by Jeramy Gates
“Nothing,” she said. “Carver, you having any luck?”
“Negative. I’m gonna-” he trailed off. Valkyrie heard a second voice and realized that someone else had recognized him. Carver’s acquaintance started up a conversation. His voice buzzed in her ear, and Valkyrie did her best to tune it out as she replaced the ceiling tile and left the room.
A quick search of the women’s restroom revealed nothing. When she came out, Val found Carver waiting for her. “No?” she said.
He gave a shake of his head. “No, and I had to get out of there. People give me a headache.”
“Could be the lack of depth perception,” Matt said helpfully.
“It’s not,” Carver snapped. He took Valkyrie by the arm and started walking, moving deeper into the hotel. “Keep moving before somebody else recognizes me. I’d rather do another tour in the desert than spend five more minutes making small talk.”
“You really have a problem, you know that?” said Val.
“I was doing just fine until this party thing came up.”
Back in the lobby, they paused in front of the elevators, waiting for one to open. The one to their right chimed, and they waited patiently. As the door slid open, they found themselves face-to-face with a middle-aged Hispanic man in a dark blue suit. Carver stiffened ever so slightly. Val knew why. The man was a cop. Not just any cop. This was Special Agent Roger Castillo, the man who had arrested her just a week ago; the man whose custody she had escaped by stealing his car.
Castillo saw Carver first, and he did a double take as he noticed the vet’s eye patch. Carver nodded, and Castillo nodded back. Then, as he started to step out of the elevator, his gaze slid over to Valkyrie. He froze mid-step, eyes narrowing as a look of recognition swept across his features. “You!”
The agent reached for his gun, and Carver pounced. Carver caught Castillo by the arm while simultaneously tackling him with his full weight. The two crashed into the elevator, slamming against the back wall. Castillo took the brunt of the blow. It dazed him, but he managed to draw his pistol and fire a shot into the ceiling before Carver slammed the agent’s hand back against the stainless-steel handrail.
Castillo cried out as the gun slipped from his grip. Carver took advantage of the distraction by delivering a forearm blow to the agent’s face. Castillo’s head slammed back against the wall, blood trickling from his nose, eyes blinking. Carver stepped back far enough to deliver a crushing right hook. Castillo sank to his knees.
Carver stood over the agent’s limp form as the elevator door closed. He glared at Valkyrie. “Who is that?” he said.
Val bit her lower lip. “That’s Special Agent Roger Castillo.”
“FBI? What is he doing here?”
“You tell me.”
“I thought you said the feds weren’t tracking the Collector.”
“They haven’t been, as far as I know. He must be here for me.”
“How could he know you’d be here?”
Val gave a shrug of her shoulders. “He couldn’t be tracking me. I dumped his car, and I have a new phone. Matt?”
“Not a clue,” Matt said through their coms. “Maybe it’s just a coincidence. He could have followed the same breadcrumbs that led us here.”
Carver and Val stared at each other a moment. “What now?” Carver said.
“We still have to find that bomb.”
“We can’t just leave him in the elevator. And we can’t risk opening these doors, either.”
Matt chimed in. “I think I can help. Hold the button to keep the door closed.”
“I already am,” said Valkyrie.
“Good, keep holding that button and then push and hold the roof button at the same time. That should keep the elevator from stopping at any other floors. Just don’t let go until you get to the top of the building.”
“If this works, I’m gonna buy you a beer,” Carver said.
“Just be ready, in case it doesn’t,” Val said. She hit the button. The switch panel made a buzzing sound, and the elevator began to rise. Val stared at the panel over the door as they passed the second and then third floor.
“It seems to be working,” she said. “What are we going to do about Castillo?”
Carver grunted. “I vote we just tie him up and leave him on the roof.”
“Will he be safe?”
“I don’t see why not. He’ll come to his senses in a few minutes. It’s not like he’s going to freeze to death.”
