Free Undisclosed by Jon Mills

disappointing.”
    Scott raised his weary head and gave him a look of disgust.
    “Let’s skip with the condescending speech, shall we? When the police hear about—”
    “Don’t act as if you don’t know what’s going on here. Your activities have been monitored closely since the beginning. Do you really think we could run an operation this large, for this long, without being able to detect cracks forming in the framework? I just didn’t think you were stupid enough to carry it out.”
    Weak and in pain he lifted his head. “Where is my son?”
    “Where is our data?”
    Scott kept his mouth shut.
    “Fine, then while we sort out this inconvenient hiccup, you’ll continue your work.”
    “Where is my son?” he demanded.
    Harlan gestured to the men. “Get him cleaned up and put him back to work.”
    Scott attempted to resist as the men dragged him out, but it was useless; exhaustion and pain made struggling impossible.
    “Harlan—if you lay one hand on my son, I’ll …”
    The doors closed with a hiss, blocking out his threats.

 
    Chapter Seven

     
    A stream of hot shower water poured over Travis’s head as he leaned into the wall, stabilizing himself with one outstretched hand on the slippery blue-tiled wall. Steamy fog circled up around his badly bruised body, misting up the patterned glass of the shower stall.
    Who was the girl? What did she think he knew? Who were the others? Their voices resounded in his head; images of the man with steely, dark eyes filled his mind—so many questions and few answers. He rinsed the soap from his hair, relishing the heat as it wrapped his body like a blanket and eased his aching bones.
    Still lost in thought, he stepped out of the shower onto the cold floor and toweled himself dry. Who spoke with Mom? Surely someone saw them that night?
    One thing was for sure; he wasn’t going to lie around waiting for the answers. But where to start? He pondered the next step while slipping on the fresh pair of jeans, T-shirt and hoodie his mother had brought him.
    It was now dark outside. A heavy downpour of rain battered against the glass window, and tree branches creaked as they spread like veins against the lightning-filled sky.
    He sat on the side of his bed and tied up the laces on his boots, listening attentively to the local news on the television, hoping to catch even a smidgen of news about the crash, but there was nothing except a replay of a news conference during which chairman Harlan Kaine had announced the upcoming grand opening of tours through Los Alamos Laboratory. It was monumental news that had been making headlines on major newswires, as the place had always been off limits to the general public. They were testing it first with the schools; two classes had already gone through. Apparently the tours were meant to help bridge the gap between the Lab and students who would later become future employees. Inspire them to work hard and give them insights into work at LANL and what their future could hold there. Though Travis had his suspicions.
    He scanned the cramped room, looking for anything to wet his sandpaper-dry mouth. On the side table he spotted a bottle of water, and he leaned forward and grabbed it. He twisted the cap and poured it into a cup, then tipped a plastic white ice bucket towards him. “Great!” he sniffed; it was empty. There was nothing worse than warm water.
    Grabbing the bucket, he went outside into the corridor, ambling down the long hallway of doors. The place was a complete maze; he’d be lucky if could find his way back to his room. Now where is that damn ice machine? he thought. He paused at the elevators and realized he was on the third floor. He scanned the different floor levels and decided to see if he could find it on the next floor down.
    On the second level he held the elevator door ajar. Peering down the hallway, he saw an illuminated sign that read Ice above a door. Finally!
     
    * * * * *
     
    On level one, two men, immaculate