June 29th, 2021
2130 hours
Robyn gripped her steering wheel in agitation, furious for how the scene had played out back at the lab. She had been unable to keep the high ground, and, after all attempts to thwart the inevitable, the dolphin had been loaded up in a high-security transport vehicle to an equally guarded facility. Likewise, all her notes and evidence had been confiscated, much to her protest.
That agent was insufferable: she loathed him with her entire being. She was far beyond infuriated. Quinn had assured her access to the remains, not to mention her participation in the necropsy and pending assessment. But then, he was FBI, and as such, allowed to do whatever the hell he pleased.
So, after promising, though not in so many words, that Robyn would be allowed to oversee the proceedings, he'd unceremoniously commandeered the dolphin and shipped it off quickly. Robyn, shocked and speechless, had stood stiffly in the room as suited hazmat agents pillaged her belongings. Books, pictures, x-rays and scans, samples: they were all shepherded into large, secure containers and taken. Right before her eyes, her research gave her the middle finger and exited the premises. Disbelief had rooted her to the spot, all the while Quinn leaning against her desk, a small, victorious smile on his full lips. After moments, only her unused medical instruments remained, plus a few scraps of inconsequential paper.
At this point, though she would only recall the event through George's recount, Robyn had calmly strolled over to Quinn and decked him. Embarrassed as she was, it hadn't been her finest hour, neither had it phased Quinn. That really pissed her off. Robyn never heard such obscenities come from her own mouth before, and was quite unaware where she'd come up with them all, but she'd given Quinn such a berating that the queue of scientists had reemerged from the lounge and gawked in disbelief.
She was vaguely aware that some were jotting down fevered notes, no doubt giving her terrible reviews for unprofessionalism, but she didn't care. Something about that extremely dashing, self-made, infuriating excuse of a gentleman really pissed her off, and she intended to make it well-known how unwelcome he was.
Which had embarrassed her more, since yelling at him seemed to have no effect. He'd stood there, arms crossed and still leaning casually, though now on a pillar, little more than demure placidity masked on his face. When she finished her cursing rant about government stooges, who blindly followed a baseless power that was more showmanship than justice, he had simply laughed.
Finally, Robyn left willingly, unable to bear his presence any longer, dragging George along with her to one of the records rooms in the attic. Then, understandably, she'd spouted a tirade about how unethical the whole ordeal had been. Poor George endured this for a good hour while she blew off steam. He'd had the foresight to order a food delivery, which she graciously accepted, once she noticed how irate her stomach was. They'd tucked in to the best Asian food Robyn thought she'd ever had, while carrying on a discussion about insufferable government officials. Hours passed as they stuffed themselves with chow mien and egg rolls, having been rendered famished by the day's events.
By that point, the team Quinn had called in to seize the contents of the lab were gone, but not before she made a mental note in what direction they left. It wasn't in her nature to just roll over and take such presumptuousness; she would go down swinging. Robyn knew they couldn't go far, and began immediately preparing a list of buildings on the island she imagined could house a secret government facility. The list narrowed down to a couple options when she weighed in the equipment required for a proper necropsy. Given the time provided, it was unlikely the FBI had time to ship in their own machines, so they would need a facility that was already equipped.
The vans themselves were inconspicuous, but even so, chances were good that they wouldn't be just sitting outside wherever they'd gone to. Therefore, the mystery building must have garages, and a loading dock where they could unload the carcass. This left her with just one building, hopefully, that fit the profile.
The result of that realization was a very slow, agonizing jeep ride, with George muttering incoherently every few minutes and Robyn shushing him nervously.
The beach houses were haunting silhouettes in the dim light of the moon, and as she navigated the car through the back streets toward her destination, they left the beach front and were met with the sight of small, unkempt houses in demure rows.
Eventually, the jeep coasted to a silent stop and Robyn turned off the motor.
"What are we doing here?" George asked, bewildered. Several familiar buildings glowed in the blackness, their glass facades twinkling as colored spotlights illuminated their smooth, triangular surfaces.
Robyn hadn't exactly told him where they were going. "I'm pretty sure this is where Quinn took that dolphin."
"I thought we were going to get drinks!"
