A Heartbeat Away - Michael Palmer [107]
“How wide is that vent shaft?”
“Big enough to fit you inside, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“That’s what I’m thinking.”
“But not a heck of a lot bigger in diameter than that. Plus, from what I recall, after it leaves the Kitchen, the duct makes a pretty intense vertical rise. There are not many sharp bends in ductwork, or long horizontal runs, because those put a lot of strain on the exhaust fans. On the plus side, the discharge is well outside the perimeter of the base.”
“So nobody would see me exit?”
“Not even if they were using searchlights.”
“How do I get in?”
“First, you have to be suited, so that’s going to make the work harder.”
“What tools do I need?”
“A screwdriver and ratchet should do it. You’ll have to remove the pre-filters first, then the HEPA filter from its housing, clear the bags from the safety and cinching straps and such, the blower too. Piece of cake.”
“That’s some cake. Is the exhaust system alarmed?”
“It is, but I can shut that down.”
“How long will it take me from the Kitchen to the surface?”
Forbush pondered the question.
“Twenty minutes, I would guess. You’re going to have to shimmy your way to the top. That will be the hard part. Keep your hands and feet pressed to the sides of the duct and inch your way up.”
“Sounds tough.”
“If you slip, you’ll fall like you were on one of those giant water chutes. You could twist an ankle or break a bone when you hit bottom, in which case you’d never get back up to the safety grate.”
“You don’t sound very optimistic.”
“That depends on how well you kept yourself in shape in that cell. Give yourself thirty minutes instead of the twenty I said. There’s a ladder bolted into the duct at the far end. That should help.”
Griff checked his watch.
“I have a couple of things I want to finish in the lab. I’ll be ready to go at two this afternoon—no, make it three thirty. It’ll be almost dark then. If it takes me longer than we think, I don’t want you waiting around in the dark in the middle of noplace. Can I just climb out at the other end?”
“The safety grate is heavy. You won’t be able to push it off without a winch pulling from the other side.”
“Do we have one of those?”
“In the machine shop, I think. I should be able to attach it to the trailer hitch on my Taurus.”
“Then it’s settled,” Griff said. “Meet me at four o’clock by the grate.”
The intercom system buzzed its shrill alarm. It was loud enough to be heard even inside spacesuits and it happened whenever somebody surface-side wanted to speak to someone below. All of the phones subsurface had an instant push-button connection to the topside communication post.
“Rhodes here,” Griff said into the phone’s receiver.
“Rhodes, it’s Sergeant Stafford. How’s it going down there?”
“Let’s just say that if this were easy, everybody would be doing it.”
“Not me,” the soldier replied. “I’ve already seen what that virus can do. Listen, an unexpected surprise visitor just flew in. He wants to meet with you right away.”
“Who is it?” Griff asked, rolling his eyes at Forbush. “I’m really busy.”
“It’s the guy who, unless you can deliver, is now just a few heartbeats away from the presidency—Homeland Security Secretary Paul Rappaport—our designated survivor.”
CHAPTER 49
DAY 6
10:00 A.M. (EST)
The tension evident in Bethany Townsend’s expression made Ellis uneasy. There was a look of concern about the president’s physician that the speaker simply did not understand or trust. Did Townsend know about her sneaking into the Senate Chamber? Could she be aware of her role in the murder of Archibald Jakes? If so, why was Townsend the one confronting her, and not Allaire. Something did not add up, and Ellis was never in the mood for surprises.
Even more disturbing was that Townsend had come accompanied by Henry Tilden. At the physician’s request, they had convened at the rostrum where their conversation would not easily be overheard. Given