Going Down (Nightmares Prequel)

Part 15

Michael followed him in, sidling past the sink and kitchenette with kettle, to where the room widened to allow space for a desk and a bank of monitors. Onscreen was live video that looked very familiar. Michael squinted at one that clearly showed a lift, but there were no women in low-cut tops in that he could see, so he turned his attention back to the security guard.

"Right, so what was it you wanted to know?" the guard asked, waving Michael toward a seat as he took the one before the monitors, swivelling so he wasn't facing them

"I wanted to know what you remember about events in this building on the 28th February this year, and whether you recognise any of these people from that day," Michael answered patiently, his eyes drawn back to the lift camera again. It looked like the Hell Corporation girls were going out for a ladies' lunch. Some of them were taking their jackets off…

The security guard started to laugh. Michael tore his eyes away from the screens once more. "I was in Bali in February and March. That was when we got that idiot from some agency. The one who almost set fire to the building, turned the cameras off, trapped people in a lift and broke the air conditioning…"

"He did what?" Michael now had eyes for no one but the elderly security guard. He even forgot about the boobs on the screen behind him.

The laughter ended in a cough from his covered mouth. "Let me see…we have the incident report he filed here. I can give you a copy, if you like." He hoisted himself to his feet, paper in hand, and staggered stiffly to the fax machine in the corner. He printed a copy, handing it to Michael with shaking hands.

Michael didn't look at the paper as he tucked it into his folder beneath the photos. He spread the photos across the desk and asked again. "Recognise anyone?"

The guard's nod and smile was for Mel. "That's Mel, the sweet angel from the Hell Corporation. She'll help you with your investigation as much as she can, because she's lovely like that. But she won't be the one you're after. I think you want this idiot." He flicked his fingers at the picture of the young security guard. "He tried to sabotage my building. It wouldn't take much for him to be a terrorist."

"Do you have any details on the security guard or where you hired him from?" Michael asked, keeping his fingers crossed but not expecting much.

The guard grinned. "Of course. It's on the bottom of the report I gave you. His name and who he worked for."

Michael's eyes followed the man's finger down to the bottom of the page. The signature was almost indecipherable, but the security agency was clear. He felt like his lunch hit his shoes, along with his jaw. "Are you sure that's who he worked for?" he asked, swallowing.

"Yep, ASIO," he said, nodding. "Strange name for a security organisation."

One of ours? One of our operatives was here as a security guard? What the hell's going on?

"Yeah…yeah," Michael repeated, trying to gather his thoughts. A new thought pushed its way to the surface. "Oh…and the name of the electrician who fixed things that day. Can you give me his details?"

The guard's grin broadened. "Best sparky I ever had, the bloke's brilliant. He can fix anything. The company's called Fisher and Son…let me see if I can find his card…" He scrabbled through the dusty cards by the yellowed telephone. "Here it is. Joe Fisher, electrical contractor. He didn't look old enough to have kids, so he must be the son." He laughed.

Michael summoned a smile to cover the swirling in his head. He took down the electrician's details and closed his file of photos and papers. "Thank you for your help…"

"Graeme. Graeme Wilson," Graeme the guard said, stiffly shaking Michael's outstretched hand. "Any more help you need, you know where to find me."

"Yes, I do," Michael replied, his mind on the people he didn't know how or where to find. Back to the office. This is one seriously fucked-up mess and I have no idea how to unravel it.