Which was where me and my “magic” powers came in. Justice for those the law ignored. Got it. Didn’t like it.
“Does Acme have security cameras?” I asked, changing the subject. “Can they see what we’re doing right now?”
“Not in here. They have cameras in the corridors, but there won’t be anyone monitoring them today. They can check the footage later, though,” Paddy warned. “They’ll know we’ve been here.”
“Stink bomb then,” I said. “After the gas leak, your people will be as jumpy as Gary Cooper’s neighbors at high noon. One whiff of a stink bomb, and they’ll be out of there so fast, they’ll burn rubber.”
Schwartz made a snorting nose that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. Paddy glanced at me approvingly.
“Perceptive. Simple. It might even work.”
“Fair is fair,” I said with a shrug. “They gas us, we gas them.”
The truth was, I was the one who was jumpy. Being in the basement of this mausoleum with no telling how many mad scientists and their machinery—not to mention security goons with guns—had my skin crawling. I wanted out as fast as we could get there.
Or maybe it was knowing I didn’t like Sarah well enough to go to hell for her that made me edgy. Yeah, I didn’t want her frying innocent people, but how innocent were these people, after all? Did the government know Acme’s scientists were experimenting with a new element? Was the green cloud a new nerve gas?
One thing I know from my environmental scientist mother—corporations earn more money off weapons than health care. If Acme had a magical new element, they were intent on building bombs with it, not saving the world from disease.
So maybe I should be taking out the lab and not just my friends.
Man, I hate indecision! This is what courtrooms and legal processes are about. They might take awhile, but decisions were made. There was a proper guideline.
Had he been here, Andre would have worried about my unusual silence while the boys mixed their stink bomb, but Schwartz and Paddy were clueless. I studied the blueprints and kind of wished I could talk to Max. I even took out my mirror and pretended to remove an eyelash while wishing I could see just a flicker of his reflection. But he was gone, from hell and from my life—mostly.
Besides, he’d just scream, Justy, get out of there! Not very useful. I missed him.
At least Schwartz and Paddy didn’t order me to stay behind when they made their bomb run. To disguise ourselves from the cameras, we all donned gas masks so we’d give the appearance of having been outside, without the burden of wearing the heavy suits. And then we marched down the long corridor.
The door to Lab B was shut but not locked. The voices rising from behind it did not sound happy. No whistling while one worked at Acme.
Wearing my pretend-scientist attire and a face mask, I leaned against the beige concrete and watched as Paddy entered the lab as if he belonged there, which, I suppose, he did. He left the door open for our benefit.
The angry voices rose higher at his entrance. Paddy put on a good mime performance, gesturing to his mask and waving his hands, urging everyone to run. Nice that he was actually trying to warn the assholes—not that they cared. They cursed, grabbed his arm, and tried to force him out.
Schwartz and I glanced at each other and, in concert, rolled our little bombs across the tiles.
Everyone was too focused on poor Paddy to notice. He slumped. He shook his shaggy head. And when the rotten-egg stench exploded, he staggered out with the rest of them.
By that time, Schwartz and I had concealed ourselves in a cleaning closet. It’s hard to get intimate while wearing a gas mask, but I had my back practically pressed into his front, and my libido was not minding one bit. Maybe because I was trying hard not to laugh my head off at all those brilliant scientists blown away by a juvenile joke.
“What the devil is Bergdorff doing now?” one of the lab coats shouted as he coughed and raced ahead of the stench.
“We sent Bergdorff and Ferguson and their crew home!” another of the coats shouted back as they ran down the corridor. “Must be the freaking EPA morons.”
“Why would the EPA have hydrogen sulfide?” another asked, slowing down and sniffing the air.
“If that’s just sulfide and not Bergdorff stirring his brew, what are we running for?” someone smarter than the average suit asked—from the far end of the corridor. “Just find the damned leak.”
Uh-oh. I dived out of the closet and across the hall to Lab B before they all decided to turn around and brave the stink. Schwartz stayed hot on my heels.
Once inside the forbidden lab, we hastily worked our way through far more modern paraphernalia than that in Paddy’s pitiful closet. I watched for potentially explosive machinery, but the place was all computers, stainless steel, and glass. The back wall had no discernible door, just a suspiciously uncluttered lab table stretched across the width of it. We hunted for switches or hinges, me diving under the table and Schwartz leaning above it.
The argument in the corridor didn’t seem to be coming closer. Paddy probably had to stick with his comrades, so we couldn’t count on backup from him.
I’m a lawyer, not an engineer. I couldn’t figure out how the lousy door worked. Or if Paddy’s blueprints were all wrong or if he was just crazy. Frantically, I tried visualizing a door opening while muttering, “Open sesame,” and pounding the wall. Nothing happened, not even a pink iceberg. Not surprising. Door opening didn’t involve issues of justice, apparently.
“Stand back,” Schwartz whispered. “I’ve got it.”
I scuttled out from under the table and out of the way as Schwartz slid back a well-oiled door, with lab table attached. Devious. And obviously designed for secrecy. I’m in favor of an everything-in-the-open policy myself. Secrecy just isn’t healthy. It means someone is doing something they shouldn’t be.
Before Schwartz could order me to stay behind or lab coats could show up to ask what we were doing, I dashed through the opening, hitting the wall in search of a light switch. Found it in one. An ecologically sound fluorescent bulb whimpered on, giving off just enough light for me to see the stairwell.
At the bottom of the stairs, I cursed when faced with green concrete blocks and the same Lab A and Lab B layout as upstairs. Unimaginative bastards. Was it my imagination, or did I feel the rumble of machinery?
Not wanting to imagine being blown to hell while we were so close to it, I hastily took the A side. Schwartz turned left to the B side.
I opened every unmarked door in my path. No machinery. I wondered if I could visualize disintegrating bombs but figured inanimate objects were probably not on Saturn’s duty roster.
The room below Paddy’s was a supply closet down here. I debated dropping my dangling gas mask and donning a lab coat and surgical mask but figured I wouldn’t fool anyone without a more official badge than my visitor’s one.
As I approached the main lab, I heard more voices. Damn, we’d known it wouldn’t be easy. I was supposed to just locate Bill and Sarah and scram before anyone knew we were here. There was no way I could throw them over my shoulders and carry them out. Especially not with people guarding them.
My mind churned as I explored farther down the corridor, past the main lab. Nobody came out to ask me what I was doing. I figured I could always tell them I’d gotten turned around and lost. What could they do, call a senator’s guest a liar?
Well, yeah, if they recognized me. Last I’d heard, they’d labeled me Max’s bitch. Oh well.