working under the reasonable assumption that he was at the scene.
Frank was fairly sure that, since Bob rang him up, Jack wasn't responsible. His questions had now become 'Why was Jack denying he was there?’ and ‘what did he know that they didn't?'
The computer gave him an error yet again and Frank groaned and threw his hands up in the air. He got up from his desk, quitting for the night. Maybe tomorrow he could look over this with a pair of fresh eyes and make something of it.
For now he was off home. If he was lucky he could still catch his favourite television show. Even without looking it was obvious Tony was itching to get back home to his girlfriend. He yelled across the room to his partner, telling him he could leave. Tony didn't need to be told twice.
Jack heard the door swing open and saw Anisha trudge in. She was exhausted from a long day's work, and hauled herself upstairs. Even now, sweaty and flustered, she was a vision. He had decided that he was going to tell her everything about Kim, and how Pete might be involved. He was just waiting for the right moment.
His day so far had been quite productive and he felt he was nearly reaching a plan for the theft of Green's body from the ambulance. All the pieces were starting to come together and the main worry he had now was how Kim was doing. She hadn't called him yet and her phone wasn't receiving any messages from him because of some sort of signal failure. That left him confused and worried, since there was multiple network coverage over every square foot of the planet nowadays.
He lay on the floor, looking at the heap of documents with Green senior. It had taken an age to sort them out after yesterday's visit from the police. Anisha came down now, wearing grey jogging bottoms and a faded baseball
T-shirt, which revealed more of the gorgeous mocha skin on her arms. She came over and hunched down, taking a fleeting glance at the documents the pair were working on.
Loudly clearing her throat, she straightaway had their attention. From her pocket she whipped out a sheet of paper. Jack cleared an area for her and he and Green waited for her to explain. She said she had the plan perfectly made up for how they could get into the building.
Laying down her sketch of the house, it revealed her simple, subtle way of entering the building. Jack reached over and grabbed the security details and checked that Anisha's predictions were correct. As she explained it through in more detail they read through the notes again.
Green was the first to praise her and Jack followed suit. As Green senior read over it one more time, something occurred to Jack. He was thinking about how real this was, and the dangers of being caught or even being killed, and he realised that no-one had actually checked to see if these security details were correct.
What if he arrived expecting two guards and found six or seven instead? The thought was unsettling. He shared his concerns with the rest of the group, and immediately the mood shifted from congratulation and celebration to worry and doubt.
Jack decided that he would look at the paper details for Green's Royal Hall event and try and scope the real thing out tomorrow, to see if they matched up. It was already Thursday night and, seeing as how almost everybody else in the flat was working, his time was the most precious: too precious to be wasted. Still, it had to be done.
Thunder bellowed from the heavens, the dark nimbuses rippling like a stormy blanket in the sky. Eventually the rumbling reached a crescendo and with one huge boom, Frank's eyes snapped open. He was in an oversized white vest with blue and white striped boxer shorts, and his covers felt warm and clammy from sweat. He peeled them off and sat up, massaging his tired eyes.
The alarm clock on the counter told him it had just gone half four. His head was woozy but he found it difficult to block out the thunder so he buried his head under the pillow to try and muffle the sound. Roars and booms bounced around his skull and, accepting that the pillow wasn’t helping, he sat up in frustration.
There was a tingling on his skin and goosebumps started to settle as the cold set in, so he rubbed his arms a little to warm them up. With only the pallid glow of his night-lamp for company, he sat in bed thinking about the case and started to consider Bob.
How much did he know about what had happened, or about what Jack was trying to hide? He was shot in the chest so he must have seen who shot him. All Frank could really do now was to wait for Bob to wake up, but unfortunately that wouldn't happen for a few days at least.
There was no use in worrying too hard though, he thought. As soon as he woke up the case would solve itself, and until then, he just had to wait for inspiration to strike. He dropped his weary body back down into the bed and pulled over the covers, deciding to try to sleep again. About half an hour passed and he gradually drifted into a delicate state between waking and sleeping. With his body and his mind relaxed, all the chaotic elements of his case began to flow through his mind; to dance themselves into cohesion.
A few hours later, his alarm woke him up. His head was as clear as a bell and he now had one more theory he hadn't considered. Getting ready as fast as he could, he got into his aging saloon and speeded off to the police station. It was still early and the traffic was minimal.
Frank loved driving through London when they where only a few other cars on the road. The city felt so sparse and spacious and for a peaceful few minutes, the congestion and overcrowding of the capital seemed little more than a memory.
Arriving at the station in record time, he went up to the wrong floor by accident, the charred walls and hazard tape quickly reminding him his temporary office was now three storeys up. He reached his desk and began flicking through the stacks of documents piled up high; his hawk likes eyes training on every word.
