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head.
    “Alright.  Hey, thanks again Bob,” he said holding up the Danish as he turned and walked back to his post.
    Once everything was unloaded, the crew was escorted into the building by a pair of guards.  Each of the caterers was given a yellow badge that labeled them as visitors and that an escort was required at all times.  They wound their way through the first floor until they reached A-E Drive [6] , which they followed to the 6corridor.  They went inside and walked the E ring to the elevators.  They took the elevators down past the mezzanine level to the basement and pushed their carts along the walkway to the underground Pentagon Auditorium. 
    At the auditorium they began setting up the pastries and the cakes on the tables that were in the reception area.  A young sailor brought over a sign that had large blown-up pictures of a young Navy Ensign and the same man many years later as a full Admiral.  A caption underneath stated that this was a retirement ceremony for Admiral Vince J. Goodwin, Chief of Naval Operations beginning at 1600.  The catering crew worked quickly to get everything set up before the guests started to filter in.
    “We are supposed to take these to the Admiral’s office,” Bob the caterer told two guards holding up a large fruit platter and pointing at a smaller cake. 
    “Alright, you two come with me and Tony will stay here with the rest of the crew.”
    Tony, the other police officer, nodded and stood with his thumbs hooked into his belt watching the crew as they fussed over the pastries, rearranging them so that they looked perfect.  One man even placed a small discreet placard that said the catering was provided by Henderson’s Bakery and Catering Inc. with their phone number and address so the guests could have the bakery’s contact information if they ever needed catering services.
    The guard walking Bob and his partner pushed the button on the elevator to take them upstairs.  As soon as the doors closed the second caterer pulled a syringe from his coat and jabbed it into the officer’s jugular, injecting a dark brown liquid.  Then he grabbed him in a bear hug while he convulsed uncontrollably.  Bob stripped off the white catering jacket quickly revealing a Pentagon Police uniform underneath, complete with an unescorted badge attached to it.  He unhooked the real guard’s belt with the radio and pistol and buckled it around himself while his accomplice still held on to the real police officer.
    The cocktail of drugs that they’d injected into the man was extremely lethal and the guard stopped shuddering after only a few seconds. They muscled him under the cart and used tape hidden underneath to secure the body to the cart so no arms or legs would flop out at an inopportune time.  Then they fluffed up the tablecloth that covered the lower shelf and hid the dead police officer just as the doors opened.  Bob, now attired in a Pentagon Police uniform, and the caterer he was escorting stepped out of the elevator and walked to the nearest bathroom. The caterer went inside while Bob stayed with the cart and thirty seconds later returned from the latrine wearing a similar police uniform and unescorted badge. 
    They wheeled the cart down a hallway to an area under renovation and entered a closed doorway.  It was empty since the company that was installing the wiring failed to show up to work that day.  When the Defense Department contracting office had called the business office, no one had answered the phone since the men from the bakery had killed them that morning.  The two men pulled out shoulder-length plastic gloves, like the kind farmers wore when they artificially inseminated livestock, and put them on.  Then they dug through the cake until they found all ten vials that were hidden between the different layers of the dessert.
    Nine of the vials held multiple different viruses and diseases that they’d spent a decade engineering.  The group’s very first