Twist and Turn

by Tim Tigner

The videophone console on the desk was connected to a dedicated laptop that displayed a live, infrared fisheye view of the bunker along with a digital version of the console control panel. While I composed my thoughts, searching for a scenario that wouldn’t provoke an unwanted reaction from the spies, Oz grabbed the mouse, pressed the button and spoke. “We need the women, and only the women, to approach the manual lift.”

  After a second of silence, a torrent of quiet conversation broke out below. While most were leaning into their circles, three began moving slowly through the dark. Two smaller figures appeared to be feeling their way toward the hand-cranked elevator while a larger one approached the camera. He began repeating the same phrase, which became clearer the closer he got. “I wish I knew what was going on. I wish I knew what was going on…” One of the spies was talking to Bruce.

  I had no right to reprimand Oz, despite the fact that he’d given the spies reason to believe that something was amiss. The best move was to roll with it as quickly as possible and hope for the best.

  I ran back to the open bookcase where the manual lift was located. The crank itself was identical to the one below. A handled lever about two-and-a-half feet long that rotated around a shaft which disappeared into the wall. This one, however, was blocked by an iron bar that protruded from a hole in the floor. The placement kept the crank from rotating clockwise while the ratchet prevented counterclockwise motion.

  I pulled the bar from the hole, tossed it aside with a clatter, and began cranking. “How do I know when the elevator reaches the bottom?” I yelled over my shoulder.

  “When the cabin moves into alignment with a doorway, it triggers a mechanical bell both above and below. The bell also tinkles when weight is placed on the floor.”

  I cranked away at the wheel like a caffeinated hamster. I knew that elevators were weighted to offset the mass of the cab plus a typical load, so the gearing wasn’t extreme. I figured it was about four-to-one, meaning that moving the two-and-a-half-foot crank through its five-foot-diameter circle would raise or lower the lift one-fourth of the circumference or about four feet. If that was correct, then fifteen revolutions would move it the required sixty feet.

  The bell in the back of my mind rang about the same time as the one above my head. It was on the other side of the wall—a concession to the camouflage I assumed—but easy enough to hear.

  “What’s happening?” I called back to Oz, who was still standing before the screen.

  “The women have opened the door and … both are now inside … and the door is closed.” The bell tinkled again as he spoke.

  I began turning the crank but it quickly caught. I put on more pressure, but that didn’t help. “The elevator won’t budge. They’re too heavy.”

  “Try harder,” Oz said.

  “It’s not a strength issue. The elevator locks if it’s over the limit.”

  “They appear to have figured that out. One of the women just exited.”

  I put pressure on the crank and this time it moved. As I sweated my way through fifteen fast and furious revolutions with the ratchet rattling away like a scared snake, I couldn’t help hoping that Katya was the one who remained aboard.

  Oz walked over to join me, leaving our captives unattended.

  “Wait for the bell. Meanwhile, please stand guard.”

  Oz disappeared but only momentarily. “Please, Oz. Let’s not blow this at the ninety-yard line.”

  “No worries. I just placed a pair of those earphones on his head.”

  Why hadn’t I thought of that? Probably because I’d wanted him awake for interrogation. “Good thinking.”

  Before he could reply, the bell dinged.

  41

  The Downside

  A Few Minutes Earlier

  Western Nevada

  SEB found himself growing accustomed to the absolute darkness. There was something peaceful about it, given the knowledge that it would only be temporary.

  “You know,” Webb whispered, leaning close. “This is the last day we’ll have to work for the rest of our lives.”

  “I was just thinking that. It’s mind-boggling in the very best way.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “This has all happened so fast that I haven’t had a second to plan the specifics. But I’m sure it will involve a foreign, warm-weather, beachfront location where I can hire servants for next to nothing.”

  “Me too. I’ll have a cook, a maid and an administrative assistant to manage all the pesky paperwork life tends to cough up.”

  “But no chauffeur,” Seb said. “I want to drive my own Ferrari.”

  The first couple of times the lights went out, the two spies had spent their time slowly wandering around, listening in on conversations. People tended to whisper in the dark, so that made overhearing difficult, but more often than not Seb caught the gist.

  Initially, the talk was all speculation. Who had done this and why? When that became clear it turned to money. When that grew old people reverted to the same small talk you could overhear in any coffee shop. Discussions of sports, politics and television programs. The one thing Seb and Webb never heard was the only thing they cared about: plans to escape. That was the genius of including Kai in the mix. He deftly explained the hopelessness of their situation.

  The Olympian had pushed him on this and that, exploring various avenues, but everything was a dead end. That was the brilliance of Bruce’s plan. They were in the underground version of Alcatraz.

  The excitement did kick up a notch when Oz freaked out, but his wife quickly and wisely got him under control. The man had started out on thin ice and continued to skate. If he hadn’t been in the net, the whole operation would have run on rails. But Seb wasn’t going to curse fate. One out of forty-eight wasn’t bad.

  Then communication with the cabin went off-line.

