| Subject: Chapter 16b |
Author:
Juli
|
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
Date Posted: Thursday, August 24, 12:31:10pm
In reply to:
Juli
's message, "Anti-Virus" on Wednesday, May 17, 05:25:56pm
“Talk to me, buddy,” Walter said, holding the cell phone to his ear, awkwardly avoiding his gas mask.
“The computer sim came up with two equal possibilities,” Birkoff said, his fingers flying over his keyboard.
Walter was breathing heavy as he ran up the stairs. Michael had left him in the dust.
“Give me… your best guess, amigo,” Walter panted.
Across town in his “lair” Birkoff swallowed. He realized how many lives were relying on his “best guess.”
He studied the monitor again closely, and then spoke into his headset to Walter. “The floor below has an access panel in the hall. If I were Wolfe, this would be easier than the floor above,” Birkoff said.
“Good,” Walter huffed, glad to have one less flight of stairs to climb. “I’m almost there.”
“From the fire stairs, you’ll go through the door and down the hall to the end. There is an access panel. I hope you have your screw gun with you,” Birkoff told him.
“Never leave… home without… it,” Walter gasped as he continued his upward climb.
“If you have to, rip the panel off,” Birkoff warned.
“What’s the time?” Walter said, as he opened the door to the floor below Section One.
“11:06. Are you there yet?” Birkoff asked.
Walter put on a burst of speed fueled by adrenaline as soon as he burst through the door. “I see the panel,” he said, running down the hall.
“Are you familiar enough with the device?” Birkoff asked tentatively.
“No sweat,” Walter said, reaching the panel. “Putting the phone down – stand by.”
Walter laid the phone down and pulled an small electric screw gun out of his pocket. The little device made short work of the 8 screws that held the panel in place. He pulled the panel down and thanked God that Birkoff’s instincts were right on. The device sat inside the panel, attached to a hole that had been hastily cut in the ventilation pipe that fed upstairs.
Walter pulled a pair of needle nose pliers from his jacket and carefully pulled a wire from the body of the canister. Holding his breath, he listened to a satisfying click as the timer reached zero and closed the circuit to release the gas, now unable to finish its deadly task.
He breathed a sigh of relief and slumped against the floor. Picking up his phone, he mumbled, “Got it. Good guess, Birkoff.”
On the other end of the line, Birkoff let go of the breath he had been holding as well.
“I’ll let Michael know,” he said, disconnecting from an exhausted Walter.
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
| |
Feedback: 
