The Freelancer – Chapter 22
Saturday, September 27
It was slightly after three on Saturday morning when a shadowy figure entered the lab. He didn’t worry about being identified by the cameras. The baseball cap Alex left in his car a few weeks ago was pulled down far enough that the bill kept his face in shadows. Chad wasn’t worried about the security logs either. He’d been smart enough to take Alex’s keys and badge when he left earlier.
Once inside the lab, he worked efficiently pausing long enough to kneel down next to his former friend. As expected, he was still unconscious and his breathing was labored. Chad knew he would be dead before morning if he chose to leave him there. As appealing as it was to let the feds know he’d done this because of their interference, it was a risk he couldn’t take.
Chad realized during his surprise going away party he was careless the previous day. Because he hadn’t been expecting his friend to narc him out he hadn’t been prepared for what happened. No gloved hands, no careful wipe down of the room to ensure that a rogue hair wouldn’t betray him. Careless and stupid is what he was. If one single speck of DNA evidence linked him to Alex’s death the game would end here and he couldn’t allow that to happen.
It had yet to even begin.
Chad hastily undid the ties that bound Alex to the heavy workstation, a precaution he took just in case the injury hadn’t been as fatal as he hoped. He wanted the bastard to pay with a slow, agonizing death; however, if he miscalculated the head trauma he could simply get up and walk out of the lab.
“Right to the feds, you sonafabitch,” he said aloud.
Angry now, he turned on all of the gas jets and partially plugged in a Bunsen burner he retrieved from the trash. It was discarded Thursday for shorting out. Luckily, the cleaning staff was never permitted into the labs unless a service call was placed with them and a security officer was with them the entire time. The company would never know its need to keep things confidential was helping him out immensely.
Chad tossed Alex’s keys and badge onto his desk and fled the room. His last problem was solved for him the moment he saw an approaching security officer, one who was known for leaving his security badge on his desk.
“I’m so glad I found you, Sal. I can’t get Alex to come out of the lab. I don’t have a key to get in there and I think I smell gas.”
Sal let loose a string of profanity while he searched his keys for the master lab key. “I’ll get Alex out of there. You call 911.”
“Done,” Chad said as he started towards the guard’s station.
“Alex is lucky to have a friend like you Chad,” Sal called to him as he raced to what he couldn’t know would be his death.
The building’s doors were designed not to open without the employee “badging-out”. Chad knew the entrance/exit logs were stored on a server at an offsite location. He couldn’t use his own without linking him to the scene and it would raise too many suspicions if he used Alex’s. He was, after all, about to die in a laboratory explosion.
Chad grabbed the badge off of the corner of the desk and sprinted to the nearest door. Electricity and gas were volatile elements; almost impossible to predict. He stopped momentarily outside the door and ‘badged’ back in.
Sal was a good man. He deserved to die a hero.
