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"As an officer of the United States Army," he said, "I swore an oath. I can't betray my country. Not for any reason."
Her eyes narrowed. "I gave you a direct order."
"But..."
"Choose your next words very carefully."
Smythe looked around the room and saw everybody watching him. He couldn't argue his way out of this situation. He had only two choices: comply with the order or fight for his life. He didn't think he could beat Ethel, and if by some miracle he did, he would still have to contend with Aaron and the rest. Realistically, he had zero chance of survival.
This was not the first time he had faced a life or death decision over his beliefs. It was an occupational hazard for a soldier. The idea of dying didn't bother him too much, but he had to decide whether it was worth it. What was the benefit?
He was protecting his medical knowledge of PRooFS. Technically, the information was cla.s.sified, but secrets came in many shades and this one was at the pale end of the spectrum. If the illness spread, civilian doctors would need to learn the truth anyway.
"I'll answer his questions, ma'am," Smythe said at last.
Ethel nodded. "Despite your stubborn ignorance, you can make good decisions. That is very encouraging. I'm glad you're part of the team." She walked out of the laboratory.
Chapter Twelve.
Marina checked the address of the apartment building to confirm she was in the right place. It was made of brown bricks and had a rectangular shape that was remarkable for its lack of architectural interest. Clearly, the developer had wanted to build a simple box to hold people and nothing more. Each apartment unit had a rusty air conditioner sticking out of a window, and the rain gutters were falling apart.
I'm looking for apartment six, Marina thought.
She went to the front door. There were eight names listed, each with a call b.u.t.ton. The name for apartment six was "Jones." After a moment of thought, she pressed the b.u.t.ton for apartment seven, which had the name "Walters."
The voice of an old woman came out of a speaker below. "Yes? Who is it?"
Marina immediately knew how to proceed. "Mrs. Walters?" she said. "This is Deborah Page from the Social Security Administration."
"Social Security?" the woman croaked.
"Yes. There's a problem with your monthly payment. May I come up? It's important that we talk. If the matter can't be resolved, the administration will have to stop your checks."
"What?" Mrs. Walters said in a fearful tone. "Yes, come up!" The door buzzed.
Marina pushed the door open and went through. The narrow hallway inside smelled like a garbage dumpster. She didn't trust the dented elevator so she climbed a flight of stairs. The second floor had four doors, numbered "5," "6," "7," and "8." Everything was painted a flat, pale green, the color of dying gra.s.s. She went to apartment seven and knocked politely.
The door opened, revealing a withered, ancient woman in a purple nightgown. She needed a walker, and an oxygen tube ran from her nose to a green tank on a rolling stand.
"I hope this won't take long, Mrs. Walters," Marina said with a smile.
"What's the problem, dear?"
"We received a change of address notice the administration thought was suspicious. I came here to verify it."
"What notice?" Mrs. Walters said.
"A letter requested that we send your checks to apartment six instead of apartment seven. We checked the address and found a Mr. Jones is living there. Do you know him?"
"No." She shook her head. "I only met him once when he moved in. That was five or six years ago. I can't even remember what he looks like. Do you think he's trying to steal my checks?"
"That's possible. Can you tell me anything about him?"
"No. Sorry."
"I don't understand," Marina said. "This man is your neighbor, isn't he? You never see him?"
She shrugged. "It's always quiet next door. Very quiet."
"But he must pay his rent."
"Yes, the landlord is very particular about rent. Ten days late and you get an eviction notice as your first warning. A real b.a.s.t.a.r.d."
"I'm guessing this landlord doesn't have a close, personal relationship with his tenants."
"You're right about that," Mrs. Walters said. "He's just a name that I write on checks. He never comes here. This s.h.i.tty place is falling apart and he doesn't care. The only reason I stay is because it's cheap and I'm too old to move."
An absentee landlord and an absentee tenant, Marina thought. A perfect match. "So, talking to the landlord about Mr. Jones wouldn't do much good."
"Probably not."
"We may prosecute Mr. Jones for attempting to defraud the United States Government," Marina said. "Any information we can get will be helpful. Can you think of anything else?"
"No." Mrs. Walters shook her head. "Sorry. What about my social security checks?"
"Don't worry." Marina smiled. "Your checks are safe. We will ignore the change of address request."
"Thank you!"
"My pleasure." Marina walked away and heard Mrs. Walters' door close.
Marina stopped at the door for apartment six, just a few yards away. She knocked but got no response.
She had a set of lock picks hidden under her shirt. She expected opening the door would take less than a minute even though it had a deadbolt. However, she wanted to know what was behind the door before she opened it. In her experience the enemy never just walked away from an important place. They always left surprises behind for uninvited visitors.
There was a much safer way to enter, but it was also much louder. She grinned as she considered the idea. Being loud was a lot more fun than being quiet.
She opened her phone and called Edward back at headquarters.
"h.e.l.lo?" he said.
"It's Marina. I'm at the address now."
"How does it look, ma'am?"
"It's a dump," she said. "I'm going to blast the door open. I don't want the police or the fire department crashing the party."
"How soon?"
"Ten minutes."
"Can you give me fifteen?" he begged. "I have to hack the phone system and reroute calls."
"Sure. Fifteen, exactly." She hung up.
She went back to the car. Along the way she propped open the door of the apartment building with a stick. She had taken the gray sedan since it had all the supplies in it, while Aaron and Smythe had taken the manager's car from the motel. Marina unlocked the trunk and frowned at the suitcases packed tightly inside. She started digging for the one containing the explosives. Maybe it's a good thing I gave Edward fifteen minutes, she thought.
