Chapter 2
Razor-Wire and Laser Beams
Ryan and Regan waited for five minutes after their parents left the house—just to be sure—and climbed down from the attic to the second floor hallway in silence.
“What was that all about?” said Regan.
Ryan shook his head. Good question. His green eyes reflected worry and his short, light-brown hair was in disarray from having run his hand through his hair as he tried to make sense of what he had heard. The high- powered binoculars he had found in the attic were now hanging from a strap around his neck. “I wish I knew,” he said in frustration. “Mom and Dad are involved in something shady. And dangerous.” He held up the binoculars. “I think we need to learn more about Proact,” he said decisively.
Not waiting for a response, Ryan walked into his father’s office with his sister ollowing and carefully removed a dictionary from the shelf. He quickly flipped through it. “Prometheus,” he mumbled as he turned pages. “Prometheus. Prometheus. Here it is,” he said at last.
He cleared his throat. “Prometheus,” he read aloud. “A Titan of Greek mythology who stole fire from the Gods and gave it to mankind as a gift.” Stole fire, thought Ryan. So Prometheus was a thief. Just great. He frowned deeply and looked up to see his sister grinning from ear to ear.
“Why are you smiling?” he asked her.
“I was just picturing Prometheus trying to gift-wrap fire. You know that couldn’t have been easy.”
Ryan laughed, but his smile quickly faded as he returned to the problem at hand. “So Mom and Dad are involved in something very secret called the Prometheus Project,” he said in a serious tone. “And Prometheus turns out to be a thief.” He closed the dictionary and placed it back on the shelf. “Dad did mention a treasure and ‘breaking in’ somewhere. I can’t believe Mom and Dad would be involved in something criminal, though.”
Regan nodded. “Me either.”
“Somehow, we have to figure out what’s going on.” They discussed the events of the past six weeks to see if this could help them answer any questions raised by their parents’ conversation. It didn’t. All it accomplished was to raise additional questions to add to the puzzle.
Something had been fishy about the move from the beginning. Their parents were top scientists who frequently received job offers from around the world. They had always refused because they loved their jobs at the university and were not willing to leave San Diego. Until now.
So what had changed? Why had they felt they had no other choice but to move to Pennsylvania? Why did they have to leave immediately? And why would a company locate in a place as isolated as Snooze-ter? The town was mostly woods and farmland. The roads were not even paved—just dirt or gravel. Their new house was the only one for quite a distance. Proact was hastily clearing trees and building a large housing development about a mile away—the Resnicks were scheduled to move there in three months or so—but nothing was ready now.
They had no choice but to investigate further. And that meant a trip to the Proact facility. They had never been there before but they knew it was several miles south of them along a dirt road.
They jumped on their bikes and pedaled like crazy. Before long they spotted a large Proact sign off in the distance. They immediately exited the road and biked into the woods until they were out of sight. They parked by a tall tree and quickly climbed up onto some of its higher branches. Secure in the tree, they turned to get their first view of the now mysterious Proact facility.
It was surrounded by the most wicked-looking chain-link fence either of them had ever seen. A lethal, two-foot high coil of spiked wire, wound very tightly, ran along the top of the entire length of fence, like a giant steel slinky made almost entirely of knife blades. The fence created a square enclosure about a quarter of a mile on each side.
Regan shook her head, almost unable to believe her eyes. “I’ve seen barbed-wire fences before, but this is like something out of a horror movie. This makes regular barbed-wire look like a joke.”
“Yeah,” said her brother, nodding slowly. “I’ve heard about this stuff. I think it’s called razor-wire.”
Regan studied the fence more closely and realized that the tightly spaced blades were exactly that—razors—with pointed barbs at both ends. “It’s well named,” she noted grimly. Their dad had mentioned a laser alarm system and video monitors soon to come, but the sight of this deadly razor-wire barrier left no room for doubt. Their mom had been correct. This place had some serious security.
Off to one corner they quickly spotted the main Proact building. It was large, modern and very impressive. It was also unfinished. Unfinished? So why the hurry for their parents to come here?
Off in the distance they could see what appeared to be large signs attached to the perimeter fence at regular intervals. Ryan lifted the binoculars, put them to his eyes, and focused in on one of the signs.
WARNING—DO NOT ENTER! INTRUDERS WILL BE SHOT ON SIGHT!
He swallowed hard. Saying nothing he handed the binoculars to his sister sitting on the branch beside him. He watched a troubled look come over her face as she read one of the signs.
“Not exactly what I would call a friendly greeting,” she noted wryly.
Ryan nodded. “I guess they ran out of the signs that say, ‘Welcome To Proact’ with bright yellow happy faces painted on them.”
Regan smiled as she continued scanning. A few seconds later she pointed and said, “Can you see those men just inside the fence over there?”
Ryan followed her finger and could make out four men near the fence, looking small in the distance. What were they doing?
Regan carefully turned a small dial on the front of the binoculars to improve the focus. “They must be the ones who shut down the laser alarm system. It looks to me as if they’re checking to make sure it was reset properly.” She paused. “Take a look.”
Ryan put the binoculars to his eyes. Two of the men were throwing powder high into the air and watching intently. The falling powder passed through two previously invisible laser beams, each the thickness of a broom handle, and in so doing turned them both red and easy to see. Ryan had seen a movie about a thief trying to steal a diamond from the middle of a room protected by countless such invisible beams crisscrossing the floor—lasers of the type that only produced light and not searing heat. Anything that blocked one of the beams for even an instant, like part of a thief’s body, triggered an alarm. Particles from a powder mist, however, could make the beams temporarily visible without fully blocking them and setting off the alarms.
The beams ran parallel to the fence-line—about three feet in from it. One beam was about a foot above the ground and the other was about four feet up. Someone who managed the impossible task of getting through the fence without being cut to ribbons, and without being seen by the cameras, would still have a nasty little surprise waiting for them when they took their first step or two and walked through one or both of the invisible beams.
Ryan’s brow furrowed in deep concentration. An interesting thought occurred to him.
He used the binoculars to carefully explore the entire fence perimeter, foot by foot, looking intently for something in particular. After five minutes, he found it.
He lowered the binoculars. It was time for them to leave. They needed to beat their parents home.
But it was now crystal clear to him what he had to do the next morning, and despite the warm summer weather the thought of it brought a chill to his spine.