  As an engineer, Seb and his partner in crime knew that there were lots of reasons for technical glitches. For starters, none of them had worked with bone mics before. They didn’t know how fragile they were. Anything from a weak battery to a loose wire to an inadvertently flipped switch could be behind the silence. Of course, as nervous undercover agents, Seb and Webb worried there was more to it than that.

  “Maybe we should do what Trey said, and agree that ninety-two million dollars is enough,” Webb said.

  They were speaking in the utility room, which was their rendezvous point. As engineers and apparent lovers, they could justify the odd behavior easily enough.

  “Are you nuts. Do the math!”

  “I have. My share of ninety-two million is twenty-three million. Sounds like about twenty million more than I’ll ever really need—especially once I leave California with its ridiculous real estate prices and outrageous taxes.”

  “Not that math, the stay-or-go math. We’ll have the full hundred million in less than twenty-four hours. For simplicity’s sake, let’s say it takes twenty hours to secure the remaining eight million. Your cut of the incremental income works out to a hundred thousand dollars an hour.” Seb couldn’t see Webb’s face, but he was certain it was contorting.

  “Yeah, you’re right. I’d end up kicking myself for walking away from that.”

  “I’ve been thinking about the whole big-net kidnapping thing.”

  “Genius, right? I wonder why nobody else has thought of it?”

  “Actually, I was thinking about the downside.”

  “What downside?” Webb whispered.

  “When you toss a big net, you risk catching a shark.”

  “Oz turned out to be tame enough.”

  Actually, Seb blamed Trey for the issues, but that wasn’t his point. “Yes, but we could have snagged a soldier or a mobster or a gun nut.”

  “At Cinquante Bouches? Maybe a mobster, but how probable is that?”

  “What I’m saying is there’s a risk in going big. The more times you roll the dice, the greater the odds you crap out.”

  “You can’t win big if you don’t pla
y big.”

  “I hear you. I’m just glad we won’t ever have to do this again.” Seb gestured with his head even though Webb couldn’t see it. “We should get back to the big room.”

  “Right behind you.”

  They were near the door that led from the garden to the main room when Bruce’s distorted voice came over the intercom. “We need the women, and only the women, to approach the manual lift.”

  “What’s that about?” Webb whispered. “We never discussed letting the women go early.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t like it. It’s not like Bruce is planning to have his way with them. Maybe he really wants us. Maybe it’s a coded message.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “I think it’s time we grab the guns.”

  42

  Just One Kiss

  Western Nevada

  SELFISH THOUGH IT WAS, I couldn’t fight the feeling of intense disappointment I experienced when Sabrina opened the elevator. I wasn’t the least bit surprised that Katya had selflessly stepped aside, and I was happy for Oz, but my stomach dropped nonetheless.

  As Sabrina fell into Oz’s arms, I shut the door and, despite my fatigue, began cranking like I was trying to whip cream into butter.

  Back in my Olympic training days, it wasn’t unusual for me to build up lactic acid faster than I could burn it, causing the cramps and nausea that accompanied lactic acidosis. Then, as now, I pushed through knowing that a respite was coming.

  Behind me, Oz had Sabrina in a bear hug. He was busy whispering what I assumed was a combination of sweet talk and a situational debriefing. Soon I’d be doing the same.

  Meanwhile, I was fully focused on cranking as quickly and efficiently as possible. Sending the elevator back down.

  When circumstances were suspicious, like the situation we’d created by calling for the women, the best move was to seek safety before your opponents worked up the gumption to take action. In this case, that meant getting Katya on the elevator before Sebastian and Webster grabbed their guns.

  I was counting revolutions in my head the same way I did repetitions in the gym. The bell chimed at the peak of my fifteenth turn, and I stopped on a dime. The tinkle followed an eternity later. I gave Katya a second to shut the door, then started hauling her up. The gears cooperated, but the cramps and nausea quickly returned.

  I tried forcing myself to slow down, to catch my breath. I told myself that if my sweetie was aboard, she was safe. If she wasn’t, if one of the spies had grabbed a gun and was coming up to investigate, then I needed to be ready to react.

  Oz showed himself to be on the same wavelength. Without my asking, he moved into backup position.

  Despite decreasing my speed, my shoulders were burning like phosphorus grenades when the bell rewarded my efforts. I wouldn’t be much of a hugger. Still, the soldier in me refused to stand down. I pulled the Glock from my waistband and held it behind the door.

  I needn’t have worried.

  The elevator opened and Katya was there, dumbbell poised for action. Upon seeing my face she dropped it to the floor and flew into my arms, which of course summoned the strength required to reciprocate. “You’ve got a bloody lip. What happened?”

  “Let me tell you about that later,” she said.

  “Is it okay to kiss you?”

  “It’s mandatory.”

  As I crushed my lips to hers with all the hunger and passion of a wedding day, the world went black.

  43

  Weight Problem

  A Few Minutes Earlier

  Western Nevada

  KATYA found herself feeling calmer than the circumstances warranted—although anything less than hysterical would clear that bar. She was locked up sixty-feet underground. Only her fellow captives knew her location. She was mere hours from suffocating to death in what would become a mass grave. Her boyfriend was single-handedly attempting to turn the tables on an unknown quantity of ingenious foes. And it was so dark she might as well have been blind.