“All right,” she said. “Hurry up, we’re almost there.”
Carver went to work. Val marveled at the speed and efficiency with which he bound their captive. She watched in morbid fascination as Carver ripped off the agent’s shoes and used the laces to bind Castillo’s wrists behind his back. Then, he removed Castillo’s necktie and used it as a gag. By the time the elevator door opened, Castillo was securely restrained using his own clothing.
Carver dragged the unconscious FBI agent out onto the graveled rooftop. He leaned Castillo up against the wall. The agent’s eyelids were fluttering already, but Carver paid him no mind. He stepped back into the elevator, pulled the outer door shut, and locked it from the inside.
“You’re sure he’ll be safe?” Val said as the elevator began its descent.
“As safe as any of us,” Carver said. “If we don’t find that bomb, it won’t really matter, will it?”
Val couldn’t argue with his logic. Still, she found herself wishing she’d had the chance to interrogate the agent. How had he followed her here? Somehow, he’d made the connection between her and Blackstar Fusion. Or was it the Collector he was after? Did Agent Castillo know who Lester Hurt really was? She wished she had some clue as to how Castillo had found her.
The elevator door opened on the second floor. They exited, and hurried down the hall to the area directly over the gathering. “The two suites on the right,” Carver said. “This is the only place we haven’t checked.”
Valkyrie noted that they each had Do Not Disturb signs hanging from the door handles. “Perfect,” she said. “What if they’re occupied?”
“Knock first. If no one answers, let yourself in.”
“And if someone does answer?”
He gave a shrug. “You have a gun. Improvise. Now, you take the door on the right, I’ll take the left.”
Val knocked and then waited a few seconds. When no answer came, she let out a relieved sigh and produced her lock picks. A few yards down, Carver knocked on the second door. He counted out ten seconds and then kicked it in. There was a loud crash! as the heavy wooden door slammed into the wall behind it. Val shot Carver a dirty look.
“We’re in a hurry,” he said. “I, for one, don’t plan on blowing up today.”
Val finished picking her lock and stepped into the first room. It was a large suite, with a kitchen off to the right, a living room area directly ahead, and a bedroom off to the side. The living room curtains opened onto a balcony overlooking the bay. She scanned the room and found nothing out of place. The room didn’t even look like it had been used.
She heard a clicking sound off to her left and realized that Carver was trying to come through the door from the adjoining room. She unlocked it, and Carver twisted his shoulders enough to step through the narrow doorway. He scanned the room and then gave her a strange look, his one eye glinting in the shadowy room.
“Well?” she said.
“You’re not going to believe this.”
Chapter 18
“What is it?” Val heard Matt say through the com, and then, after not getting any response: “What’s going on!”
Val ignored him as she followed Carver into the next suite. The vet’s broad shoulders blocked her view at first, and when he turned aside, she caught her breath. To their right, a sliding door opened onto a wide balcony. At each end of the door she saw a series of explosive devices lined up on the floor. They stretched the entire length of the outer wall, seemingly placed at strategic structural points. Wires connected
each device to the next in a sort of daisy chain.
“Matt,” she said breathlessly. “We found it.”
Then she saw the body. Val instinctively reached for her gun. The scene looked eerily similar to the death of the Informant. Blood had pooled in a black circle on the carpet around the victim. His bonds were still in place. She did not recognize him. She took a step closer, and only then realized she had drawn her firearm. She holstered it and shot Carver a glance as she stood leaning on her cane.
“Who is that?” she said.
“Raldich,” Carver said, flipping through the victim’s wallet. “Albert F. Raldich.”
Valkyrie circled the victim, studying his wounds. Raldich was dressed in underwear, apparently having been disturbed during the night. Scores of deep cuts marred his entire body. Several fingers and toes were missing. No, not missing, Val realized. They were neatly stacked on the floor next to him.
Carver handed her the man’s wallet. “He has cash in there,” he said. “And business cards.”
