by Vicki Hinze
“You’re cute.”
“You, too, Crowe. Now get off my radio.” Picking up her two-way, she pressed the button. “Will, you hearing me?”
“Loud and clear.”
“Have the locals guard the vans and the supply truck. Position it right outside the main entrance, Level One, Door One. And make sure there’s sufficient medical staff ready to converge on any area that needs assistance quickly.”
“Got it.”
Maggie moved to Center Court and checked in with Kate, then with Amanda and Mark. All three claimed their sectors were fine, and appearances bore that out.
Maggie moved on, around the pit to the food court. The Olympians were having a great time, building a snowman four feet in diameter. The Special Forces members were wary and watchful, but they hadn’t reported the first anomaly, much less anything ranking abnormal.
Maggie wished she could agree. She tried and tried and still couldn’t peg specifics, but God, she knew something was seriously wrong on the virus. She sensed it, felt it, could almost smell it. She couldn’t yet identify the exact challenge, but it was there.
Digging in her fanny pack for another mint, she pulled out the valve she’d found in the elevator. The two owners of the company handling the Winter Wonderland, Harry and Phil Jensen, were down in the pit in the thick of things. Harry saw her and waved. Phil noticed, and nodded her way.
She nodded back, fingering the valve, and a sharp, stabbing warning went off inside her head.
“Maggie?” Donald Freeman paged her on the two-way.
“Go ahead, Donald.”
He sounded skeptical and disbelieving. “Did you cut Mr. Barone loose?”
“Why?”
“He’s up here on Level Three, cruising. Marty is with me and he says Barone just tried the code to get into the short-stack, but he couldn’t open it.”
Level Three was never crowded. Clearing the shoppers wouldn’t be difficult. Maggie weighed all her options and decided that was safest. “Secure all the shoppers on Three inside the stores, Donald. Tell employers not to let anyone out. Say there’s a felon in the thoroughfare about to be arrested, and they’ll be able to leave just as soon as authorities grab him. Keep them in the back of the stores, as far away from the thoroughfares as possible. Be as discreet as you can, so Barone stays unaware,” Maggie said. “Do it now, and let me know when you’re done.” She turned her attention to Darcy. “I need two SWAT teams prepositioned on Level Two. Have them use the secret elevator.”
“Issuing the order now.”
Minutes later Maggie was still trying to get to an escalator or staircase that didn’t have a mile-long line, when Donald radioed back. “Maggie.”
“Yes?”
“Level Three is secure.”
“Barone is still up there, correct?”
“Yes, ma’am. He’s walking the thoroughfares.”
“If he tries to leave the floor, you and Marty work together to keep him up there. Backup is coming to take him down.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Exercise caution.” If he was a double and not Barone, he was definitely more dangerous. “He could be armed.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Darcy, have the SWAT teams move in.”
“SWAT teams are ascending from Level Two.”
Less than two minutes later Will radioed Maggie. “Dr. Crowe hasn’t answered a page, Maggie.” Worry riddled his voice. “His company truck driver wants his personal authorization to allow medical staff to guard the antidote vials in his truck. Otherwise, he’s not letting anyone get close.”
Justin should have reported back to her by now. Fearful, she headed for Exit Six. “I’m checking on him now, Will.”
“Shots fired on Level Three,” Darcy reported. “Repeat. Shots fired on Level Three.”
A breathless minute passed. Stairs, escalator and elevators were jammed. No way could Maggie get up there in time to help.
Another minute, then Darcy added, “Two men down. Daniel Barone has been apprehended and is in custody.”
“Who’s down, Darcy?” Maggie wound through the crowd toward the Exit Six door.
“Freeman and a SWAT team member, Maggie.”
“Donald?” Maggie stopped. She couldn’t breathe. “Is he—”
“Both have minor injuries. They’ll be fine.”
Thank God. She let out a relieved groan, went outside and then turned right. Barone’s BMW was in his parking slot and Justin was sitting in the driver’s seat.
The hair on her neck stood on end. Cautiously, she approached the car. “Justin?” She tapped her nails on the window.
