EchoEnergy
Leon hated that the guy thought he could just add on another hit like some two-for-one deal.
“But you’re already in Tallahassee. It’s not like you need to make another trip,” the guy said in a smug voice that grated on Leon’s nerves.
He’d worked for mob bosses less presumptuous than this asshole. How’d he think this worked—
Oh, by the way, while you’re still in town you mind killing one more person?
It was bad enough that Leon had given in to the demand of no guns or knives. Christ! He should have charged extra for that alone. Didn’t these assholes realize it took some creativity to figure out how to off someone and make it look like an accident? He wasn’t a goddamn magician.
If all that wasn’t bad enough, here he was again at this stinking guts factory. The place gave him the creeps. It wasn’t natural what they were doing. He didn’t care what anyone said. ’Course, someone else must think it’s not natural or Leon wouldn’t be back.
Whatever was going on wasn’t up to Leon to figure out. He didn’t get paid to form opinions or make judgment calls. The reason why this two-bit chicken factory seemed to be cleaning house of their white-lab-coat staff wasn’t any of his business. That they chose to use his services rather than hand out pink slips with their last paychecks was actually good for Leon’s business. It’d be silly to question it. He just didn’t like the asshole’s attitude.
This fucking weather put him on edge. Christ! These clouds looked like something alive, gunmetal gray, ghostly globs crawling overhead with bellies ready to burst open. Angry demons with enough electricity to light up the sky for miles. This kind of stuff wasn’t a good sign, not that he was superstitious. There was just too much about this he didn’t like.
For starters, he didn’t like that the target was a woman. Not that he hadn’t taken out women before, but all the times before—
okay, it was only twice
—but both times the women were slutty con artists who should’ve known better than to steal or cheat on their mob-boss boyfriends. This woman wasn’t like that. As far as Leon could tell, she wasn’t like any of his previous hits. It wasn’t that big a deal. The price was right. Hell, like the asshole said, he was already here. Even had the credentials and security key card.
He had watched her checking out the Crown Victoria, realizing even before she popped the trunk that it wasn’t her car. That’s when it occurred to him that it might be the goddamn other guy’s car. It was probably the reason she needed to disappear, too. A shame, really. She was a good-looking broad.
EchoEnergy
Leon hated that the guy thought he could just add on another hit like some two-for-one deal.
“But you’re already in Tallahassee. It’s not like you need to make another trip,” the guy said in a smug voice that grated on Leon’s nerves.
He’d worked for mob bosses less presumptuous than this asshole. How’d he think this worked—
Oh, by the way, while you’re still in town you mind killing one more person?
It was bad enough that Leon had given in to the demand of no guns or knives. Christ! He should have charged extra for that alone. Didn’t these assholes realize it took some creativity to figure out how to off someone and make it look like an accident? He wasn’t a goddamn magician.
If all that wasn’t bad enough, here he was again at this stinking guts factory. The place gave him the creeps. It wasn’t natural what they were doing. He didn’t care what anyone said. ’Course, someone else must think it’s not natural or Leon wouldn’t be back.
Whatever was going on wasn’t up to Leon to figure out. He didn’t get paid to form opinions or make judgment calls. The reason why this two-bit chicken factory seemed to be cleaning house of their white-lab-coat staff wasn’t any of his business. That they chose to use his services rather than hand out pink slips with their last paychecks was actually good for Leon’s business. It’d be silly to question it. He just didn’t like the asshole’s attitude.
This fucking weather put him on edge. Christ! These clouds looked like something alive, gunmetal gray, ghostly globs crawling overhead with bellies ready to burst open. Angry demons with enough electricity to light up the sky for miles. This kind of stuff wasn’t a good sign, not that he was superstitious. There was just too much about this he didn’t like.
For starters, he didn’t like that the target was a woman. Not that he hadn’t taken out women before, but all the times before—
okay, it was only twice
—but both times the women were slutty con artists who should’ve known better than to steal or cheat on their mob-boss boyfriends. This woman wasn’t like that. As far as Leon could tell, she wasn’t like any of his previous hits. It wasn’t that big a deal. The price was right. Hell, like the asshole said, he was already here. Even had the credentials and security key card.
He had watched her checking out the Crown Victoria, realizing even before she popped the trunk that it wasn’t her car. That’s when it occurred to him that it might be the goddamn other guy’s car. It was probably the reason she needed to disappear, too. A shame, really. She was a good-looking broad.
EchoEnergy
Back in the lab Sabrina pounded the computer keys. The lightning flashed now in sets of three and four, not finishing before the thunder came in slaps and crashes. She probably shouldn’t be on the computer. She tapped in her password for the third time and for the third time she was denied access. The computer continued to ask for it, insisting on a special code. Yesterday morning her password alone had worked fine. All she wanted to do was check the processing line for Reactor #5.
