Chapter Thirteen

Delaney

My stomach was twisting a strange excitement as I unlocked my front door. There was something strangely satisfying about lying successfully, a sensation I'd never experienced before. It was mischievous and secretive, both at once; I wondered if the exhilaration of lying was the reason for Carlie's confidence. For me, at least, it brought about a feeling of invincibility.

After dropping off my bag upstairs in my room, I headed to the kitchen. But just as I was walking through the doorway, I ran into my dad. He had a tablet in one hand and a cell phone pressed against his ear.

"Right, okay, Ray," he said, stepping past me. "I'll be there in a few." He hung up the phone, acknowledging me with a distracted, "Hey, sweetheart."

"Where are you going?" I asked, surprised to see him out of his office so early. I followed him into the living room, where he swiped up his car keys and briefcase from the coffee table.

"Just in to work for a couple hours," he said absently. "There's a few things I have to finish up in the office."

I spoke without thinking. "Can I come?" I blurted. Dad turned around slowly, a quizzical look on his face.

"Why? I'm not going to be long."

"I..." He watched me expectantly. "I've been thinking about what you and Mom were saying. With the whole visiting your work and stuff? And I've decided—I've decided that it's a good idea."

Though he looked slightly less suspicious—and maybe even a little pleased—my dad still frowned. "On a school night? Are you sure, Delaney? You don't have homework?"

I forced a laugh, refraining from mentioning the English essay I had due the next day. "I'll finish," I assured him. "Really, I want to go."

After a moment of indecision, Dad broke into a smile. "That's great, Delaney. I'm glad you've changed your mind."

"So I can go, then?"

"I suppose that would be fine," he conceded. I grinned widely, hoping that would hide any traces of apprehension in my expression.

"Awesome, thanks, Dad!" I surprised him with a quick hug. "Let me just get my things."

Before he could respond, I dashed up the stairs and into my room. I dumped everything from my schoolbag into a pile on the carpet and threw open my desk drawer. From inside I selected several CD cases and fitted them with various micro-discs before dropping them into my bag. Then I added a jacket with a transfer drive zipped into one of its pockets.

"Ready?" Dad asked when I came pounding back downstairs. I nodded breathlessly. He seemed happy, so I tried to match his mood. I smiled until my cheeks hurt and fiddled with the cases at the bottom of my backpack, trying not to think of what I was about to do.

○●○●○●○

Dad and I ascended the steps leading to the main city building, which sat like a wedding cake atop a white marble pedestal. The building itself was white stone, with tall columns and a majestic dome that made it stand out among the highrises and power lines. Originally, I think, it stood in Olympia, but it was reconstructed in Seattle about fifty years ago.

As I gaped up at the hulking structure, my Dad approached the door, which automatically slid open. He stepped to the side and I hesitantly entered, passing through the metal detectors with out incident. As soon as I crossed the threshold, however, a large man with badge saying "security" stepped in front of me.

"Whoa, there, little lady," he said in a rumbling voice, holding up his hands. "Gotta get your bag checked before you can come any further."

I swallowed hard, blood rushing to my ears as I tightened my grip on my backpack's strap.

"It's alright, Francis," I heard my dad say, "this is my daughter."

"Sorry, Mr. Escott, security protocol."

My eyes were focused on the tiled floor. Dad sighed. "Alright, fine. Delaney, give Francis your bag." I didn't move. "Go on, Delaney."

Dimly, I realized that it'd only make me seem more suspicious if I didn't cooperate. And I'd planned for this anyway, right? Exhaling softly, I handed my backpack to Francis. He unzipped it and glanced inside, rummaging through its contents.

My heart nearly stopped when he pulled out one of the micro-discs and examined it with narrowed eyes. Then he smiled a little bit.

"Paramore, huh? Ancient stuff."

I felt my face turn red as I shrugged and said, "Yeah, well."

Francis continued searching my bag. I thought I was cleared, but just as he was about to hand it back, he asked, "Say, why do you have another jacket?" I looked down and realized I was already wearing a hoodie. Stupid, stupid, stupid. The guard's eyes were suddenly hard and wary, so suspicious that I stepped back.

"I...I..."

"Hey, now," my dad cut in, "no need to—"

"Aw, calm down, Mr. Escott," Francis laughed. "I was just kidding around. You're all clear, little lady." He winked at me as he handed me my backpack. I felt cold. "You folks go on ahead."

