Chapter 28

December Nineteenth

Arthur brought a small Toyota to a stop more than a hundred yards from a row of storage garages. The place was completely indistinguishable from the numerous others that dotted the countryside between the profusion of small towns in central Virginia. Nothing about it gave any hint of its unusual contents. The military guarded its valuables behind high fences protected by many men with guns. Bankers locked theirs away in strong steel vaults. The CIA, however, hid theirs in plain sight.

Kelly had identified the Director of the National Clandestine Service branch of the CIA as the individual most likely to know the names and locations of key agents in Europe, Moscow, the Middle East and India. When Arthur had gone for the man earlier in the evening, he had gotten the names he wanted, and so much more. Now his fledglings in those far off places were busily recruiting those who had experience in the arts of espionage and infiltration, and he ... well, he was here.

He knew he should be concerned that the sudden suicide of the Director, and the probable loss of at least half of the agency's principle field agents in the target areas, would raise suspicions, but he wasn't. With his plans so near fruition, he couldn't help but feel a giddy sense of invulnerability. The simple fact of the matter was that mortals reacted far too slowly to stop him now. For them, time had already run out. Besides, the thing that he truly feared, that Lei would move to stop him, had not occurred. While he often wondered why, he saw her inaction as a good omen, perhaps even a blessing. Despite the one law, she had, after all, approved what he had done in Pittsburgh.

As he closed the distance to the storage facility, his face rippled with change, taking on a rough approximation of the features of the Vice President of the previous administration. The cameras that monitored the area fed directly to Langley, preventing him from tampering with them directly. His hope was that the crude disguise would generate enough confusion to last the few days that were remaining.

Approaching the last garage in the row, Arthur held his hand over the lock. It immediately became obvious that he was in the right place: the lock was far more complex and used a much thicker bolt than had ever been installed in any normal commercial storage operation. Once the lock clicked open, Arthur raised the half-inch thick titanium alloy garage door upwards.

The interior was filled with tarp covered furniture, pieces of old machinery and a thick layer of dust. Extending his senses, Arthur found the man who even now was watching Arthur on a camera monitor. Oblivious to the nature of the threat, the guard was picking up a phone to report the breach of security while reaching for a button that would no doubt fill the room that Arthur was in with something quite unpleasant. Arthur drove into the guard's mind, causing him to drop the phone and enter the code that would open the next door that stood in Arthur's path.

With a rumble of hidden machinery, a large rectangle in the center of the floor dropped down and moved to the side, revealing a set of steps. Hidden fans kicked on, stirring up the dust so that it would resettle in an even, undisturbed layer after the entry. Arthur descended and passed through another locked door to the security guard's desk. The man stood, and for the benefit of the cameras, went through the motions of checking Arthur's identification and allowing him admittance. He continued standing, his eyes vacant, as Arthur, ignoring the retinal scanners and other security devices, released the locks to the large airtight door on the other side of the room with a thought.