Uno and Fog: Sifting Through Records

The stairwell ends at the first floor, which means the only way down to the lower levels will have to be with the elevator, or the shaft.  Secret government facilities don’t need to emergency evacuation or health and safety regulations apparently.

I zipped through the outer hallway after accelerating my metabolism, there were cameras that were unavoidable so I fuzzed them out as briefly as possible hoping that the brief distortion wouldn’t raise any alarms.  I found the records room, disabled the alarms, and turned the tumblers over in the lock by creating a small electromagnetic force to move them.  It didn’t work on every lock, but it was surprising easy on the simple ones.

Once the room was unlocked, I went back and grabbed The Fog and zipped back in.  No alarms seemed to be going off, silent or otherwise (the advantage of being able to detect the electric fields around me is that even silent alarms aren’t exactly silent to me).  Once inside, with the door closed, we checked the area out.

There were file cabinets, the majority of them filed number labeled flash drives.  There were a couple computer stations set up to scan documents.  Along one wall were cabinets filled with paper files.

“We don’t have enough time to sift through all of those.”  I point out.

“There should be an index, I would guess its on the computers.”  The Fog sat down at one of the terminals and pulls out a couple flash drives and hooks them up to the terminal before turning it on,  a few moments later he has circumvented the security and passwords and is in the system.

“Here it is.”

“Check what Dr. Willis was working on first.”

“Already on it.”

“Looks like he was working on several versions of a serum they had developed for anthrax resistance.  Animal testing here on the island, the active files appear to be under AX with a number that follows.”

“That would explain why most of this place is underground.”

“And no emergency exits either.  Anything goes wrong, they seal everyone in here.”

“A little mad science, but even if he was trying to expose what was going on down here, it doesn’t seem serious enough to bump him off and cover it up.”  I head over to the physical files, they are alphabetical and then in numerical sequences.  There’s an entire row of AX files, followed by a row pertaining to another set of letters.

The Fog nods, “anthrax isn’t the only thing they were working on, there are a number of categories.”

I pull the last number in the row figuring it would be the most recent.  I open the file, the number pertains to an individual rat test subject that was still living that had been exposed to anthrax.  “Each file is an individual test subject.”

There were rows of vitals, blood draws, physical measurements, food consumption, stool size and composition along with numbers and terms that were meaningless to me.  None of these seemed like something to kill someone over or to cover up.

I step back and look at the files, pulling VX files near the end of the paper files shows test subjects exposed to a nerve poison.  SR were related to Sarin.  Put them back and look.  What could I be missing?

“I’ve got the floor plan of the building, there are ten levels below us.”

There is one file with no number at the beginning of all the files. I reach for it, and my gut tells me what I’m going to find but I open it up.

Left corner of the sheet is a picture of a young woman, along with all sorts of vital stats, it doesn’t take far to realize that is the source of the serum being tested.

“There’s holding cells on the lowest level.”

I turn to him, “and I know at least one of the people they have down there.”