The darkness lasted only a few seconds, but in those few seconds Maya heard enough to understand that the blackout was not ordinary. There was a sharp metallic click somewhere beyond the conference room, followed by the scrape of a chair and the muffled sound of someone moving quickly through the corridor. Michael Davis stopped breathing for a moment beside her. Elena reached beneath the table and caught Maya's wrist.
"Stay down."
Maya lowered herself instinctively. The room smelled of warm electronics and stale coffee. Somewhere outside, an alarm began to chirp, then stopped. Emergency lights should have come on immediately, but they didn't. That frightened Maya more than the darkness itself. Federal buildings had backup systems. A total failure in one section was possible. A failure that left the entire floor black at exactly the moment Robert Anderson's escape had been announced was something else.
"Elena," Michael whispered, "the drive."
Maya heard the faint scrape of plastic against the tabletop. Michael was holding it. She could barely see the outline of his shoulder.
"Put it inside your jacket," Elena said. "Now."
A heavy door slammed somewhere down the hall.
Maya's training returned before fear could interfere. She listened instead of guessing. Three footsteps. Pause. Two more. Someone was moving toward them, not away. She remembered the cockpit during the emergency landing, the way every sound had become information. Hydraulic pumps. Warning tones. Wind against the fuselage. The voice of the captain. Panic became manageable when broken into details.
"There are two people," she whispered.
Michael turned toward her. "How do you know?"
"Footsteps. Different weight."
Elena shifted closer to the wall. "Can you get us out?"
Maya felt along the edge of the conference table until her fingers found the metal support. "Maybe."
She remembered the floor plan Elena had shown her earlier. The conference room had two doors. The main entrance opened toward the federal operations corridor. The second was a service door leading toward a stairwell. Maya moved slowly, keeping low. Her hand found the second door, but the handle did not move.
"Locked," she whispered.
Elena cursed under her breath.
The footsteps stopped outside the main door.
Nobody spoke.
Then someone tried the handle.
Maya's pulse hammered against her throat. Michael leaned toward her, his voice almost inaudible. "They know we're here."
The handle turned once, slowly.
Elena raised her weapon.
A voice came through the door.
"Agent Brooks?"
Elena did not answer.
The voice came again. "It's security. We need everyone to remain in the room."
Maya looked at Elena. Elena's expression changed.
"Security doesn't tell armed federal agents to remain in a dark room," Elena whispered.
The door opened two inches.
Elena moved first. She kicked the door hard enough to knock the person outside backward. Maya heard a grunt, followed by the clatter of something striking the floor. Michael grabbed Maya's arm and pulled her toward the service door.
"Move."
The three of them pushed against the locked door together. The old latch finally gave way with a violent crack. They stumbled into the stairwell.
Emergency lighting flickered weakly several floors below.
Maya heard shouting behind them.
"Down," Elena said.
They descended quickly.
Michael was breathing hard. He was older than Maya remembered, and fear had hollowed his face, but his movements were still controlled. On the second landing he stopped.
"Wait."
Maya looked back.
A thin red light was visible through the stairwell door above them.
"They're coming."
Elena raised her weapon again. "How many?"
"At least two."
Maya noticed something else.
"They're not following us."
Elena frowned.
Michael understood first. "They're going to the server room."
Maya's stomach tightened.
"The records."
Elena immediately turned upward. "Exactly."
They climbed back to the corridor, moving faster now. The emergency lights had finally come alive, bathing the hallway in dim red illumination. A fire door stood open at the far end. Beyond it, a figure disappeared around a corner.
Maya recognized the walk.
"That was the man from the hangar."
Elena grabbed her arm. "You're sure?"
"Yes."
They ran.
The corridor ended at a secured records room. The electronic lock was blinking red. Someone had already forced it. Papers covered the floor. A computer monitor had been smashed. Two file cabinets stood open.
Michael stared at the damage.
"They're looking for something."
Elena scanned the room. "The original maintenance files."
Maya stepped inside.
One cabinet drawer had been pulled out completely. Another had been left open. Folders were scattered everywhere, but one section remained untouched.
Daniel's aircraft.
Maya moved toward it.
A file was missing.
"Elena."
Elena came over.
Maya pointed.
"The week before Daniel's flight."
Elena's face hardened.
Michael closed his eyes.
"They got here first."
"No," Maya said.
Both of them looked at her.
She pointed to the dust on the cabinet shelf. "This drawer was opened recently. But the file beside it wasn't. Whoever came here knew exactly what they wanted."
Elena's radio crackled.
A voice said, "Agent Brooks, report."
Elena lifted it.
"Brooks here."
Static answered.
Then another voice whispered through the interference.
"Stop looking."
The radio went dead.
Maya stared at Elena.
Michael slowly removed the flash drive from inside his jacket.
"Then we stop letting them decide what we find."
He held the drive out.
"There is a copy."
Maya looked at it.
"Where?"
Michael gave her a tired, almost apologetic smile.
"Not here."
Click here to continue reading: PART 10: The Copy
The Quiet Mother in Seat 8A Heard a Question That No Ordinary Passenger Was Supposed to Answer
Part 9 of 20
