“Let’s run one more test on the camera,” I said.
Barbie nodded and looked out the window. I opened the software and immediately saw parking lot. “It’s working perfectly.”
“Good,” she said, smoothing down her lab coat. “I’m ready.”
I handed her the ID Basia had stolen and she took it. “Let’s set the timers, on my count,” I said.
Timing would be critical.
We pulled out our phones and set our timers. That done, Barbie slipped her phone into the pocket of her brand-new lab coat and put her hand on the car door.
“Let’s do this,” she said.
“Remember the plan,” I said calmly. “Stay within the allotted time, but if things go south, get out.”
Barbie nodded. “I understand.” When she opened the door to get out, the November night air rushed in sharp, biting.
“Brrrr,” Basia said, shivering.
Barbie closed the door and walked toward the entrance with the comfortable confidence of an employee.
“Comms check,” I murmured as she moved away from the car.
“Loud and clear,” Barbie said.
“I’m good,” responded Angel.
“Let’s go, then.” I stayed laser focused on my laptop and the view from Barbie’s camera. The riskiest step would be getting her in. That was the biggest unknown. The woman from McDonald’s might have noticed her badge was gone. She might have called it in as missing, and security might have deactivated it hours ago. There was no way to know until Barbie tried. I didn’t see any evidence in the system logs of a recent change of access, but I might have missed where it was stored.
It was a risk we couldn’t avoid. The backup plan was to see if I could remotely open the fence and doors. It was certainly within my capability, but I couldn’t test it until Barbie was in place. So, I couldn’t say for sure it would work.
There were more unknowns than I liked, which meant I’d have to make quick decisions on the fly. Luckily, that was one of my better strengths, especially when dealing with a computer system.
“I’m in,” Angel said softly in my earbud. “I’m riding the system.”
“Good,” I replied.
Basia must have heard something in my voice, because she reached over the seat and squeezed my shoulder. “You’ve got this, Lexi. Bring Barbie, Ginger, and Tootsie back to safety.”
“I will,” I said.
Barbie crossed the lot at a steady pace, head up, posture loose but purposeful. Anyone watching—anyone human, anyway—would hopefully see nothing more than a lab employee heading inside.
Angel’s voice filtered through my earbuds. “Barbie, you’re good. Cameras are looping. You’re not on any feed. Neither are you guys in the parking lot.”
That was encouraging. Barbie approached the outer gate, and I saw what she saw. The fence seemed taller and more imposing close up. Barbed wire crowned the top and an electronic reader waited at chest height.
“Take the ID card and tap it against the identity pad on the door,” I instructed her calmly.
This was the first gamble. If the stolen card had been deactivated, this door wouldn’t open and it might even trigger an alarm. We were ready for that possibility, but we couldn’t be 100 percent sure it wasn’t separated from the security system. Each minute that Barbie stood outside exposed meant she was in danger of being discovered. My heart pounded as she calmly pulled the access card free from her pocket and waved it at the reader.
Nothing.
For a split second, panic flared. Then the reader blinked green and the lock clicked open. I let myself breathe. “Gate access granted,” I whispered. “You’re in, Barbie.”
“All systems clean,” Angel reported. “No alerts. Yet.”
Barbie slipped through the gate and eased it shut behind her, every movement deliberate. Watching through the camera, I saw the building, most of the windows dark except for a few.
