The Disconnection Alarm on Basement Level Five; Lynn's Nighttime Investigation of Consumables Circulation
Lynn closed his wristwatch and stood up to pick up his dark gray casual coat from the back of his chair.
The cup of leftover coffee on the corner of the table still had a layer of cloudy oil film on it.
The corridor outside the door was empty, and two guards officers on duty were standing at the top of the stairs, quietly checking the night patrol passwords.
Lynn did not bring any guards, nor did he Xiao Zhou to prepare a car.
He pulled out a "Defense Handover Memorandum" bearing the official stamp of the Stability Maintenance Office and tucked it under his arm.
The feeling of weightlessness during the elevator's descent is accompanied by a slight vibration of the steel cables.
To get from the surface command building to the fifth underground level of the Department of Technology, one needs to pass through two explosion-proof gravity shafts.
The indicator light changed from green to dark yellow, finally settling on the Scarlet sign on the fifth basement level.
The stairwell doors slid open to both sides.
The air was filled with a pungent smell of rust-preventive oil mixed with high-pressure Ozone.
The cold fluorescent lights on the corridor ceiling lit up every ten meters, creating a dim light. The acid-resistant and explosion-proof lead bricks on the ground still bore scratches left by dragging heavy objects.
Lynn walked quietly, his leather boots making no extra sound as they clicked against the metal seams.
Turn past the third exhaust branch pipe, and ahead lies the consumables turnover area of Seventh Laboratory.
A row of heavy alloy cabinets embedded in the concrete wall stood in the shadows.
Lynn stopped in front of cabinet number nine, which was marked "L-03 Exclusive Spare Parts".
The physical seal on the cabinet door has been broken.
There were no mechanical cut marks from clamps or shears at the fracture point; instead, there was a layer of charred, molten particles.
It was burned off directly with a miniature hot melt torch.
Lynn crouched down, her gaze falling on the gaps in the explosion-proof floor tiles below the cabinet door.
A very thin layer of oily liquid seeped from the crack, emitting a pungent, bitter almond smell.
This is a military-grade smokeless flame retardant solvent, specifically designed to neutralize sparks and fumes generated during hot-melt operations.
Lynn took a transparent Evidence Bag from the inside pocket of his coat and used the anti-magnetic multi-functional tweezers he carried with him to probe into the crack between the bricks.
Besides bringing out a few drops of oily liquid that hadn't completely evaporated, the tweezers also touched a hard object.
It was a corner of a stiff piece of paper, brittle and curled from being corroded by strong acid.
Lynn took out the fragment and laid it flat under the small cool light in his palm.
The edges of the paper were charred black, and most of the content had been liquefied into a grayish-white pulp by acid. However, below the barcode on the right side, there was still a line of machine-printed dots that had not been completely eroded.
That was the bottom copy of a material disposal and warehousing slip.
Footsteps approached from afar, striking the metal grating rapidly.
"Director Lynn?"
Claire's voice, slightly breathless, came from around the corner.
She was still wearing that oversized white work uniform, her name tag was askew to one side, and her hair was slightly disheveled.
Lynn clasped his hands together, slid the Evidence Bag into his uniform pocket, and slowly stood up.
"Hasn't Secretary Claire handed over her duties this late?"
Claire strode to cabinet number nine, her eyes quickly scanning the broken seal, her face paling slightly.
"Seventh Laboratory is currently conducting pressure monitoring during the later stages of Magic Zeroing, and I'm responsible for inspecting the external circulation pipelines."
She took a breath, her tone quickly reverting to its usual businesslike coldness.
According to the Department of Technology's internal confidentiality regulations, the fifth basement level transit area is a Class B closed control zone. Non-technical personnel must submit a work order to Minister Wanda in advance before entering outside of working hours.
"The work order is here."
Lynn pushed the "Defense Handover Memorandum" under his arm forward half an inch.
Claire did not answer.
"Director, this is a document from the Stability Maintenance Office. The Department of Technology has not yet received a copy of the jointly signed document."
"By the time the copies have gone through the Joint Conference's stamping process, there probably won't even be a trace of the lock left here."
Lynn pointed to the cabinet door behind her.
Claire followed his finger, her gaze narrowing slightly before she looked away.
