End of Days (Pike Logan #16)(88)

I looked around and said, “How? I don’t see a camera.”

He said, “I don’t know, but we’re looking at you right now.”

Which told me these guys had more than just overt systems. If he could see me, they’d invested in covert systems. Not a good sign.

I said, “Can you see guards inside? Is there anyone moving around?”

I was now worried that they’d just seeded the building with motion detectors and heat sensors. If that was the case, we were headed back down.

“Not in the basement where you’re going, but we’ve seen them moving about on the other levels.”

If they could move about, so could we. I said, “Anyone inside of our breach point?”

“Not that I can see.”

“Okay, Knuckles. Knuckles, we’re breaching.”

I heard, “Roger that.”

And I flicked my head to Jennifer. She spent about forty-five seconds on the lock, then swung it open. We entered one at a time, dropping like cats into the room. I whispered, “Find a stairwell. Need to get to the bottom.”





Chapter 57




We moved through an ostentatious office, entered a hallway, and found a stairwell leading down. We went down it like a pack of panthers, moving slowly, waiting for any sign that someone was ahead of us. We passed one floor, then saw a flashlight. We crouched down, and it went beyond us, not taking the stairs. We kept going and then reached the bottom floor, the stairwell spilling out and widening like it was trying to impress anyone who saw it.

I grabbed Jennifer’s shoulder, telling her to wait for a moment. She did, and when I thought it was safe, I whispered, “Find the secretary’s desk. Lia said the basement was behind that.”

She nodded and we began wandering about. We went one way, bumping into offices and rooms full of archives, then went the other. My earpiece came alive with Knuckles saying, “I’m watching you. You’re in the lobby. Keep going left.”

Other than vague illumination, I couldn’t see shit-all of what he was talking about, but I said, “Roger.”

We reached an ornate desk with a small hallway behind it and Knuckles said, “That’s it. You’re there.”

I flicked my head at Shoshana and she began walking down it, reaching a utilitarian door, something that looked like it was hiding a storage space. She opened it, and we saw a staircase leading down, black as sackcloth. I said, “Get inside and I’ll close the door. Don’t turn on the lights until I do so.”

Both of them nodded and entered the black hole of the stairwell. When they were in, I followed, gently closed the door, then turned on my headlamp, saying, “Light it up.”

They did the same and we raced down to the bottom, finding a closet-like space with the ceiling so close you wanted to duck.

There was a lone desk with a computer on top, the rest of the room full of cleaning supplies and other detritus. I looked at Shoshana and said, “Is this it?”

She glanced around the room, closed her eyes, then said, “Yes. This is it.”

I grinned and moved to the computer, saying on the net, “Blood, Blood, I have a computer. I need to crack it.”

He said, “Stand by.”

I said, “Start searching this room. See what you can find.”

They began looking and I flipped over the keyboard for the computer, seeing a yellow sticky note that read, “Jennys#”.

I couldn’t believe it. This asshole is using the same damn password as the guy in Zurich? What a dumb-ass.

I booted up the computer, got a password screen, and typed in what I’d found. And received a bad password alert. Confused, I did it again, with the same result. There was no way this was a coincidence. This was the same password we’d used in Zurich given to us by the Mossad, and this was the same asshole that had dictated its use there. I typed it in again, getting the same results.

I called Brett, saying, “Blood, Blood, I can’t get in. Can Creed?”

He said, “No. That computer is not on the net.”

“Can I put it on the net?”

“Well, yeah, if you can get into it and connect it to Wi-Fi.”

Great.

Jennifer came to me, saying, “There’s nothing here. Just cleaning supplies. I’m not sure this is the lair of the bad man.”

Shoshana came up and said, “It is. I promise it is.”

I said, “But there’s nothing here but this old computer. Are you sure?”

She turned her face to me, blinding my eyes, and I held my hands up, saying, “Turn off the damn headlamp.”

She did, then said, “Pike, this is it.”

I said, “Yeah, I think so, too, only because I found a password underneath this computer that’s exactly the same as the one that the Mossad gave us in Zurich. No way is that a coincidence, but it doesn’t work here.”

Jennifer said, “What is it?”

I showed it to her and said, “It’s the Jenny’s number thing. With the hashtag that worked in Zurich.”

She said, “Jenny’s number?”

“Yeah. Just like before. Jenny and a hashtag.”

She said, “Move over.”

And she typed 8675309, then hit the enter button. And the screen cleared.