Chapter 18
As they began to rappel down into the elevator shaft, Number 1 noticed that there was a breeze of air coming up to meet them. He found it refreshing compared to the arid atmosphere of the abandoned building and the stale elevator shaft. It also meant that there was indeed more activity taking place below, most likely connected to a large outside door like the one the trucks had disappeared into on the satellite feed.
"Three stories down!" Number 5, the one to rappel last, reported quietly in the dark, the head lamp that she had on her head was casting a thin and sickly beam down the hollow walls of the shaft. It would be enough to make out any obstacles without drawing too much attention should anyone be waiting at the bottom.
They continued rappelling down the elevator shaft until their feet connected with the top of the elevator car. They gladly came to a stop as Number 1 pulled a flash light from his pocket. He used the bright beam to search the top of the elevator car. The dust in the air illuminated the light's beam into a perfect cone; it swept wide as he searched for an exit. The beam fell on an access panel, but when Number 4 tried to open it, it held fast.
"What kind of gadget do you have for this one?" Number 4 asked.
Number 2 rummaged around in his pack and produced a prying tool, "I call it, the crowbar!"
"Crowbar," Number 4 asked, scratching his head and oblivious to the sarcasm, "What kind of acronym is that? Besides it looks like a cruddy old pry bar to me!"
Number 5 shook her head as Number 3 tried to stop from giggling.
Number 2 pried the access panel off and Number 1 dropped inside the elevator. It was clean inside, but obviously victim to non-use and time. Cobwebs and dust was collected everywhere, spiders lurked around on the floor and scurried from Number 1's flashlight.
"Pry bar, Number 2!" he whispered quietly.
Number 2 traded the pry bar for the flashlight and Number 1began to pry on the elevator hatch. It resisted for a few moments and then popped open with a suddenness that caused everyone to gasp at the thought that it might slam open.
Instead the rust on the hinges caught it halfway and there was a collective sigh of relief.
Number 1 nodded curtly and led the team down into the elevator shaft and out of the door. The elevator door opened up to a larger room that looked like a production floor that had fallen into disuse. The team lightly used their flashlights to look around the large warehouse floor that had pallets of material, work benches, an abandoned forklift, welding stations, and assembly lines that were all covered in debris, dust and cobwebs. There hadn't been anyone on this production floor in decades.
There were some large bay doors to the right of their position and there was noise coming from these doors that alerted them that there was activity on the other side.
There was a lot of activity by the sound of it.
Number 1 and Number 5 exchanged glances as they began to creep towards the bay doors. Number 2 looked around and noticed that one of the bay doors was open and that pallets of material had been stacked high and in front of the open door, blocking it off.
"Let's see if we can scale that pyramid of junk, Number 2," Number 1 said, "Number 5, you, 3 and 4 see if you can inch around those pallets and squeeze between them and the bulkheads and see if you can't fit through to the other side. It sounds like the bulk of the activity is happening on the next production floor."
Number 5 nodded and led the way as Number 1 and Number 2 began to climb slowly up the pallets, careful that their footing would not slip amidst the dust covered wood and tarps. When they got to the top, Number 2 retrieved the binoculars that he had from his pack. He peered through them as Number 1 tried to soak in every detail.
The production floor they were looking at was structured like the production floor that they were in, in every way except for the movement of life that scurried among the various workbenches, staging equipment, and pallets full of material. There were also forklifts that were moving around like ants, unloading the full sized trucks that had pulled in from the outside door and moving large pieces of equipment at a time. Their blinding orange safety lights were ricocheting off of the walls rapidly and their shrill back-up alarms cut through the air at varying intervals. The air was thick with low conversation and usual warehouse sounds of humming power tools, things being dropped, people shouting back and forth.
Number 1 squinted through his shades, trying to determine what was going on, "Can you tell what is happening?" he asked.
Number 2 was silent for a moment as he swept the place again with his binoculars, "It's definitely an assembly line of some sort. It looks like they are building something, but I'm not quite sure what it could be."
"Can you identify any of the parts that they are using?" Number 1 asked quietly.
"Yeah," Number 2 said, "That's what I'm doing right now."
Number 1 looked around at the people who were welding at some workbenches and others who seemed to be constructing large welded and riveted steel together. What was going on here? It certainly didn't appear to be any sort of "environmental clean-up" operation as they were led to believe from the reports.
Number 1 realized that Number 2 was inordinately silent.
"Uh," Number 2 said with a tremble in his voice, "Number 1, it looks like there is a production group in the back of the room that is holding some of the finished product. It looks large metallic cylinders and airfoils…"
His voice trailed.
"For what, Number 2," Number 1 asked, trying to see what he was talking about, "For an aircraft? Could they be for a space ship?"
"No," Number 2 said with a whimper, "It looks like they are the correct size for a rocket, but not one large enough for long term space travel; more like intercontinental."
