The pouring snow assaulted the facility, blanketing it in white and blocking off any door one would want to leave through. But who would want that? Something is about to happen.
"Rick, could you get me my schedule for today?" a man at a security booth inside shouted from across the room, before burning himself on coffee that was just a bit too sweet.
"Yeah, whatever," the burnout victim responded, limping out of the room. About five minutes later, he returned with the paper requested, before taking his own.
"Here you go, DeAngelo. It's almost Christmas, by the way," Rick reminded him. "Thought you might have forgot."
"Thanks. And that's Officer DeAngelo to you, sir," he quipped. They shared a laugh. They skimmed over their schedules together before DeAngelo shot an odd look at Rick. He whipped out his cellphone and called the director of Site-08, who didn't respond.
"What's wrong?" Rick asked, visibly worried.
"Marty doesn't just miss his calls like that. Something is seriously wrong here. I'm going to surveillance and getting a 'welfare check'."
"Wait, what? Is your schedule weird or something?" he frantically asked.
"Something like that."
DeAngelo rose from his chair and rushed through the hall towards the surveillance room, crashing into a maintenance worker and sending them both to the ground.
He got a hold of himself before checking on the worker, but was shocked.
"Benny?!" he shouted. "When did you get here? We've been snowbound for a week now, how'd you get past me?"
"I've been here since before the snow, bro. Also, I don't need to pass security because I'm maintenance. You should know that, Angie." he quipped at his friend.
DeAngelo remembered the weird guideline change before changing the subject.
"I was just going to surveillance—" they said in sync.
"Guy in there says nothing's working, called me," Benny finished.
"Marty didn't respond when I called him, Rick and I's schedules are abnormal and he's the only guy I can ask here. You can go anywhere, right?"
Benny nodded.
"Get me to the director, now."
They ran across the site to the director's office and when the electronic door hissed open, the picture painted across the decorated walls did not please them.
DeAngelo's trembling hands reached for his cell. As steady as he could, he dialed three numbers for someone he knew and spoke: "I need janitorial in Director King's office, now."
"Alright, listen up," DeAngelo spoke to the room. There were only nine people, including one in comatose, as they were short-staffed before the blockage. "Director Martin King is dead. Some of you are more hurt by this news than others. Expunge your tears, because that's the least of your worries. The most is that we are now snowbound with a murderer."
Eyes darted around the room, almost accusing each other of the unspeakable crime.
"I, Robert DeAngelo, am now Site-08's Acting Director."
That got their attention.
"Janitorial has already cleaned the office, and maintenance has been dispatched for the faulty security. I want a total recall of all schedules to my desk by the evening, as well as the finance manager to give me the reports of the last quarter of the year. Given we are cut off from the O5 Council and the rest of the outside Foundation, it is up to seven of us to work together to uncover the culprit, and one of us to slip up. It's ironic to say this but no one goes near the EVE crystal in subsection three, nor do only two people stay together for more than a few minutes. Everyone is on their A-game."
He finished with one last blow. "Mark my work, murderer: I will rat you out, and I'm gonna kill you. Any questions?"
The crowd was silent.
DeAngelo left the room, Rick and Benny following.
"Listen, all I'm saying is what if the murderer left before we got locked up in here? Might not even be here anymore," Benny suggested.
"Nah, talked with Marty after the blockage. He had to have been here the whole time."
"Maybe the coma patient in the medbay is faking it as part of an op?" Rick blurted out.
"Nuh-uh, I saw it myself. Genuine sickness. Who here has the most genuine motive to kill him?"
"Gotta do better than that. Who doesn't?" Benny responded. "That means they have a better cover for their true one."
They were interrupted by Thompson, Site-08's financier. He handed DeAngelo a large stack of papers.
"This is last three months financial reports, including medical, janitorial, security, administrative and more, sir. Schedules are in there too."
"Thank you," he replied. Thompson was as gone as quickly as he left.
"Well, I've got my work cut out for me. Whoever it is, they're not going anywhere, same as us. Goodbye now."
"Yeah, bye. Be safe."
