He parked in front of the K9 school, hopped out, and headed inside.Normally, a security officer would be stationed near the door, but David didn’t see one.He must have taken a circuit around the building.David held his ID up to the door scanner, and it clicked softly and flashed green to let him know he was now allowed inside.
He pushed the door open and looked around.No one else was here.That was normal for the K9 school.Every once in a great while, Faith would teach a night class, but she was on an investigation right now.The regular Academy always had a few students training or catching up on homework, but the K9 school generally followed an ordinary business schedule.
He started to whistle as he walked to the veterinary clinic, but the noise echoed eerily off the walls, and he stopped a moment later.A touch of misgiving crawled across his shoulders.He shivered and reminded himself that the seeming emptiness was deceiving.This was one of the most secure places on Earth.No one was coming for him.
The misgiving didn’t quite go away, and he looked around again before he opened the door to the veterinary clinic.He saw nothing.He sighed and slid his key into the lock, but before he could turn it, a crashing noise behind him drew his attention.He spun around, pressing his back to the door and gasping.
Across the expansive lobby in front of the veterinary office, a large stained glass art piece depicting an FBI K9 handler with his dog tilted forward, hovered precariously, then fell all the way onto its face with another crash.David stared at the tears in the wall where the piece’s hooks had failed, heart thumping.When he finally registered that the sound he’d heard was harmless, he sighed and put his hand on his chest.
He laughed nervously and turned back to the door, fingers trembling.He turned the key in the lock, and it moved easily.
Too easily.
He stopped with his hand on the door, heart thudding again.Faith had told him before that most civilians froze when they encountered danger, and that it was the worst possible reaction one could have, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything else.
Leave.Leave now.Go back to your car, drive to Washington, and call Rogers and Hammerton on the way.Tell them there was a break-in, and security’s nowhere to be found.
Where were they anyway?Why wouldn’t they come running when they heard the stained-glass drop?
Because it’s no big deal,another voice said.And they probably didn’t hear it from outside the building anyway.As for the door, Kevin probably forgot to lock it when he left.It wouldn’t be the first time.
The two voices, one advocating flight and the other perseverance, warred in his mind, but gradually, the one advocating perseverance won.David put his hand on the door and slowly pushed it open.He revealed an empty waiting room with a perfectly clean carpet, well-arranged chairs, and magazines laid out in a perfect fan shape on the coffee table in the middle of the room.He walked inside, leaving the door open behind him, and headed for the staff only door next to the reception desk.
He put his hand on the door and turned it slowly, flinching when the latch clicks.He paused for a second, listening closely.He heard nothing.
He pushed the door open, flinching again when the hinges creaked.I need to oil those damned things.
He stepped into the hallway beyond, eyes flicking right and left.Everything seemed to be in its place.Everything seemed to be where it belonged.
You’re overthinking this.Either you’re going to stay here and do more research, or you’re going to leave and go somewhere safe.
Once again, the voice of caution and the voice of perseverance warred in his brain, and once again, the voice of perseverance won.He walked to his office, each footfall returning a muted echo to his ears.This time, he didn’t bother waiting.He grabbed the handle and flung the door open before fear could cripple him again.
The room was empty.It was exactly as he’d left it earlier that afternoon.
He sighed and trudged to his desk.He set his phone down on the desk and started to sit when it occurred to him that he would absolutely kill for a cup of coffee.Decaf.He definitely didn’t need his heart rate to increase.
He headed to the breakroom—also empty, also untouched—and started a pot.He shook his head, chuckling to himself about his earlier fear.Faith would get a kick out of this story when it was all over and the 93rdTesting Brigade was brought to justice.Her poor, nervous husband jumping at shadows.
A quiet voice in the back of his mind told him that was nowhere close to how she would react, but he ignored it.He had made his choice, and acting like he was going to change his mind was a waste of time.
When the coffee was finished, he poured himself a cup and lifted it to his lips.Before he sipped, he inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and letting the promise of warmth relax his shoulders and soften his spine.He sipped, and the warmth spread through him to his fingertips, curling his toes and sending pleasant tingles through the roots of his hair.
He laughed again at his vivid internal description of the coffee, took another sip—sans poetic thoughts—and returned to his office.Time to get to work.
He booted his computer and opened the second user profile.The desktop blinked into existence, and David’s mind went blank.
It was gone.Everything.His folder containing all of his research, all of the files within, even the internet browser.It was all gone.The only thumbnail on his desktop was a single word document with a file size of fifteen kilobytes, the size of a blank or nearly blank file.
He swallowed and double clicked on the file.What opened was a single page with a single two-word note printed in the standard font.Somehow the visual understatement of the warning made it seem even more ominous than a loud, bold font would have.
Final warning.
His heart thumped loudly in his chest again, the beats coming slow and hard.He reached for his coffee cup, but his hands trembled too much, so he released the handle and left it on the table.
The absence of the security guards didn’t seem so benign anymore.Nor did the accidental fall of that art piece.Someone had been here in this building, in this office, and deleted every byte of David’s research.Someone could be here now watching to see what he would do, watching to ensure he took this warning seriously and headed home like a good little boy.
And he did.What else could he do?He wasn’t Faith.He couldn’t handle himself in a fight.He didn’t carry a gun, and he didn’t have the sixth sense to warn him if he was being followed or watched.If he did anything to suggest he wasn’t going to heed that final warning, then they definitely would take steps to make sure he couldn’t interfere.