"This is normal seal wear caused by routine maintenance. The work team is already in the process of resealing it, so there's no need for the Director's Office to worry about it."
"Is a miniature hot melt gun really necessary to repair damaged seals?"
Lynn took a step forward, closing in by half a foot.
According to Article 72, Paragraph 3 of the "Management Committee Logistics Internal Control Rules," anyone who damages the seals on classified spare parts without joint verification and signature by all three parties shall be deemed to have intentionally destroyed war preparedness materials.
Claire instinctively took half a step back, her back pressed against the pipe support next to her.
"Director, this is the Department of Technology, not the logistics office of the Director's Office. The authority to interpret the regulations rests with the Regulations Division."
"The regulations in the Regulations Division department do not cover current violations."
Lynn's voice was calm, yet it weighed heavily on one's chest.
"Five minutes ago, the building's main control system recorded a voltage drop of 0.3 seconds at the security distribution box on the fifth basement level. At the same time, the tamper Probe of this external cabinet went offline."
He took out his portable terminal from his pocket, brought up the hardware alarm interface that was flashing red, and pushed it in front of Claire.
"If you insist that it was a work crew resealing the site, then I will now notify the disciplinary team to retrieve the independent backup logs of the security and power systems on the fifth basement level."
Claire's Adam's apple bobbed slightly.
"A separate log requires two keys to open the electrical distribution box..."
"The key to your shift is in your pocket."
Lynn interrupted her, his gaze falling on the unnaturally drooping edge of the right pocket of her work uniform.
The rigid outline of the metal keychain creates distinct angles against the rough fabric.
The exhaust ducts above the corridor emitted a low rumble, and the airflow poured into the circulation area, causing the cables in the corners to sway slightly.
Claire's fingers, hanging by her sides, tightened, her nails digging deep into her palms.
She knew Lynn's words left no room for negotiation.
As long as the security power log is retrieved on the spot, the timestamp of the power outage in the distribution box will be perfectly matched with the time when the seal was melted.
"Is Director Lynn determined to push things to the extreme?"
Claire spoke in a low voice, her voice slightly strained.
"Take out the key."
Lynn extended his right hand, palm up, his tone completely flat.
"The authority to handle the situation on-site now rests with the Director's Office. If you don't hand it over, the Black Crow Honor Guard from the Stability Maintenance Office will be coming downstairs in two minutes."
Upon hearing the words "Black Crow Honor Guard," Claire's shoulders visibly stiffened.
Once Hela's people get involved, the fifth basement level will be much more complex than simply checking a supplies cabinet.
After a two-second standoff, Claire gritted her teeth and reached into the right pocket of her work clothes.
The heavy brass keychain was pulled out.
Instead of handing it to Lynn, she slammed it heavily on the metal edge of cabinet number nine.
"The cabinet originally contained twelve sets of L-03 exclusive blank card cores."
Claire turned her face away, speaking rapidly.
"The work crew submitted the scrapping application this afternoon, but the minister has not yet signed off on it."
Lynn picked up the keychain, skillfully selected a long-handled key with double rows of teeth, and inserted it into the mechanical lock of cabinet number nine.
"You don't need to report on the whereabouts of the SIM card."
Lynn turned the key, and the mechanical latch popped open inside the cabinet with a muffled click.
"What you should be thinking about now is how to remove your name from the self-inspection form for violations before Special Envoy Special Envoy Thomas from the Internal Affairs Inspection Office arrives."
Claire's face turned ashen. She stood there without saying a word, her lips pressed tightly together.
Lynn opened the heavy explosion-proof cabinet door.
A strong, burnt smell wafted from inside the cabinet.
Using the open cabinet door as cover, Lynn turned to block Claire's view and took out the half of the acid-etched fragment he had just extracted from his pocket.
The faint glow from the edge of a small, cool light swept across the charred fibers of the paper.
Below the least damaged ink stamp in the lower left corner of the fragment, a very faint handwritten signature number is visible in the dim light.
[Handled by: NR-074]
Lynn's eyes darkened slightly.
That was the only agent code Natasha had linked with in S.H.I.E.L.D.. Operations Division and Logistics Department before she was quarantined.