This book is intended for a more mature audience, so be advised.
╗ SEVEN ╚
THE
TOWER
“The
man just keeps talking...”
Standing
arms akimbo in the half-light from the computer screens in front of
him, Officer Sam Holloway shook his head and smiled with dark
amusement. A monochrome video feed of Anna and Dr. Jarrod talking
together at the cafeteria table flickered softly on the main monitor,
and the pair's conversational audio played over the main sound
system.
The
two young security officers sitting in front of the monitors turned
around with identical concerned expressions on their faces. “Should
we intervene?” one of them asked.
Sam
rubbed his stubbled jaw in thought. “I'm sorry, that wasn't a
question,” he replied sharply after a pause. “And technically, he
hasn't violated protocol. Yet.”
He looked back to the monitor. “Miss McLean is entitled to know
what her job entails.”
He
watched the pair for a while in silence, his eyes flicking from one
to the other and back again. It had been a while since the last time
he quarterbacked a surveillance operation personally and the rush of
the moment showed clearly in his face. Normally, an operation like
this consisted of long stretches of time in which nothing of interest
happened, punctuated at intervals by hectic activity, followed by
more boredom.
This
was different.
Ever
since Anna had entered the first of the outer perimeters she had been
interesting to watch. How she reacted to the guards, dogs, scanners,
security protocols; he was interested in it all. Her time with her
new sidearm had particularly intrigued him, especially the tight
groupings she had perforated in her paper targets. But this
conversation struck him as particularly worthy of his time.
Dr.
Jarrod's voice crackled over the speakers: “I
would recommend that you keep your eyes wide open. Something is going
on here that is bigger than you, I think. As much as I will enjoy
working with you, I feel your time with my laboratory will be brief.
They didn't bring you in here just to program a protocol for me.”
Sam
frowned and leaned forward towards the screen. His eyes twitched and
he gestured towards the young officer who had asked the question.
“Zoom in on Dr. Jarrod.”
“Yes
sir.”
All
three men watched and listened further.
Dr.
Jarrod's electronic voice on the speakers continued: “I
wouldn't worry for the moment, I
don't think. But...keep your eyes open. I like you already, Anna, and
I wouldn't want to see you get hurt. Speaking of laboratories and
projects, shall we go get you acquainted with mine?”
Sam
relaxed again, but tapped the younger officer on the shoulder. “Make
a note, Lieutenant, for me to visit with the good doctor after he
relinquishes Anna for the day. We are going to have a little chat.”
The lieutenant nodded in reply and they all continued to watch the
screens.
Anna
and the doctor rose from their table and began to wend their way back
to his laboratory and away from the cafeteria security cameras. Sam
returned to his standing pose, scanning the wall of monitors from his
position behind his two officers. The two lieutenants began to tap
their controls, following the doctor and Anna with the appropriate
camera angles.
The
door several feet behind Sam suddenly buzzed and he turned in
surprise to the security monitor to see who it was. He was met with
the stern pixeled face of Terry Garnham staring back at him. With a
roll of his eyes he stepped back and tapped the door lock button; the
door unlocked with its characteristic thud
and Terry swept into the room.
“Terry,”
Sam acknowledged, nodding to her with little warmth. Terry nodded
back with even less emotion and stopped beside him, clasping her
hands behind her back and watching the screens with him. They stood
together in silence for so long that the two lieutenants turned
around to steal an awkward glance at the pair, a glance which was cut
short by a glare from Terry.
Sam
was the first to speak. “I wouldn't have expected you here.”
The
woman remained expressionless. “And why is that? I'm giving them
the perceived freedom of speaking freely. Where else would I be?”
Sam
smirked and shook his head. “You have been such a smothering mother
hen to Miss McLean that I thought you'd be down there making sure she
didn't trip and scrape her knee.”
Terry
didn't deign to look over at him. “Hardly. I just take my job
seriously, unlike some of my colleagues.”
Sam
smiled and sighed. “And I thought we divorced so I wouldn't have to
listen to this sort of shit.” He leaned forward to the young
officer again and mumbled a direction to him. The young man tapped
his controls and the cameras angled in for a better look as Anna
stopped in front of the mural. Sam, satisfied with the new camera
view, leaned back again and folded his arms.
