Barbie strode quickly to the building entrance, where there was another reader on the door. Barbie didn’t hesitate; she tapped the card. The lock disengaged with a soft mechanical sound and opened.
She quickly stepped inside and pulled the door closed. We both listened. There were no footsteps. No voices. No alarms blaring.
“I’m inside the lobby,” Barbie whispered.
Angel exhaled on the other end of the line. “Copy that. All systems remain clear. Go forward.”
“Good luck,” Gwen breathed.
Barbie turned and walked into the dark lobby. Somewhere inside this building, Ginger and Tootsie were waiting.
There was no turning back. We’d just crossed the line between watching and doing. The mission was fully underway.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Lexi
Barbie moved away from the lobby, a little too fast in my opinion.
“Resist the urge to hurry,” I murmured. “Hurry gets noticed. Purpose doesn’t.”
“Okay, I have to trust that you computer security experts are experienced in doing this sort of thing,” she said with a little sarcasm, although her voice was shaky. “No evidence of any live nighttime security.”
“That’s excellent news,” I said, searching the view along with her.
The corridor lights were dimmed to an after-hours setting, strips of white along the floor and ceiling that made everything feel clinical and colder. Barbie’s footsteps sounded too loud in my ears, even though they probably didn’t sound as loud on the polished concrete.
“Status?” Gray asked quietly since she couldn’t see my laptop.
“No sign of anyone yet.” I watched Barbie walk down a long hallway. I glanced at the blueprint I had tabbed on my screen. “Barbie, take a left at the next corridor intersection.”
“Copy,” Barbie whispered.
Angel’s voice came through my earbuds, calm and precise. “I don’t see any other motion alerts. You’re alone on this floor. For now.”
I guided Barbie toward the biocontainment area. She went deeper into the building, past corridors filled with rows of offices and a couple of restrooms. She rounded a corner and nearly ran straight into someone.
Gasping, they both stopped short.
I had a quick glimpse of a guy who was probably my age—late twenties—thin, with wavy black hair and glasses, wearing a lab badge and clutching a tablet like it was a shield. Then everything went dark as I assume Barbie flipped the cuff of her hat over the camera.
“Crap,” I whispered.
Everyone in the car collectively held our breath as we listened to what was about to go down.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the guy said. “I didn’t think anyone else was here this late.”
“Same,” Barbie replied, her voice coming out as little more than a squeak. “You scared me. I’ve only been here for a couple of months, and…ah, this is my first week on night rotation.”
Quick thinking, Barbie.
“Oh. Good,” the guy said. “I mean, not good, but… yeah. I’m new to the night shift, too. I’m a toxicologist.”
“Cool,” she replied. “I’m…Dr. Jones.”
We collectively winced, and I hoped she’d put her ID card in her pocket and not clipped to her coat so he couldn’t cross check her.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Dr. Jones,” the guy said. “I’m Devon. Devon McGuire. What do you work on?” he asked, seemingly genuinely curious.