"We will." Robyn shrugged indifferently. "After."
"What? You aren't serious!"
Robyn rolled her eyes at the incredulous look on his face. "George, I'm dead serious. This situation with Quinn outright sucks. You know this isn't right."
"No, you're right," George hissed, "breaking and entering is illegal."
"We won't break anything." Robyn's voiced pitched as she forced an encouraging smile. "There's a state-of-the-art lab in there. We need what's in it."
"I know that." George scowled; eyes narrowed in disbelief. "But burglary?"
"Coming?" The Cheshire smile widened.
He sighed at her overly sugary chirp. "I guess, as long as you stop grimacing like that." He grumbled.
Robyn frowned. "Gee, thanks for the support."
"Are you sure they're here?" George squeaked. He blushed and cleared his throat, shaking the mousy hair from his eyes.
"I'm positive." She inhaled deeply and let the breath out slowly, attempting to ease her nerves. "It's now or never."
As she got out of the jeep, she thought she heard George say 'I'll go with never'.
"Hey, wait!" He called, trying to extricate himself from his seat belt. "How are we going to-hey, wait!"
Robyn strode ahead confidently, resolution coursing through her.
"You can't just walk right in!" George called, huffing behind her as he caught up in a trot.
"Shh." Robyn hissed. "Don't be so loud. That is exactly what we are going to do."
"But what if someone sees us?" George stammered.
"Hide."
"Oh, wonderful advice." He panted sarcastically. "How do we get in?"
"Ah." Robyn blushed. "I have that part of the plan covered."
George narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "What did you do?"
"Oh, nothing really." She didn't look him in the eye, however, and when she didn't elaborate, he gave her the most disapproving of looks. "Fine. I borrowed Professor Lancastor's badge and made a duplicate."
"You what?" He leaped back in alarm.
"Don't judge me." She snapped. "We needed in."
"Of course, but all the doctoral candidates have access to these facilities. You don't have one?"
"I haven't finished my dissertation." Robyn grumbled. "Which is why I really need that research back."
"I didn't know that." His eyes were apologetic. "Why didn't you finish?"
"I had funerals to go to the day I was scheduled to sit my panels." She mumbled bitterly. "I hadn't completed my conclusion due to the...the accident, so they took family bereavement into consideration and allowed me an extra year to finish."
"But they gave you the title?"
"Yes." She whispered, trying to keep her eyes from leaking.
"Do you want to talk about it?" His eyes held a sadness in them that she didn't want to face, especially when she was about to break a handful of laws.
"George!" Robyn barked in emotional defense. "Now isn't the time."
"I'll save it for the bar, then."
"Thank you." Robyn chanced a side glance at George. On more than one occasion the suggestion of dating had arisen, and she'd wholly considered it. He was cute, not in the least unseemly, and pleasing enough to look at. He was quite charming, intelligent, and generously kind. This, though, was what kept her from taking him up on the offer.
Robyn didn't like the stereotypical bad boy, per se, but the thought of having the fragile psyche of someone on her hands who substituted self-preservation for incredible gullibility didn't appeal to her. So, many Fridays would find them having drinks, purely platonically, and talking. Though not necessarily dating material in her eyes, George was a great ear to chew when she needed it, and she reciprocated the gesture when he needed to talk.
They were at the back entrance now, the large, pyramid shaped construct more intimidating in close proximity. Robyn cleared her throat and paused, her heart beating erratically. Her thoughts whirred with a wildly amusing array of potential consequences: jail, felony, disbarment. Her reputation-not to mention, George's as well-were on the line.
"Well, it's eat, or be eaten." She mused, breathing rattled.
"Ironic." George whispered as the shadow of a mounted orca hanging from the entrance hall cast a shadow over them, the false teeth pearly in the dim light.
Robyn squared her shoulders. "Stay here and be the look out."
"What do I do if security drives by?"
"Invite them to talk it over, perhaps with a nice scotch?"
"Smart-ass."
"Here goes nothing."
She fought to keep her hand steady as she swiped the key card. The red light on the security panel flashed blue and she heard the unmistakable click of the lock releasing. She slipped through the door quickly, before common sense won over her fierce determination.
