An Unauthorized Genetic Experiment: episode two.
Author: Chippewa Livingston
Archive: Please ask
Disclaimer: I claim no affiliation or ownership of characters or material related to Dark Angel.
10. spider's web
I dragged the unconscious security guard into the shadow of one of the alarm panels. 'Roxanne' tossed a roll of duct tape in my direction, and settled herself in front of a video monitor.
I pulled off the man's jacket, and popped open the clip on his necktie. The hat was still under his chair. A few inches of tape covered his mouth, and I put a couple of turns around hands and feet. I really didn't want any problems from him when he woke up.
"Asha's on the third floor," she said, looking over her shoulder at me and 'my' new jacket. The chevrons on the sleeve said I was supposed to be called sergeant. What a crummy outfit…
"Yeah, but where's the guy on patrol?" The jacket was too short. So much for the disguise. And I wasn't going to be able to clip the tie to my T-shirt anyway.
"Lamont? Gimme a minute. . . oh, crap. He's in front of the elevators now."
I knocked the half empty beer can off the desk, and dived behind it as Lamont came into view through the glass. I reached for the can, so he'd be able to see a hand, and the stripes on the sleeve.
"What? Sarge," he muttered, "Nothing, no one, just the lights going on and off. You okay?"
"Dropped my keys," I mumbled, and pulled my hand back. I noticed a floor plan of the building, with notes for the sensors and cameras. A plan. . . "The motion sensor at the far end of the East wing is acting flakey. Number one-twenty-seven. Go check it out, make sure it's plugged in and all."
"Can it wait? My feet are killing me."
"Just make sure it's working," I snapped. "If you want a nap, do it there."
"Hey, no need to bite my head off! I'm gone." The door closed behind him, although I could hear a muttered curse through the glass.
I got up off the floor, and peeled off the jacket. I dropped it over its owner. Maybe the light wouldn't wake him.
"Let me know when he gets to the end of the hall!"
"What then?"
"Electronic locks," I said, and scanned the control panels. This place had way too many switches. I found some that seemed to correspond to little blue numbers on the map. "I want him through the big double doors."
"These?" she asked. I glanced at the screen, as Lamont let a pair of doors swing closed behind him.
I turned one of the switches, and looked back at the screen. Lamont must have heard something, because he spun to push a shoulder against the now-locked door. His wide-eyed expression reminded me of something. . . unpleasant. I pushed the memory back down.
Lamont reached for the radio.
"Sarge, the locks are messed up, too." His voice came through one of the radios on the desk.
"Working on it," I mumbled back.
"Thanks." He clipped the radio back to his belt.
Roxie scanned randomly through the cameras. Hallway. Office. Vending machine, seen from above. Sinks and mirrors. Front door from inside. Office, from above. "Where's Asha?" she cooed. "Be a good girl. Come to mommy. . . There's Asha."
The camera pointed down on a narrow aisle of filing cabinets. Asha's blonde head blocked us from seeing what she was looking at, but she was systematically working her way through all of them. I also noticed that she was wearing latex gloves. (Note to self. Get some for next time.) No fingerprints for her. I wondered how often she did this sort of thing.
A tape-muffled groan came from the corner where I'd left "Sarge." Roxanne glanced in his direction, then switched cameras to check on Lamont again.
Lamont took a short run, and bounced off the door. "C'mon Sarge," said the radio. "This isn't funny!"
****
I was sitting on cold concrete, and staring at a blue-painted metal door. A door with no door knob. I could hear air being blown in through a grate high up in the wall, and somewhere water was running.
"I screwed up." A little bit of my voice echoed off the hard surface of the walls.
And now I'm trapped.
***
Roxanne tapped me on the shoulder.
"Target is on her way down," she whispered.
Seconds later we were concealed behind large fake plants in the lobby.
We watched the numbers over the elevator.
3
2
1 The doors didn't open.
B
Author: Chippewa Livingston
Archive: Please ask
Disclaimer: I claim no affiliation or ownership of characters or material related to Dark Angel.
10. spider's web
I dragged the unconscious security guard into the shadow of one of the alarm panels. 'Roxanne' tossed a roll of duct tape in my direction, and settled herself in front of a video monitor.
I pulled off the man's jacket, and popped open the clip on his necktie. The hat was still under his chair. A few inches of tape covered his mouth, and I put a couple of turns around hands and feet. I really didn't want any problems from him when he woke up.
"Asha's on the third floor," she said, looking over her shoulder at me and 'my' new jacket. The chevrons on the sleeve said I was supposed to be called sergeant. What a crummy outfit…
"Yeah, but where's the guy on patrol?" The jacket was too short. So much for the disguise. And I wasn't going to be able to clip the tie to my T-shirt anyway.
"Lamont? Gimme a minute. . . oh, crap. He's in front of the elevators now."
I knocked the half empty beer can off the desk, and dived behind it as Lamont came into view through the glass. I reached for the can, so he'd be able to see a hand, and the stripes on the sleeve.
"What? Sarge," he muttered, "Nothing, no one, just the lights going on and off. You okay?"
"Dropped my keys," I mumbled, and pulled my hand back. I noticed a floor plan of the building, with notes for the sensors and cameras. A plan. . . "The motion sensor at the far end of the East wing is acting flakey. Number one-twenty-seven. Go check it out, make sure it's plugged in and all."
"Can it wait? My feet are killing me."
"Just make sure it's working," I snapped. "If you want a nap, do it there."
"Hey, no need to bite my head off! I'm gone." The door closed behind him, although I could hear a muttered curse through the glass.
I got up off the floor, and peeled off the jacket. I dropped it over its owner. Maybe the light wouldn't wake him.
"Let me know when he gets to the end of the hall!"
"What then?"
"Electronic locks," I said, and scanned the control panels. This place had way too many switches. I found some that seemed to correspond to little blue numbers on the map. "I want him through the big double doors."
"These?" she asked. I glanced at the screen, as Lamont let a pair of doors swing closed behind him.
I turned one of the switches, and looked back at the screen. Lamont must have heard something, because he spun to push a shoulder against the now-locked door. His wide-eyed expression reminded me of something. . . unpleasant. I pushed the memory back down.
Lamont reached for the radio.
"Sarge, the locks are messed up, too." His voice came through one of the radios on the desk.
"Working on it," I mumbled back.
"Thanks." He clipped the radio back to his belt.
Roxie scanned randomly through the cameras. Hallway. Office. Vending machine, seen from above. Sinks and mirrors. Front door from inside. Office, from above. "Where's Asha?" she cooed. "Be a good girl. Come to mommy. . . There's Asha."
The camera pointed down on a narrow aisle of filing cabinets. Asha's blonde head blocked us from seeing what she was looking at, but she was systematically working her way through all of them. I also noticed that she was wearing latex gloves. (Note to self. Get some for next time.) No fingerprints for her. I wondered how often she did this sort of thing.
A tape-muffled groan came from the corner where I'd left "Sarge." Roxanne glanced in his direction, then switched cameras to check on Lamont again.
Lamont took a short run, and bounced off the door. "C'mon Sarge," said the radio. "This isn't funny!"
****
I was sitting on cold concrete, and staring at a blue-painted metal door. A door with no door knob. I could hear air being blown in through a grate high up in the wall, and somewhere water was running.
"I screwed up." A little bit of my voice echoed off the hard surface of the walls.
And now I'm trapped.
***
Roxanne tapped me on the shoulder.
"Target is on her way down," she whispered.
Seconds later we were concealed behind large fake plants in the lobby.
We watched the numbers over the elevator.
3
2
1 The doors didn't open.
B