No answer. He didn’t move.
“Oh, no. No, no, no.” She jerked open the door.
Justin tumbled out of the car onto the concrete.
In his fist he held an antidote vial.
Chapter Thirteen
Justin is down,” Maggie transmitted, shaking all over. “Justin is down!”
She squatted beside him on the concrete, searching for injury, pressed her fingertips at his throat. “He has a pulse. Repeat.” Immense relief washed through her. “He has a pulse.”
“Cover for me, Amanda,” Kate shouted, and the vibration in her tone proved she was already running.
“He has a vial of the antidote in his fist.”
“Where are you, Maggie?”
“He was in Daniel Barone’s car. He’s now on the ground beside it,” she said, hearing him groan. Relief flooded through her. “Justin? Justin, talk to me. Who did this to you?”
He was coming around more fully now, blinking, trying to orient himself. “Maggie.” His eyes closed.
Kate burst through the door and ran over to them, her chest heaving, her blond curls tossing in the wind. She collapsed on the concrete beside Maggie. “You okay?”
She was shaking all over. “Fine.” Maggie scooted in, cupped his face in her hands. “Justin? Come on, Justin, you look at me right now. You’re scaring me.” Tears burned her eyes, the back of her nose. “Please, God, please don’t scare me like this.”
Justin opened his eyes, lifted a shaky hand to her face. “Shh, it’s okay, Maggie.” He comforted her. “I’m all right.”
“You’re on the flipping concrete barely conscious with a vial in your hand. You were out cold in Barone’s flipping car. Don’t dare tell me it’s okay and you’re all right You are not okay, and it’s not all right.”
“I am...now,” he insisted. “You’re here now.”
A tear leaked out and dropped to Maggie’s cheek. “As soon as I know you’re okay, I’m going to kick your tail for this. Who did you let get the drop on you?”
“Linda,” he said, his throat scratchy. “It was Linda Diel.” Maggie looked over at Kate and she nodded, then stepped away. “Darcy, did you get that?”
She took a second to respond. “Yeah. Security staff is on it.”
Maggie barked out the order. “Activate twelve of the Special Forces and two additional SWAT teams. Have them sweep the facility.”
“Got it,” Darcy said. “Does Justin need an ambulance?”
“God, I hope not,” Kate said on a groan. “But Maggie might. She’s the color of an ice cube.”
“I’m fine.”
“Does Justin need an ambulance?” Kate repeated Darcy’s question.
Maggie lifted a finger, signaling Kate to wait. “Justin, other than your pride, what’s hurt?”
“Nothing. She shoved something over my face, strong chemical smell, probably chloroform. But other than a headache, the effects are gone now.”
“We should get you checked out,” Maggie said. “And when you’re okay and this is over, I’m putting you in training.”
“Getting checked is a waste of time and money, but I’ll take that training. This proves I’ve been in the lab too much.” He sniffed. “My head’s clearing. If you’ll let go of me, I think I can even get up.”
Maggie scooted back, but kept a hand on his arm. She couldn’t
bear to break contact just yet. Logically she understood it. From his first look at her, Justin had taken her into his heart. She’d fought it, not wanting to be attracted to him, but she just was, and she cared about him. That was it, and, while she’d have to work on accepting it, obviously what she felt wasn’t going to go away.
Darcy asked again. “Does he need medical attention?”
“Probably.” Maggie exaggerated a sigh. “But he’s too pigheaded to get it. I’m watching him.”
And Maggie would be even more pigheaded, if she felt the need—and no doubt, she would win.
“Justin?” Maggie asked. “Did you see where Linda went?”
“No, I didn’t. Is the car still full of antidote vials?”
“Just the one vial that was in your hand.”
He grunted and groaned and got to his feet. Maggie clung to him. “You okay?”
“I’m fine, Maggie.” He patted her hand on this arm and his eyes softened. “There were hundreds of vials in the car, in Krane’s shopping bags.”
“Darcy, put out an APB on Linda Diel.” Maggie radioed Will. “What kind of car does Linda drive?”