Valkyrie pulled out one of the business cards and scanned it, a deep frown creasing her features. She looked up, locking gazes with Carver. “Body armor?”
“Yep. How much you want to bet he’s here for the conference?”
“I wonder if Lester Hurt knew him.”
“Hello!” Matt practically shouted in her ear. “WHAT IS GOING ON?”
Val took a moment to explain the situation. “It’s pretty bad,” she added, staring at the digits piled on the floor.
“So this is what Hurt -the Collector- does?” Carver said.
“I guess so.”
He glanced at her. “That’s a strange answer.”
“It’s just that… he left the eyes.”
“The eyes?” Matt said in her ear. “He never does that. What about the tongue?”
Carver pried the man’s jaw open. “Still there. I take it that’s unusual?”
“He always takes a trophy,” said Matt. “Usually, the eyes or the tongue, sometimes both.”
“Hear no evil, see no evil,” Val whispered.
“What?” said Carver.
“Raldich wasn’t on the Collector’s list... That must be what this means. He took body parts from the other victims to send a message. He was making a point about what they had done to him, and about the way they had covered it up. See no evil, hear no evil. They had turned a blind eye, and he was out for revenge. But this man wasn’t involved in any of that.”
“Then what happened here?”
“This poor fellow must have been renting the room. Lester Hurt simply needed it, so he killed him.”
“And tortured him like this?” Carver said. “What for? What could that possibly prove?”
“He enjoys it,” Val said distastefully. “Nothing he does is necessary.”
“What about the bomb?” Matt said. “What does it look like? Do you see a timer?”
“Negative,” said Carver. “And it’s not just one: it looks like he’s placed bombs at all the structural points on this wall. I don’t know why he bothered. With this much plastic, he could kill everybody in this wing of the hotel. Knocking the upper floors down is just redundant.”
Val stepped closer, examining one of the devices. The clear plastic housing gave her an unobstructed view of the interior components. She saw a small circuit board that was connected to wires of various colors. There was a brick-sized block of what appeared to be clay of a burnt orange color, wrapped in translucent plastic. Two wires -a red one and a blue one- led to a small metal tube partially embedded into the clay.
“It’s Semtex,” Carver said, sensing her question. “It’s similar to C-4. That metal cylinder you see is a blasting cap. If an electric current hits it, it will detonate the bomb. I’m guessing from the looks of this setup that when one bomb goes off, they all do.”
“If there aren’t any timers, there must be a radio receiver,” Matt said. “Look around, try to find something that looks like an antenna.”
“What sort of antenna?” said Valkyrie.
“I don’t know… it could be a length of exposed copper wire or a metal rod. It could be very small, like the antenna inside a cell phone.”
“Here,” Carver said. He pointed to a small rectangular device inside one of the casings. It was about an inch long, and wrapped in copper wire. Val studied it for a moment and then glanced at the other bombs.
“They all have them,” she said. “Every bomb has its own antenna.”
“Oh, boy,” said Matt. “That means each device has a receiver. It’s a redundant triggering system. You’ll have to disable each one.”
“What about the wires that connect the bombs?”
“Don’t touch them. Not until I have a better idea what we’re up against.”
“What if we just unplug the antennas?” said Valkyrie. “If the bomb can’t get a signal, it won’t go off, right?”
“I wouldn’t do that,” said Matt. “It’s possible that there’s a circuit-break detector.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning the bomb might know you unplugged the antenna, and set itself off. Same thing with the batteries. Whatever you do, do NOT disconnect any of the batteries.”
“Great. So what do we do?”
“We need to find a way to jam the radio signal. Are there any electronics in the room?”
“Sure,” said Carver. “There’s a TV right here.”
“Flat screen?”
“Of course.”
“That won’t work. How about a microwave?”
“Yeah, in the kitchen. But it’s probably bolted to the wall.”
“Wait,” said Val. “Why can’t we just remove the blasting caps?”
