The Gatekeeper by Michelle Gagnon Read Free Book Online Page A

forever. He could still see Madison’s stricken expression when he explained that she’d be relocating to New York, and he’d see her when he could. Which hadn’t been as frequently as he’d hoped, not after the promotion. It had been over a month since his last visit, and that one had been disastrous. For a long, awkward weekend they all barely spoke. He’d chosen activities that were far too young for them, he realized belatedly, trips to the Museum of Natural History and the USS Intrepid. He’d lost touch with what teenage girls enjoyed. On Sunday night he’d secretly been relieved to drop them off. Randall cringed at the memory.
    He was such an idiot. He should have stuck it out, just a few more years and both girls would have been in college. Then he and Audrey could have gone their separate ways without all this drama. But it was far too late for that.
    Randall squared his shoulders and climbed out of the car carrying the travel mug. All his work materials were on-site. After a spying debacle a few years ago, the facility had increased security measures exponentially. Now anyone with access to highly classified material was forced to work in two-man teams. Not only were they supposed to keep an eye on each other’s computers and filing systems, they were actually expected to take a piss together. Fortunately the scientist he was paired with had a prostate problem. After a few awkward weeks at theurinals, Barry asked if Randall would mind ignoring that particular rule. Which made acquiring the first part of what the kidnappers wanted much easier than it should have been. It was probably why they targeted him in the first place.
    The lab complex was sprawled across acres, dozens of nondescript buildings painted a muted brown that melded into the barren landscape. It was a desolate section of the East Bay. The town proper had sprung up to service the facility, rows of coffee shops and cafés that closed at nightfall, leaving only a few neon-lit bars blinking desolately in the darkness. Randall had accepted a job here straight out of MIT, back when he and Audrey were newlyweds. The salary had been far above what any university was offering, the work promised to be groundbreaking with nearly limitless funding, and they could afford a house nearby. At the time it had been a no-brainer. Looking back, he wished to God he’d accepted that position at Berkeley, where at worst he’d be responsible for the lives of a few lab rats.
    At the entrance to the facility Randall nodded to the guard and held his ID card up to the scanner. After a brief pause it buzzed, and he strode down a long fluorescent hallway. The security became progressively tighter—to get into the inner sanctum, as people jokingly referred to it, he’d have to pass palm and retinal scans. Rumor had it that one of the other departments was working on a blood analysis machine. Randall hoped he wouldn’t still be here when going to work involved a daily needle prick.
    Once in his office he relaxed. Barry wasn’t there, but an identical travel mug on his desk issued steam. Which meant he was already taking bathroom break number one, of dozens to come. A guy with prostate problems should cut out the caffeine, Randall thought as he waited for his computer to boot up.
    A stream of numbers flew on-screen, coordinates pinpointing the location of loose nuclear fissile material worldwide. He and Barry had spent months cataloging this data as the U.S. government belatedly dealt with the fallout from the collapse of the Soviet Union, as well as the mass amounts of radioactive waste produced by everything from medical equipment to offshore drilling. It was staggering that no one had recognized this potential threat until 9/11 jarred everyone’s consciousness. And now Randall was part of a team that tracked radioactive waste, ensuring that it ended up at the appropriate facility, either to be safely disposed of or reutilized. Which in reality made him a glorified