"What kind of screwed-up homecoming is this?" she whispered to herself, hoping her sour humor would allow her to inject more bravery into a terrifying situation.
Sarah picked herself up and then quickly felt her arm. She realized she hadn't hurt it any more than it had been; it was sore, but at least she could move it. She hefted the heavy weapon and made for the stairwell beside her, knowing she had to get to either level seven or at the very least the computer center where she knew Pete Golding and his techs were always working.
For the first time in over a month, Sarah wasn't thinking about the loss of Jack Collins.
Senator Garrison Lee was in his element. He sat with his longtime live-in companion in the cafeteria and went through each file that he himself had okayed in the years leading up to deprioritizing the items in the vaults on levels seventy-three and seventy-four.
"That's it, Garrison, we've covered all six hundred and seventy-two vaults. What do you think?"
"I think I want some of that coffee, old girl, if you would be so kind."
Alice shook her head and stood, tired herself. She decided she would have tea just to offset the mood that the caffeine would put the senator in.
Garrison looked at one file he had placed on the left side of the table, separating it from the others.
"Why that one?" Alice asked. She placed the cup of coffee on the table and sipped her own tea just as the lights in the cafeteria failed. The bright emergency lights came on, and Lee continued.
"Because, woman," Lee said, also looking around him at the emergency lighting, "it's the only vault that would make any sense. I'm surprised you didn't pull this file immediately after learning the facts of the attacks at sea. I think you're slowing down some."
Alice raised her eyebrow but said nothing as she sat down.
"Okay, Mr. Lee, how about explaining?" Alice asked while she looked around in the now-shadowy cafeteria. Then the lights came back on at full strength.
"Point number one: This report from the USS Columbiastates that the vessel that launched the attacks on Venezuela was like nothing ever encountered before. I quote, 'a submarine of extraordinary capabilities,' end quote. We've had a partial answer to why the complex was attacked from the very beginning. Someone was afraid of what we had stored in vault number 298907. A vault that was classified as cold and relegated to the storage level, all testing and analysis completed." He slid the single folder over to Alice, who looked at the name and number on its outer jacket.
"Leviathan,"she said to herself.
"That's right, Leviathan. Recovered in nineteen sixty-seven by the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution off the coast of Newfoundland, with parts of her discovered as far south as Maine."
Alice slid the file back to Garrison.
"The advanced submarine was estimated at more than one hundred years old, conservatively speaking, and"--Alice quoted from memory--"'with a kerosene-and-diesel-mix electric power system that rivaled the diesel submarines of today.' At the time you believed this vessel was what Jules Verne based his fictional Nautilusupon. Is my memory serving correctly?" she asked.
"Like a computer, young lady," Garrison said as he slid a liver-spotted hand over hers. "Not bad at all for a woman approaching the century mark."
"That's you, my dear, not I." She smiled and patted his hand. "Now, if I do remember correctly, carbon dating and other tests placed her destruction in a ten-year time frame between eighteen sixty and eighteen seventy-one. What does that have to do with today?"
"I don't believe in coincidence, never have. Advanced submarine in the past, advanced submarine in the present, explosion that takes out what material we do have on level seventy-three, one-plus-one-plus-one equals someone wanted us not to reference that boat in our vault. Now we know why, and we know what attacked us--all we need is the who? Is it something in that vault that will give away this vessel's technology, or on the other hand, maybe her metallurgy? Her home port or waters, or was something left aboard the relic that will assist in identifying the man behind such an advanced craft?"
"We better report to Niles and--"
That was as far as Alice got before several men broke through the double doors of the cafeteria and started rounding up the few people inside. In the next moment, a submachine gun was pointing right in Garrison Lee's face.
Alice placed her hand on Garrison's, letting him know that he was not to try anything foolish.
"Young man, please aim that weapon in another direction, unless of course you plan to murder us. If not, you little bastard, point it somewhere else."
The masked gunman smiled inside his black nylon hood at the woman who continued to confront him with her eyes, even after he moved the weapon and aimed it at the floor. He then pulled a list out of his armored vest and looked at the typed names and their pictures. He looked from Alice to Garrison.
"Mrs. Hamilton, your reputation precedes you, ma'am. Would you and the senator please follow me to the main conference room?"
As the man spoke, the power grid flickered as it had before, and then the overhead lights went completely out.
"Don't worry, ma'am, we have just sealed this level from the others, and that means we have successfully taken control of the most secure facility in the American government."
Alice looked at Garrison Lee in the emergency lighting shining from the corners of the cafeteria. His one eye was glaring at the man standing over them. Once more, she took his hand and started to stand.
"Very well, young man, it seems you have the advantage," Alice said as she assisted Lee to his feet.
"At least for the moment, you little prick," Garrison Lee said directly into the man's masked face, and as he did, he used his hand to slide the file they had been examining onto his vacated chair.
The man's laugh sounded muffled, but it traveled through the entire cafeteria as he reached down and gathered up the folders on the table to take with him.
"I'd hate to run into you two in a dark alley," he said as he gestured for them to head for the cafeteria doors.
Sarah cautiously opened the stairwell door one level up. She looked down the dark and curving hallway using the night scope, being careful not to look at the dim emergency lighting at the far end.
She held the door ajar by the barrel of the weapon, allowing her to see the comp center directly across from her. There were figures moving inside, but she couldn't make out who they were. Then she smiled as she saw the form of Pete Golding throw a chair against the bulletproof glass as hard as he could, but all it did was bounce back and almost strike him. In the green haze of the scope, she saw Pete as he screamed in frustration. The sound didn't penetrate the glass, but the gesture was almost comical. Pete just wasn't the herculean type.
With the weapon opening the door farther, Sarah stepped into the hallway, allowing the door to close gently behind her. She slowly made her way to the center and tapped on the glass doors with the gun barrel until Pete looked up. He twisted his head because he couldn't see who was out there in the dark. Sarah waved him over, and the relief in Pete's face was apparent. She mouthed something he couldn't understand. Then, with her sore arm she reached into her jumpsuit pocket, brought out a Sharpie felt pen, and hastily scrawled, Attacked.