Only the hum of the refrigerating unit greeted him.
A more detailed survey of the room revealed there were some changes since the previous evening. Several hard plastic travel cases now sat on the worktables. He walked over to see what they contained, but they were all empty. Perhaps the contents had been moved to the large refrigerator, he thought.
Quinn stepped over to the unit and was surprised to find the simple safety pin had been replaced by a heavy-duty padlock. He considered picking it, but decided against it. He already had a lot to do, and he couldn’t spare the time.
Quinn turned and walked to the door that led into the second basement room. Pausing, he listened.
Silence. He took a deep breath, then opened the door.
This room didn’t look the same as the night before, either. The worktables were now covered with tools and boxes and equipment. Quinn crossed the room, noting everything, but making no guesses as to the purpose of it all. He paused by one of the metal cabinets near the door and opened it. The cabinet was full of medical supplies: bandages, tape, scissors, medicine. In a second, larger cabinet hung several heavy-duty biohazard suits. They were white, and made from some sort of nonporous material. On the floor of the cabinet were several identical boxes. Quinn picked one up and opened it. Inside was a full-face mask wrapped in a plastic bag. They looked as if they’d fit snuggly into the facial opening on the biohazard suits.
Quinn opened a third cabinet. No biohazard suits in this one. Instead there were air tanks mounted in backpack-like harnesses. Quinn checked the gauge on each. While most were empty, two of the tanks were nearly full.
He removed his backpack and set it on a worktable. From inside, he extracted one of the six remaining cameras. There were several different frequencies on which the cameras could broadcast. The choice of frequency was made via a tiny dial located at the back of the camera. He turned it, choosing a different frequency from the one he’d used before. It would allow him to see what was going on, without tipping off Borko and his team. The only limitation was the distance from which he could monitor the cameras. Without another booster, he would have to stay within a mile to see anything. Less than that if he wanted to make sure the picture was clear.
Quinn mounted cameras in both rooms of the basement. When he was done, he picked up his backpack and headed toward the staircase that led up into the base of the sphere.
Just before the door, he stopped himself. After a moment’s hesitation, he returned to the cabinets. He put down his bag, opened up the larger cabinet, and donned one of the biohazard suits. He then picked out a face mask and grabbed one of the full tanks from the second cabinet.
The outfit would serve two purposes. The first would be to protect him from anything deadly that might be floating around. The second to act as a disguise in case he was spotted.
Quinn removed the four remaining cameras from his backpack and transferred them to the plastic bag the mask had been in. He was about to place his gun in with them when he realized that it would be useless. While the bio-suit’s gloves were flexible, they were just thick enough so that none of his fingers would be able to slip over the trigger. Reluctantly, he stuffed the gun back into his backpack, and stowed the bag in the cabinet.
Quinn clung to the scaffolding just below the platform in the center of the sphere, the same spot he’d hung from the night before while Borko’s men searched for him on the platform above. He attached one of the remaining cameras to the pipes, aiming it downward so he would be able to observe anyone going into or out of the air lock on the floor of the sphere.
As he was checking to be sure the camera was securely in place, he heard voices above him. It sounded like two men had just exited the containment room and were now on the platform heading to the outside air lock. Unfortunately, he wasn’t close enough to make out what they were saying. He contented himself with waiting silently until they were gone.
Once all was clear, Quinn worked his way across the scaffolding to the edge of the platform, then pulled himself up and onto it. His first stop was the exit leading to the air lock. He paused, listening at the door to be certain no one was inside. More silence.
Quinn pulled out another camera and placed it above the door. He adjusted it so that it pointed across the platform toward the bio-containment room. As he had hoped, the black casing of the camera blended in well with the black covering of the sphere. Someone would have to really be looking for it to notice it. Satisfied, he then adhered the tiny strip of adhesive with the embedded microphone just above the door entrance.
He walked quietly back across the platform, stopping in front of the entrance to the containment room. Stretching as high as he could, he was just able to put a camera on top of the room, aiming back at the air-lock entrance. Now he had all the doors covered.
It was time to turn his attention to the interior of the containment room. He studied the entrance. If he’d guessed correctly, beyond it would be another double-door air-lock system.
Still, he hesitated. If they’d gone operational in the last twenty-four hours, there was no telling what might be stored on the other side of the air lock.
He gave himself a mental nudge, counted to three, then pulled the door open. There was no rush of air this time. The two men who had just passed through had equalized the pressure in the air lock to that of the interior of the sphere.
Quinn peered inside.
He was right, a small chamber, big enough for two people at most, then another door with a bright red light set into the jamb at eye level at the other end. Quinn entered, then pulled the door shut. Above him, a light came on, a single fixture recessed into the ceiling.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a barely audible click, the red light next to the interior door switched to green, while the light on the door he’d just passed through turned red.
Quinn took a deep breath, then opened the interior door. As he expected, air moved with him as he stepped over the threshold.
The center room was dark. He tried shutting the door, thinking it might also have an automated light system, but nothing came on. He opened the door again, allowing the light from the chamber to spill into the room until he located a switch just to the left of the door. He flipped it on, then let the door swing closed.
The room was cramped but deserted. Along the wall to his left were a series of chest-high mini-refrigerators. Stainless steel and brand-new. Quinn opened the nearest refrigerator. It was running, but empty.
Shutting the door, he continued his inspection of the room. Along the wall opposite the refrigerators was a long stainless-steel table. Everything looked newly assembled, like a showroom. All that was needed were whatever supplies and instruments were necessary to make the room operational.
In the center was another table. On it were two large transparent cases, made of either plastic or glass, Quinn wasn’t sure which. Inset on the front face of each box were two holes that allowed access to a set of rubberized gloves attached to the inside of the box. The gloves would let someone standing in front of the box work on items inside without actually touching them. Quinn had seen a setup like this before. It had been on the Discovery Channel, a documentary about the Centers for Disease Control. They were safety cabinets, designed specifically for the manipulation of dangerous microorganisms. Older models, Quinn seemed to remember. But still highly effective.
“Shit,” he said.
Back in the basement, Quinn removed the bio-suit and stored it in its cabinet. He retrieved his backpack, pulled out his gun, and tucked it in his waistband. He then donned the pack and exited the basement using the same window he’d entered through.