The Persona Protocol - By Andy McDermott Page 0,74
got to go halfway along the top of the damn building. And when you get to the penthouse, you’ve still got to climb down from the overhang. It’s nearly twenty feet to the balcony – and over eight hundred straight down!’
Tony was marginally more reassuring. ‘Kyle’s got the UAV in position. It looks like there’s a beam on the underside of the roof you’ll be able to use.’
‘Looks like?’ said Adam dubiously.
‘The plans say it’s a structural support. Let’s hope they didn’t change anything.’
‘Yeah, let’s hope!’ The elevator continued to climb. ‘Okay, I’m almost there. Which way to this maintenance room?’
‘Turn left,’ Holly Jo told him as the ascent slowed, then stopped. Adam stepped out. The corridor was a creamy white with a deep scarlet carpet, woven with the repeating pattern of a Chinese dragon. A security camera was mounted high on the wall directly opposite the elevator doors. He went left. ‘Take the next corner,’ she said as he approached a junction. Another camera watched the intersection. He rounded the turn. ‘Okay, the door is just on your left.’
He gave it a quick glance as he passed. A sign saying ‘No Entry’ in several languages; a keycard lock. He had a computerised keycard in his pocket that could hack it, but it would take at least twenty seconds to find the right code, during which time he would be in full view of the security camera. He kept walking. ‘Levon, can you do anything about the cameras?’
‘From DC?’ came the distinctly sarcastic reply. ‘They’re on a local system – you know, a closed circuit? They’re not hooked up to the Internet, man.’
‘No need to twist your panties, I was just asking.’ At the corridor’s far end was another camera – but, he realised, its offset position relative to the one behind him meant there was a blind spot in the security coverage. Only small, a narrow triangle against one wall . . .
It was enough.
A fire extinguisher was clipped to the wall. He yanked it free as he passed and pulled out the safety tab before squeezing the handle to set it off. Water gushed out. He sprayed the wall and carpet for several strides, then dropped the canister just before the end of the blind spot. ‘Holly Jo, can you patch my phone through to the front desk?’
‘Sure I can, but why—’
‘Put me through.’ He tapped her number into his phone and waited. Seconds passed, subtle changes in the background hiss telling him that the call was being rerouted – then it rang.
A brief wait, then: ‘Imperial Casino and Hotel, how may I help you?’
‘Uh, hi,’ said Adam, exaggerating Vanwall’s accent to make himself sound like a clueless tourist, ‘I’m staying here, I’m on the forty-ninth floor? Uh, someone’s set off a fire extinguisher. There’s water everywhere, it’s a real mess.’
‘Can you tell me the number of the nearest room, please?’
He had memorised it with a quick glance. ‘Yeah, sure. It’s outside room forty-nine fifteen.’
‘Thank you, sir. We’ll send someone to clean it up right away. We’re sorry for any inconvenience.’
‘No problem. Bye.’ He disconnected. ‘Okay, let’s see how quick their maids are.’
He stopped near the end of the corridor, pretending to be involved in a phone conversation for the benefit of the camera. It didn’t take long before someone arrived to assess the problem. It wasn’t a maid, but a man in grey overalls. He rounded the far end of the hallway, shook his head in disapproval on seeing the fallen extinguisher, then plodded over to pick it up.
Adam started towards him. The maintenance worker’s keycard was hanging from a reel on his tool belt. Keeping the card on a short, self-retracting cord was supposed to make it impossible to lose or steal, but there were ways around the latter. He put a hand in one pocket, feeling cold metal.
The man lifted the extinguisher and turned to return it to its place. Adam walked up behind him and with a swift, precise motion swept his hand at his belt. A moment’s hard pressure on the multitool’s clippers and snick, the cord was cut, the flat sound covered by an ‘Excuse me.’ He caught the card before it had time to fall more than an inch and strode past without looking back. If the man had realised what had happened, a shout would come at any moment . . .
The only sound that reached him was the clunk of the extinguisher being pushed back into its clips. Adam