'The locals aren’t primary. This is a federal case.'
She leaned on the back of her chair and met his eyes. 'It’s my case.'
Andrus held her stare for a moment, then laughed. 'Oh, what the hell. I should’ve known better than to work around you. All right, consider yourself invited.'
Tess took his hand. 'Thanks, Gerry. And I’m sorry if I’m pushing too hard. I don’t mean to make your life difficult.'
He laughed again. 'Yes, you do.'
22
During the long trip into downtown LA, Andrus was silent. He sat with Tess in the backseat of a sedan driven by an agent who was both chauffeur and bodyguard. Andrus had his laptop computer open before him and seemed to be scrolling through a document, but Tess noticed that his gaze often unfocused and became distant.
She had never seen him afraid, and she wasn’t sure if she was seeing it now. But something had him preoccupied, at least. And she was beginning to see the outlines of what it was.
As the freeway traffic blurred past, she broke the silence to ask, 'Are we meeting in the mayor’s office?'
'No. ATSAC.'
'At-what?'
'The ATSAC command center. Short for Automated Traffic Signal and Control.' Andrus still hadn’t looked up from his computer. 'All the traffic lights throughout LA are linked together in a network that’s supervised from a central command facility. Computers correct the timing of stoplights at intersections to adjust to changing traffic flow.'
'Cool. What does traffic management have to do with Mobius?'
'There’s more than traffic management involved.'
He said nothing further.
The driver dropped them off at City Hall East, one of several buildings that made up the sprawling Civic Center that stretched across nine city blocks. Andrus led her to an elevator on the parking level, where a guard stood post.
'Going down,' Andrus said.
The guard checked Andrus’s credentials and Tess’s also. Satisfied, he handed Andrus a card key. 'Here’s your ticket in, sir. And the downstairs access code is four-seven-two-four.'
Andrus swiped the card through an electronic reader. The elevator doors slid open. He and Tess stepped inside, and Andrus pressed the down arrow. Tess felt the start of their descent.
'ATSAC is underground?' she asked.
'Five floors down.'
'Sounds more like NORAD than a traffic operations center.'
'It’s a little of both. Remember Y2K? The city wanted a command center in case the millennium really did start with a bang. The mayor at the time, Riordan, decided to upgrade the existing ATSAC facility. Basically he created a high-tech bunker.'
'How so?'
'It’s earthquake resistant and supposedly can withstand a nuclear blast. It’s got multiply redundant communications systems-including copper-wire and fiber-optic links to the command stations of the Sheriff’s Department and LAFD. It’s fully self-contained and self-sufficient. There’s a dormitory, a kitchen, emergency food supplies to serve fifty people for two years. Backup diesel generators to take up the load in case of a power interruption.'
'Impressive, in a Dr. Strangelove sort of way.'
The elevator stopped. Tess exited with Andrus into a windowless corridor ending in a heavy metal door that reminded Tess of the door to a bank vault.
'Other cities did the same,' Andrus said. 'Even though Y2K was a nonevent, the command center has remained operational. You never know when it might be needed for the next earthquake, riot…'
'Or terrorist attack.'
'Precisely. In New York, the city’s counterterrorist command center was above ground-in the World Trade Center, to be exact. We saw how well that worked out.'
Andrus inserted the card key in another reader, and the bank-vault door slid open.
'Just like Star Trek,' Andrus said.
'Or Get Smart.'
They walked through, and the door closed behind them. There was a second door just ahead. The space between the two of them, Tess realized, was an air-lock corridor-what biohazard experts called a gray zone. The two doors would never be open simultaneously. The gray zone allowed for decontamination before passing from the outside world into the secure interior of the bunker.
'It’s sealed off from outside contamination,' she said. 'But the ventilation system must bring in air from above ground.'
'Sure-but the air passes through multiple filters to screen out biological and chemical toxins. Whatever’s outside can’t get in.'
'So basically this is the safest place in town.'
'That’s the idea, Tess.'
Andrus punched the access code into a numeric keypad mounted near the second door, which opened with a beep. Together they entered the main space of the ATSAC facility, a large circular room arrayed with computer workstations, each with its own red-upholstered swivel chair. The workstations were modular desks fitted together to form two concentric semicircles, facing a video wall that served as a luminous, multicolored moving background for half the room.
Tess estimated that there were forty flat-panel display screens mounted on the curving wall, each showing a mixture of live video, scrolling data, and computer-generated traffic grids and maps. Some screens were quartered into four images; others showed only a single scene. The views were of major surface-street traffic junctures, including the intersection of Wilshire Boulevard and Veteran Avenue, where the Federal Building, home of the FBI’s LA office, was located. Tess had heard that it was the busiest intersection in the city.
She looked around. The facility extended beyond this central room into glass-walled offices to her left and right, and corridors branching into darkness. This was a sizable complex. And it was buried five stories under City Hall, accessible only by a secret elevator. She wondered how many Angelenos even knew it existed. The government, she imagined, had not been eager to spread the word.
The soft hum of equipment mingled with the burr of recirculated air. She had never been inside a NASA facility, but she imagined that it would be like this. The noise and grit of the city seemed far away.
Thirty or forty people were already assembled inside, a few seated among the rows of swivel chairs, but most standing and conferring in small, restless groups. Andrus went through the meet-and-greet routine with many of them, while Tess hung back. She knew nobody here. But of course she was an outsider-a stranger to this city, and an uninvited presence in this room.
At eleven o’clock precisely, everyone took a seat. Tess saw that a few people, Tennant among them, had special chairs facing the workstations.
Andrus sat beside Tess in the row of chairs farthest from the video wall. She was surprised he wasn’t up front, and said as much in a whisper.
Andrus just smiled. 'This isn’t my show,' he said.
A woman seated at the front of the room stood up and spoke into a microphone, introducing herself as Sylvia Florez, manager of the Los Angeles Office of Emergency Management. Her voice ticked like a metronome, rapid and precise, as she reviewed the major players present for the briefing-the mayor, members of the city council, the chief of police, the county sheriff. Then there was a quick rundown of the other participants seated at the workstations.
From the city of Los Angeles, representatives from the Department of Public Works, the Department of