Lansik was the only one with the code to change the process, but any one of the scientists, including her, had access to view it. Which she had done just yesterday, logging on to check and post operational stats. A glimpse of the real-time program would show the flow, the temperatures and output and help her figure out the problem. Now all of a sudden the computer required a code just to view the system.
She sat back and ran her fingers through her wet hair, wanting to yank instead. She was soaking wet, creating a puddle around her. It wasn’t like this was a nuclear facility where a breach of security could mean a Chernobyl-like meltdown. However, if what she suspected was true, and a mistake had been made to use the reactor while bypassing the flushing tank, there could be toxins being released into the river.
Sabrina’s clothes stuck to her and she shivered in the air-conditioned lab. She couldn’t imagine what it meant if, in fact, Grade 2 garbage was being processed. No way could that happen without EchoLab’s knowledge. They’d be drawing samples, testing combinations, adjusting coke temperatures. It simply wasn’t possible and certainly not possible without using the flushing tank. Grade 2 garbage usually included unrecyclable mixtures of over twenty-five kinds of plastic, nylon, rubber, metals, wood and fiberglass, and that was just for starters. Unlike slaughterhouse waste, processing this mix of garbage could give off residue such as PCBs and dioxin, which would be very toxic. The hydrogen in water worked to stabilize and break it down. Bypassing water would not only be a mistake,
it would be deadly.
But as O’Hearn had told her, they weren’t processing Grade 2 garbage.
O’Hearn. Sabrina had told him about the reactor yesterday afternoon. Could he have changed the access as a safety precaution until Lansik returned? And why would he change it? Unless there was a problem, a mistake, and O’Hearn didn’t want anyone else to notice it.
Sabrina grabbed the wad of scratchy paper towels she had gotten from the employee restroom and wiped her face and arms. This was silly. She prided herself on being logical and levelheaded. There were always explanations. Sometimes you had to dig for them.
Another burst of lightning sent the electricity in the lab flickering. The fluorescents blinked. The computer screen went black. The hum of the machines sputtered. A crash of thunder left the entire lab dark and silent.
Sabrina sat still, willing herself to calm down, to breathe. It was a typical Florida thunderstorm. It would soon pass over. She watched shadows of tree branches dance on the lab’s walls. The rain continued to pound the windows. Then from somewhere down the hallway, outside the lab’s door, she heard footsteps.
The middle of the morning and it looked like twilight in the lab. The wall of windows that overlooked the back park became picture frames of spidery lightning and animated branches. But most unnerving was the silence. Without the rattle and hum and vibration of machines, the footsteps echoed on the tiled hallway floor, and Sabrina sat perfectly still, paralyzed in front of the dead computer screen.
She saw the tunnel of light lick up and down from the window of the door to the bottom, slipping under. A flashlight, she told herself, and began to breathe again. She could almost fake normal by the time the door slid open and a security guard poked his shaved head into the lab. He ended up being the one who jumped, startled at her presence, but he turned it into a cough and a high step into the lab like he meant to do that.
“Everything okay, ma’am?”
He pointed the flashlight in her eyes. Whatever his intent, Sabrina found it more annoying than intimidating.
“Just trying to get some work done.”
“Generators should kick on in a little bit,” he said, this time revealing a slow southern drawl. He moved the flashlight off her face to inspect the lab, swiping the light over shelves and into corners, even though unlike the hallway it was light enough in here to see without the spotlight.
That’s when Sabrina saw a gun in his other hand, up and ready as if he expected someone to jump out at him from the shadowed corners. She tried to remember if EchoEnergy’s security guards were armed. Other than having them check her credentials at the guard hut, she hadn’t ever met up with one. She watched the way he handled it. In the flashes of lightning he looked as though he was moving in slow motion, a blue-haloed character in a video game.
“Are you the only one in here?” he asked without glancing back at her, focused now on Dr. Lansik’s half-opened door.
Suddenly there was something unsettling in his intensity. The electricity had been knocked out by the storm. That was it. Why would it warrant a SWAT-like search?
“There are usually several of us here on Saturday mornings,” she answered, not wanting to admit she was alone with this Robocop.
As he reached Dr. Lansik’s office the lights blinked twice before staying on. The lab rustled and choked, coming back to life. It was enough to break his spell. Like a sleepwalker he stood up straight, his head jerking around as if seeing the surroundings for the first time. Settling on Sabrina’s eyes, he holstered his weapon and clicked off his flashlight.
“Back to normal,” he said, and Sabrina couldn’t help wondering if he meant the lab or himself.
