Chapter 11
The evening finally came where the assault was to begin on the Tasty Taste Ice Cream Factory. Number 1 had stayed up the night before planning, working, and letting his mind wander to all the possibilities that would be behind those rock covered gates. What would they find? Whom would they find? Would there be the answers that they were looking for?
There was no way they would be able to use the same ice cream truck diversion as before because there was an armed guard at the main gates. Sector V, from the week before, had noticed that there was another armed guard that patrolled the perimeter constantly in a golf cart. They only had about twenty minutes after he left their area before he got all the way back around. The stressful thing about this guard was his impromptu random route changes which sometimes brought him back around the area that Sector V was hiding in.
There was a privacy fence from a neighborhood that ran parallel with the rock covered wall, Number 5 had spotted it as being the best bet of being able to infiltrate without getting caught.
It was about forty five minutes until the ice cream men started showing up, they would need to move if they were going to have enough time to search offices before the meeting began. Sector V was hiding in the backyard behind the privacy fence. Posing as plumbers the week before, they had gained access to the backyard and had scoped out the perfect hiding place between the privacy fence and a row of thin trees that acted like cover from the homeowners. Likewise, they had cut and hinged fence boards, while pretending to repair sewer pipes, to act as a hidden door for a quick entrance and exit, surely undetectable by the ice cream men if it came down to a chase.
Number 1's heart was pounding with excitement; his nerves as solid as steel beams.
"Time?" he whispered gruffly.
"Forty five minutes out," whispered Number 5.
"Number 2, what's the status of the guard?" Number 1 whispered looking up.
Number 2 had a constructed a crude periscope out of PVC plumbing pipe and glass bottles and had it looking over the top of the fence.
"He's having trouble driving that golf cart in a straight line. It looks like he's playing on his cell phone."
Number 1 smiled, it was just the way he liked his enemies…distracted.
"Team, let's move" he whispered.
Number 2 stashed the periscope under the branches of the thin tree. He could leave it there, for if the homeowners every discovered it they would throw it away, assuming it to be trash left by the "plumbers".
Number 4 pushed the hinged boards out slowly and peered around the corner.
No movement.
He crept out, careful not to let the board slam into Number 3 who was close behind. Number 1 had seen Number 4 fight in the week that they had used to train for this mission. He was near lethal and fast. He had a look in his eyes that was terrifying in its own right; it was the look of sheer force. It was brute strength that beat in the heart of Number 4…and made him the perfect point man.
They continued to hurriedly sneak through the grass, across the black top and up against the rock wall. Number 1 felt his S.P.L.A.N.K.E.R., strapped to his belt, dig into his waist as he leaned up against the wall. Each of the operatives was assigned a S.P.L.A.N.K.E.R., except for Number 3, who was too careless with it and broke a window, and Number 4, who was given a different weapon.
Number 2 had given Number 4 a prototype for trial. It had proven to be successful in the tests so it was time to take it out on a mission. Number 2 had referred to it as the G.U.M.Z.O.O.K.A. because it was basically a desktop, gumball dispenser that had a handgun grip attached to the base and a plastic funnel with a long, tubular end attached where the gumball was supposed to drop out. In the tests, a pull of the trigger would send the gumballs inside of the glass globe, which were actually painted ball bearings, out at a high rate of speed like a machine gun. Number 2 mentioned that it would work great as a suppressing weapon and wanted to see it used in that manner. He also decided giving it to the most aggressive member of the team was the best way to accomplish that.
"Quick," Number 5 whispered, "We need to get into the bulkhead behind this giant ice cream cone and get into the door."
They began to inch their way down the wall to the nearest large ice cream cone built into the wall. Number 362 had been correct that hidden behind the decoration was a bulkhead in the wall, containing a maintenance access.
"Number 2, get that door open," Number 1whispered.
A confident smile spread over Number 2's chubby, freckled, cheeks as he adjusted his belt and knelt down to look at the door lock.
"Oh yeah," he said, "Piece of cake!"