Number 1's heart sank, "They're building ICBM's?"
Number 2 grimaced, "It certainly looks that way."
There was a loud noise from the production area as someone yelled, dropping something. Number 1 and Number 2 were on full alert
It sounded as if something was moving their way.
Number 1 pulled out his S.P.L.A.N.K.E.R. and slid down the pallets, inching towards the opening of the bay door.
A fast moving figure slid around the edge of the pallets and Number 1 would have blasted it if it hadn't been for the familiar rose colored ball cap atop its head.
"Geez, Number 1, watch it!" an angry Number 5 whispered, "Didn't you think we might be headed back this way?"
"I didn't know you had left!" Number 1 replied, "Where did you go?"
"We snuck along the back wall, I took a lot of pictures," She replied, "but we have to go. I know they didn't ID us, but they started getting suspicious.
There was more shouting from the production floor…and it was getting closer.
"See!" Number 5 whispered loudly, shoving Number 4 and 3 further into the abandoned bay area, "Get down!"
Number 2 laid down flat on top of the pallets and held his breath. Number 1 slid to the side and hid behind the large mountain of pallets while Number 4, Number 3 and Number 5 frantically tried to find hiding places.
There was plastic sheeting, torn a long time ago, draped from the edges of the open bay door, swinging in the still air like a wraith. Number 1 watched the plastic intensely from between the pallets; his nerves on edge that a person could come through at any minute.
There were large bursts of light that were dancing across the plastic; blurred by the frost of the plastic. Number 1 felt a bead of sweat roll down his face and drop off of his jaw; he remembered to breathe as he clinched his jaw muscles in anticipation of the inevitable.
The plastic was thrashed to one side as two husky and uniformed young adults jumped into the room; military rifles at the ready.
No one made a sound as their flashlight beams crept across the room, revealing everything they touched. Number 5 held her breath as the flashlight beam reached out and landed on the oil drums that she was hiding behind. The beams filtered through the small slits between the barrels and landed softly on her skin. Her heart pounded in her ears as the beam lingered only momentarily before slithering to another dark corner.
The men stepped cautiously in the room, scanning every corner. Each operative tensed every muscle in an attempt to remain motionless.
The older man of the two spoke in a foreign language that Number 1 identified quickly as Romanian, coaxing the other man to leave the room. Number 1 couldn't understand what they were saying but it sounded like they expected to find someone and didn't, so there was no reason to stay.
The younger man didn't look convinced,
The younger man inched towards the middle of the room. He was getting ever closer to being even with the pallets that Number 1 was hiding behind. If the man took too many more steps, Number 1 would be vulnerable. Number 1 coolly fingered the S.P.L.A.N.K.E.R. on his belt, ready to draw and fire if need be. His nerves were steeled and his breath slowed to normal as he contemplated the actions he might have to take to save his team. Would he be fast enough to take two soldiers with rifles?
The young man stopped as the older man kept talking, motioning with his hands and changing his tone to be more commanding. He was pointing out chew marks on the edge of the plastic.
Did they think they heard an animal? It would almost be too good to be true!
The younger man's muscles relaxed and he eased out of his military stance. He turned to face the older guy and listen to the man's complaints. The younger man nodded and took one last look around the room. The darkened elevator shaft to the side caught his attention for a moment longer than everything else.
The man squinted his eyes in the dark towards the elevator shaft as the older man tilted his head back and rolled his eyes, obviously irritated that the episode had gone on as long as it had. The look in the younger man's face indicated that there was never any action in the bottom of the missile site and it was wrinkled in a challenging look of want; as if he wanted someone to walk out of the elevator shaft.
The older man's tone and voice changed to be demanding and the younger man shook his head in reply. The young man turned slightly to leave and then raised his rifle up towards the elevator as an afterthought.
The air was shattered as a round exploded from the rifle barrel and cut through the dark towards the elevator; the muzzle flash lit up the room for only an instant. Number 1's ears were ringing and he was temporarily blinded as every nerve exploded in shock at the sudden crack of gunfire. He thought he heard another noise in the echoing gunshot but he couldn't be sure. He knew that every operative must be feeling the same way, but they held their quiet.
The older man was really yelling now and reached out to hit the young man in the back of the head. They continued to argue as they walked out of the abandoned bay and headed back towards the lively operation floor, they had to alert the workers that there was nothing to be alarmed about.
Number 1 felt his lungs burn as he exhaled for the first time in long, drawn out minutes. He slowly peeked out and saw Number 5 and Number 2 emerging precariously from their hiding places.
His heart skipped a beat as all eyes watched a shaking Number 3 emerge from the elevator. His heart sank as he realized that they had been hiding in the elevator the entire time. He had no idea that they were in there!
She was crying her eyes out.
"It's Wally…," she whispered through the hot tears, hyperventilating as she spoke. Before she could finish her sentence, she fainted in the arms of Number 5.
