Fatal Exception Read online

Page 14


  “Change your mind?” the gruff agent greeted Phin.

  “I think I found something. Ever heard of Project HYDRA?”

  “No — what is it?”

  “That's just it, I don't know. All I know is it's going on at Storm, somewhere in a hidden basement lab that I didn't even know existed.”

  “Basement, huh? Afraid I can't help you there. We've been trying to get the blueprints for the Storm campus for at least six months, but the whole thing is caught up in a judicial cluster-fuck.”

  “Shit.”

  “What else do you have for me?”

  “All I know is that e-mail supposedly from Tiffany came from that basement. And I have to get in there.”

  “That would not be advisable. We only asked you to get information for us, not to get yourself killed. Do yourself a favor — stay away from the Storm campus, see if you can find out anything else about Project HYDRA from home. Call the Brit, he may be able to help.”

  “Alright.”

  “Good luck, Phinnaeus. Let us know when you have anything else.”

  Phin hung up the phone and went back to his room to look up the phone number for Cecil Peabody.

  Chapter 25

  Collateral Damage

  “HELLO SIR. LET ME GET the door for you.”

  The bouncer stepped aside to allow Elliot Storm entry into the Meat Market. It was a busy Saturday night, but no night was too busy for a high roller like Mr. Storm to receive VIP treatment.

  Elliot walked past, not even bothering to look at the bouncer. He was on a mission, and he wasn't going to let anyone get in his way.

  As he entered the smoky club, he saw Sandy already on stage. He loved to watch her dance. He leaned against the back wall, studying her every move.

  “She's the one,” Elliot whispered to himself. “She's definitely the one.”

  He licked his lips and studied every inch of her graceful body. He knew he had to have her, and this night he would, one way or another.

  When her set ended and she walked off stage, Elliot peeled himself off the wall to follow her. He was focused on his prey.

  A large breasted stripper approached him in the middle of the club. She pressed her body into him and made a clumsy grab at his crotch.

  “Want a dance?”

  “Fuck off,” he replied, pushing past her and continuing forward.

  “Fag,” the stripper croaked at him before wandering off to find another wallet.

  When Elliot got to the doors to the backstage area, a large bouncer stood in his way.

  “Sorry sir, this area is off limits.”

  Elliot held up a tight roll of large bills.

  “I insist.”

  “Yes sir, I'll tell Sandy you're here.”

  “Why don't you just take me on back?”

  “Alright, follow me.”

  As Elliot knew, large sums of cash can have a great influence on the weak minded.

  Trailing the bouncer, Elliot walked down the hallway he'd walked down many times before. He'd grown to enjoy the smell, the sweat and perfume and sex that filled the air. He stood back as the bouncer knocked on the changing room door.

  The door opened just a crack, and the bouncer had a hushed conversation with the person on the other side. They were arguing about something.

  After a brief exchange, the bouncer turned back around to Elliot. “Sorry sir, Sandy isn't accepting visitors tonight.”

  “Really, I must insist.”

  “Sorry sir. It's time to go.”

  “It certainly is.”

  The bouncer didn't have time to even hear the crackle of the stun gun before it hit him, knocking him to the floor. Elliot pulled out a jet injector gun, pounced on top of him, and shot his system full of propofol.

  “Good night,” Elliot whispered. He dragged the body down the hall to the janitor's closet and shoved him inside, clicking the lock on the inside of the doorknob before closing the door.

  He walked back over to the changing room, smoothed down his hair, and knocked.

  “I said I don't . . . ” Sandy stopped mid-sentence when she saw Elliot through the crack.

  “Hi Sunshine,” Elliot said with a smile. “Mind if I come in?”

  “Actually, I was just getting ready to leave . . . ”

  Elliot pushed the door open anyway. Sandy backed up toward her duffel bag.

  “I just want to talk,” Elliot said. He shut the door behind him.

  Sandy continued inching toward her bag. “I don't think we have anything to talk about.”

  “Sure we do. Have you thought any more about my little proposition?”

  Sandy recoiled. “Yes.”

  “You want to be a dancer — a real dancer, not just another naked girl shaking her ass in a titty bar. I can make that happen for you.”

  “I'd rather earn it my way.”

  “Oh, you'd earn it my way too.”

  “I am a dancer, not a whore,” Sandy hissed.

  “Come now, it's not prostitution. People marry for money all the time. Why do you think rock stars constantly upgrade their wives every few years, until eventually they're in their sixties and still fucking girls in their twenties?”

  “You're not a rock star.”

  “I'm the rock star of the new age, Sunshine. Computers are the future of humanity, and I'm one of the pioneers expanding the frontier. Is it too much for me to ask to have a beautiful woman by my side for all the glamorous parties, the charity events? Think about it — traveling the world, seeing things most people only dream of seeing, having everything you want. And the only tradeoff is that you'll have to spend time with me. Am I really that bad?”

  “You're a fucking psycho, and I'm done listening to you. I don't care how much you offer me. I'm not going with you.”

  “Then we'll do things the hard way.”

  Unlike the bouncer before, Sandy had time to feel a surge of terror upon hearing the stun gun's electric growl before she fell limp to the floor.