After leafing through several files he reached the one he wanted: the paramedic's report. He picked it up and turned to the 'compromises for life threatening behaviour' section. In the report it said that to feed in the correct tubes and medication at the time, and to correctly follow basic life support procedure, the paramedics had cut open and pulled off his jacket.
Looking back over the documents, he located the forensic crime scene report. According to the document, there had been no jacket, phone or laptop collected. Frank scratched his leathery chin and paused momentarily. Jumping back to the other report he read that the clothes had been taken for trace analysis by the hospital's own lab. He already had the findings of the lab investigation, but he frowned nonetheless. If the jacket had been taken to trace, where was the contents?
His desk was littered with huge stack of reports, on paper and disc. Each was from a different department, and all were too pressured by time restrictions and legislation to co-ordinate with each other. Frank sighed as he sat down, knowing he would have to work meticulously through every document to find out what happened to Bob's jacket contents. Maybe something in the pockets would give him a clue to this mystery.
Jack was still worried and checking his phone yet again, breathed a sigh of relief as he found the message he'd hoped for. Kim had called him some time last night and as he read her text he felt better knowing that she was okay.
Her message was panicked though, and he could almost hear the fear in her words. He wondered if everything was okay. In the video mail she had asked to meet up with him and Jack thought this would be a great time to introduce Anisha.
Presently, he was walking up another long London road on his search for a shop that sold binoculars. There weren't many items that Anisha needed for her part of the plan, but those that she did were crucial. Since Jack didn't have to go to work, he had been 'volunteered' by the others to sort it out.
In truth he didn't mind much. He was a firm believer that you shouldn't over think things. He could remember many times when he had been searching his memory for something; a name, a word or just a simple fact. When he had thought hard about it he couldn't come up with anything but then when he had left it for a short while, the answer had suddenly popped into his head.
To that end, today he was taking a break from his usual planning. He would let Green senior do that for now. Jack's schedule for the day was already chocked full.
He estimated that collecting together all the items would take the morning, and then he would stop for lunch and finally go to the Royal Hall for the debate, which began at two. He had the security booklet in his coat pocket and he hoped that spotting the security wouldn't be too difficult. Stopping in his tracks, he spotted some binoculars in a shop window. All he had left to get now was another torch, a magnet, a lock picking kit and a few tuxedos.
The laboratory was closed for the next few days at least, which suited Kim perfectly. She lay in bed, hoping the rest would flush away the rotten feeling in her stomach. She had already seen a man die since she got involved in this job, and now she had a pair of dismembered body parts in her dresser drawer. This was a week of her life she would love to erase.
A different person might have gone out somewhere with her friends, to try to loosen her tension. But Kim wasn't the sort. She agonised over every little detail until she was a nervous wreck, and today she was doing just that.
She had woken up early this morning in an attempt to work out how to open the boxes. Realising they were fingerprint keypad locks that she couldn't possibly pick, she had gone back to bed and even now she wasn't asleep. Just lying there, wishing it was all over and waiting for Jack to call her back.
Finally, after an hour of staring at her ceiling, the phone began playing 'These Four Walls' by Shiatsu Massage. She pulled it off her bedside table and answered it, still lying on her back.
Jack was calling to tell her about Anisha and his progress so far. She listened patiently, waiting for the chance to tell him about the boxes. However, when her turn came, she never g
ot the chance to mention them. Not being able to control herself she began blurting out everything to him, from how scared she was right down to her guilt for helping to build this weapon. Jack was good at making people feel better and after a few comforting words she perked up considerably: especially when he mentioned he would try and come over in the evening.
He could sense they were close to something now, but Kim still felt swamped. It was as if no matter how deep she investigated things, in the end it was inconsequential. It was just one clue after another and she wondered if they would ever be able to stop all these plans.
After some idle chat, Jack said goodbye as he entered an underground station and Kim quickly thanked him for listening. Having gotten things off of her chest, she finally got out of bed and resolved to make the rest of her day more productive.
Tony looked in admiration at his partner. This was a genuine detective. He had dismissed Frank's plan as a long shot but after hours of wading through documents Frank had finally found the jacket: it was being dry cleaned while the contents were stored in a locker at a second facility. By contrast, Tony had spent the whole time looking over Jack's movements, pretending to do police work until Bob woke up and solved the case for them.
Right now him and Frank were just pulling up to what looked like a huge laundry factory in the middle of a council estate. As the detectives walked inside, they could hear the mechanical churn of machinery rinsing, scrubbing and drying expired evidence for return to its owners or to the police for auction.
Frank flashed his police card and walked up to the desk clerk. He was a young man in his early twenties and looked like a typical University student doing part time work to ease his crippling debt. Frank asked to see the lockers and the clerk vaguely pointed to the left, devoid of all enthusiasm to help.
