Callsign: Bishop (Erik Somers) (Chesspocalypse #5)

“How?”


“I think this place had security cameras inside. I’ve noticed a bunch of wires close to the ceiling that look like they’ve been snipped. If we find the room where their security was based, maybe we can scan the video files. That should tell us something.”

CJ’s eyes widened. “That’s a pretty good idea. But what if they took the security system?”

“I don’t think they did,” Bishop said. “They might have taken the cameras, but I think the system itself is still here.”

“You saw it, already. Didn’t you?”

Bishop nodded. “Just the base unit. Back in that first room. If we follow those wires,” he pointed to the ceiling, where a group of cables ran along the length of the wall, “we should be able to find it.”

“You’re good,” CJ said, his smile returned. “Let’s do it.”

The two followed the wires to a room in the center of the facility. The door was solid steel with a large window made from reinforced glass. The door stood ajar, and Bishop pulled the handle to reveal a small room with a bank of monitors on the front wall. There were eight monitors in all, and each one flashed static, casting the room in an eerie light. On the left hand wall was an empty rifle rack, and on the right wall was a row of cabinets. All the doors were open, showing them to be empty. Here and there a stray round sat on floor, the brass casings glinting in the light of the monitors, and Bishop guessed the cabinets to have been used for ammunition, among other things. The jihadists had even taken the chairs.

“They really cleaned this place out,” CJ said.

Bishop stepped into the room. He walked over to the bank of monitors and examined them. The equipment had been left intact. The terrorists probably hadn’t seen a need to smash it since no one knew the place existed, but had they searched it thoroughly? He hoped not. In less than a minute, he found what he was looking for.

“There it is,” he said. He reached into his backpack and pulled out the KA-BAR knife CJ had supplied, which he then inserted into a thin seam in the base of the bank of monitors. After a few moments of prying, a panel popped off, revealing a compartment underneath. The door to the compartment was locked, but the designer hadn’t put in a very strong lock. Most likely, they didn’t think they would need one since the compartment itself was supposed to be hidden.

“Did I say you were good?” CJ asked. “You’re James Freaking Bond.”

Bishop didn’t reply. Instead, he jammed the KA-BAR into the compartment seam and pried it open. It took a few seconds, but the lock eventually gave under the pressure and the compartment popped open, revealing a stack of DVDs. Bishop looked through the discs; all of them were labeled according to date and sector, with the last of the entries dated just over two weeks previous. Above the compartment, a single DVD drive sat, its light blinking red. Bishop touched the eject button and another DVD came out. This one was dated the day the two men from Hassi had found the place. He held it up to show CJ.

“Score!” CJ said, and held up his palm for a high five.

Bishop looked at CJ’s upraised hand and raised a single eyebrow in response. Not a chance. “These should tell us everything we need to know about who raided this place.”

CJ lowered his hand. “Here…” He reached around his back and removed his backpack. “Stick ‘em in there for the time being. We can watch them when we get back to Hassi.”

“We might be able to watch them now,” Bishop offered. “If the technicians were living here, there’s bound to be a DVD player somewhere.”

“Unless the terrorists stole it,” CJ said. “Those guys like to watch movies too, you know.”

“It won’t hurt to look. Besides, we—”

“You guys should get out of there,” Ilias’s voice crackled through the radio. “There is a helicopter coming. I can see it without my rifle scope. Ten kilometers away. Perhaps less, and moving fast.”

“Is it one of ours?” CJ asked into the radio.

“No, it looks like a charter. I can’t read the writing from here, but it has two-tone paint. Blue and tan, and it is flying straight toward us. No question. This is its destination.”

Bishop shoved the DVDs into CJ’s pack. “Let’s move.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” CJ replied, and both men ran for the exit.

On the way out, Bishop’s foot kicked something. He turned just in time to see a clear water bottle roll across the floor. It sported a bright yellow biohazard symbol on the label. The jihadists must have missed it. He thought he should grab a sample for the lab back in the US.