Plot Line by Alton Gansky Page A

offered,”
McLain admitted.
    “Why not?”
    “Because it’s our problem. We should be the
ones to fix it.”
    “But they would help if we asked?”
    McLain nodded. “But if you know as much as
you say you do, then you know how messy that could get.”
    “With all due respect, General McLain,”
Devlin said. “We’re up to our necks in mess as it is. It can’t get
much worse.”
    “It can get worse, Mr. Chambers. It can get
far worse than you imagine.”
     
    Colin Rehnquist had moved from the electronics room. It had been difficult.
Every corridor had at least one security camera trained on it. With
the base on high security alert, Colin would not be able to walk
ten paces before being surrounded by a half dozen armed guards
looking to please their commander. So Colin had to be careful. His
life depended on it.
    Circumstance dictated his decision. If he
could not move where people normally traveled, then he would have
to find a new way to get around. These weren’t new thoughts. Colin
was a man of science, familiar with planning. His desire to escape
had been nesting in him for months, so he had given it much
thought. He went about his business as usual all the time studying
his surroundings, learning, analyzing, and memorizing every door,
every security camera, and every shift change. It took great mental
discipline, but he had done it, committing much of the bases’ floor
plan to memory. His security clearance allowed him access to nearly
every area of the facility. Still there were holes in his
knowledge, gaps that could not be filled by mere observation. To
ask for blueprints would raise suspicion and there was enough of
that going around.
    The room Colin had first hid in had been
selected carefully. Not only was it out of the unblinking gaze of
the security cameras, but it also adjoined the storeroom he was now
in. In turn this storeroom was situated next to the mechanical
room, separated only by a partition made of aluminum studs and
drywall. The mechanical room was a large expanse filled with
ventilation equipment, water heaters, air purifiers and dozens of
other esoteric machines that kept the base habitable for humans.
Ducts and pipes ran overhead, concealed by a drop ceiling composed
of two-foot by four-foot sound absorbing panels hung from heavy
wire. To make the underground facility less cave-like, ceilings had
been hung in every room and office. Only in the corridors were
pipes and vents visible.
    The storeroom was a repository for all
things janitorial. Boxes of bathroom supplies were neatly stacked
on metal shelves. In the corner of the room was a wheeled bucket
with two mops, their handles leaning precariously against the
unpainted drywall. Bottles of cleansers, bleach and floor wax lined
the bottom shelf. Recessed into the ceiling was a fluorescent light
fixture, which Colin, fearful light would bleed under the door
drawing attention, refused to turn on. Instead, he used a small,
pocket flashlight.
    Holding the flashlight in
his mouth and moving quietly as possible, Colin cleared a vertical
area from the shelves removing just enough contents and relocating
them on the floor near the opposite wall to form a ladder. Before
putting his weight on any part of the metal shelves, he cast the
beam of light to the back edges verifying the shelf was securely
attached to the partition. It was. Large bolts fastened the shelf’s
metal uprights to the wall. The shelf would not budge. He had done
this three times already, but he had to be sure. He was on the
verge of panic. He had abandoned his post setting off a manhunt.
There was no backing out now. Even if he walked into General
McLain’s office and turned himself in, they wouldn’t forgive him.
He didn’t know what they would do, but knowing what they could do terrified him.
    As he worked, images
of them circulated
in his brain like paper caught in a tornado. Slowly he raised his
right foot and placed it on the first shelf. Taking hold of a
higher shelf,