Kilmer reappeared in the stairwell and was shocked to see Weaver trying to choke the struggling scientist.
“Blimey! What the fuck?” he asked, exasperated by Weaver’s actions. “I told ya to keep the bloat alive, not choke the bastard.”
“The son-of-a-bitch was starting to come around. What was I supposed to do…hit him again?” Weaver explained. “I’m about out of patience with this bullshit.” The quick-tempered tone in his voice spoke volumes. The tension was getting to him.
“Righto,” Kilmer replied. More upsetting would have been walking into the stairwell and seeing the scientist regaining consciousness. Weaver had acted correctly to neutralize the situation before something else went awry. “Listen, mate, I jumped ya wrong. My bad. This gig’s g’ttin’ more complicated by the minute. Help me git ‘im to the lab. I need his thumb for the security scan.”
They both stooped and once again awkwardly heaved the sagging scientist to his feet, securing his arms over their shoulders. They walked swiftly to reduce their exposure and get through the open hallway as quickly as possible. Finally reaching lab 313, Kilmer lifted one of the scientist’s thumbs and pressed down on the reader.
“Slide his card through the scanner,” he directed Weaver. “This’ll git us out o’ the bloomin’ hallway.”
As soon as Weaver swiped the card, they heard a slight click as the magnetic bolt locking the door was deactivated. The security system had recognized the proper sequence to enter the office. They shuffled the unconscious scientist into the lab and placed him indelicately on the floor, glad to be free of his dead weight. The lab was partially illuminated but otherwise vacant-a relief to both men.
“Good oh, check the other room. Ferret anythin’ we can use for seedin’ clues,” instructed Kilmer. “I’ll search in here.”
“Got it,” Weaver responded, regaining his normally unflappable disposition. “I’m stoked we got through the hall without being seen. That felt like a minor miracle.”
They had been in the lab only a few minutes when a sharp knock on the door startled Kilmer, freezing him in place.
Who the hell could that be?
THREE
“Dr. Levassuer,it’s securtity.” There was a pause, and then, “Are you okay?” barked a guard’s husky voice from the outside hallway.
There was another firm rap on the door. “Dr. Levassuer…Sam, can you hear me? Is everything all right in there? Your scanner was just activated a few minutes ago. I need to know if everything’s all right.”
Damnit! Kilmer moved quickly to the door and made an instantaneous decision. He cursed himself for failing to anticipate that his first botched attempt to enter the lab would have alerted security. A guard would normally be dispatched to investigate the matter. His error had uncharacteristically and fatally compromised the mission beyond recovery. Without further thought or hesitation, he reached into the small of his back and extracted his compact 380 Beretta automatic.
In one swift move, he jerked the door open and fired one shot into the middle of the guard’s forehead. The burly man was momentarily stunned to see Kilmer pointing a gun at him, but he had no time to react. The hollow point that was shot through his head blew the entire back of his skull and most of his brains onto the wall directly behind him. He stood there for a fraction of a second with an incomprehensible look on his face then crashed to the floor. He lay there involuntarily twitching, his heart still beating, but pumping an expanding crimson pool over the beige tile of the hallway floor. The life force slowly ebbed from his body.
“ Let’s roll,” Kilmer yelled to Weaver, who raced from the back of the lab at the sound of the gunshot. The first thing Weaver saw was Kilmer standing over the guard. Kilmer hastily re-holstered his revolver and caught a look of disgust in his partner’s face as they rejoined in the hallway.
“No choice, pally” Kilmer said, noticing that Weaver was about to vocalize shock and rebuke for what had just taken place.
“Poor bloke was in the wrong place at the wrong time. My bad. Crikey, Holloway’s gonna be madder ’n a cut snake…should o’ guessed I tripped an alarm from the git go.”
“Jeee-sus-key-rist,” Weaver slowly replied.
“Let’s make tracks, mate,” Kilmer said, trying to regain his composure. “Cavalry’s on the way. Git to the rendezvous.”
Weaver looked over the carnage in the hallway. “ Damnation ” was the only word that came to mind. He reached down to retrieve the guard’s radio. They could hear security trying to contact him every few seconds. Keeping the radio would apprise them of any new developments as they made their retreat.
“I didn’t have time in the lab to get into the computer system, but I did mess up the work area to make it look like I was searching for a password. This will make for some initial confusion,” Weaver said, as both men ran to the stairwell at the end of the corridor.
“Yer aces,” Kilmer replied. “We’ll have time later to pitch the cricket if we survive. Just now, we run the rest of the op as planned.”
The men entered the stairwell in earnest, taking the stairs two at a time to the roof. They followed the chatter on the dead guard’s radio, hoping they didn’t meet anyone as they made their way up.
As expected, the night-shift chief of security had been alerted when he heard what sounded like a gunshot from one of the upper floors. The chief had previously dispatched guard Frank Santos to investigate the silent alarm from the third-floor radiation lab, and was now frantically trying to raise a response from his trustworthy fellow guardsman.
“Frank, this is central, come in,” repeated the guard’s radio at intervals of every five seconds. “Frank, if you’re okay, give me a signal,” the chief repeated.
The failure to get a response from Santos after the first few tries prompted the chief to call the Palo Alto police department for backup. He held his position in the front lobby while monitoring the cameras that were his eyes to different points throughout the building. Because there was radioactive material used for research projects in the building, most of the video surveillance was oriented toward the outside-watching for anyone trying to break in. Once inside the building, however, there was a dearth of video surveillance, a condition that security had often said was a glaring deficiency.
“Frank, PAPD is on its way. Hang in there, buddy. If you can hear me, give me a signal,” the chief persisted, in frustrating but determined attempts to raise his partner.
“Marlon, ya copy?” Kilmer keyed into his mic. “PAPD’s on the way. We need an evac. Git down here, now.”
Both men were back on the roof and moving directly toward the center of the Quantum Building. They could hear the faraway wail of a police siren and knew there were only moments to evacuate. In no time, the entire block would be surrounded by SWAT and other tactical members from the Palo Alto Police Department.
“Ten-four, team leader. I’ve been monitoring radio traffic; confirming PAPD’s been dispatched to your location. Security reported a possible B amp;E with a non-responsive guard. They’re rolling two units, expected to approach from opposite sides of the building. Relax, team leader…I’ve got you in sight. It’s a walk in the park from here,” Travis Marlon radioed, much to Kilmer’s relief as he and Weaver both looked skyward for the helicopter that would bear them safely away.
The two men stood patiently as the Huey slowly descended toward the rooftop. Even over the roar of the rotor wash, the police sirens were growing appreciably louder now, signaling they would soon arrive at the Quantum Building.
A ladder made from high-tension cable was suspended beneath the helicopter. As it moved steadily closer to the center of the roof, Kilmer was careful to let the metal rope ladder touch the top of the building before grabbing hold. This allowed the static electricity generated from the rotating blades to discharge. Failing to do so would result in a seriously painful shock as the discharge went through his hand rather than into the building.