He walked over to her as Jemma announced she was almost ready. “Hey, no hard feelings, huh?”
Heidi stared at the cellphone she’d just placed carefully on the table. “What? Oh, yeah. I guess that really depends where we are this time tomorrow.”
Bodie accepted that with a smile. “I guess you’re right.” He nodded at the phone. “Is everything okay?”
“I have an eleven-year-old daughter, Bodie, and I’m stuck in Greece. Trouble is — I want to be in Greece and I want to be with her. I just can’t seem to make it work.”
Bodie scratched at a clean-shaven chin. “I wish I could help, but I’m an antisocial, untrusting thief who needs friends. Go chew on that for a while.”
Heidi let out a brief laugh. “Thank God. At least you’re not hitting me with honey-laden advice. Shit that never works.”
“Nah, I’ll leave that to the jerks. However,” he went on. “If you ever need a pointer on how to break in to your local Walmart — give me a bell.”
Heidi laughed harder, pushing the phone call aside. “Bodie,” she said. “You and your team are good guys. I like you. I just wish we both operated on the same side of the law.”
Bodie felt the same. At that moment, Jemma called out: “We ready?”
He watched Heidi’s game face replace the open countenance she was giving him. She took a deep breath and stood up.
“Let’s go.”
Olympia train station was a small newly painted building that sat washed in sun rays, open and bordered only by a few trees. The tracks ran past the entrance, with a small platform in between and now, as the sun began to go down, the place was sparsely inhabited.
Bodie watched a bright white train come and go, disgorging just three passengers and admitting two. As a group they appeared instantly suspicious so tried to split up and wander aimlessly. Jemma had briefed them on the station’s layout and they knew exactly where they had to go.
Comms were ready. Heidi spoke up. “Everyone ready?”
Nobody responded negatively so she gave the go. Turning from tourists into a cohesive team, they moved in.
Jemma walked with a powerful CIA engineered tablet in her hand. “All right, I have authority over the security feed, thanks to Gunn. Sending it over to you now. Also got the tunnel’s coordinates and measurements.” She whistled. “It’s almost one hundred and fifty meters long, retrofitted before the First World War. I see a guard station at each end, communication cables, two men at each end and, no doubt, an elaborate way of gaining entry. Guards are…” She squinted. “Armed. I can’t make out manufacturers, but expect firepower. And now… if I used the feed to follow the cables all the way from the guard station I can estimate the entry point.”
She looked up.
“Right there.”
A door existed away from the station platform. It was old, unpainted, unattractive but looked sturdy. It was fitted with a key lock, nothing more. Bodie looked away quite quickly, so as to give the team as long as possible before they were made.
“First barrier,” he said, reading out the blemished brass sign. “Supplies.”
“Yeah, ’cause ‘private’ would invite the curious,” Jemma said.
“Where’s our Illuminati?” Bodie asked.
“I’m right here,” Cross said, coming up to his shoulder and passing without acknowledgement.
“Perfect man for the job,” Cassidy said.
The redneck ex-military man edged toward the door. Bodie saw no cameras around and assumed it may have attracted unwanted attention. So the door was key holder only, and Eli Cross held the key to any building always in the palm of his hand.
Eight seconds, and the lock clicked. Cross pulled the door open and Bodie took a quick look inside. Sure enough it was a supply room, of sorts, full of boxes and equipment.
“Expect CCTV,” Gunn said. “I’m getting some small feedback from inside that room.”
Cross entered. “Far door,” he said. “Keypad protected, card entry.”
“Use the card.”
Gunn, years ago, had prepared a credit card style device that read codes by listening to the radio frequency of the keypad, mating microcontrollers. It snared and reran the codes within seconds using several inbuilt microchips, similar to but much more powerful than a standard credit card. Cross inserted his into the slot and waited a few seconds.
“Done.”
Gunn hesitated no longer, but fed a loop into the CCTV system. The loop showed an empty supply room.
“Go team,” he said.
“Hope your van’s comfy,” Jemma said, sounding a little nervous.
“Yeah, Jeff and I are needed back here. Sorry, cat burglar.”
Bodie followed her into the room and walked over to where Cross held a door open. “Nothing to see here,” Cross said. “Steady slope probably leads down to the first guard room. We ready for that?”
The entire team couldn’t crowd into the room, so Bodie waved Cross ahead. “After you.”
“This is where it gets tricky,” Gunn told them. “Human traits can never be predicted.”
“Explains why we know you so well,” Cassidy said.
Cross was walking slowly down the tunnel. Gunn had no idea what the man might need to gain access, but controlling the cameras and computers was a good first step. Bodie eased his way inside, knowing Cross would speak up the second he saw a camera.
“You ready to loop the tunnel feed?” he asked Gunn.
“Yep. It’s on the same network so good to go.”
Ahead, Bodie saw Cross stop. Before him, filling the tunnel, stood a wooden hut with a glass window, almost like a ticket booth, with a door built into the side. A head poked out of the booth, staring at Cross.
The moment of truth. The team had reasoned that Illuminati members would not use an ID entry method, they would not carry cards or fobs or any kind of remote device. Instead, it would be a facial identification system, possibly fingerprints, run in-house and closed off from the outside world. Just one more way of keeping their secret.
“Good evening, sir,” the guard said. “Have you visited before?”
Cross took a gamble, shaking his head. “No.”
“Place your hand on the tablet.”
Bodie couldn’t see it, but assumed Cross had just been handed a small screen. As of now, the entire operation was up to Sam Gunn.
Seconds passed. The soldiers grew itchy. Bodie made himself breathe deeply.
“You’re not in the system, sir,” the guard said, suspicion packed into his tone of voice.
“We go,” Cassidy said. “Ready boys?”
“Wait!” Gunn said. “Just got it.”
“Try again,” Cross said evenly. “I didn’t come all this way to be turned around at the gate.”
“Of course.”
Twelve tense seconds passed and then the guard apologized and admitted Eli Cross. They wanded him for weapons, patted him down, then let him through.
“Please proceed to the next station.”
Bodie waited enough time for Cross to traverse the one hundred and fifty meters and then told Gunn to loop the feed. Cross would now be taking care of the far set of guards. Cassidy and the Rangers ran down the small slope, silencers fitted, shooting the first set of guards without warning.