“No. Because of what was written in that report presented to us by New World, this is even above her. We were both given direct orders not to disclose any more than what was in the folder.” Harrington held out a headset with a mic and camera.
Reese took it and put it on. “Guess it’s a good thing I don’t work for the Army.” Although Reese was aware disclosing those extra details could land him in a military prison cell. Something he wasn’t so sure he didn’t deserve.
Reese picked up the gloves.
“You’ll only need the left one.” Harrington removed a small packet from his pocket. “Put this on your right.” He tore it open and extracted an almost transparent latex-type glove.
“What is that?”
“Second skin. It’s impermeable but won’t interfere with the scanner.”
Reese took it. The material weighed nothing and attempted to float on the eddies of air stirred by his movements. “And how am I supposed to put this on without destroying it?”
“It’s as strong as any other latex surgical glove. It just costs five figures.”
“Good to know my tax dollars are hard at work.” Reese worked his fingers into the end. The transparent material stretched, sliding over his hand, conforming to the creases in his skin. Reese opened and closed his fist. “Wow.” If he hadn’t seen the faint clouding of the material, he would have never believed he’d put it on. “You do realize you could make literal billions if you made condoms out of this.”
Harrington snorted. “They go on the market next year.”
Reese arched an eyebrow.
“Who do you think manufactured it?”
“You’re telling me a condom manufacturer made this?”
“Know anyone else who’d be more inclined to give the lowest bid on its production in exchange for commercial use?”
Reese didn’t. “And you’re sure this will work? I get three fails between the scanner and the code. If this doesn’t read right, I won’t have any room for error.”
“Do you need me to write down your key code?”
Reese ran his touch up the back of his hand. It was like nothing between his fingertips and skin. “You won’t have it.”
“It’s in your file.”
“No, the first ten digits are in my file. The next twelve are in my head. Dr. Echols didn’t want the extended code published anywhere for security purposes.”
“It’s been years.” Worry edged the tone of Harrington’s voice. “Not many people can remember a twenty-two-digit code, let alone one that’s three years old and hasn’t been used in that three years.”
“Don’t worry, Led Zeppelin’s got my back on this one.”
The colonel made a face.
Reese hummed a few bars ofImmigrant Song. “It’s a lot easier for most people to remember a song than it is any numerical arrangement. If you train your brain to hear the notes as numbers, you can memorize almost anything.”
“You’re going to sing to the keypad.”
Reese rolled his eyes. “You’d better hope not. I can’t carry a tune in a bucket.” He headed over to the tent with the colonel. A young man in fatigues jogged up. He handed Harrington a piece of paper and was gone again.
Harrington opened it. “They’re pretty sure they have power to all the door panels.”
“They don’t know?” Reese caught himself poking at the invisible glove again.
“Level one, two, three, we can see them on camera four and five, no. Plus stairwells are blind with the doors shut. The computer says they’re on. That’s all I can give you.”
Harrington stopped at the flap. “Lieutenant Craige, you ready to do a communications check?”
The pimple-faced young man at the work station set up a few yards away nodded. “Yes sir, we’re ready when you are.”