what remained, the point would be moot. The foundations of the building would be vaporized. Anything and anyone on the floors above would be wiped clean, and whatever secrets MRIS was keeping would be gone forever.
He planted a third charge at the base of the main furnace and took off at a run for the exit to the main hall. There was no reason to haul himself up using the dumbwaiter from here; he knew where the elevators would be located. The numbered floors would still be numbered, and since he was already on the lower floor, he knew where his next arrival point would be.
He saw no one in the hallway, but that didn’t surprise him. This was a maintenance level, and though there were probably a few people with access, that would likely be when something needed to be adjusted, tested or repaired. He found the corner where the elevator shafts were located.
There was no way to know if he had any time left at all. He opened a pouch on his belt and pulled out a small kit. He pressed the button to call the elevator.
While he waited he took a small moistened pad and modified the makeup he’d applied to his face and made minute adjustments to the musculature and shape of it. He worked quickly, and by the time the door to the elevator opened, he wore a thick mustache and his eyebrows had been darkened. He still wore the guard’s uniform and had his ID tag, but he no longer looked like Roy Boswell. He no longer stood or held himself like Boswell. He stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the lower of the main floors.
“Going up,” he breathed.
As he rode upward, noting that he’d been correct in assuming he would pass another floor, he unsnapped the flap on his holster and rested his hand on the butt of the 9 mm Glock. He had no way to know what to expect when the doors opened, and he didn’t want to be taken by surprise.
He had to be sure he gave the charges below enough time. They were set for three hours. He fully intended to be long gone by the time they went off, but if something went wrong, he needed to keep security focused on himself. The primary target was now below him, and if he was really lucky, what he’d already done would not only take that out, but would also collapse the upper floors.
It was also possible the explosion would funnel up the heating vents. It could be spectacular.
The elevator halted and the door slid open. Alex stepped out into the hall and turned immediately to his right. He swept the hall as he turned, seeing no one on his left. Then he heard scuffling feet. A voice rose over the hiss of the elevator’s door sliding closed behind him.
“Secure the elevators. He’s on this floor.”
The footsteps were approaching fast, and he saw a turn in the passageway ahead. Alex stepped slowly back toward the elevator, but he was too late. They rounded the corner. He knew he’d been spotted, but he didn’t panic. They were looking for Boswell, or someone who looked like Boswell.
He was a slightly taller man with a mustache. He wore the same uniform they wore.
Now was the time for one of those acceptable risks. There was a chance they would simply act if given a clue.
He stepped forward and called out, “The door just closed. I think he’s headed up.”
The two men who’d rounded the corner stopped. They stared at him for just a moment, then the guard in front nodded.
“Take the stairs,” he ordered. Alex nodded. He turned and started back down the hall. He’d only gone a few steps when he heard the squawk of a radio, and he’d just rounded the corner toward the main stairwell when he heard the cry behind him and knew his cover was blown.
To either side of the main stairs were long corridors. He flipped through the memorized diagrams in his mind and veered to the right. The labs were on the left, but the computer mainframes were on the right. If the data had been copied, backed up or stored, it would reside in the drive arrays on those systems, so if he could take out only one more wing, that was the logical target.
Boots pounded on the stairs and he moved more quickly. He heard voices behind him and he ran for a large double door on his right.
“You!” someone called from behind him.
“Stop!”
Alex ignored the command and lunged for the door. A shot fired suddenly and he moved instinctively, ducking left and reaching for the door to the computer lab. He twisted the handle and dived forward, shouldering through. He rolled, just as another shot ricocheted over his head. Then he was inside and moving. The computer banks were large. The room was air-conditioned, and fans hummed loudly. Banks of optical backup drives lined one wall. A glass-enclosed area housed more servers. As on the maintenance level, he saw no one standing or wandering around. Most of the computer management and would be handled from remote consoles. The machines themselves were kept in an environmentally controlled void. Alex scanned the room quickly and chose his spot.
The floor was made of removable deck plates that allowed access to the cabling below. He heard the doors burst open and knew he had only seconds.
There were detachable suction-cup-tipped handles used to lift the deck plates, and he grabbed one, attaching it to the nearest plate. The plate lifted from its rails easily and, with a quick snakelike slide, Alex dropped into the cable trench beneath it. As he went, he released the suction on the handle so it would fall off to the side. He lowered the plate gently in place over his head and lay very still.
From beneath the deck plate, voices sounded muffled. He heard barked orders, and he heard booted feet moving slowly past the servers.
“You might as well come out,” an amplified voice rose to a volume he could make out over the machinery. “Switch all internal cameras to thermal imaging.”
Alex took stock of his position. The cable trench was wide. He could move relatively quickly. He grabbed one of the explosive packs from his belt and affixed it to the cable closest to him. He worked quickly, and then started crawling forward.
The trenches followed the course of the passageway between servers. When he heard someone above him, he remained very still, and when they moved on, he followed. The same noise that muffled the voices of the team searching for him helped to conceal his movements. He worked his way back toward the door, and along the way he managed to get two more explosive devices placed.
At the door, he found that there was a narrow, oval opening that led through the wall and into the access beneath the floor beyond the door. The hallway flooring was solid, if he got beneath it; he might not have a way out. As he lay just inside the doorway deciding whether to chance the crawl space or make his break, the lights grew dim. The sound of the machines around him groaned as fans slowed, winding down to a deathly, echoing silence. He hadn’t thought they could get the systems shut down so quickly, and he silently cursed himself for moving too slowly.
“You will never escape,” a voice called to him.
“You might as well come out now and save us all a lot of trouble.” The voice was heavily accented with an Eastern European inflection. “You will not be hurt if you turn yourself in now.”
Another voice crackled over a radio and Alex picked up the message clearly.
“Explosive devices detected on levels five and three.”
“Find them,” the first voice snapped. There was a squawk of static.
Alex crawled into the oval wall spacer and glanced up and down the outer hallway. There was no light at all, except a small square down the hall and across several runs of cables. It had to be another way out. He slid onto the snaking lengths of cable and crawled across. Pulling himself along with his hands, his fingers screamed in pain.
Halfway across his left hand locked, but Alex ignored it, using it like a claw and pushing with his booted toes, while simultaneously trying not to make any sound. It was less critical beneath the hall, but as soon as they figured out how he’d disappeared in the computer room, and where he’d gone, they’d be on him.
After what seemed far too long, he reached the gray-lit area on the far side of the hall. It was another oval passage between walls, and Alex slid through without hesitation. He immediately felt an increase in temperature. His mind flipped through floor plans, and he realized he was directly above the furnace area. It had to be a maintenance room, possibly leading to laboratories with access to the main passages.
Lifting the first deck plate he came to, Alex peered around the room. He saw duct work immediately ahead. He pulled himself up and out, lowering the plate back into place as quietly as possible. The space he stood in was a small, shadowed area. The room beyond consisted of several racks of operator panels, a long workbench that held