Will and Justin answered simultaneously. “A 2005 green Honda Pilot.” Justin added, “Battery for it’s in Will’s SUV.”
“Okay,” Maggie said. “Darcy, run the car down.”
“Dispatching the orders now, Maggie,” Darcy said.
“Kate, thanks for the backup. I’ll be with Justin until I’m sure he’s totally stable.” It was just as well that Maggie assume the duty officially. She wasn’t leaving him until the fear in her for him died, and gauging by her stomach knots and shaking hands, that could take a while.
If it were anyone else reacting this way, it’d be quite touching. But it wasn’t. It was about her, and because it was, stark terror tightened the knots.
Maggie and Justin walked back into the building and she checked her watch. Fifteen minutes. Linda had to be GRID’s trigger. Kunz’s point person. And, it scared Maggie to death to admit it, but the odds were high she’d already released the virus. Probably right after putting Justin’s lights out. “Justin, we need to get to Center Court to see if anyone there is exhibiting symptoms.”
That little window. It had to be significant. Had to be. “Are you really okay?” she asked him.
“I am. Honest.” His eyes shown warmth, appreciation. “Thanks for being there for me, Maggie.”
“It looks like that’s the way it’s going to be, doesn’t it?”
“It does.”
“God help us both,” Maggie muttered.
Justin smiled.
“I need to go up to Three. You watch for symptoms here.”
He nodded.
Maggie headed that way and switched to a private frequency. “Guys?”
Kate, Amanda, Mark and Darcy all responded.
“Keep an eye on Justin for me. He’s watching for symptoms in Center Court. If you see anything, any sign that he’s unwell, yell.”
“We will,” Kate answered for the group, and for once, without sarcasm in her voice.
Certain he was covered, Maggie took the private elevator up to Level Three, then walked to the short-stack’s door. Forensics was done and the door had been locked, sealed and coded. But was the short-stack empty? Maggie keyed in the code.
Nothing happened.
“Darcy, did someone change the code on the short-stack door?”
“I did. After Lester Pinnella and his forensics team left. What’s going on up there?”
“Maybe, nothing. But—” The warning niggle hit Maggie again. “I need to get inside to check it out.”
“Go to the secure frequency.”
Maggie flipped over to it and then waited.
“Three, three, three, nine, seven, eight, three, one.” Darcy relayed the new sequence to Maggie.
“Thanks.” Maggie keyed in the new code. “Have we heard anything from the FBI on our outsiders?” The first female and male shoppers who’d left empty bags in the mall.
“Report’s just in. The men all boarded a plane about ten minutes ago for New York. They’re slated to fly on to Jordan. We don’t have enough to detain them. The woman is still in her hotel room watching movies.”
They’d satisfied their assignments. Kunz was running true to form, compartmentalizing. “Justin?” Maggie asked for an update on his observations. “Anything noteworthy?”
“No, Maggie. I’m not seeing any of the symptoms that would signal DR-27 exposure.”
She breathed a little easier and stepped inside the short-stack, wondering how many on the security staff had been compromised and were on Kunz’s payroll. Barone had been doubled, that was a fact. With both of the men in custody, Intel and Special Investigations officers, aided by DNA and Dr. Joan Foster, would determine who was real and who was a double. She’d do her thing with both the Barones, and the truth about their identities would be revealed.
“Maggie! Get down to Level One—now!”
“What’s going on, Darcy?”
“Yellow jackets with shopping bags. They’re swarming every entrance. Dozens and dozens of them.”
A two-way alert came through. “Abandoned shopping bag, Level Two, Station One.”
“I’ve got one on Three at Station Four.”
“Level Two, Station Five. Two abandoned bags.”
“Darcy, sound the bomb alert. I want this building emptied—now!”
Sirens wailed and the public address system boomed, drowning out the Christmas music that had been playing nonstop since opening. “Please exit the mall immediately. Use the nearest stairs to exit the mall immediately. Do not use the elevators. Repeat. Please exit the mall immediately. Use the nearest stairs. Do not use the elevators. Repeat...” Pandemonium erupted. People screamed and shoved and ran, pouring into the thoroughfares, emptying out the stores, storming down the staircases.
