Rosemarie Clark Stories

The delivery driver slipped back into the lobby with a cloth mask securely fitted to her face. She glanced back and forth quickly to make sure all the office workers had left the area, verifying that there was no one hiding behind one of the many trees inhabiting the lobby. The mask she wore was made of cloth soaked in a solvent that slows the poisonous gas effects and she pulled on a pair of black, latex gloves. The driver locked a U-shaped bike lock around the front door’s handles, yanking on the lock to test its strength. She stalked towards the unconscious receptionist and security guard all while avoiding cameras.  

Even with her mask, the noxious gasses could still affect her in only a few brief minutes so time was off the essence. She paused behind the receptionist desk to grab the security guard’s keys and badge off his belt. Ever the compassionate professional, the driver took the time to check that both men were still breathing before she took the bouquet of flowers and smashed the vase on the ground. Wisps of poisonous gas wafted up from the spilled water and began to evaporate. The combination of the building’s HVAC system and the live trees scattered through the lobby, the poison would dissipate and leave behind no trace, beyond the wet broken glass and scattered flowers. No one would be the wiser that the flowers were responsible for the breach. 

The driver left the desk and headed towards the tall, steel turnstiles preventing unwanteds from entering the secure parts of the building. The driver swiped the badge across the sensor, which unlocked the gate, and pushed through. She was panting slightly from the pressure of the situation and the cloth mask basically suffocating her. The amount of solvent that was needed to prevent the gas from knocking her out too resulted in a damp cloth that was almost like being waterboarded. 

The driver slipped into the stairwell and slowly held the door as it closed behind her, preventing any noise. She hesitated briefly, listening for any sounds of other people occupying the stairwell. The silence confirmed that there was no one else. Once she was satisfied, the driver took multiple steps at a time in her descent towards the basement. She found a faded sign that was smudged with an unknown, dark substance. Wiping away some of the substance with her gloved hand, she found that she had reached the level she needed, Sub-Basement B. 

While the poisonous gas worked fast, the effects were known to fade randomly depending on the affected person’s ability to process toxins and their lung function. For example, someone who has a strong liver and no lung disease like asthma, the poison would last only around 30 minutes. The driver knew she would have only enough time to complete her mission before either someone noticed the unconscious lobby residents or the gas effects wore off. 

The driver peeked through the cloudy window in the basement fire door, looking for anyone in the hallway. Seeing no one in the hallway, the driver eased the bar down on the door, holding her breath that there was no alarm, and pushed her way into the basement. She entered the hallway and hurried down towards the necessary door. 

There were doors that lined the hallway on both sides, and the driver cursed under her breath, trying to remember which door she needed. She ripped off her glove and checked the notes she wrote on her hand, a technique that served the driver well ever since high school. As with any personal flaw, the driver used workaround techniques to help prevent her weaknesses from affecting her job performance, like poor memory for details. 

With the fear of discovery and unsure if the poisonous gas had worn off yet, the driver was feeling the pressure of her situation. Her hands had started sweating and the crucial notes she had written down were marred. The smudged ink was almost worthless to the driver except for an eight or a B left over from the previous message. She paced back and forth and looked for any presence of an eight or a B on the signs by each door. Not finding either, the driver paused for a moment to catch her breath and figure out what to do. 

“Forget the door number?” a voice chirped in the driver’s ear. The driver looked up to the security camera affixed to the corner of the hallway and provided an obscene gesture. A snicker could be heard through the Comms earwig. 

“Any help would be appreciated,” the driver whispered into the mic clipped to her watch, using the moment to remove her mask and catch her breath. 

“Hold on,” the voice in her Comms replied. She could hear papers being shuffled as her co-conspirator looked for the information. 

Taking a breath in through her nose and out through her mouth, she calmed the nerves developing in her gut. This was not the time for anxiety. She must have been close to a full panic attack because there was an incessant ringing in her ears and her vision was narrowing. That only happened when things were about to be terrible. 

But, no. There was something about this ringing that wasn’t being followed by the room spinning. The driver realized it wasn’t the start of a panic attack. No, it was the server room whining, signalling she was close to her target. 

The driver had wasted precious time with her self-doubt and on mission, that can get someone caught or worse, killed. She broke into a sprint towards the whine and found the door she needed. “Found it,” the driver informed Comms as she slid to a stop in front of the server room. 

Scanning the security guard’s badge, the driver entered through the outer door of the server room. The driver knew to expect the second door would require a little more effort than the first. She extracted a thumb cast from her pocket, peeled off the thin layer of rubber with a fingerprint of the CFO acquired before she even entered the building. The driver placed the rubber on her own thumb and activated the thermal scanner lock. She punched in the code, which thankfully hadn’t sweat off her hand-note. “Technology these days,” she muttered in amazement. She remembered the days before fingerprint thermal scanners when all she needed was a lock pick to get into a secured room. Or, you know, brute force. 

Inside the server room, the driver quickly inspected the setup. The two doors had wasted more of her precious and fleeting time before detection and she hopefully still had a little more luck to spare. Unfortunately, out of the corner of her eye, the driver saw the shadow of a figure looming in the corner of the room.