Sinclair Feldman's Arc

Chapter 7 of 7

Sinclair kept his eyes on the tower beam while Donovan worked the headset. The movement on the water line held for a full minute, then broke off. Donovan logged it and said nothing. Sinclair walked back to the equipment shop where Zelda stood with her arms crossed. "We can guard the door," he told her. "We still don't know what's behind it." She nodded once. "Then get the map." He found Kira at the workbench with her laptop open, files stacked in neat columns on the screen. He told her what Zelda had said. Kira closed the lid halfway. "I know a runner who moves paper out of old Vault-Tec sites. He had a clinic set last month. Rooms nobody built on the public plans." "Price?" Sinclair asked. "Caps and one favor," she said. "He picks the favor later." Sinclair thought about that. Then he said yes. Marcus was in the office with the wall safe open. He counted out a stack without asking what for. "Kira vouches?" he said. "She does." Marcus handed him the caps and closed the safe. "If the favor bites, it bites you first." "Understood," Sinclair said. Marcus locked the dial and turned back to his ledger. They met the trader at the old library at the edge of the wastes. Grey stone, brown timber, vines up the front wall. Kira went in first. The trader sat at a reading table with a folder in front of him, red cross on the cover, water stain across one edge. He did not stand. "Caps on the table," he said. Sinclair set them down. The trader counted twice, slid the folder across, and named his favor. "A name, later. Whoever you find behind the door. I want to know who." Kira looked at Sinclair. Sinclair said, "Agreed." Outside the library, Kira opened the folder on the hood of the truck. Blueprints. Clinic floor, medical wing, and past the wing two rooms the public plans never showed. One long, one square. A pencil line ran from the square room to a shaft that did not match any water line they knew. "Third entrance," Kira said. Sinclair traced it with his thumb. "Or an exit." They drove back before the light went. Sinclair spread the sheets on the crate behind the equipment shop and Zelda leaned over them. She read the way she treated a wound, in order, no skipped step. "That square room sits under the back lot," she said. "Ten feet off our tower." Donovan came up behind them with the meter still in his hand. He looked at the shaft line and swore quietly. Sinclair folded the top sheet and put it under his arm. "We know the shape now," he said. "And we owe a name to a man we've never met." Zelda did not answer. She was already counting what she'd need to open the door.