DeAngelo sat at his desk with an MP3 player, rigorously studying funding of different departments in correlation with potential motives, especially the murder of a director and theft of an EVE crystal. He heard knocking on his door, so he rolled over in his chair and answered. Rick walked in.
"Am I interrupting something? You've been quarantined in here alone like Romeo for an hour now," Rick joked. DeAngelo rolled back and pulled out his headphones.
"Well, I've noticed from funding that it seems security has lessened a bit. No wonder we seemed to have been getting less and less luxury in our booth." He put a wad of chewing gum in his mouth. "There is a specific window for fifteen minutes this coming Saturday — toward the end of our entrapment here — where no one is actually manning subsection three. So, not only was the schedule a good call at the start of all this, but so was that, and my theory was right: someone is trying to steal the EVE crystal. It has to be someone with access to Marty's office because that also gives them access to the crystal."
"The only people would be Buck — the repairman — and Benny," Rick thought out loud.
"You're correct! However, Site-08's infamous, and in this case, fatal technical flaw is that lock systems deactivate in the case of system failure, so our guy could probably trigger that for access anyways. There aren't failsafes here, and I've been pleading with Goldbaker-Reinz for better stuff for ages now."
Rick took a second. "Either Benny has an alibi and is our guy, or was just doing his job."
"I've known him since kindergarten. I'm willing to bet my life." DeAngelo paused. "I'm getting a true time of death for Marty, and seeing if there are any records for it. Besides, I think we've passed our time limit on two people in one room."
"That, and we're below a mistletoe right now." DeAngelo looked up before rising and slowly shuffling towards the door, keeping his eyes on Rick.
DeAngelo spat out his gum and asked the man in the cold morgue if there was an exact time for Marty's death he could nail from the autopsy.
"Well, it was a gunshot wound to the head. Given the blood wasn't too fresh, my theory is that our killer was up way early, and killed Marty, who was working overnight, before packing his things and dozing back off to wake up with the rest of us. Something Lamb to the Slaughter style."
"Forensics found no DNA at the scene whatsoever, correct, Dick?" DeAngelo asked.
"Nada. Nawt a thing. It sure was nasty though. The bullet was identified as something not belonging to anything at our armory, but to your personal .45. That can't have happened, that much is obvious, so I'm thinking he grabbed your keycard and snuck it from the booth on the way, and made sure to gently set it all back."
"Well, good information. Thank you for your time."
"No problem!" Dick replied jubilantly.
DeAngelo returned to Rick in the security booth.
"Well?"
"I bet I know the timeline now. Someone was up early and stole my gun for it."
"Yeesh," Rick responded. "Any pointers to who yet?"
"Not quite. Although the window they had proves that the security failure was unrelated and it was up at the time, that doesn't point towards Buck or Benny still, they could've simply swiped a maintenance card. Still haven't a clue."
Rick thought to himself.
"Well, at the very least, I think we can rule out a good few people."
"Yeah?" DeAngelo responded.
"Yeah. It ain't Tommy, Goldbaker boys ain't legally allowed to do that."
"Murder is illegal too, you know?" DeAngelo joked.
"You know what the hell I mean," Rick giggled. "And he just doesn't have a motive. It isn't our comatose Larry, it can't be the dude from the morgue because I watched some recordings earlier and he's been up in there all night for some reason doing autopsies." He paused. "Oh, that reminds me, most of the feed went dark at three last night, guess I shoulda said earlier. Only got fixed after we found out about Marty."
"That's why Benny was called, and that's when we discovered it. I hate it when technology fails." DeAngelo thought for a moment. "Everyone we haven't brought up is a suspect."
"'Kay. I'm gonna go get my dinner. Bye-bye."
"Heya, Isaac. Just wanted to ask about last night."
"Well, what about it?" he replied.
"What exactly did you spend your time doing?"
"Well, there wasn't a lot to the night. Dozed off a few times while looking at computer screens, that's typical. There isn't really too much to talk about. Although…"
"Although?"