He pulled a set of tools from his pocket and started to pick the lock. Number 2 was goofy when it came to his social skills, but his mechanic skills were humbling. His social skills certainly added a unique personality to the team. Number 1 had visited him when he was working on the S.C.A.M.P.E.R. or whenever he was building a prototype in their dorm room. It was as if the pieces of machinery would speak to Number 2 whenever he worked. He would think out loud as he worked on the weapons or machinery and with the steadiness of a skilled surgeon he would build and construct; everything he touched seemed to turned to gold.
"Bingo!" Number 2 whispered loudly in excitement and the door bumped open.
"Watch it!" Number 5 whispered loudly in response to his sudden outcry.
"Oh sorry," Number 2 said with that familiar goofy smile on his face, "I picked the wrong time to get excited."
Number 4 gave him a look that could kill as Number 3 giggled quietly.
"Lock it down Number 2!" Number 5 said curtly.
Number 2's eyes got as wide as dinner plates at her choice of words and his goofy grin got even wider than before. Number 5 rolled her eyes and started shaking her head as it dawned on her what she had said.
Number 5 pushed the door open and looked around. There was no alarm sounding or dogs barking. There were no guards of any kind in the perimeter. The lighting inside of the wall was bright but spotty enough to hide in, if no one was paying attention. The team filed through and lined up against the wall as Number 2 wedged a business card between the lock and the catch, to snug it up and keep it from locking. The factory loomed before them, decorated in faded pastel colors and crowned with sporadically placed, oversized, plastic ice cream cones.
"Ooh!" Number 3 cooed with excitement, clutching her cheeks with her sleeve covered hands, "Are we here to get a quick treat?"
Number 1 motioned for her to be quiet as he led the team hastily across the yard and through the landscaping. Their footsteps were soft and unheard as they skirted quickly through the yard. The air was still as they approached upon the building. They needed to head towards the back of the factory. The front gate was almost certainly too difficult and too obvious to try and break into. Soon the villains would be converging onto the premises and it would not be good to stuck outside of the main door without being able to get in. If the back door was not promising, a window would have to do.
Sector V crowded around the back door. The back of the factory held several loading bays for semi-trucks as well as fenced in areas for large generators and other equipment. At the top of the raised area above the loading bays was the back door, made of thick steel and sporting a magnetic card reader to the side of the door frame.
"A card reader with numeric keypad attached," Number 1 said bluntly, "No problem team, we've prepared for this. Number 3, you're up."
"Okie Dokie Artichoke-y!" Number 3 whispered in her chipper high pitched tone. She pulled the green sleeves of her sweater up and off of her hands so that she could reach into her sweater pocket. Inside was her smartphone and attached wire with a magnetic card on the end.
She tapped in the screen with her other hand, sleeve sliding in her way. After a few seconds, she swiped the magnetic card through the reader.
The glowing red LED's burned without change.
Chills ran simultaneously down every one's back as they realized that it didn't work. There wasn't time for problems like this.
"Try it again Number 3", Number 1 said briskly.
Number 3 tried the card reader again, slower this time.
The LED's mockingly continued to stay red.
"Any ideas, Number 2?" Number 1 said in the same tone as before.
Number 2 look panicked, "Me? I'm a mechanic; I don't know anything about security systems!"
Number 3 was turning red and looked as though she might cry, "Oh no, sorry guys, I know we don't have much time." She started to try it again.
"Hold on a second," Number 5 said, "We're not using our heads. If we keep trying that thing we are almost certain to set off an alarm. We need to try another way."
"Good idea," Number 1 said without skipping a beat, "Suggestions?"
"I say we blow the door down and go in shooting!" Number 4 said loudly in his thick Australian accent.
"Duly noted Number 4," Number 1 responded, "Anyone else?"
"No wait," Number 5 interrupted, "I mean we're not thinking this through. We have a card reader and a keypad. Now, you would have to have a card to use the card reader in the first place."
"Like a name badge!" Number 2 piped up, snapping his fingers.
"But the ice cream men don't have name badges or ID's of any kind." Number 1 pointed out, "They are common street thugs and criminals with records so they won't want their ID known or displayed. Besides, there weren't any indications of card reader usage at Mr. Frosty".
"Right," Number 5 said, her eyes sparkling in the dark, "So, we can assume that the cards are for administrators and desk clerks. The key pad would be used by everyone else including dock workers, deliveries and the average floor attendant."
"With that range of people, it would have to be short and easy to remember." Number 3 piped up.
