Chapter 6 - The Blackwood Perimeter
The Blackwood Facility was buried deep inside a thirty-acre private forest tract, surrounded by an eight-foot chain-link fence topped with razor wire and equipped with motion-sensing cameras every fifty yards. It had once been a weapons research plant during the Cold War, but Vanguard had repurposed it into a dark site—unlisted on public maps and protected by private security guards with government clearances.
I parked my truck two miles away in a thick ravine, covering the vehicle with pine branches and brush. Ranger and I proceeded on foot, keeping to the shadows of the tree canopy. Rain poured in sheets, masking the sound of our footsteps against the wet forest floor.
When we reached the railroad junction, a single figure in a black raincoat was standing under the overhang of an old freight shed. Ben Ortega.
As we approached, Ben stepped out into the open, raising both hands to show he was unarmed. Ranger growled low in his throat, but as Ben got closer, the dog smelled him and relaxed slightly, sitting down in the mud.
"He looks rough, Mason," Ben said quietly, looking down at Ranger's scarred flank. "I'm sorry. If I had known earlier..."
"Save it for later, Ben," I interrupted. "How many guards inside?"
"Vance has eight heavy contractors on site. They're scrubbing the basement servers and loading document boxes into a transport truck in the main courtyard. The main facility is powered by a backup generator right now because they've already cut the primary grid lines to avoid leaving a digital footprint."
Ben pulled out a paper blueprint of the facility and spread it across the hood of an old rusty train car.
"The server room is in Sub-Level 2," Ben pointed with a tactical pen. "The only way in without triggering the facility-wide alarm is through the old ventilation intake shaft on the north side. But the shaft is guarded by a bio-metric security door that requires an administrative keycard and a physical bypass code."
"Which Vance carries," I said.
"Which Vance carries," Ben confirmed. "Or... we use the emergency maintenance override inside the old kennel block."
I looked at Ben, then down at Ranger. "The kennel block?"
"When they built the facility, the kennels were equipped with a manual release valve that opens all security doors on Sub-Level 2 in the event of a fire or chemical hazard," Ben explained. "If we can reach the kennel control panel, we can trigger the override, unlock the server room, and upload the contents of your memory card to the Inspector General's network."
"And Vance?"
"Once the upload starts, the data goes live to the Federal Bureau of Investigation and Defense Criminal Investigative Service. Vance won't be able to cover it up, no matter how many politicians he has in his pocket."
Ranger suddenly stood up, his ears turning toward the northern fence line. A pair of headlights cut through the gloom of the forest track—a patrol truck making its rounds along the perimeter fence.
"We move now," I whispered.
We cut through the chain-link fence using heavy wire cutters, slipping through the gap into the interior compound. Ranger led the way, navigating the dark, overgrown grounds with a uncanny sense of direction. He remembered this place—not as a home, but as a cage he had spent years learning to navigate.
We reached the exterior wall of the main building, pressing ourselves against the cold concrete as the patrol truck rolled past twenty yards away. The rain was pounding hard, washing away our footprints almost as quickly as we made them.
Ranger stopped at a low, rusted iron hatch set into the foundation wall. He pressed his nose against the steel, giving a short, soft whine.
May you like
"This is it," I whispered. "The old drainage intake."
I pulled out a crowbar from my pack, jammed it into the hatch seam, and levered the rusted door open with a quiet metallic groan. The dark, damp tunnel led straight into the underbelly of Blackwood Facility.
