Camp Alien (44 page)

White returned now, but he wasn't alone. Christopher was with him.

Who grinned at my shocked expression. “You didn't think I was going to stay hiding in the trees all the time, did you?” He nodded to the others. “Not here to cramp your style, and love the outfits, by the way, but I figured I'd be more useful on this team. Devon has things under control and they know that if one of us doesn't come back to them within thirty minutes, they signal the ship that they can't see but is on the roof and then they come in after us.”

“We're dressed for a commando raid, thank you very much. But, to your point, let's not stand around talking. We've searched the entire complex and, other than four normal security guys that the team knocked out, there's no one and nothing.” Considered asking Christopher if he wanted a weapon or body armor, then figured he was in
the Armani Fatigues and probably felt that was all he needed.

Christopher's eyes narrowed. “Were all four at the main door or were they on patrol?”

“Guarding the door and entry hallway,” Daniel said, as the others nodded. “And they were here on duty, not hanging out.”

“Then there's something suspicious going on. If you only have four guards for a complex this size, they should be on different floors and areas. That they were here indicates they aren't guarding the complex so much as they're guarding the door.”

“I'm so proud.”

Received Patented Glare #1. Considered offering him a pair of goggles. “I was the Head of Imageering for over a decade before you ever met us, if you'd care to remember.”

“Oh, I remember. You're just thinking like a sneaky human, and I call that some serious educational growth.”

He rolled his eyes. “Thanks a lot. But, before we head off, I just wanted to tell you all what I already told the fallback team—I'm really thankful you're all okay.” Christopher hugged all of us, one at a time. A-Cs liked group hugs, but there were too many of us do to one smoothly, and our armor, goggles, and weapons made a group hug far too unwieldy and probably dangerous.

“Thanks,” I said as he hugged me. “Of course we're okay with no thanks to anyone else. And almost no one else seems to care.”

“I know. They care, Kitty, though I can see how it didn't look that way to any of you. But they were frightened. And I understand why you're all upset.”

“Probably not all of the reasons,” Joe said, “For example, Randy and I aren't all right. In that sense.”

“Technically we might be better,” Randy said. “Only not fully human.”

“What happened?” Christopher looked worried, then horrified, as I gave him the fast recap of the fun we'd been having. He hugged Joe and Randy again once he had the full story. “We'll figure out how to fix it.”

Joe shrugged. “Right now, I still feel like me but I can do things I couldn't before.”

Randy nodded. “Kitty's calling us her Six Million Dollar Men. I kinda like it.”

Christopher looked blank.

Heaved a sigh. “It's a popular culture reference. I'm so not surprised you don't get it. But the guys are dealing and we need to roll because you gave Devon a timeline.”

Christopher nodded and heaved his own sigh. “You're right, let's go see what's hiding in this facility.”

C
HRISTOPHER ACTUALLY
zipped out to tell Devon when to start timing us, meaning we waited about a minute before he was back and we were able to start off again, this time heading for the staircase the Field agents had found.

There was only one stairway going down, and it was at the far end of this main building. Per Daniel they'd found elevators in every building, but none of them went underground and they'd tried the keycards in them, just in case.

“I'm going to mention that there being only one way down is suspicious.”

“It is,” Christopher agreed. “I checked the area out before I joined up with the other team. The insane asylum looks exactly like I imagine Hell looks like.”

“I think it might be creepier.”

“No argument. In addition to how the security team was stationed, the fencing all around this place really indicates something shady going on, since we checked and it's not a listed prison or similar. It's not listed as anything. Like James said, there's no record of any building like this being here. The only things listed on this part of the property are all part of the insane asylum. And no, I'm not going to make any jokes.”

“Nice to see you've learned and matured. Fatherhood is good for you. But, let's be real—something this size didn't build itself.”

“Again, no argument, but there's no record of it, meaning it's definitely a black site of some kind. By the way, I told Amy and Serene where I was going, but didn't check in with
Jeff and the others. Mostly because I didn't want to be the messenger.”

“I have no interest in their messages.”

“I've never seen you this mad at Jeff, let alone Chuck, James, and Tim,” Christopher said.

“I've never had them literally approve the arming of warheads aimed at me.”

He nodded. “I don't think that's the real reason. But I understand.”

“Do you?”

“Actually, yeah. You just got written off as helpless by four men whose lives you've saved more than once.”

“Got it in one. I'm insulted for me and your dad, let alone for Mahin, Abigail, and Lizzie, that the assumption was that we were so incapacitated that they needed to instantly capitulate to terrorists.”