Number 4 hadn't contributed anything and he was beginning to feel left out, "Well," he said, "Try 1234".
"Don't try that," Number 1 said exasperated, "Also, there weren't any passcodes listed on any of the intel from Mr. Frosty."
Number 4 began to ramble off some numbers and acted like he was going to start trying them all, much to Number 1's chagrin.
"Wait…" Number 5 whispered, "Try…."
She thought it over and looked at the keypad which was set up like a telephone, with numbers and letters.
She smiled.
"Try FROSTY".
There was silence.
"Surely it can't be that simple!" Number 1 muttered.
Number 5 reached over and confidently punched the passcode in and the LED's sighed green with a solid "click" of the lock disengaging.
She turned slowly with a smirk on her face, "Surely it can be, baby! Don't doubt Number 5!"
"Let's move team!" Number 1 said shaking his head.
He pushed the door open and led them into the darkness. They switched on flashlights and started hastily walking through the dismal and stainless steel hallways trying to find the offices. There had to administration offices that would contain the information that they were after, it would just be a matter of finding them before the meeting started.
"Time?" Number 1 said hastily.
"Twenty five minutes," said Number 5.
They continued down the hall ways looking into the vast and haunting factory floors and massive machinery. If there were to be any office areas, they would be at the front of the building.
Soon, they got to an area where the tile of the hallway turned into carpet. Number 1 shined his light up and down the walls to muted paint on the walls and cheesy office décor.
"Ok team," He whispered in the dark, "I need Number 3 and Number 4 to check every door up and down these corridors. We saw some card readers on doors in a few areas so I'm assuming that there will be some areas we can't access, but there will be some doors left carelessly unlocked. I need you to access those and pilfer any information you can to take back to Number 362 at HQ Intel."
He turned to Number 5 and Number 2, "You guys are coming with me and we're going to find that meeting area."
They split up and began their missions. There wasn't much time left before the guard at the front would let the cars into the gate and the evil would begin to sneak in under the cover of night. There were well decorated hallways with artwork, side tables and fake potted plants. Number 1 mused at how interesting that there was an office area that would appeal to the everyday businessman just yards away from the grime and filth of a factory.
The trio stuck their heads in every room seeing lounge areas and parlors but nothing large enough to house a meeting. The ghostly glow of a soda machine lit one room up that was certainly too small. Number 1 was getting nervous, they didn't have much time left at all and they needed to find a position that would allow them to get the most out of the meeting or this entire trip would have been for nothing.
Suddenly, at the end of the hall, Number 1's flashlight beam bounced off of double French doors and shone through the glass to the back of what appeared to be a large meeting area.
Number 1 nudged Number 5 and motioned towards the doors; now they needed to find a hiding place. Number 5 was examining the floor plan, trying to figure out which offices might run alongside the meeting hall. Number 2 pointed out a janitor's closet around the corner. The floor plan would fit the back of that closet butted up against the wall of the meeting area.
"Number 2," Number 1 said quickly, looking at his watch, "See if you can get that door open and hurry, they'll be here in any minute."
Number 2 walked over and turned the door handle, opening the door with ease.
"Well," he said with that silly smile fighting through his straight laced facial expression, "It's a tough job but someone's got to…."
"Will you shut up and get inside!" Number 5 said rushing towards the closet. The sound of cars pulling into the parking lot was unmistakable. There would be precious little time before the men in those cars would enter the building and head straight for them.
Number's 1 and 5 pushed Number 2 to the back and quietly shut the door, turning the lights off and locking the door behind them. Number 2 pulled out his cell phone and they used the dim light on it to ensure that they wouldn't hit anything. There was a sink on the back wall with some sturdy looking shelves next to it. If these office rooms were constructed like the typical administration offices inside of large factories and warehouses, the walls would be thin and the ceilings almost nonexistent. In the dead stillness of the factory, everything that went on in that room would be heard.
Number 1 stepped up on the sink and climbed up on the shelf while Number 5 followed. Number 2 decided not to try it for fear that the shelf might not be able to take the extra weight. They pushed one of the ceiling tiles askew just enough to be able to peer through the small crack if you were up close to it while not looking obvious from anyone in the room.
It was perfect.