They stared at each other. Matt said, “You know, that just might work. You’d have to be very careful, though.”
“Why?”
“Because any electricity through those wires, even a static discharge, could set off the bomb.”
“You’re kidding,” Val said. “You mean like a hairbrush spark?”
“Yep, even a spark that small, and it goes boom!”
“And if one goes boom, they all do,” Carver said grimly.
Val scanned the room. “Matt, it’s wall-to-wall carpet in here.”
“Don’t touch anything!”
“I won’t.”
“You need to find a way to ground yourselves,” Matt said. “And hurry.”
“How are we supposed to ground ourselves?” said Carver. “I didn’t bring a lightning rod with me.”
“You said there’s a kitchen?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Find a pitcher, or a big pan. Fill it with water and dump it on the carpet. Not just a little… I mean saturate it. The water will ground you to the building’s concrete and steel structure.”
Val found a soup pot and rushed to fill it with tap water. She handed it off to Carver. While he went to dump the water on the carpet, she filled a pitcher from the pantry, and then a flower vase. Working together in this manner, they turned the entire living room into a swamp in just a few minutes.
“That should do it,” Carver said. “What now?”
At Matt’s urging, they took their shoes off before proceeding. Val cringed as she felt the cold, slimy water seeping between her toes. With every step, the carpet sank into the padding and the water puddled up around her feet. “You know, I might have used hot water if you’d told me I’d be standing barefoot in it,” she said.
“Please hurry,” was Matt’s only response.
Val knelt before the bomb in the inside corner. Carver took the next one over. Carefully, they opened the plastic lids and reached inside.
“So we just pull the blasting caps?” she said, glancing at him.
Carver gave her a nod. “Very slowly,” he said. “You don’t want the friction to generate any heat.”
She frowned. “Heat’s a problem, too?”
“Only if it changes too fast. One degree of difference, and-” he
made a motion with his fingers, emulating a big kaboom!
“Wonderful.”
Carver grinned. “Actually, this stuff is quite stable. Comparatively speaking, anyway.”
“Compared to what? Nitroglycerine?”
He laughed. “Yeah.”
Val let out a long sigh. Gathering her courage, she pinched the end of the blasting cap between her fingers and began to pull. The cap resisted movement, the plastic clinging to it like an adhesive. She squeezed a little harder, tightening her grip, and-
A cell phone rang out, breaking the silence. The sound nearly stopped her heart. Her mind recognized the ringing noise, and she knew the trigger had been activated. She winced, bracing herself for the explosion that would vaporize her in an instant.
Chapter 19
Carver pulled out his cell phone and tapped the screen. “Sorry,” he said. Valkyrie glared at him.
“You almost gave me a heart attack! Who’s calling?”
Carver frowned as he stared down at his phone. “It’s not a call. It’s a text from my friend at the state department.”
“Who?”
Carver gave a shake of his head. He finished reading, and then looked up. “After our conversation last night, I sent him a message asking him to look into Lester Hurt.”
“Oh? And did he find anything?”
Carver tucked his phone back into his pocket. “Yeah. Hurt wasn’t recruited from the CIA by Blackstar. He was fired.”
“What? The CIA fired him? Why?”
“Insubordination and misuse of agency resources. Sounds like he was a double agent, even back then.”
Val was appalled. “You’re saying Blackstar hired Lester Hurt even though he was a known traitor who had been fired by the CIA?”
“That pretty much sums it up. Are you surprised?”
“No,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Not anymore.”
She turned her attention back to the bomb. Valkyrie tugged on the end of the blasting cap, but the clay-like explosive that encased the metal sucked onto it, resisting movement. She shifted, readjusting her grip, and gave it another pull. A sense of relief washed over her as the cap began to move. Then something happened. The material caught, causing her fingers to slip on the smooth metal casing. She indistinctively tightened her grip, but found herself pulling on the wire.