Chapter 26: The Race to Tunnel B-17
Chapter 26: The Race to Tunnel B-17
The command center erupted into motion.
"Move!"
Dr. Evelyn Brooks' voice cut through the silence with absolute authority.
Investigators grabbed sealed evidence cases.
Police officers checked their radios.
Forensic specialists disconnected portable workstations and secured every recovered drive.
Within less than two minutes, the convoy was moving again.
Anna climbed into Jonathan Vale's SUV beside him.
Neither of them spoke.
Both stared through the windshield as flashing police lights reflected across the city streets.
The radio crackled.
"Unit One approaching the Education Resource Center."
Another voice followed.
"No movement outside."
"Underground entrance remains closed."
Jonathan looked toward the driver.
"Faster."
The driver nodded.
"Yes, sir."
Ten minutes later...
The convoy stopped behind the Education Resource Center.
From the front, the building looked completely ordinary.
Large glass windows.
Government signs.
Security guards.
Nothing suggested that a forgotten tunnel lay hidden beneath it.
But around the back...
The scene was different.
A heavy steel service gate stood partially open.
Fresh tire tracks crossed the concrete.
One police officer knelt beside them.
"They're recent."
"Less than fifteen minutes old."
Dr. Brooks looked toward the underground ramp disappearing beneath the building.
"No lights."
"No cameras visible."
Jonathan studied the entrance carefully.
"They removed the exterior surveillance."
Anna frowned.
"Not removed."
She pointed toward the ceiling.
"Covered."
Everyone looked up.
Small black cloth covers had been stretched over every camera lens.
The lead investigator smiled.
"They wanted us blind."
Anna shook her head.
"If they wanted us blind..."
"...they would have destroyed the cameras."
She walked toward one of them.
Carefully removing the cloth.
The tiny indicator light was still blinking.
She smiled.
"They forgot one thing."
The detective stepped closer.
"What?"
"Cameras record even when people can't see them."
The forensic technician immediately connected a portable monitor.
Video replay began.
Three black SUVs entered exactly twenty-two minutes earlier.
Eight people stepped out.
All wore identical dark jackets.
Caps.
Face masks.
No identifying features.
But Anna noticed something unusual.
"Pause."
The technician froze the frame.
One person carried nothing.
Another pushed a metal equipment case.
Another held a flashlight.
Then Anna pointed toward the last individual.
"Zoom in."
The image sharpened.
The person wasn't carrying tools.
They were carrying...
An old leather notebook.
Jonathan immediately recognized it.
"The same model..."
He looked toward Anna.
"...as the notebook from the hidden office."
The investigators exchanged glances.
Someone inside that group possessed original records.
Dr. Brooks turned toward the tactical officers.
"We're going underground."
The officers nodded.
Weapons remained holstered.
Flashlights came out instead.
The concrete ramp descended sharply.
Cold air drifted upward.
Every footstep echoed through the narrow passage.
The deeper they walked...
The quieter everything became.
Finally...
They reached the steel door shown in the construction photographs.
Above it, barely visible beneath years of dust...
The faded letters remained.
B-17
Anna reached out and gently brushed away more dust.
Another inscription appeared beneath the number.
Archive Division
Jonathan frowned.
"Archive?"
The lead engineer examined the door.
"This wasn't built as a maintenance tunnel."
He tapped the thick steel.
"This is a vault."
Another officer tested the handle.
Locked.
Electronic.
No visible keypad.
The forensic engineer searched along the wall.
"There has to be another access method."
Anna quietly looked around.
Unlike everyone else, she ignored the door.
She studied the floor.
The ceiling.
The concrete walls.
Then she stopped.
"There."
She pointed toward an old brass plaque almost hidden behind a rusted pipe.
It looked decorative.
Meaningless.
Until she noticed faint scratches around its edges.
Someone had touched it many times.
Jonathan smiled.
"What do you think?"
Anna carefully pressed the left corner.
Nothing happened.
She pressed the right.
Still nothing.
Then she remembered the hidden bookshelf back at the school.
"Sometimes..."
she whispered,
"...the obvious answer is the wrong one."
Instead of pressing...
She rotated the plaque clockwise.
Click.
A deep mechanical sound echoed through the tunnel.
Everyone instinctively stepped back.
The massive steel door slowly unlocked.
Hydraulic seals hissed.
Dust drifted into the air.
The vault door opened just enough to reveal complete darkness inside.
No one entered immediately.
The air felt strangely cool.
Almost preserved.
The lead tactical officer shined his flashlight into the opening.
Rows.
Hundreds of rows.
Metal shelving stretched farther than the beam could reach.
Boxes.
Cabinets.
Computers.
It wasn't a tunnel.
It was an underground archive.
Jonathan quietly whispered,
"My God..."
Dr. Brooks stepped beside him.
"This is much larger than the hidden office."
The tactical team entered first.
"Clear left."
"Clear right."
"No visible suspects."
The investigators followed.
Anna was the last to step inside.
Her flashlight swept slowly across the room.
Most shelves were full.
Unlike the empty district vault.
Here...
The records were still present.
Thousands of them.
Every shelf carried a school name.
Every cabinet carried a district number.
Every box represented someone's forgotten story.
Mrs. Foster felt tears welling in her eyes.
"These are the original records..."
The lead investigator opened one box.
Inside were handwritten complaints.
Photographs.
Medical reports.
Letters from parents.
None of them had ever reached the official archive.
Jonathan looked around in disbelief.
"They didn't destroy the truth."
Anna nodded slowly.
"They hid it."
Just then...
One of the forensic analysts called from the far end of the underground archive.
"Superintendent..."
His voice sounded shaken.
"I think..."
He swallowed hard.
"...you need to see this."
Everyone hurried toward him.
At the very back of the underground archive stood a large reinforced glass wall.
Behind the glass...
Instead of more documents...
There was another room.
A brightly lit operations center.
Dozens of computer monitors were still powered on.
Coffee cups were still warm.
Chairs had been pushed back in a hurry.
Whoever had been working there...
Had left only minutes before the investigators arrived.
And in the center of the largest monitor, one message remained glowing in white letters against a black screen.
May you like
WELCOME, ANNA.
WE'VE BEEN EXPECTING YOU.
