Shadow Maker by James R. Hannibal Read Free Book Online Page B

backpack and keyed his radio. “Janos, what have you done?”
    Janos made no response.
    â€œAdnan, go down to one and check on Janos. Find out what that
imbecile
has broken this time.” Pavel emphasized the word
imbecile
, hoping that Janos could hear him.
    â€œI always check on him. Why can’t you check on him?”
    Pavel glanced down at his chutney sandwich. It called to him. “Because I am in charge and you are closer. Now get moving.”
    Half a minute passed as Pavel took a sip of coffee and then raised his sandwich for the second time. As his teeth sank into the soft white bread, the hallway went completely dark. “What now?” he mumbled through a mouth full of chutney. He swallowed and picked up the radio again. “Adnan, come in.”
    Adnan did not reply.
    â€œAdnan? Janos?”
    Pavel got up and started walking toward the elevators, muttering about the incompetence of his crew. He tried to raise his flashlight, but the lanyard tangled on his belt, forcing him to hold the sandwich in his mouth and look down to unhook it. Finally, he flipped on the bright beam and looked up again. His blood ran cold. The chutney sandwich fell to the floor with a light splat.
    A menacing figure barred his path barely a meter away, cloaked in black with a wide hood that obscured his face. The security guard went for his nightstick, but he was too late. He barely saw the flash of the knife before it ripped across his throat. He grabbed at the wound with both hands and felt the sickening gush of his own warm blood pulsing through his fingers. He tried to speak, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t even scream.
    â€”
    The hooded figure stepped around the gurgling guard without waiting for him to fall. It was not until he turned down the next hallway that he heard the
crack
of the man’s skull hitting the tile next to his ruined sandwich. At the far end of the hall, he found the facility’s cold-storage locker. A red light glowed above the door, warning that structural power to the refrigeration units had been compromised, leaving them on the auxiliary batteries. The door was still locked, secured by a keycard reader and biometric pad that were also supported by backup batteries, but that was expected.
    The intruder reached into the fold of his cloak and removed an access card that read VARGA, BIOCHEM . He swiped the card, causing the red LED on the biometric pad to turn orange and blink. Letting the card fall to the floor, he reached into his cloak again. This time he produced a white cloth, stained with blood, pinched between his fingers. As he raised it to the pad, the cloth unraveled over his hand to reveal a severed thumb. He pressed the thumb against the pad and the LED turned green. The lock clicked open.
    Inside, the intruder opened a large canvas satchel and began sweeping chemicals off shelves. Most fell into the bag. Others fell to the floor. Glass vials filled with blue, amber, and clear liquids shattered at his feet. When the bag was half-full, he went to the rear of the locker and found a tall locked cabinet. He smashed the glass with his elbow. Again, the intruder indiscriminately swept vials and bottles into his satchel—this time continuing until it was full. Then he bent down to the bottom shelf and carefully lifted a pressurized titanium container. On all four sides of the box, bright yellow labels read BIOHAZARD: CONTROLLED SUBSTANCE .

CHAPTER 9
    G et packed,” said Nick, letting the door slam behind him as he rushed across the tile foyer of his home. Katy sat on the living room couch working on her latest hobby. Photos and colored paper lay all around her on the cushions, a large open binder on her lap. Their son sat on the carpet at her feet, giggling as he knocked down stacks of blocks.
    Katy did not look up from her scrapbooking. “My day was fine, dear. How was yours?”
    â€œMy day’s not over yet. I have to ship out tonight. Pack up.