|Date||July the 8th, 1912|
Transcript: Comstock promises there's nothing to be worried about -- but I don't like the smell of things down in Finkton, not one bit. If trouble rears its ugly head in the form of one cantankerous Negress, I've laid in some supplies in the event of a forced evacuation. They're down in what I call my "chamber of panic," near the base of my statue. I've set the code to 8-3-7-1.
Location: On a desk underneath a blackboard showing notes for possible Vigors.