EchoEnergy
Back in the lab Sabrina pounded the computer keys. The lightning flashed now in sets of three and four, not finishing before the thunder came in slaps and crashes. She probably shouldn’t be on the computer. She tapped in her password for the third time and for the third time she was denied access. The computer continued to ask for it, insisting on a special code. Yesterday morning her password alone had worked fine. All she wanted to do was check the processing line for Reactor #5.
Lansik was the only one with the code to change the process, but any one of the scientists, including her, had access to view it. Which she had done just yesterday, logging on to check and post operational stats. A glimpse of the real-time program would show the flow, the temperatures and output and help her figure out the problem. Now all of a sudden the computer required a code just to view the system.
She sat back and ran her fingers through her wet hair, wanting to yank instead. She was soaking wet, creating a puddle around her. It wasn’t like this was a nuclear facility where a breach of security could mean a Chernobyl-like meltdown. However, if what she suspected was true, and a mistake had been made to use the reactor while bypassing the flushing tank, there could be toxins being released into the river.
Sabrina’s clothes stuck to her and she shivered in the air-conditioned lab. She couldn’t imagine what it meant if, in fact, Grade 2 garbage was being processed. No way could that happen without EchoLab’s knowledge. They’d be drawing samples, testing combinations, adjusting coke temperatures. It simply wasn’t possible and certainly not possible without using the flushing tank. Grade 2 garbage usually included unrecyclable mixtures of over twenty-five kinds of plastic, nylon, rubber, metals, wood and fiberglass, and that was just for starters. Unlike slaughterhouse waste, processing this mix of garbage could give off residue such as PCBs and dioxin, which would be very toxic. The hydrogen in water worked to stabilize and break it down. Bypassing water would not only be a mistake,
it would be deadly.
But as O’Hearn had told her, they weren’t processing Grade 2 garbage.
O’Hearn. Sabrina had told him about the reactor yesterday afternoon. Could he have changed the access as a safety precaution until Lansik returned? And why would he change it? Unless there was a problem, a mistake, and O’Hearn didn’t want anyone else to notice it.
Sabrina grabbed the wad of scratchy paper towels she had gotten from the employee restroom and wiped her face and arms. This was silly. She prided herself on being logical and levelheaded. There were always explanations. Sometimes you had to dig for them.
Another burst of lightning sent the electricity in the lab flickering. The fluorescents blinked. The computer screen went black. The hum of the machines sputtered. A crash of thunder left the entire lab dark and silent.
Sabrina sat still, willing herself to calm down, to breathe. It was a typical Florida thunderstorm. It would soon pass over. She watched shadows of tree branches dance on the lab’s walls. The rain continued to pound the windows. Then from somewhere down the hallway, outside the lab’s door, she heard footsteps.
The middle of the morning and it looked like twilight in the lab. The wall of windows that overlooked the back park became picture frames of spidery lightning and animated branches. But most unnerving was the silence. Without the rattle and hum and vibration of machines, the footsteps echoed on the tiled hallway floor, and Sabrina sat perfectly still, paralyzed in front of the dead computer screen.
She saw the tunnel of light lick up and down from the window of the door to the bottom, slipping under. A flashlight, she told herself, and began to breathe again. She could almost fake normal by the time the door slid open and a security guard poked his shaved head into the lab. He ended up being the one who jumped, startled at her presence, but he turned it into a cough and a high step into the lab like he meant to do that.
“Everything okay, ma’am?”
He pointed the flashlight in her eyes. Whatever his intent, Sabrina found it more annoying than intimidating.
“Just trying to get some work done.”
“Generators should kick on in a little bit,” he said, this time revealing a slow southern drawl. He moved the flashlight off her face to inspect the lab, swiping the light over shelves and into corners, even though unlike the hallway it was light enough in here to see without the spotlight.
That’s when Sabrina saw a gun in his other hand, up and ready as if he expected someone to jump out at him from the shadowed corners. She tried to remember if EchoEnergy’s security guards were armed. Other than having them check her credentials at the guard hut, she hadn’t ever met up with one. She watched the way he handled it. In the flashes of lightning he looked as though he was moving in slow motion, a blue-haloed character in a video game.
“Are you the only one in here?” he asked without glancing back at her, focused now on Dr. Lansik’s half-opened door.
Suddenly there was something unsettling in his intensity. The electricity had been knocked out by the storm. That was it. Why would it warrant a SWAT-like search?
“There are usually several of us here on Saturday mornings,” she answered, not wanting to admit she was alone with this Robocop.
As he reached Dr. Lansik’s office the lights blinked twice before staying on. The lab rustled and choked, coming back to life. It was enough to break his spell. Like a sleepwalker he stood up straight, his head jerking around as if seeing the surroundings for the first time. Settling on Sabrina’s eyes, he holstered his weapon and clicked off his flashlight.
“Back to normal,” he said, and Sabrina couldn’t help wondering if he meant the lab or himself.