Dad led me through a spacious lobby, which had plush couches and chiseled coffee tables, to a set of elevators on the far wall, past the reception desk. The woman working the desk smiled as we passed.

It wasn't until the elevator was on its way up that my heart came down from my throat and I managed to clear my head. I had a difficult task ahead of me, and I needed all my wits about be if I was to complete it successfully.

Because it had to be successful, or else...

I shuddered involuntarily. My dad glanced over at me, but quickly looked away when the elevator stopped and the doors dinged open. We were on the fifth floor.

"Right here, Delaney," he said, leading the way into the hallway. We went through a few corridor, passing a person now and then, before stopping in front of a simple sliding door. There seemed to be hundreds of these doors lining the hallways, and Dad told me that each of them led to a private office.

As he entered the pin code to unlock the door, I looked around. The hallway was simple yet elegant, with clean beige walls and ornate molding. A few paintings were hung about, but other than that, there was nothing out of the ordinary.

Then I saw the door a few feet down.

"What's in there, Dad?" I asked innocently, pointing to the door, which had a plaque reading "Authorized Personnel Only" on its front. Rather than a keypad, like the other office doors, this one had a card slider.

Dad glanced over his shoulder briefly. "Oh, that's just a storage room," he said dismissively. But I caught a little flicker in his eyes. As he opened his own door, I frowned. If it was just a storage room, why was it so exclusive?

"Make yourself at home," Dad was saying. I stepped hurriedly into the small, nondescript office. Its floors were dark wood, and its walls white. A large mahogany desk was pushed against one wall, and a tan couch against the other. There was a window on the far end of the room looking out into a large courtyard.

I dropped my stuff onto the couch and watched my dad, who was standing at his desk sifting through papers. Somehow, I had to find away to get away from here and look around for...

It was then that I realized: I had no idea what I was looking for. Caleb had mentioned a computer with information, but I doubted he actually knew what he was talking about. The information, assuming it existed, could have been a physical file in a cabinet somewhere, or locked deep inside a vault in the basement. And the building was huge; even if I did manage to get away from my dad, I'd never have enough time to search through every nook and cranny.

It seemed to me that the best place to start would be the "Authorized Personnel Only" room. All I needed was my dad's key card and an excuse to leave the room, and I'd be good to go. That is, as long as I didn't get caught. But I tried not to think about that.

I perched on the arm of the couch and opened my mouth to speak, but before I could, Dad turned around. "Sweetheart, will you be okay here by yourself for a few minutes?" he asked. "I'm going to drop off a few papers with my colleagues and have a short meeting."

My heartbeat sped up. "Yeah, that's cool," I replied as calmly as I could. "I'll be fine."

"Great." I watched, disbelieving, as my dad took his keys out of his pocket and put them on the table. He turned around to me and smiled. "The door's code is 5273, in case you need to go to the bathroom or anything." I nodded numbly. "See you in a bit, kiddo."

"Yeah, sure, Dad," I said faintly. "See you in a bit."

After he had left the office, closing the door behind him, I stared at the keys for a good thirty seconds before my body kicked into action. I crossed the room and, with shaking fingers, lifted the keys from the desk. When nothing happened, I took a few steps back until my legs collided with the couch.

My throat was dry as I slung my backpack over my shoulders and inched to the door. The hallway was empty, but I was still wary as I stepped outside. With every passing second, I became more and more convinced that someone was going to jump out at me. This fear glued me to the spot, rendering me unable to move.

You don't have time for this, I reprimanded myself. The sooner you get going, the less chance you have of being caught.

I took a deep breath, then rushed across the hallway. With my back to the door, I glanced around again to make sure no one had appeared during my frantic sprint. No one had; I was still alone.

Pushing my glasses up my nose, I glanced at the Swiper, then at the key card in my hand. Was I really about to do this? I bit my lip and, before I could have any second thoughts, slid the key card through the Swiper.

There was a faint click, then with a hiss, the door slid aside. I found myself staring into a compact office similar to my dad's. This one, however, didn't have a window, and rather than a couch, a hulking file cabinet occupied its right wall.

Everything about the room was sharp and metallic, from the slate gray walls to the black iron desk. Mounted on the wall above the desk was a Paper-Thin monitor. A flat, button-less keyboard was built into the desk's surface with a touch-mouse beside it. All-in-all, it wasn't very impressive; I'd seen more high-tech equipment in the school library.

