TWENTY-NINE

Leo, the security manager, had an office on the third level. No windows. Just a swivel chair facing a computer screen on a desk, surrounded by an array of half-eaten donuts. A tall filing cabinet, under more half-eaten donuts. And a row of video monitors, too much out of reach to be victimized by food litter.

Pierce had introduced himself, shown identification. Now he was standing behind the swivel chair, focused on the monitors above. Seated in the chair was a large, large man in a security uniform barely able to contain the folds of flesh that spilled over his belt like meat from a sandwich. A guy named Leo. Sweat beads popped through sparse hair. The scramble out of the building during the fire alarm had not been kind to Leo. The forced march back to the office to meet Pierce had exacerbated the man’s wheezing.

Pierce breathed through his mouth. Leo needed a few lessons in the basics of personal hygiene, and the large man’s body heat radiated not only the day’s sweat, but probably leftovers from the entire previous week.

“Go back twenty-four minutes,” Pierce said. He’d cross-checked the time against the original footage shot from the wheelchair. That’s when Razor and Caitlyn first began running.

“Lot of Influentials from this building going to be making calls about how you disrupted their lives,” Leo said smugly.

“Twenty-four minutes.” Pierce needed results. Immediately. What he wanted was to see the movements of Razor and Caitlyn. Give him an idea of how and where they’d escaped. “Show the basement camera first.”

“Whatever you’re looking for,” Leo said, “better be worth it.”

Pierce dropped his hands on Leo’s shoulder. Pierce dug his fingers through a layer of fat and found a loop of muscle and pinched slightly.

Leo spasmed as he screeched.

“Need to see those fingers on the keyboard,” Pierce said, no heat.

Leo didn’t need another prompt. He clicked at the keyboard, and within seconds the videoscreens went blank.

“Huh?” Leo hunched forward and did some more keyboarding. He tilted his head upward again.

The screens were still dark.

“Explain ‘Huh?’” Pierce said.

“Here’s a half hour ago,” Leo said. More keyboarding. The screens flickered with images again.

“Here’s ten minutes ago.” Leo’s fingers flashed. “Look at the basement hallway. There you are.”

Pierce saw an image of himself. Looking into the elevator. With Buzz Cut beside him, arms crossed.

“Now,” Leo said. “Here’s twenty-four minutes ago. Correct that. Twenty-five minutes ago. The exact time you wanted.”

Dark screens again.

“What’s happening?”

“Not what’s happening,” Leo said. “It’s what happened. Someone got into the system and shut everything down. Let me read some code here.”

Leo craned his head at the computer screen. “Someone must have hacked in. Put a fifteen-minute timer on the shutdown.”

“How?”

Pierce didn’t have to ask who. Surveillance shuts down when Razor is trying to escape? Obviously the rich kid had done it. But learning how would tell him more about Razor. “Got a list of people who have access to administration on this?”

“I’m just a flunky.”

“A flunky who has access that lets him read code?”

“I can read it. I can’t write it.”

Fair enough, Pierce thought. “So it’s either someone who had access or has managed to hack this.”

“Yeah.”

“Get me a list of administrators.”

“Be a few minutes. I’ve got to make a call and get authorization.”

“As long as you stay in this room,” Pierce said. Hopefully he’d start getting used to the smell. “I’ll be right beside you.”