Terry
turned and regarded him with a look of thinly disguised disdain. “You
divorced me for far more trivial reasons than that.”
“Triviality
is in the eye of the beholder,” Sam responded with sarcasm.
“Well,
you are the beholder. And this spying is a little obsessive, don't
you think?”
Sam
pursed his lips and kept his eyes on the monitor. “If you say so.
The Secretary was quite clear, he wanted keen observation of her for
as long as she is in the building. Besides,” he added with
increasing sarcasm, “why should you care? We treat all the new
people this way.”
“That's
not true and you know it,” Terry replied, irritated. “This woman
has had her life picked apart like nobody else that we've ever
brought in. And I've never seen you monitor someone new personally
like this.”
“And
I've never seen a man talk as freely and without restriction as Dr.
Jarrod,” Sam replied, pointing to the figure of the doctor on the
computer monitor. “He barely waited until you left the room before
all manner of theories and opinions began to come out. Makes me wish
we still had the infrastructure to monitor the citizenry like we used
to. It's men like him that keep me awake at night.”
“Besides
your own snoring, that is,” Terry ripped dryly. “He's been cooped
up in that lab for too long, I think it's getting to his head. But oh
wait! That's your doing as well, is it not?”
Sam
smiled his wide smile at her. “You just keep getting more
delightful with every passing month. And tell me, do you still have
nightmares about the downtown shooting that keep you up until three
in the morning? And can you find a man understanding enough anymore
to pat you on the shoulder and tell you it'll be okay?”
For
the first time since she came into the room Terry appeared visibly
discomfited. Her usually poised and rigid figure flagged and she
looked away. “My lovers and private life are my own business now,
not yours.”
“Oh,
but you're mistaken!” Sam shot back, still smiling although his
eyes had turned cruel. “When you enter the Tower nothing is private
anymore!” He gestured widely to the room at large; it was a huge
round affair consisting of two levels of seating arrangements and
computer desks. In front of almost every computer monitor sat an
officer, dutifully scanning the glowing screens for signs of anything
amiss in the Central Admin complex. The lighting glowed a dim moody
blue and gave the Tower an almost theatrical feel.
“In
here there are no secrets, in here . . . ” he said slowly as he
pointed to himself, “I am God.” He turned back to the flickering
images of Anna and the doctor, entering Laboratory A1A. “I am God,
surrounded by my avenging angels and messengers. I thought you would
have known that by now.”
Terry
was silent. Sam chuckled at her discomfiture. “So yes, we will
follow and listen and learn. We will track her and you will not
interfere or question.
Terry,
visibly eager to change tracks, gestured to the main screen. “Have
you found anything out that I can make use of tomorrow during my
training sessions with her?”
The
cruel look faded away and Sam shrugged. “Not too much. Although,”
he added, chuckling again as he watched the screen, “this man
cannot stop talking.”
Terry
frowned. “What do you mean? Has he broken protocol?”
“Technically,
no, since Anna has the clearance. But he's skirting the line...”
Sam's voice trailed away as he listened to Dr. Jarrod speak. The
doctor was explaining Daniel Marcus's disappearance, and Sam paid
close attention, hanging on every word. Finally he shook his head
again. “I can't figure why the Secretary let a man like him into
this project.”
Terry
sighed. “He knows what he's doing.”
“Who,
our Secretary or this buffoon of a doctor?” Sam fired back.
“You
know who I'm talking about,” Terry replied, glaring at him. “And
I get the distinct impression that he didn't authorize this level of
scrutiny.”
“Ha!
He authorized me to background-check the hell out of Miss McLean, as
well as to glean what I could from her time here. I don't like being
doubted in my own domain, Miss Garnham, it only serves to irritate
me.”
“Are
you still surveilling her house?” Terry asked, ignoring his
outburst.
Sam
paused petulantly. “No, we're not.”
“Why
not?”
“He
won't let me anymore. He claims
we got what we needed during the vetting process and he wants to
leave her alone there. He's oddly touchy about that. So we pulled
everyone out.”
“Why
don't I believe you?” Terry queried, shaking her head.
