Peter slowly opened the door and entered a small windowless waiting room in the three-story building. Beyond the elevator door next to the stairwell, two closed doors stood on opposite sides of the waiting area. The storage vault was through the left door. As he passed the elevator, he confirmed no one was on the way up.
Hoping his access card still worked, Peter slid it across the door’s sensor pad. He exhaled a big sigh at an unlocking sound. As he entered the small, empty hallway, he noticed two doors in the corridor, neither with any markings. This was only his second time on the floor, but he was pretty sure the first one was the entrance to the storage vault.
His high-level clearance allowed him access to most of the facility, including the vault. His card unlocked the door. He calmly entered and saw a clerk sitting at a desk in front of a caged-in storage area; he’d guessed correctly. The clerk looked up from a wooden desk that had only a phone and a clipboard on it. Peter plastered a big grin on his face as he quickly scanned the clerk’s ID card hanging around his neck.
“Hello, Sean, how ya doing, buddy?”
The clerk tilted his head. “Hello, can I help you?”
Peter hoped the young man wasn’t aware security was searching for him. “I’m Peter Novak, the Manager for Astronaut Safety and Mission Assurance.” He extended his hand and put his belief into the white lie. “We met the last time I was here.”
Narrowing his eyes, Sean hesitantly grabbed Peter’s hand. “Sorry, I don’t remember.”
Shaking the man’s hand, Peter took a chance. “We talked about the Houston Astros and their dismal season.”
Sean’s shoulders relaxed as he nodded. “Oh, yeah. Boy, they are sucking, aren’t they? I say it’s because of their pitching rotation.”
Peter relaxed into his ruse. “Exactly, they better figure that out next season if they want to make the playoffs.”
Sean nodded. “So what can I do for you?”
“I need one of the oxygen packs.”
Sean picked up his clipboard and studied it. “I don’t see anything on here giving the okay for that.”
Only Chris and Walter had the authority to discharge equipment. “It’s kind of an emergency. We might have a problem with the spacewalk coming up and we need the unit for a simulation.”
Sean started to pick up the phone. “I need to get Chris Riddick’s approval first.”
Staying calm, Peter figured there was a 50-50 chance Chris was at his desk. “He’s not there; he’s in the control room observing the mission. You can call him there, but there’s a minor crisis going on and it’s pretty hectic down there.”
After studying Peter for a second, Sean set the phone back down. “No problem, follow me.”
Peter smiled, having overcome the hurdle. The clerk punched in a few numbers on the gate’s keypad. As he opened it, he pointed to a cabinet. “The oxygen packs are over there.”
“Got it, thanks.” Peter walked over and swung open the cabinet, quickly pulling out a unit with an umbilical cord strapped to its side. He studied it for a second to verify it was okay. Once satisfied, he grabbed the pack by its handle. “I also need the adapter for our spacesuits, do you know where that is?”
“Yeah.”
As the clerk walked toward a locker drawer, the phone on his desk rang. He stopped as if he was going to go answer it. Concerned the call could be security, Peter motioned in the direction Sean was headed. “I’m kind of in a hurry.”
Sean nodded as he hustled to the drawer, unlocking it before turning to leave. “Take what you need.”
Peter called out as the man rushed back to his desk. “I just need one.”
Peter promptly located the correct adapter. As the clerk answered the call, Peter swiftly passed by while raising both the adapter and oxygen pack to show this was all he was taking. Sean signaled he understood. As Peter exited he overheard, “Yeah, Peter Novak is here.”
With his location known, Peter had to hightail it out of there. He shoved the adapter in his pocket and raced back to the waiting room, carrying the oxygen pack safely by his side. He noticed the elevator was on its way up before he entered the staircase. The sudden sound of a 2-way radio echoed from below. “Peter Novak is on the second floor of Building 3.”
Footsteps rushed up the stairs in an insistent cadence. Shit. His only choice was the third floor. He vaulted up the stairs two at a time as quietly as he could. He halted at the door. The footsteps were now mixed in with men’s voices, which he couldn’t decipher.
He leaped into the third floor waiting room, which was empty and similar to the one below, except there was only a single door. Peter had no idea what was on this level. He flashed his key card across the door pad, but nothing happened. He tried it few more times, still nothing. Damn it, they must have deauthorized it. He studied the lock for a moment to see if he could bypass it, but without the proper tools, he was out of luck. He turned to see the elevator had stopped on the second floor. He was stuck. His only choice was the roof.
Reentering the stairwell, Peter was startled by a security guard on the lower landing. They locked eyes for a moment.
“Mr. Novak?”
Without acknowledging, Peter sprinted up the final flight of stairs, crashing through the rooftop exit. He swiftly scanned the area. His options looked bleak. As he darted across the roof he heard the exit door swing open behind him.
“Stop, Mr. Novak.”
Without looking back, Peter reached the building’s edge. He spotted two trash bins thirty feet below. One was full of metal shavings, the other paperwork. He looked back to see two guards fast approaching. He had no choice, he had to jump. He quickly positioned himself over the bin full of paper. He took one last look back at the guards who were now running.
“Don’t jump!”
With the oxygen pack by his side, he centered himself perfectly over the bin. He wished himself luck as he leaped, falling in a seated position. Please, no surprises in that bin. The landing was soft, similar to when he used to jump off his bunk bed into beanbag chairs. He struggled to climb through the paperwork and cardboard boxes. He took a swift scan of the oxygen pack, which looked fine. He looked up to see shocked looks on the guards’ faces. It was obvious they weren’t going to jump. As he climbed out, he noticed a big, blue ink spot spreading on his shirt. Damn!
Peter gave a short wave to the guards as he hopped to the asphalt and sprinted to his car, happy to be carrying Blake’s future lifeline.
24
LEARJET
The sweltering heat was draining Peter as he patiently stood on the hot tarmac at Hobby Airport. The portable oxygen unit was safely by his side along with his backpack on his shoulder. While waiting for the Learjet’s door to open, he looked out toward an old hangar where he used to wash his dad’s plane as a young boy. He smiled as he replayed fond memories of his father purposely misdirecting the hose on hot days to get him wet, which always led to fun water fights. A sudden hydraulic noise grabbed his attention. He turned to see the jet’s door split open like a crocodile gradually opening its mouth, the bottom part with steps falling just short of the ground inches from his feet. A man in a pilot’s snappy white uniform stuck his head out with enthusiasm on his face. “Hello, Mr. Novak.”
Peter grinned as he climbed the few steps of the newer $10 million plane, turning his head to get a glimpse down the sleek, aerodynamic body colored in a cool, red and white scheme. He was going to enjoy this. A welcome blast of cool air slammed him as he ducked his head and entered. He extended his hand. “Hello there.”