Page 56 of Call Sign: Thunder
Chapter Twenty-two
ZACH
The Thursday traffic hadn’t been as bad as he’d feared, allowing Zach time to drive around the unfamiliar industrial compound three times, confirming that he did indeed have the right address.
Senator Benson had been annoyingly cryptic about what kind of job he was recommending. He hadn’t got his hopes up, suspecting he was being sent for some bullshit desk job, but even he hadn’t considered being sent for an industrial factory job. Hell, if he wanted that kind of work, he’d just move back to Chicago and work at his uncle’s machinery shop. At least there he’d have a family connection.
He parked his jeep in the almost empty parking lot in front of the brick warehouse. The sound of machinery banging behind the two-story garage door was the only proof of life in his entire line of sight. As he spun to look up and down the street, an eerie feeling of desertion came over him, reminding him of being in a post-apocalyptic world where he was the only human left on earth.
Zach shook his head to get the image out of his head. He was here for Allie. No, he was actually here for the chance at a future with Allie. The least he could do was go inside and hear what they had to say about this mysterious job.
Finding the metal entry door with chipped paint and the stenciled word ‘office’ locked was his next surprise. Glancing around he found an old fashioned doorbell with a laminated sign above it reading, ‘ring bell for service.’ It was as he pressed the buzzer that he spotted the high-tech camera turning in his direction.
Interesting. From the outside the building looked like it was thirty years past it’s prime, but as Zach took a closer look around the perimeter of the office portion of the building, he found more cameras and even more confusing, a line of what looked like fortified concrete barriers lined up behind the row of overgrown evergreen bushes. From the street they wouldn’t be visible, but while he waited for someone to come to the door, he came to the conclusion there had to be something inside this building more important than the bent metal sign with the faded ‘Zebra Printing’ warranted.
A woman’s voice crackled through the tiny speaker above the doorbell.
“Yes?”
“Zachary Garrett. I’m here for a job interview.”
There was no button for him to push to talk. After waiting for over a minute, he’d convinced himself she hadn’t even heard his answer, but then a long buzz sounded as he heard the door’s lock disengage, reminding him of being buzzed into a guarded apartment building.
It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting of the windowless entry once inside. He didn’t think it possible, but inside was even more depressing than the outside. A line of a half-dozen straight-backed chairs that looked like they hadn’t moved since before he was born filled the tiny reception area along with a musty odor.
He reluctantly walked to the glass window in front of him, only noticing the older woman sitting at the counter on the other side as he got close enough to see there wasn’t even a way for her to slide open the glass to speak with him.
“I wasn’t expecting you,” she said none too friendly.
Her voice crackled through a speaker reminding him of going to a currency exchange in a crime-ridden neighborhood. Definitely out of place in what was supposed to be a prosperous business district just outside of the country’s capital.
She added, “Who is expecting you?”
“I’m not really sure.” He wished he’d pushed the senator harder for details. “Senator Benson arranged for me to interview with someone about a possible job opening?”
“Senator Benson, you say?” Was he imagining the sour look on her weathered face? “Take a seat,” she tacked on, motioning in the direction of the chairs. “Let me see if I can sort out who you are to meet with.”
Zach resisted the urge to wipe his hand across the dusty and cracked seat before sitting down. He felt foolish now for wearing his only business suit as he doubted anyone who worked here would be dressed as fancy. Thank goodness he hadn’t wasted money buying a new suit like Allie had suggested.
Five minutes crawled by and then turned to ten. After waiting fifteen minutes, he’d tired of playing Angry Birds on his phone and turned his attention to inspecting the worn brown panelling covering the walls. He was about to look back down at his phone when he saw the small movement in one of the cracks of the panels. Pushing to his feet, he approached the wall and confirmed there was a pea sized high-tech camera pointed in his direction.
It piqued his interested and he took a few minutes to lay his hand across the wood, up and down on each wall, finding three more cameras.
What the fuck were they so worried about seeing out here?
The heavy door he’d come through earlier opening startled him. An intense looking man wearing Ray-ban sunglasses stepped into the small room. He carried an expensive metal briefcase, which was interesting enough. That the case was handcuffed to his left wrist was most intriguing.
The man didn’t approach the window, instead diverting to the only other door in the room. Zach assumed the door led toward similarly sparse rooms. The newcomer remained silent, not even acknowledging Zach’s presence as he pressed on the trim to the right of the door, popping open a previously unseen keypad. After punching in an eight-digit code a new opening appeared above the keypad. This time the man lifted his sunglasses just long enough to lean forward and supply his retinal imprint.
When the door finally buzzed, the guy replaced his sunglasses and finally spoke.
“Follow me,” he growled.
No hello. No introductions. Just a barked order.
Zach had had just about had enough of this little adventure Senator Benson had sent him on, but his curiosity about what the hell they did at Zebra Printing got the best of him, getting his feet moving to fall into line behind the mysterious man taking wide strides in front of him before the door slammed closed.
The paneled hallway was too narrow to walk side-by-side, and they passed a half dozen closed doors before arriving at the one and only open office.