"Sorry," he apologized. "Old age. Late in the night, there was some technical trouble and I had to call Buck. He tried to fiddle with it, but to no avail, so he woke up Benny, but we still couldn't do anything, even with a long bathroom break. Must've been the steak," he quipped. "I suppose that was only restored this morning, after we found out about old Marty, rest his soul."
"Yeah, sure was. Thanks for your time. We'll have him found out soon."
"Thank you sonny. Buh-bye!"
DeAngelo sat at the dinner table with the other three, being Rick, Buck and Benny. The room was quiet and tense, full of anxiety.
"So, Buck, can I get your story straight?" DeAngelo asked.
"Of course! I got up around three — though my exact memory is a little fuzzy — and helped Isaac out with the security system, but we couldn't get it working, so I woke up Benny and for the next…"
"'bout thirty or so?" Benny interjected. "Minutes. We fiddled with it. Couldn't get it working. only did this morning after Marty."
DeAngelo thought about all the details. "Isaac said you took a mighty long bathroom break, Benny. Bad steak, he added?"
"Yeah, two nights ago, the spaghetti. Took the wind out of me."
"Hell yeah, that gets you. I don't know what 08 laces their food with. Well, that's all I need to know… what about you, Rick?"
Rick didn't even need to keep his composure, his eyebags did it for him. "You know I sleep like a baby. I can't wake up to my alarm when it's in my ear. And remember in high school when you did that water bucket shit and I tanked it?"
They all burst out giggling and snickering.
"Y'all, how am I gonna wake up without stimuli if I can't with it?" He kept a smile on his face for a long while.
"That's fair. That's also a problem: everybody in 08 can be ruled out, and our guy can't have left yet. My plan is to catch him Sunday, when he plans to steal the EVE crystal in subsection three, and get his ass."
DeAngelo and Rick shared a look. He understood the plan exactly.
"Sounds good," Benny replied. "Hope we catch him. In the meantime, how about we catch up? It's been a long day."
"Yeah… hey, Benny. You look nervous," DeAngelo noticed. "You okay?"
"It's all this. I'm worried. I don't want to not wake up tomorrow. I'm scared, Angie."
Buck looked at him. "You'll be alright, man. Just go lie down tonight. Maybe sleep on a different subsection tonight."
Benny stopped. "Alright. I'm gonna go. Goodnight guys."
"Night," Rick told him. "Have a holly jolly sleep, man."
They laughed. "It'll all be alright," DeAngelo assured. "Goodnight."
Benny left the room, the rest following suit soon after.
DeAngelo had been in subsection 3 the better half of Saturday, waiting for the killer. His theory was that if the culprit had shared dinner with them the previous night, he'd have to come early to snag it, and be caught there. He had a gun, a snack and a clock, as well as his patience.
He almost dozed off with the horrible sound of the crystal as white noise whenever he heard the door hiss open. He was spot on.
"Stop right there, scumbag!" he shouted with all the anger over Marty's death pent up inside of him. He raised up his gun square between the silhouette's eyes; he had been concealed by shadows. "Rick can't be checking up on me here, he has no access. Step over to me nice and slow and tell me who the hell you are."
The man stood still, slightly waving in the darkness. The ventilation poured hard, releasing stale air that tasted toxic on inhalation. The man coughed, and DeAngelo faltered for a moment.
"Promise not to be mad, Angie?"
Everything froze around him. The vents seemed to stop altogether. The hissing of the crystal in its containment was suddenly not so jarring as DeAngelo murdered the murderer with his two eyes. He lowered the gun. "Benny?"
He stepped forward from the shadows, presenting himself to his friend, who was now questioning everything he thought he knew about his world.
"I can explain everythin—"
"Yeah." He took aim again. "You'd better have a real good fucking explanation."
DeAngelo was shaking.
"Jesus, I'm sorry. Look, I—." Benny was stumbling over his words. "I've never liked the Foundation. I never show it, but all I want to do is get out of this hellhole and see my family for once. Not have to lie to them about everything. The only reason I'm doing this is because the Chaos Insurgency offered—"
"You've gotta be fucking kidding me, the Insurgency? The ones behind 9/11? That Insurgency?"
