With the first level completed, they took another set of stairs, on the other side of the building, down to the next basement level and made quick work of the parking section. By that point, Hallie was feeling almost bored. She could not fault the tac team’s efficiency. There was nothing for her or Girard to do.
After a brief discussion, Frollo opted to complete the checks of the parking before heading into the machine rooms. This time, they went down the ramp to the next level.
As the team peeled off to one side, Hallie’s attention was caught by a perfectly anonymous car tucked in next to the ramp.
“That looks like the car Quella described,” Hallie said to Girard, pitching her voice low so as not to disturb the tac team. She thought she was most likely wrong. She couldn’t imagine a circumstance where Findo Trask and Russet Welliver would have been able to simply drive their vehicle into the parking lot under the Conclave building.
“It does,” Girard agreed. “It’s a common model, though, and the plate doesn’t match the target vehicle. All the same, let’s get it checked.” He turned away, lifting a hand to draw Frollo’s attention.
Hallie moved a little closer to the car, the hair lifting at the back of her neck, and put her hand on her gun. That gesture was becoming more instinctive the longer she carried the weapon, which was almost as unsettling as the sensation that had made her pause. There was something wrong. Something there.
She started when Frollo and Dechtire moved past her, their weapons ready.
“Hold!” she said.
To her surprise, they stopped at once. Frollo flicked a glance towards her. “What’s up?”
“There’s something wrong here,” Hallie said. She wanted to kick herself for how silly that sounded, except no one around her seemed to think it was silly.
Girard gave her a serious look. “What do you sense?”
“Ah, that’s it,” she said, skin twitching. “It’s a sense. Magic. There’s been magic used here.”
“This is the Conclave building,” Girard said. He wasn’t arguing with her, just stating a fact. Pushing her to look further.
“Yes, and there have been little pockets of magic here and there all the way through the building and to here. But this feels different. It’s, well, the best way I can describe it is sticky. Unclean. The other magic has had something like almost purity to it. This is different.” Hallie forced herself to stop babbling and looked at Frollo instead. From what she remembered, he had some sensitivity to magic. “Do you feel it as well?”
“There is something here, yes,” Frollo said. “Centred around this car. Caerleon, what’s the story with it?”
“Registration comes back to a Brade Watkins. Member of the security technical team,” Caerleon replied, reading off the screen. He read out the time that the car had passed through the security checkpoint. “Gate guard noted that there was another person in the vehicle. Another member of the security team, but there’s no name or ID provided. That’s odd.”
“Modron, you and Griff go to the gate and find out from the guard why there’s no ID on the passenger,” Frollo said. For a moment, Hallie wondered why they didn’t just radio the request through, then remembered the directors’ warnings about comms. Modron and Griff didn’t question the order, just headed off up the ramp at a steady run. “Tortain, Dechtire, sweep this vehicle. Everyone else, take a few steps back.”
Hallie moved back with Girard, Frollo and Caerleon as Tortain and Dechtire stepped forward, producing handheld scanners from their heavy equipment belts.
“There’s a trace of something,” Dechtire reported after a tense few moments. She took two measured steps forward and Hallie could see her jaw tighten, most of her face hidden by the helmet. “Yeah. There’s definitely something here.”
“Can you be more specific?” Frollo asked. There was no trace of the reckless young man now. He was completely professional, cool and calm.
“Positive for some kind of explosive, but it’s a faint reading,” Tortain confirmed, moving to stand an arm’s length to one side of Dechtire. “Suggests to me that the vehicle was carrying explosive material for a while, but it’s no longer here.” He moved away from the vehicle in a semi-circle, holding his scanner away from the car. “There’s no trace in the air for us to follow.”
“Right,” Frollo said. He moved a few more paces away, halfway up the ramp, and tried his radio. “Rojas, this is Frollo. Come back.” There was a pause, then he repeated the request.
He came back down the ramp, shaking his head. “Radio’s out for now. Nothing but static. We’re confident there’s nothing that’s going to go boom in the vehicle?”
“Can’t be absolutely sure,” Tortain answered, “but reasonably sure.”
“I’d like to look inside it,” Frollo said. He sounded as calm as if he was considering what to have for lunch and not possibly opening up a car primed to explode.
“Could we try poking it with a stick first?” Hallie suggested. She didn’t really want to be caught in an explosion.
Tortain gave a muffled laugh. Dechtire and Frollo grinned.
“Keep this up, and we may make you an honourary team member,” Frollo told her. “Tortain, there was a fire extinguisher on the wall back that way. Should make a decent impact. Enough to set off any ordnance.”
“Right you are,” Tortain said, and headed over to the wall Frollo had pointed at. As he was coming back, a large, bright redfire extinguisher in one hand, Modron and Griff came running back down the ramp. Barely out of breath.
“Gate guard swears he recorded the name of the second person in the car, except he can’t now remember it, and doesn’t have it written down anywhere,” Modron reported. Another wave of apprehension slid over Hallie. That didn’t seem at all right for a building as closely guarded as this one. From the grim expressions around her, Hallie guessed her reaction was shared. Then Modron’s eyes landed on the fire extinguisher. “We’re going to throw rocks at something?”