“If
you don't believe me, ask Lieutenant Farkas down there at console six
to pull up the three-sixty degree traffic cam on her street. It
doesn't work. We lost it during one of those outages we had last
week.” Sam reddened as he spoke, whether it was with anger or
embarrassment was unclear. “We've been losing cameras like that for
a while. We've tried keeping up with replacing them but its become a
bit of an epidemic. I don't know if it's Verité or just some
screwball gang who's doing it.”
A
hint of a smile crept over Terry's face. “If you can't play peeping
tom on Anna in her own house you could perhaps find a way to spy on
her next door neighbor instead. I've been told he's quite the
character.”
Sam
rolled his eyes. “Just a crazy old man. Our records say he's up for
a geriatric home in a couple years, so we're letting him stay in his
house.” He turned suddenly on Terry. “You may leave now, Miss
Garnham. We have work to attend to. Go back to babysitting our new
arrival.”
Terry's
face darkened but she said nothing, opting instead for one last look
at the monitor and the image of Anna sitting at the reactive
computer. Terry sighed and strode quickly out of the Tower, letting
the door shut behind her with a dramatic click.
Sam
once again chuckled under his breath as he watched the screen. “That
man just keeps talking...”
₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪
Terry
stalked down the long hallway to her office, her fists clenched and
her knuckles white. Her heels clicked even more quickly than usual,
echoing hollowly off the marble slab-sided walls with a steady but
urgent tempo. The usual grimness in her face had nearly vanished and
was replaced by another stronger emotion, nearly inexplicable even to
her. It could have been terror, had it not been so well-controlled.
Or anger.
She
pushed unceremoniously through the glass doors of her office and sat
down at the spartan desk, a desk meticulously clear of any of the
usual office clutter and containing only a commex charging station
and her office computer. Her breath drew in and let out unevenly and
she sat for a long moment with arms extended, her hands flat on the
desktop, attempting to calm herself and soothe her nerves. The
brushed aluminum slab felt cold to her palms.
She
glanced quickly around; no one walked the hallway outside her office.
When her hands were steady enough she reached up to her left ear and
slipped the earring out. It was a large, dangling pendant earring in
an entirely nondescript color. She took a long breath, then grasped
the bottom of it firmly and pulled.
Out
popped a small micro-data plug cleverly concealed inside.
She
peered over the top of her computer monitor at the security camera
outside her office. It only spied on her through the glass door of
her office, affording her a small bit of privacy, the same as it was
with all higher ranking officers of Central Admin. Rank equaled
privacy, or a degree of it anyways. With a nervousness that was not
her wont she slipped out her commex and, holding it near the desk
where the cameras couldn't see, she slid the micro-data plug into the
slot at the bottom.
The
screen of her commex lit up briefly, flashed, then went dark again.
Then the device began to reinitialize and long lines of text scrolled
past as a new subroutine took over. Terry held the device with
fraying patience waiting for the subroutine to complete, occasionally
glancing up to make sure nobody was coming. Finally the text stopped
scrolling and all that was left was a blinking bar, waiting ominously
for input.
Terry
hesitated, then began typing on the screen: “Anna's three-sixty
degree street cam is confirmed still dead. Probably no fix for at
least a week. Recommend you move now.” She tapped the Send
button.
And
waited.
Not
fifteen seconds later the screen flashed as a message appeared. Terry
opened it, breathing slowly: “Is Anna's security
clearance fully initialized? Will her ID badge work everywhere now?”
Terry
hesitated again, biting the inside of her cheek. When she began to
type again her fingers were not as steady: “ID badge is free and
clear. Will work on everything.” She paused, then added, “You're
not going to hurt her?”
The
return message took much longer to come this time. When it did Terry
opened it without enthusiasm: “That depends on her. You
need plausible deniability. No more questions. Good work. Over and
out.”
Terry
gritted her teeth and pulled the data plug out of the bottom of her
commex. The screen flashed again, then returned to normal. She grimly
reinstalled the plug in her earring, then breathed another long
breath and rubbed her hands together. Her palms were drenched with
cold sweat.
Click here to read Chapter 8!
Cool! Did not see that coming. I would not have said, "That depends on her." Compartmentalize as much as possible. Your source does not need to know that. I would let her stew.
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