  * * *

  494E534944455254524144494E4700

  * * *

  “I WAS WONDERING WHEN YOU were going to call me.”

  Phinnaeus struggled to hide the panic in his voice. It was a stark contrast to Cecil's calm, crisp diction.

  “I need your help.”

  “Alright,” Cecil responded.

  “I think Elliot Storm has been kidnapping people. He's got my girlfriend . . . I mean, he has Tiffany. And some other people too, I think.”

  “Okay, what can I do?”

  “Well, I found some things in the network. There's a basement level on the campus -”

  “I know about the basement.”

  “You do?”

  “Most of the worker bees don't even know it's there, but I was there when it was constructed. It's vast — far larger than you'd expect for a simple server room.”

  “What else can you tell me?”

  “There's only one low-security way down there — a service elevator near the main security desk. The door isn't marked, and the only way in is by having the right clearance on your key card.”

  “I think I can manage that part.”

  “Wait. Are you planning on going down there?”

  “Yes.”

  “I think that's an extraordinarily bad idea.”

  “Why?”

  Cecil took a deep breath.

  “There's something you need to know. Elliot Storm isn't working alone. He's got a doctor working down in that basement doing all the work for him. See, Elliot's no computer genius — never was. He's more the egomaniac-slash-sociopath type. The entire company was built on lies. He manipulated his so-called friends into building the roots of a vast empire, then he had them all killed. Of course, the police could never prove anything, but the feds have been keeping an eye on Elliot ever since.”

  “So what does this doctor have to do with it?”

  “I can't say for sure. I know he's possibly even more twisted than Storm. I don't know what they're up
to down there, but it's almost certainly dangerous, and it's definitely a secret they'll kill to protect.”

  “At the very least, I need to get into the basement subnet to see what they're doing,” Phin said.

  “That disk I gave you . . . ”

  “It won't work. I can't break through.”

  “I thought this might happen, so I installed a back door into the basement subnet, but it requires a unique access code. I can't risk transmitting it over the Internet. I think Storm has my home network bugged. You'll need to come here and get the original disk. I live right around the corner from the Storm campus. 612 Vista View.”

  “Okay, I'm coming now.”

  “That would probably be best. If what you suspect is true, that poor girl may not have much time. I'll see you when you get here.”

  Cecil hung up the phone and rushed to his home office. His computer desk was lit by a single low-power lamp, and was covered in papers and disks. He found the disk he was looking for and slipped it into his back pocket.

  “Okay,” he said to himself. “Better see what else he might need.”

  Cecil reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He'd quit smoking years before, but the events of the past few weeks had driven him back to his old crutch. He lit up, took in a lungful of smoke, and then let the poisonous satisfaction drift out of his mouth. “Calm down. This will all be over soon.”

  Knock knock.

  “That was fast.”

  Cecil went to the door and looked through the peephole, but it was pitch black outside. He took a deep breath and unlocked the deadbolt.

  When the door swung open, Cecil came face to face with Dr. Klaus Reinhart, clad in his new robotic exoskeleton. Cecil's jaw dropped.

  “Guten Tag.”

  Chapter 26

  The Revelation

  * * *

  324C4954544C45324C41544500

  * * *

  PHIN SLAMMED ON HIS BRAKES as soon as his car rounded the corner. Smoke and flames were leaping out of the windows of the house at 612 Vista View.

  Not even bothering to close the car door, Phinnaeus ran to the house and through the front doorway. The door had apparently been torn off the hinges.

  “Cecil!” he called out. He attempted to shield his face from the heat and smoke as he moved into the house.

  “Cecil!” he continued to call, checking each room as best he could without getting burned. Finally, he turned the corner into the office and saw Cecil lying on the floor. His face was broken and swollen. He was still breathing — bubbles of blood popped periodically on his lips and nostrils.

  “Oh God!” Phin rushed over and grabbed him. “I have to get your out of here,” he said as he started dragging him toward the door.

  “No!” Cecil objected. “Just take this.” He shoved a crimson-stained computer disk and a card key into Phin's hands. “That will get you into the basement. Now go.”

  “Not yet. I have to get you out of here first.”

  Phin was never the strongest or the most powerful, but he summoned all of his strength and, against all odds, managed to drag Cecil's broken body out of the house and onto the front lawn before the flames could catch up with them.

  By now, the neighbors were all standing around in their bathrobes and nightgowns. Some men ran up and finished pulling Cecil clear of the house. Phin wheezed and coughed, but was otherwise unhurt.

  Unfortunately the same could not be said of Cecil. His body had been battered and his face was smashed almost beyond being recognizable as human. He took his last bloody breath and died there on the lawn as the wailing sirens of the fire trucks rounded the corner.

  Phin decided it would be best to get away. He joined the crowd of onlookers for a moment before deeming it safe, and then he slipped away and started making his way toward the Storm campus by foot.

  * * *

  33304D494E534F524C45535300

  * * *

  ELLIOT STORM PARKED HIS EXPENSIVE sedan outside the loading dock. He popped the trunk and walked around.

