| "Missing" | ||
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May 24, 2008 2100 hours Duck, North Carolina Carter's house Dr. Noah Carter sat with a drink at his right and Clotho on his lap. The faint smell of tuna, or salmon, he didn't quite remember what exactly he had fed the orange furball tonight, but whatever it was lingered up to his nose. "Clotho, you really need to concentrate on cleaning," he muttered to the cat. Clotho just purred, kneading his paws into Carter's leg. Carter slipped the last of eight disks into his laptop and took another sip of his Jack Daniel's on the rocks. The glass tinkled delicately as he opened the files. He scanned them easily, not really concentrating on the task at hand. His lab in DC had been broken into almost a month ago and he had just seen the tapes this very morning. The Big One, the intruder, had moved stealthily and as one who knew the intricate workings of the facility. The Intruder knew the guards schedules and had eluded them easily. He also knew where Carter's lab was because even from entry the Intruder had made steadily towards it. Had the Intruder been there before? Carter tried to think, tried to remember. Surely, someone that large would not go unnoticed. Maybe by Carter who, in DC, always had an appointment or another, always ghosted the hallways quickly and with an innocent ignorance to any others. It just had never mattered. Well, until now. Maybe Lacey would have noticed him? She had not been privy to the tapes, but she had at least been interviewed by officials, investigators, the nameless people with badges that declared authority over them. Would she have remembered someone like this around the facility? If she didn't, and Carter obviously did not, had any others? And if not any others - what would that mean? How could the Intruder have gained such an intricate working of the security and the premises? Was someone working on the inside? Someone working against Project Capricorn? Carter finished the drink in his glass. Never. His team would never betray him. It was a good project, it was a worthy project. It wasn't some sick biochemical weapons research or WMD making scheme. No, his project was worthy of the fucking Nobel Peace Prize. Well, not all of it. He smiled softly and looked to the picture of his missing wife, Maggie, on his desk. "Not quite all of it," he said quietly. But still, That part of the project was unknown to everyone but him. And the Funder. And of course, tiny Clotho...but Clotho wasn't much for talking. Carter sat up straight, seeing something along the row of files currently displayed through Windows Explorer on his laptop. The sudden movement caught Clotho off guard and the feline, with a disgruntled meow, leapt silently to the floor. Where the hell were they? His mind raced as did his heart rate. He tried to remember the tapes of the break in. The Intruder, upon reaching Carter's lab had disabled the camera. Nothing was taken, well, one thing was taken, but Carter already had that back. And that in itself had weirded out Carter. Everything else, though, had remained intact. Or apparently, so he thought. Carter remembered being woken up in the middle of the night, informed of the break in, and his mad rush to his lab. He had went through the computers then, had checked everything out. But maybe he missed something? Maybe he was too distraught, felt too violated, too amped up and exhausted to have done it thoroughly enough? The Intruder would have had enough time to go through the large database in the lab. Would have had time to copy some files. Time to copy two files that were not on this disk. He popped the disk out studying it as if he could read it with his own eyes. Have those files, he pleaded with the disk, please have those files. He popped the disk back in and opened it up. He scanned again carefully leaning forward. His breath hitched in his throat. They weren't there. He sat up, still staring at the screen but not actually seeing it. All of his thoughts, his memory of that night vanished into some neurological void. He felt numb. How could he have missed these files - of all the files to miss - how could he have missed these two? Three. Three? He leaned forward again. No�four. Four files. Missing. He ran his hand through his dark hair. Four, his mind repeated. Four fucking files. "Ok, think...where else could they be?" His mind, after a moment of nothingness, suddenly raced. They could be at the lab, right? He snorted. No. The pertinent equipment they had needed to continue the project was with him, everything else had been shipped up north. Just today, he reminded himself. If the files were anywhere�they were there. But he had copied all the files himself on to the disks currently scattered on his desk. There was no reason to believe they were there. But they could be. They very well could be. "Oh god," he whispered realizing the enormity of his situation. Capricorn could technically continue, but the other one would come to a grinding halt if he didn't have those files. Then there was something else, someone else�the Funder. What if she found out? He got up and suddenly thanked anyone who would listen that is was the weekend, and turned off the laptop shoving it into a bag. She couldn't find out. He would just have to get the files. He would have to go himself. He would leave in the morning. It was a long drive and he would be by himself. After readying for bed he finally slipped under the covers and set the alarm for 5 am. He would just get a little sleep before heading out. Sleep, he almost laughed out loud. He doubted he would get any sleep. Four. Four fucking files. Missing. Return |
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