Glancing back, George's nervous eyes searched hers before she plunged into the bleakness of the tourist halls.
Adrenaline rushed pleasingly through her veins, spurning her to press onward. Past the halls, toward the end of the building, stood a heavy, unmarked door marked employees only. Again, Robyn wielded the security badge and swiped it, trembling with relief when it accepted the code.
Far heavier than it appeared, she had to put her weight into it as she tried to pry it open. When there was space just wide enough she darted inside, happy to be out of camera view.
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust. When they did, the faint glow of the red exit signs illuminated the space enough for her to make out a set of stairs that descended. She swallowed the nervous lump that was growing in her throat and steadily made her way down the wide stairs. They seemed to go on forever, and she briefly wondered if she should just turn around, but a moment later her foot met even flooring and she breathed out in relief.
A long hallway with evenly spaced doors loomed ahead. She wasn't sure which one to take, and unfortunately, these all required a key card to access as well.
Robyn scrutinized each one as she began walking past, attempting to find markings of some kind to indicate which one she needed. The smooth walls were bare, devoid of even room numbers. She frowned in irritation, drawing her lip between her teeth, a nervous tell that she hated, but it was an unfortunate habit she couldn't break.
She sensed it: how, she had no idea, but the room she needed was the one at the very end. It seemed to call to her in some forbidden, otherworldly language.
She swiped the stolen badge and snuck into the room. It was pitch black, but the light creeping in from the hall illuminated the space just enough that she could make out the silhouette of a desk lamp. She switched it on with quick fingers, taking in the surroundings as they were bathed in a soft, yellow glow.
There was a desk in front of her, though it was spotless on the surface, devoid of anything save a computer and the lamp. The drawers underneath looked promising, so she slid them open and sifted through the paperwork. Of course they weren't locked: nobody would assume someone could get past the security doors.
She slipped the top file out, quickly shuffling through the documents, eyes lighting up with recognition. It was her initial report, along with a tagged system indicating where the samples were kept.
She referenced the coding chart, noticing that the light didn't fully reach the evidence cabinets, and unzipped her bag, withdrawing a flashlight. She mentally berated herself for not remembering she had it. Pressing the button, she switched it on, clamping it between her teeth to free up her hands, grateful to have another source of light.
Robyn crept up to the cabinets to her left, opened the second from the right and scooped the evidence bags and vials into a small bag around her waist, not bothering to check the contents: anything and everything would have to come with her. Time was not on her side, and she could always sort through them later. Samples secure in her pack, she tucked the file inside the band of her pants, smoothing her top down over it.
Her body hummed with excitement, having momentarily usurped the insufferable FBI agent.
She clicked the lamp light off, tucked her flashlight under her arm and darted out the door, pleased with the ease of the mission.
In hindsight, it had been much too easy for her, but in that moment, she was the one who came out on top.
She cracked open the door, glancing to check if the hall was clear. Seeing that it was empty, she began her trek down the long hall, jumping slightly as she noticed another figure skulking toward her, their body just visible in the faint, red glow. She quickly switched off her flashlight and stepped to the side, hesitantly continuing up the hallway.
Fear gripped her heart: it wasn't George, she would recognize him anywhere. Time seemed to slow as she desperately came up with an excuse for her presence. Ultimately, she decided the best thing would be to play it off and act as though she belonged there.
The seconds dragged by as she continued, the figure coming ever closer. It nearly stilled as they were in position to pass each other, and she turned her head to nod at the person, hoping it would be enough of an acknowledgement they wouldn't question what she was doing there.
Her eyes met a disheveled, hunched male, adorned in a white lab coat. His hair was thinning, dingy, and so greasy she could see the filth in the dimness. His darting, brown eyes met hers and she nodded again, skin tingling with anticipation as they passed one another.
It was odd that someone would be here this late, but then again, so was she. The only difference was, she happened to be there illegally, and this man probably worked here. Still, he seemed out of place, as if he didn't belong.
He gurgled an inaudible greeting in return, and as he nervously continued down the corridor she frowned at his retreating back. His presence unnerved her, and she hurried up the steps, eager to be free of the dark depths.