She eventually found the right suitcase. Ethel had sent along a disappointing amount of C-4, barely enough to blow up a small house. Fortunately, Marina needed even less. She took some small charges, wiring, a timer fuse, and a smoke grenade. She wrapped everything in a towel to hide it.
She went back into the apartment building and climbed to the second floor. The hallway was clear. She placed the explosives on the door of apartment six in a pattern that would blow it out cleanly. She wired everything together and set the timer for one minute. Finally, she set off the smoke grenade and tossed it to the end of the hall.
She ran back down the stairs but didn't go outside. A few seconds later the charges detonated with enough force to shake dust from the ceiling.
"Fire!" she screamed. "Get out! Fire! Fire! Fire!"
The sound of hurried footsteps made her smile. People rushed out of the building into the cool evening air, some wearing mismatched clothes or even just a bathrobe. When Mrs. Walters came out of the elevator, Marina stepped aside so she wouldn't be seen.
After the residents had cleared out, Marina went back up to apartment six. The smoke made her eyes water but she ignored it. She found the door was blown out along with chunks of the surrounding wall. Perhaps she had used a tad too much explosive. She carefully stepped through the hole.
On the other side she found a broken shotgun attached to a wire. She guessed it had been set to kill anybody who walked through the door. There was also some white powder on the floor that looked suspicious. She made sure not to touch anything as she walked past.
The apartment seemed completely empty, lacking even a chair to sit on. She wandered from room to room, puzzled. The presence of the shotgun proved the Eternals kept something of value here. Where was the answering machine that Aaron had called?
There had to be a hidden compartment. She went back and forth, examining how the walls fit together. She tried to visualize the floor plan in her mind. After a few minutes she figured it out. One of the two bedrooms had no closet, but when she stood in the kitchen, she could see the s.p.a.ce for it.
She went back to the bedroom and began tapping on the wall until she found the spot where it sounded hollow. It wasn't obvious how to open the secret door, and she wasn't in a patient mood, so she kicked it. A sheet of painted wood cracked. She drew a knife and pried open the crack until she could get her hands in. Then she yanked until the wood broke. Now she could peek through the hole.
There was computer equipment inside the closet, a lot of it. An entire rack was full of components. A nest of wires connected everything together and ran into conduits in the ceiling.
She called Edward.
"h.e.l.lo?" he said.
"I'm inside the apartment."
"I know that, ma'am. I blocked several emergency calls."
"Good work," she said. "I think I found what I came for. There is a bunch of computer stuff here but I have no idea what it does."
"Take a picture with your phone and send it to me. Also, try to read off some of the model numbers so I can look them up."
She spent a few minutes sending photos and information to him while he searched the internet.
"I figured it out," he said. "What you have there is an incredibly expensive answering machine."
"Oh?"
"It sends and receives secure calls. Those are encryption modules and tamper-proof storage devices. That thing is military grade. Maybe we should have the same setup here."
"What do I do now?" she said. "We need to listen to the recorded messages."
"That may be impossible. You'd have to haul all the equipment back here. Then I'd have to spend months trying to crack the codes, while avoiding the security measures. If I touch the wrong wire, the hard disks will erase themselves. The whole rig was designed to prevent what you want to do, ma'am."
She frowned. "We can't just give up."
"Hmm." He paused. "We might not be able to listen to the messages, but we can figure out who made the calls. We just need the phone numbers."
"Great. What do I do?"
"It looks like that hardware is connected to a lot of phone lines. Can you trace the lines back to a junction box?"
"But they go up into the attic," she said.
"Then I hope the attic isn't too dusty, ma'am."
Marina sighed. She started searching for an access panel in the ceiling. After looking through the entire apartment and finding none, she went out into the hall and finally spotted one. She leapt to knock the panel out. Then she jumped again, grabbed the edge of the hole, and pulled herself up. She dropped the panel back into place.
Distant sirens were getting louder. Apparently, Edward had not stopped all the calls to the police.
Muttering curses, she crept through the cramped, dark attic. A few inches of loose insulation covered the floor. The only light came from ventilation slots in the gables. She eventually located the conduit, which was a thick white pipe made of PVC. She followed it to the point where it exited the building through a side wall. She memorized the location.
Voices below indicated the police had arrived. They were probably in the hall, which meant she needed another way out.
She noticed the floorboards were loose. She swept away the insulation with her hands and used a knife to pry up a board. Underneath she found the drywall ceiling of the apartment below. She cut a small hole with her knife and peeked through to confirm the apartment was empty. Then she kicked out a larger hole and dropped down, landing softly. She immediately ran to a window, slid it open, and jumped out.
The fall was only a single story, but she didn't exit the window cleanly and tweaked her ankle when she landed. Fortunately, she fell onto soft gra.s.s. She grimaced but she could still walk.
She brushed herself off and straightened her clothes. She had just finished tidying up when a fireman came around the corner. She smiled and nodded to him.
"Ma'am?" he said. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, thanks."
He looked up at the open window. "Did you jump?"
"No." She shook her head. "Why would I do that?"
He furrowed his brow. She walked away, making sure not to limp.
She circled the building in search of the conduit. She did her best to avoid interacting with the emergency personnel, but some of them insisted on trying to be helpful. She attracted the most attention from the younger male police officers, of course. She didn't want to make a scene, so she allowed them to fawn over her.