That was it, in a nutshell. If I stopped to really consider it, I was still angry because I felt written off as helpless and I expected better from the guys I loved the most. Not the most mature reaction on my part, though.

White nodded. “Yes, and I understand the frustration. I share it, as well. However, son, we do need to remember that anger is what Missus Martini uses to fight.”

Of course, White was correct about why my being immature right now might be the right plan. Not an issue—the warheads aiming for us were still a very recent memory. “Oh, trust me, not a problem. Explanations for why I'm upset don't make me less upset. They just confirm the anger, you know?”

“Yeah, I do.” Christopher looked around. “I'll be right back.” He zoomed off at Flash level and was back before we'd reached our destination. “I just checked everything out. You guys really think this is a think tank? It looks more like a school, especially since it has dormitories.”

“Maybe that was the cover story when it was being built.” I might be mad at him, but Chuckie had trained me really well in how to spot the conspiracies and the lies used to cover them up. “Build a school, then claim that there aren't enough students to justify staffing it, shuffle some papers around, and you've got an excellent facility to use for whatever nefarious thing you're planning.”

“If this is NSA run as we all suspect, and is hidden as
well as it seems to be from a paper trail standpoint, that indicates a high-level government official or officials are involved,” White pointed out.

“Despite Cliff's best efforts to kill everyone in Washington, I'll bet we still have plenty of options for who's behind it.”

“You know what this reminds me of?” Christopher asked. Rhetorically, since he answered his own question. “Gaultier Enterprises. Dad, doesn't it seem like it's laid out similarly to the building we visited with Amy?”

White nodded. “Yes, son, you're right. Only it also resembles a school.”

“Or a think tank,” Lucas said. Clearly he was going to stick to that idea regardless. Couldn't blame him—I tended to stick to my ideas, too.

“What I find most interesting is that it has a very limited number of windows that face the streets and it's decently lit inside,” Camilla said. “As in, no one's having trouble seeing because there are lights on. Why? There were all of four men in here, and they were all stationed by the front door.”

“No idea,” Randy said. “But I'm sure we're going to find out.”

We reached the area that led down. It was blocked by a thick glass wall and door. There was a keycard entry box on the concrete wall that the glass wall connected with.

Camilla snorted. “I think we can stop assuming school
or
think tank. No one blocks off an entrance like this and requires keycard entry for benign reasons.” She tapped the glass. “Bulletproof. And I knew that without the goggles to tell me. Whatever's going on downstairs, it's top secret.”

Looked at the glass more carefully. Yep, the goggles shared that it was bulletproof, they just did it in my peripheral vision, and I'd ignored it. Needed to not do that—if we had cool tech, we should use it. My brain nudged.

“You know . . .” Had to arrange my thoughts, because my brain was nudging rather urgently. I was missing something I needed to pay attention to and it was a Megalomaniac Girl something—a leap I needed to make that my brain felt was the correct jump to take.

“What?” Christopher asked. “I know that look. Well, what I can see of that look, I mean.”

“I'm leaving the cool goggles on, but yeah, I have a look
going, I'm sure. The Kitty-Bot was created by YatesCorp, but by their robotics division, meaning the tech side of either Titan Security or Gaultier Enterprises. Probably both, since they were all in bed together for so long. And you said this place reminds you of Gaultier Research, right?”

“Yes, so?” Christopher sounded like he was trying to be supportive even though he had no idea why I was talking. More personal growth. Go team.

“So, in any raid that Chuckie and Mom have ever done, they've never found the Kitty-Bot or any other Fem-Bot. To the point where we all forgot that there was a Kitty-Bot until yesterday.”

“Yes, and again, so?”

“So where would you build Fem-Bots? I mean that seriously. They have to be done in some kind of secrecy, and I'd imagine they need a decent facility of some kind—the Janelle Gardiner Fem-Bot was certainly clean and well made. And wouldn't female robots be something that would sound amazingly awesome to those politicians who are always wanting to stay a few jumps ahead of any other country in terms of espionage and warlike behavior?”

“That's kind of a leap, Kitty,” Christopher said. The Field agents all nodded. Well, none of them were all that wet behind the ears—they'd probably served under Christopher at some point, so it wasn't shocking that they were in agreement with him.

“Is it? The lab where the clones were being made at Gaultier was deep underground. The lab under the Embassy was deep underground. Every Centaurion Division base goes deep underground. Some because of convenience, but mostly because it's harder to spot what you're doing if you're doing it deep enough in the earth.”