  Speaking of blind, she was getting used to doing yoga in the dark. It was more difficult at first with no visual cues to aid her balance. But after a bit of practice she found that the blindness put her in better touch with her body. She suspected that her postures were actually improving.

  Sabrina reported a similar experience.

  Katya noted that her fellow female prisoner had her emotions under control better than many of the men. Although she was a bit too deferential to her husband for Katya’s taste, when she spoke freely her questions were insightful and her observations thoughtful. This contrasted starkly with some of the bankers and executives, the so-called alpha males, some of whom could be heard sobbing in the dark. Fortunately, their annoying lamentations blended into the backdrop of quiet conversations and were easily ignored.

  Transitioning through vinyasa into extended child’s pose, Katya wondered if this was what it felt like to be at war. Not the our country is fighting overseas kind of war, but the our city is under siege variety. In any case, she was determined to join her man as part of the resistance if and when the opportunity arose.

  Sabrina slid closer on the mat and whispered, “How long has Achilles been a rock climber?”

  Even though the nervous question was clearly prompted by the ongoing escape attempt, the topic wasn’t a dangerous one. The discussion would sound casual enough if overheard by a spy. Still, Achilles’ warning regarding Sebastian and Webster kept the two cautiously quiet while conversing in the dark.

  Before Katya could answer, the robotic voice came over the intercom. “We need the women, and only the women, to approach the manual lift.”

  The two clutched each other.

  “This has to be good news, right?” Sabrina asked.

  Katya hoped so.“If it is, then the announcement will have surprised the spies as much as us. They may take action.”

  “What do we do?”

  “We scramble onto the elevator as soon as it arrives and immediately shut the door.”

  “If you say so.”

  They rose and made their way out of the gym hand in hand, as people did to remain together in the dark. Katya stopped as a thought struck. “Just a second.”

  She felt her way back to the dumbbell rack and grabbed a five pounder. It wasn’t the adjustable kind like the larger ones but rather a single piece of iron that had been dipped in pink vinyl. Keeping it in her right hand, she found Sabrina with her left. “Let’s go.”

  Normally they navigated the room by sticking to the perimeter, but since the elevators were directly across from the gym, the two women fumbled their way through the crowd. Katya found it interesting that almost everyone remained in the main room when not sleeping. She attributed it to the attraction of camaraderie and the calming vibe of a big room with a high ceiling.

  A bell jingled once as they drew close. They hadn’t heard it before, but given the context it was instantly recognizable as an elevator chime.

  The room fell silent in response.

  They found the door and swung it open. The floor reacted to Sabrina’s weight as she stepped inside, dropping a tad and ringing the bell again. Katya quickly followed and closed the door.

  Someone called, “Good luck,” and Katya exhaled in relief. Then—nothing happened. There were a few mechanical clinks but no motion. That couldn’t be a good sign. Surely Achilles would be quick on the crank.

  “Is the door closed all the way?” Sabrina asked.

  Katya opened it an inch and pulled it tight. She heard it click. Still, nothing happened.

  “You can’t both go at once. You’re too heavy.”

  Katya recognized Kai’s voice. “I’ll be right behind you,” she said, and stepped out of the lift.

  The instant the door clicked shut, she heard the elevator start to move. As she stood there listening to it fade, her ears registered something much less pleasant occurring just a few feet away. The subdued snicks and thunks and sucking sounds of someone opening and closing the safe.
Plus the telltale scrape of someone removing a weighty object made of metal.

  44

  Transformations

  Western Nevada

  WHILE SITTING IN THE DARK on the yoga mat practicing poses beside Katya, Sabrina had felt certain that the nightmare was about to end—one way or the other. And what a nightmare it had been. As bad as the other captives had it, she had it worse.

  Only she and her husband had to deal with both internal and external threats. And as far as Sabrina knew, only they had a serious secret to hide. Internally from their fellow captives, and externally from their captors and the police.

  The racism wasn’t new to them, nor were the violent outbursts from insecure pigs. Everyone with dark skin encountered those on a near-daily basis in parts of the United States and Europe. But when you added in the stress of being kidnapped and buried alive, then topped it off with the humiliation of relative poverty, their situation was practically intolerable.

  Still, she and Oz had kept stiff upper lips, as their classmates back at Oxford liked to say. The two of them drew on their conditioning to remain calm, then found a couple of friends and clung tight.

  But what would happen to her if Oz and Achilles didn’t come back? She’d be one of two unprotected women locked in a room with dozens of frustrated men. Potentially for days. Weeks even. It took every ounce of willpower she had to keep certain images from infesting her mind.

  Achilles hadn’t helped when he pressed one of the small dumbbells into each of their hands prior to leaving, and advised them to “Stay in the gym and keep this close.”

  Fortunately, the call summoning her and Katya to the elevator came well before self-defense was required. Despite being delivered by a robotic voice, the words swelled her heart like a party balloon.

  Then the elevator refused to work.

  Sabrina found herself crying when Katya slipped back out of the cab, allowing her to go first. To escape. To finally be safe. But those tears dried up like a morning rain as she rose out of the dark pit and up toward Oz.