The Persona Protocol - By Andy McDermott Page 0,175
hard, stopping outside the offices. Two men dressed in black combat gear and carrying sub-machine guns jumped out and ran towards the building. The SUV reversed, slewing around and powering back to the repository.
Her relief that the men weren’t coming for her was immediately overcome by alarm. The pair rounded the rear of the offices and started to climb the ladder to the roof.
Adam’s escape route was cut off.
‘The first team is on site,’ Baxter told Harper as he listened to his phone. ‘Two men are going up to the roof – Spence just entered the facility’s grounds.’
Harper finished entering the information into the computer. ‘Here,’ he said, jabbing a finger at the results. ‘Is that enough to find the disk?’
Butterworth looked over his shoulder. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘Good. Then do it!’ As Butterworth gave orders to a subordinate, Harper went to Baxter. ‘Have they found Gray? Or Childs?’
‘No sign yet, but—’
He broke off as a new alarm, a shrill, rapid bleeping, sounded. ‘My God!’ gasped Butterworth, rushing back to the computer. ‘That’s – that’s the internal alarm. Someone’s broken into the building!’
Baxter brought up his gun. ‘Where?’
‘It looks like, ah . . .’ He brought up a schematic of the building, a small area flashing red. ‘You were right, Admiral – he’s on the roof! One of the vent covers for the HVAC system has been opened. He must be trying to get in through the ducts.’
‘Do you know where he’ll come out?’ said Harper.
Butterworth clicked through to another layer of the schematic, exposing the rectilinear mazework of the inner structure. ‘Yes! The only place he can get out is in section K-6.’
Baxter looked round as Spence and another man ran into the room, accompanied by one of the Gorman Building’s security personnel. ‘With me,’ he ordered.
‘Take them to K-6,’ Butterworth told the guard. ‘Quick!’ The group of armed men hurried out.
Harper’s phone rang. ‘Yes?’
‘Sir, this is Morrow – Mr Baxter told me to call you,’ came the reply. ‘I’m on the roof of the next building.’
‘Have you found Childs?’ demanded Harper. ‘Tell me what you can see!’
The two men moved across the rooftop, the tactical lights mounted on their weapons illuminating the dark crannies amongst its ventilation ductwork with pitiless intensity. There was no sign of their target – but they knew he had been there. ‘There’s a long piece of pipe pointing at the next building,’ said Morrow into his headset, shining his beam upon the bizarre apparatus. ‘It’s hooked up to a gas cylinder of some kind – it’s still hissing.’ He cautiously prodded the half-inflated inner tube with the muzzle of his gun. Nothing happened.
‘There’s a rope here,’ said his companion, moving past him and aiming his light out across the gap between the buildings. A line of blue nylon ran between them.
‘Sir, he’s got across to the federal facility.’ Both men swept the other roof with their flashlights, but spotted no signs of life. ‘He must be inside – we can’t see him.’
‘What about Childs?’ asked Harper. ‘Is she up there?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Damn it!’ Harper growled. ‘All right, keep watch in case he tries to get out that way.’ Capturing the Englishwoman would have given him considerable leverage over Gray – although, it occurred to him, if the agent really was thinking like him, would he sacrifice her to achieve his objective?
His musing was interrupted as Butterworth’s subordinate ran back into the office. ‘I’ve got the disk, sir,’ he gasped.
‘Give it to me.’ Harper all but snatched it from the man’s hand. It was nothing special to look at, a mirror-like optical disk in a protective transparent plastic caddy. A label bore a barcode and a string of numbers. ‘Are you absolutely sure this is the right one?’
Butterworth checked the digits against the search results. ‘Yes, sir. This is it.’
Harper attempted to conceal his relief. ‘Good. I’m taking this to a secure location. And remember,’ he added, raising a threatening finger, ‘all of this is a matter of national security and is strictly classified. Nobody in this facility is to discuss it without first receiving written authorisation from my office. Is that understood?’
‘Yes, Admiral,’ said Butterworth, nodding repeatedly.
‘Good. Liaise with Mr Baxter – he’ll give you further instructions once the situation has been dealt with.’ He turned and without another word strode from the office, heading back to the main entrance.
The disk felt bizarrely heavy in his hand. He had to fight the temptation to smash it there and then. That would lead to unwelcome questions, suspicion.