“I don't see how you get a robotics factory here from that,” Christopher said.

“Because Stephanie's Lair is underground right here in Forest Haven and she was making androids there. Maybe there's a special power grid in this area that she tapped into, because she had full power in her Lab of Doom. Meaning she probably piggybacked from this place.”

“Wouldn't that be noticed?” White asked.

“Yeah, but not if your power needs are sky-high already and you're not actually paying a bill. The only way anyone
notices if they're using too much power is because the power company shares their monthly usage numbers on their bill. No bill, no usage information.”

“I'm sure something shady's going on here,” Christopher said. “But I think you need to keep an open mind, because I doubt that we've found the robot factory.”

“Oh, I will, but I think we should be prepared to find a robotics factory somewhere. Because those robots pack a punch and take a licking and keep on ticking. They aren't up to most androids, but they're tougher than any human and most A-Cs.”

“We'll remain ever-vigilant,” White said. “I, personally, am waiting for the next attack, since I have a clear memory of how our luck works out. And, armed to the teeth or not, assuming this facility is mostly empty or not, I don't expect the next part of this offensive to go as smoothly as this portion has.”

“That's why you're the best Field agent we have, Mister White.” Looked at the four Field agents who all looked a little hurt. “Don't mean to diss your skills, boys, but he really is the best.”

“Oh, I'm sure they're not any more insulted by the insinuation that they're not up to my dad's level than I am,” Christopher said, sarcasm knob heading for eleven. “I see what Jeff means about the hero worship.”

“Yeah, well it's going to be a bit before I can go back to worshipping my other heroes.”

“I'm sure you'll forgive them,” White said. “Ultimately.”

“They really feel awful about it,” Christopher said as Joe took the keycards from Marcus and tested to see which, if any, would open the door. “If that helps any.”

“It does, but as the hero I'm in no way upset with just said, let's let me stay angry until we've rescued everyone. I've had trouble keeping the rage going today, so stop being reasonable for a while.”

Christopher grinned. “As long as you're not mad at me, fine, they're all panicked idiots. Until we're home.”

“Deal.”

Third card was the winner. The lock clicked and Joe opened the glass door cautiously. Nothing happened. “Who's holding onto the card for this door?” he asked quietly. “I'd like us to keep them separate so that we don't
waste time trying a key that's already worked its lock.” He pointed to the other side of the wall, where another keycard lock sat. “I think we need to use it to get back out as well.”

“Give it to Adriana. She's bringing up the rear, meaning she'll be in the lead if we have to run like crazy for some reason.”

The first keycard handled, we went back into formation. White put Christopher behind him, despite Christopher's arguments against this. “I'm bigger than you, son, and I'm wearing body armor and you're not. Just accept that I don't want to see my only child hurt and roll with it.”

“Kitty's rubbing off on you, too, Dad.”

“I take that as a compliment.”

“Hence why I'm never mad at your dad, Christopher.”

The stairway was unremarkable. Concrete all the way around—per the goggles it was at least twenty feet thick on either side—and decently lit. We went down the equivalent of two stories, based on the number of steps and landings. And came to another door. This one wasn't glass but metal, only six inches thick per the goggles. However, it had the keycard entry pad as well.

Joe tried the three cards he still had. Third one was again the charm. This one we handed back to Camilla, since she was next to Adriana.

Through this door we entered a long hallway, also concrete as thick as the other area had been, also well lit. Refrained from making any
Get Smart
jokes, mostly because I doubted Camilla would appreciate it. Because of Jeff's old TV shows obsession, I'd probably seen every TV show ever made by now, and I was fully up on Maxwell Smart and his gang. However, had to figure we weren't going to find much to laugh about at the end of this corridor.

Took what seemed like forever but was probably only a couple of minutes for us to reach the end of the hallway, which was, naturally, another six-inch-thick metal door. The first keycard Joe tried was the winner. This one he gave to Randy.

Through this door and, lucky us, it was time to go down another couple of flights of well-lit and thick concrete stairs, which indicated to me that we were now at least three stories underground. And, at the bottom of these stairs we got to meet Door #4.

It was metal, too, the now-standard six inches, and Joe's last key worked. Nice to know that the security guys had been able to get down here if they'd wanted to.

“Everyone get ready,” Joe said softly. “And be prepared for attack.”

With that, he opened the door cautiously and stepped through.