"I don't like them. But they're giving me a chance to just leave. They're pulling some strings and I just need that damn crystal and I can get a lifetime of money and leave, for good. No resignation process, no amnesticization. I can just go home."
DeAngelo kept staring him down. "Why'd you kill him?"
A tear rolled down Benny's cheek. "He was in the way. I needed him gone. I promise, the Insurgency is not going to attack 08. All they want is the EVE and they're out of your hair."
DeAngelo couldn't believe his friend. He didn't even know if he was his friend anymore.
"Give me one good reason I shouldn't shoot you dead right here, and report everything to the Council."
Benny tilted his head up. "I hate to break it to you, but I laced the vents with amnestics twenty minutes ago. You either shoot me and have a body to clean and a lifetime of trauma, or you let your friend do what they think is right, live happily and remember nothing."
DeAngelo scoffed. "Of course you'd do some stupid shit like that. What about Larry? Amnestic treatment in his coma could kill him."
"Larry flatlined last night."
"Oh."
They shared a conflicting look for a long while. DeAngelo eased up; Benny wasn't going to hurt him.
"Benny?" he muttered.
"Yeah?"
"Go see your kids." He holstered the gun and input the code to the EVE crystal. Taking careful steps, he removed it as Benny pulled out a specialized container and they worked to insert it and ensure it was secured.
Benny strapped a face mask onto his ears. They shared another look.
"I'm sorry Angie. I never wanted to hurt you. Or the Foundation. I just didn't want to stay here anymore and I can't rest with how the world is."
"Save it. It's fine." DeAngelo coughed. And coughed more. He went into a coughing fit. Benny held him until he was out.
"I put something in your desk," Benny got out. "Merry Christmas. Be seeing you."
"Bye-bye."
Benny got up and walked away with the crystal in hand. The storm eased up, and there would be a chance for him to leave in five.
DeAngelo woke up on the hard metal ground of subsection 3. The crystal was missing. Everything was missing, actually; he couldn't remember a damn thing.
"My head is killing me."
He got up and made his way to the elevator, heading to the main level to see what the hell happened. Arriving, he was met with Rick, foaming slightly at the mouth, and queasy. They looked to each other bewildered.
"DeAngelo?"
"Rick?"
"…I think we were mind wiped."
The incident was reported, Larry was cremated and sent back to his family, and arrangements had been made to strengthen Site-08's security. Nobody remembers what happened that Saturday, or the week before, but they do remember that Marty was dead, and the effects were still being felt.
DeAngelo denied the offer to resign and continued his work at Site-08, as the chief security officer. A new director stepped in. He retained a vague memory of having to check somewhere for something, but paid no mind to it; he believed it would come on its own eventually.
The Chaos Insurgency only grew in power. The Foundation was in danger of dethroning.
"Big news," Rick checked in to say.
"What's up?" They had been in their security booth for hours, it had gotten boring. And hot.
"Maintenance workers actually have to go through security checks now. Another win for us."
"Another loss, more like," DeAngelo quipped. "I don't want to go through this with more people."
He took a sip from a stale, cold coffee mug. "…maybe it's not a bad change. Hey, and tell them to fix these damn coffee makers next."
"Aye aye, captain." Rick gave a mocking salute. "Oh, and Merry Christmas." He made his exit.
DeAngelo sat in the booth, his helmet covering his eyes enough to doze off for a little while. But he was still confused and worried at the thought of his own memory being stolen. He just couldn't get good sleep. Deciding there was something missing, some hidden piece that would make it make sense, he opened his desk drawer and sifted through weeks of unfinished paperwork. He went so deep in he saw more with his hand than he did his eyes.
He felt something out of place; crumpled loose-leaf. He grabbed it and brought it up to his eyes, before opening it.
As he read it, it began to make sense. He teared up, letting out a pitiful chuckle. "Yeah, it really wasn't a bad change," he muttered off.
He tossed the wad of paper into the bin across the room and contemplated making a call.