“Maggie,” Justin said. “Something is happening at the pit. The ice machine has shut down. Phil and Harry are freaking out. They didn’t do it and can’t get it up and running again.”
“Code Red, Priority One,” Darcy said. “Level One, Kid’s Row. Code Red, Priority One.”
There was a fire on the main floor. Maggie looked for a way down from Level Three that wouldn’t take her forever. At the glass-wall banister, she glanced down onto Center Court, shifting to see past the giant plastic flags that read Winter Wonderland, Happy Holidays and North Pole.
The sprinkler heads caught her eye, and what Justin had said in the auditorium when meeting with the store owners about water activating the virus rushed through Maggie’s mind. She looked at the snow. Fire triggered the sprinklers and water melted snow. The snow. The snow was Kunz’s delivery system!
And if that snow melted... “Oh, God!”
She pushed away from the banister. “Darcy, Will, lock down the sprinklers,” Maggie shouted, shoving her way between, around people, trying to get down there. “Do not allow the sprinklers to come on. No exceptions!”
“Barone and I have the only keys to lock them down, Maggie,” Will said, then immediately followed up with, “Oh, no. It’s gone. My key is gone off my key ring.” The clothesline incident replayed in Maggie’s head. The key could have been swiped from him then. It would explain why the incident occurred. Until now, there’d been no discernable reason.
One bump at a time. She inhaled a sharp breath, blew it out slowly. Think, Maggie. Think.
Secret room. Window. Fire hose. Water.
Window above the pit.
“Oh, God.” The pieces fell into place. “Justin. Justin, the snow!” Maggie shouted. “It’s the snow!”
“What? Sorry, Maggie. It’s nuts down here. I can’t hear you.”
“The DR-27 is in the snow!” She gasped. “Darcy, Justin, keep the water off the snow!”
A tall man bumped into Maggie’s arm. She darted a look up at him and beyond him saw the little window—and a face.
Linda Diel.
Chapter Fou
rteen
Maggie pulled her .38 from her fanny pack, then punched in the security code on the short-stack door.
A knot formed in her throat. She could hardly breathe around it. She should get Donald Freeman to act as backup before going in—he’d returned to work after sustaining that minor injury in capturing the second Barone—but there just wasn’t time.
Maggie eased the door open. It was pitch-dark inside. Feeling beside the door for a switch, she turned on the lights.
Something sizzled, the lights flashed, blowing out the bulbs. Glass shattered and sprayed on the concrete, then darkness again swallowed everything in sight. Her heart racing, Maggie reached for her flashlight. “Darcy?”
No response.
“Darcy, if you can hear me, take over as Primary. I’m in the short-stack. Going in after Linda Diel. I saw her from the stairs through the little window. She’s got to be going for the fire hose to wet the snow. She’s got to be Kunz’s inside contact—or at least his primary one, if Barone is on his payroll, too. I’m convinced she’s the trigger. Water on the snow. That’s all it’s going to take to launch the DR-27 attack for Kunz’s capabilities demonstration.”
In a cold sweat, Maggie dragged in a shuddery breath. “Darcy? Darcy, can you hear me? Can anyone hear me?” She waited, but no one responded.
Maggie paused and squeezed her eyes shut. She should wait for backup, but that could give Linda the precious time she needed to wet the snow. Maggie had to go it alone. The costs were too high to risk going back.
Keeping her back flush to the wall, she edged her way through the inky darkness, circling the short-stack perimeter until her shoulder bumped the wall near the outer edge of the dome. “Darcy, please get everyone out of this place,” she whispered, hoping to be heard. “Please get the pit emptied. Please answer me.”
But Darcy didn’t answer.
And worse, no transmissions were feeding in through the satellite system or the two-way. Why, Maggie couldn’t be sure, but it was as if someone had activated a communications-jamming device. Probably Linda. Kunz sure could have provided her with one.