  “Good,” he said to himself upon seeing that Sandy was still unconscious inside.

  Leaving the car unattended, Elliot went inside the loading dock to get a cart. He wheeled the squeaky contraption out to his car. By the time he returned, Sandy was starting to stir. She wasn't quite conscious yet, but she was starting to move around and make noises that suggested she'd be fully awake within minutes.

  The dose of propofol hadn't been enough. Elliot knew he might need two doses, so that's what he'd taken with him, but he'd used half of his milk of amnesia on that gorilla of a bouncer.

  Elliot knew he had to act fast. He strained to lift her body — just 106 pounds, but heavy for someone who was used to getting everyone else to do all the work — and laid her down on the cart. He slammed the trunk shut and rushed the cart into the building and toward the service elevator.

  “Doctor!” Elliot yelled out as soon as the elevator doors opened on the basement level. “Doctor! Time to get to work!”

  There was no answer. Panic started to set in. Sandy would be awake any minute, and Elliot didn't have any idea how to hook her up to the machines by himself.

  He shoved the cart into Room 6 and rolled her body onto the operating table. She was starting to move more now, and was actually making full words.

  “Where . . . where . . . ”

  Soon she'd be speaking in complete sentences, then she'd open her eyes and see him, then she'd go into a fear-fueled rampage and start kicking and screaming and fighting back. There was nothing Elliot hated more than a woman who fought back. He wrapped the nylon straps of the operating table around her body and tightened them down.

  “There, nice and snug,” he whispered like a mother tucking in her child. Now she'd be confined to the table even if she did manage to wake up.

  Elliot wasn't going to let that happen if he could help it. He grabbed a nearby syringe and plunged the needle carelessly into Sandy's neck. No need to bother with an alcohol swab. The needle hit a tender bunch of nerves and muscle, and Sandy fell into consciousness with a scream.

  “Where the fuck am I? What are you doing to me?”

  Elliot slammed down the plunger on the syringe, shooting more propofol into Sandy's neck just as she started struggling against the straps.

  “Goodnight, Sunshine,” Elliot whispered. “See you again soon.”

  Elliot left the operating room and bolted the door. She would be out cold now for at least four hours, which hopefully would be enough time to at least find Dr. Reinhart.

  Just then, the service elevator sprang to life. Other than the SpidR, Elliot knew only Dr. Reinhart had the clearance codes to come down the elevator, so he stood and waited in the corridor.

  Sure enough, it was Dr. Reinhart — only, instead of sitting in his usual wheelchair, he was encased in some sort of contraption, with big metal arms and legs wrapped around his own limp and useless appendages.

  “What's this, Doctor?”

  “Surely you didn't expect me to use my own broken form to carry out ze next phase of ze project, Herr Sturm.”

  The doctor walked off the service elevator, causing minor seismic tremors with each step.

  “Where have you been?” Elliot inquired.

  “Tying up some loose ends,” Dr. Reinhart said. Elliot looked down and saw blood smeared across one of the arms off Reinhart's suit, and decided not to ask any more questions. It was easy enough to order Reinhart around when he was confined to the wheelchair, but he might get a little ambitious now that he had more mobility and strength.

  Elliot decided to test his loyalty.

  “My newest . . . subject is waiting in Room 6,” Elliot said. “I'd like to get started with her as soon as possible.”

  “Very vell.”

  Good, Elliot thought. As long as the doctor was still on board, things could still go forward as planned.

  * * *

  534F4C4944534E414B4500

  * * *

 
PHIN ARRIVED AT THE STORM campus to find it apparently deserted. The light poles painted isolated circles of illumination on the dark asphalt of the parking lot. The only light on in the entire building itself was, as usual, the light in Elliot Storm's corner office on the third floor.

  There were security cameras all over the perimeter of the campus as well as on the building itself. Phin knew they were stationary, so he just had to find a path through them and he'd be able to get inside without a problem. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the security card Cecil had given him. This was the first time he'd given it a good hard look — it seemed to be blank. The ID cards for the building normally had a picture, employee name and ID number, but this one was just stark white except for a bloody fingerprint. Phin hoped the card worked, or this would be the shortest breaking-and-entering in history. Moving quickly, Phin stayed behind the fancy landscaping as much as possible. He wasn't a trained burglar or ninja, but he knew his chances were best if he could get to the door undetected.

  He worked his way around to a dark side of the building before moving in to hug the wall. The cold brick hid him in the shadows. Hoping that the cameras didn't detect motion or operate on infrared, Phin inched toward the door. As he got close, he realized that there was a camera aiming right at the door, mounted to the ceiling just inside the door. He'd come this far, but there was no way he could just walk in and not be seen — if someone happened to be watching.

  Maybe a diversion was in order. He'd seen that plenty of times on TV: a magician distracts you with one hand while he removes your wristwatch with the other. Maybe it would work for getting into the building too.

  Phin worked his way back into the shadows and began to look around. He knew the windows throughout the building were wired to the security system, so that may be his best bet.

  Sneaking along the wall, sticking to the darkness, Phin picked up a rock. He moved to the opposite end of the building and located a nice, hidden window.