But maybe that's the point, I thought as I stepped inside and the door glided shut behind me. Maybe the simplicity is to deter any unwanted visitors.

Like me.

I ignored the file cabinet, because searching through it would take hours, and even if I did manage to find something, I would hardly be able to take it with me. Instead I approached the computer, and sat down on the stool in front of the desk.

After turning on the monitor, a log-in screen came up, asking me to input a password. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. I knew what I had to do; I just had to suck it up and do it.

I pulled a case from my bag, the very same one that Francis had picked out. Using my fingernails, I removed the inside of the case, revealing another micro-disc hidden behind it. This one was unmarked, so nondescript that it could have been mistaken for a blank. Even if Francis had searched harder, he probably wouldn't have been suspicious of the second case.

With trembling hands, I inserted the micro-disc into the tiny slot on the side of the monitor. My mind was a whirlwind of exhilaration, but somehow I managed to go through the motions. Highlight the field where the password was to be inserted. Press control and enter, then right click on the mouse. Select retrieve from the drop-down menu.

I did it all in a daze. When the password appeared in its place on the screen, I was so disconnected that I almost missed it. After it blinked a few times, I realized it was finished and quickly pressed enter. At that, the disc popped out of the slot, erasing any trace of its presence from the computer's memory. Then, with a blink, the monitor became a simple black home screen dotted with file icons.

I was in.

○●○●○●○

Two minutes later, I'd uploaded half the computer's files onto my transfer drive, which sent them back to my tablet at home using a private, untraceable network. I used another disc to pick out files that contained the words "Superior" and "Choosing" in their titles, which narrowed down the possibilities to about...two thousand. There wasn't time to be picky about the information, though, so I took what I could get. I wasn't even sure if the stuff I was transferring was even worth my time.

I checked my phone and saw that seven minutes had passed since Dad left me in his office. Considering we'd parked at the lot across the street, he probably wasn't back yet; but just to be safe, I decided to stop there. I removed my transfer drive from the system and did a quick sweep of the computer's logs, making sure to delete the memory of everything I had just done. When I was certain my actions were erased, I restored the computer to its original state.

Just then, as I was gathering my things, I heard a rustling from outside and froze. With my bag clutched in my hand, I inched forward. From the other side of the door, I heard the muffled sound of conversation, then the jingle of the person sorting through their keys.

Someone was coming inside.

I moved before I had time to think. As the sound of a key card swiping reached my ears, I dove forward and shoved the thin end of my transfer drive into the gap between the door and the wall, preventing the door from sliding. The momentum of the movement sent me rolling across the room, where I crouched next to the cabinet with my eyes screwed shut. After a moment of fearful anticipation, I heard a dull curse coming from the hall.

"Damn door," a male voice grumbled.

"Want me to go get Georgia?" another voice asked, this one female.

"No, I'll come," replied the first speaker. "Gonna give that lousy technician a piece of my mind."

I held my breath, and a moment later, heard the sound of footsteps retreating.

I didn't waste a second. Leaping to my feet, I yanked my drive out, stepping back as the door slid open. This time, I didn't bother to check for people in the hall—I just booked it across to my dad's office, hastily typing in the code and crashing inside.

It wasn't until then, as I sat there on the the hardwood floor, that I grasped the enormity of what I'd just done. The realization hit me like a freight train, and if I hadn't been on the ground already, I probably would have fallen over.

Looking back on it five minutes later, it felt like a dream. Had I really just stolen my dad's keys, sneaked into a restricted room, and downloaded information from a government computer? Useless, normal Loser Delaney would never do something like that. It was too bold, too unprecedented. Too risky. And yet, I'd done it. Now, all that was left to do was go through the files and see what I could find.

When my dad came back fifteen minutes later, I was calmly playing solitaire on his computer. "Ready to go, Delaney?" he asked. I nodded and gathered my things. "Sorry you didn't get to see any of what I do here. We'll have to come back again on a weekend."

"Yeah, sure," I murmured. "Sounds great, Dad."

Francis checked my backpack again as we exited the building, and once again, found nothing. He commented on another disc, this one by Maroon 5, and I smiled along with him. He had no idea what hid behind those discs. And little did he know, I had just stolen enough information to be imprisoned for a lifetime.

But that, of course, didn't concern him at all.

A/N: Ahhh, I've been wanting to get to this chapter for foreverrrr. I changed this whole part MAJORLY from the first draft. Comment with your thoughts! :D