Mitchell Parker Crime Thrillers Collection

Chapter 5

Special Agent Mitchell Parker had a clear plan – get the security tapes, get out of there, and get home in time for Inspector Morse on television at eight. Crouching on a hanging bridge spanning the middle floor of the university’s science block, Mitch silently cursed the architects who thought suspended walkways and wire railings would be ‘arty’ in the new science wing. It left nothing to hide behind and exposed him and his partner, Jack Jameson, to the lab entrances and thoroughfares.

Mitch flattened himself against the railing in the shadows on the bridge. At six-foot-two, with dark hair and an athletic build, he was a man who didn’t spend much time in the shadows. His sharp blue eyes swept the area, landing on J.J.

“J.J., nothing here. Try the next level up,” he whispered into his throat microphone.

The stocky J.J., five-years older and a stone heavier, nodded and crawled out of sight.

Mitch looked between the wire railings to the hallway entrance below. He saw one security guard at the front desk. His eyes traveled above the guard, finding the security camera that broadcast images to the desk monitor while recording them somewhere in the building.

I want those recordings!

Mitch glanced at his watch. It was nearing seven o’clock; the night-shift security officer was due.

“Mitch?” J.J.’s voice broke his concentration.

“Yeah?” Mitch whispered into the headset.

“Are you sure this is going to work? There’ll be two guards to deal with during the changeover.”

“I know,” he whispered back, “but they’ll be talking, not watching the monitor. It’s our best shot. Just find the room where the tapes are – I need them and we’re running out of time!”

Mitch took in the area. The walkways reminded him of the modern shopping centers designed to make you walk one hundred and eighty degrees to get to each level.

A pain in the a*s, he thought. OK, walk around or straight up?

Mitch jumped up, missed and tried again. Grabbing onto the overhead landing he heaved himself up, squatted, and did a quick reconnaissance. He saw lights on in one of the rooms.

“J.J., the large room with the lights on, that’s got to be the main lab – and bet the small room next to it is our tape room,” he whispered into the mic.

J.J. came into sight from the opposite direction. He glanced through the glass strip on the door of the small room.

“Yeah, we’ve found it,” J.J. confirmed. “You’ll have to pass the main lab or drop back down below again and work in reverse.”

“Too hard; main lab it is. Head count?” Mitch watched J.J. move closer to the main lab, glance in and move back.

“Three. Two males at the back, one female near the door.”

Mitch checked the coast was clear and increased his pace, sidling alongside the lab wall. He looked through the glass strip and saw a diminutive female with long dark hair working inside. No one else was in view. He ducked underneath the glass and moved to the taping room. With a silent prayer, he swiped a pre-programmed access card in the slot on the door. The access light flicked to green and he exchanged a quick look of relief with J.J.

Mitch pushed open the door and entered the pitch-black room. He reached into his vest for a small penlight, flicked it on, surveyed the room and headed straight for a glass cabinet that housed numerous tapes, all dated. It opened first try. He found the previous week’s tape and set it aside. He stopped, listened and followed the whirring noise to locate the tape machine.

“s**t!”

“What’s wrong?” J.J.’s voice came through his earpiece.

“Tape recorder’s a hundred years old! Our blanks won’t fit.”

He glanced around and spotted some blank tapes still in their plastic wrappings on the counter.

“Make my day.”

“Come again?”

“Nothing, problem solved. Let’s cut the chatter.”

Mitch fished around in his black vest for a glove and put it on, being careful not to leave fingerprints. He grabbed a tape and unwrapped it, trying to minimize the noise from the plastic wrapping.

“What the hell’s that?” J.J. cut in.

“Plastic wrapper.”

“Nightshift’s arrived,” J.J. said. “I can hear them talking. Hurry up, you’ve got about five minutes.”

“Don’t sweat, I’m almost done.”

Mitch moved back to the tape machine.

“Just had a thought …”

“What?” Mitch asked frustrated.

“Old technology … what if their monitors go to black instead of relaying the hallway feed live?”

“Security’ll head straight to the tape room.”

“Great.”

Mitch positioned himself next to the recorder.

“Hurry up! What’s taking so long?”

“Shut up for chrissake, I’m working here.” Mitch took a deep breath. “OK, here goes. Stopped recording … eject … tape out … new one in … recording … done!”

They waited a beat.

“All clear. Didn’t even notice,” J.J. proclaimed.

“Excellent,” Mitch stuffed the tape and plastic in his vest, picked up the tape he had set aside and pried open the door. He spotted J.J. who gave him the ‘all clear’ thumbs up.

Mitch closed the tape room door behind him.

Less than three feet away, the main lab door began to open.