Webb had the kind of face that didn't make eye contact with maintenance staff. He was 34 years old and he had the build of someone who worked out because he was competitive, not because he enjoyed it and he was talking into his phone in a low tight voice. Darius let the stairwell door settle behind him. He moved left into the shadow along the wall of shelving units and moved toward the east side of the floor away from web toward the supervisor's office that he knew from the building schematics was glassed in. On this floor a fishbowl office where the records manager could see the whole floor.
It would have a landline. Records floor landlines were typically trunk line from the main building communications because they needed to stay operational during system maintenance. Victoria came through the door 30 seconds after him, saw him pressed against the shelving, saw Web across the floor, and without any signal from Darius moved toward him along the same shelving bank without making a sound. Web's voice was too low to make out words, but his posture was changing. Darius could see it.
That specific shift when a conversation delivers bad news. The shoulders pulled in slightly. The hand that wasn't holding the phone pressed flat against the window glass for a moment. Then Webb turned from the window and Darius could see his face, a young face under pressure. The kind of pressure that makes people's expressions do things they normally control.
He looked worried, which meant something wasn't going according to plan. Darius and Victoria reached the supervisor's office door. He tried the handle, unlocked. They were inside and the door closed behind them before Webb turned all the way from the window. The supervisor's office smelled like old paper and the specific staleness of a space used only during business hours.
A desk, a computer on the wall beside the door, a phone, white mounted, old enough to have a cord. Darius crossed to it and lifted the handset. Dial tone. He handed it to Victoria. She was already dialing.
Not 911. This time, she dialed a number from memory. Her eyes focused on the middle distance, the way people's eyes go when they're pulling something out of deep storage. It answered on the third ring. Daniel.
Her voice was controlled and quiet. It's Victoria. Don't ask questions, just listen. She paused. I'm in the building.
I'm not alone and I'm not in danger right now. But I need you to call the police and tell them there are two individuals, possibly more inside Hayes Global who deliberately sabotaged the building systems tonight. I need you to call Franklin at the board level and tell him the board meeting needs to happen now, not in 6 days. And I need you to. She stopped.
Listened. No, do not come here. Call the police. Call Franklin. And then send everything in the gray folder on my home server.