by Regina Doman
Where is the emergency locking key?
In a second the answer came back:
Purple keycard=Top upper drawer
Gasping in thankfulness, she dug through the mess of junk in the right hand drawer and at last she spotted it: the purple plastic card.
Grabbing it, she typed frantically,
Going to lock some doors.
She hurried out of the office just in time to see Alex disappearing into the hotel kitchen, followed by several masked men. More men were hurrying across the lobby, and some of them were waving guns.
Her heart in her mouth, Kateri ran for the doors, pulled them closed and slid the emergency keycard through the slot, locking them.
Then she rushed down the hallway to the guest rooms, ignoring the banging and shaking on the doors behind her.
Pausing to catch her breath, Kateri faced the hallway of first-floor guestrooms. There was one masked figure in the hallway, but when he saw her, he nodded, pointed to his phone. Kateri nodded back at him, and the man went back into his room and shut the door.
Kateri wondered how long it would be before the word got out about her bluff. She also wondered when the cyberthieves would get mad enough to shoot.
Well, she didn’t have time to find out.
She pulled out the purple keycard that had the ability to trigger both the inside and outside locks and slid it silently into the first door until the light turned red and she heard a click. Locked. Swiftly, she crossed the hallway to the next room number. Locked. Back to the left side. Locked.
In the same manner, she locked the first ten doors. Probably many of them were empty. Their occupants were outside or chasing after Alex. But maybe keeping them out of their rooms would be just as useful as trapping them inside.
Running through the lobby, Alex had made a decision. He was winded, and would eventually lose energy, although right now adrenalin was still pumping through his veins. He was drawing the cyberthieves after him, and away from Sam, David, and his parents. So he’d have to continue to run, and lead the thieves as far away from his family as possible—even if it meant a chase to a dead end.
He dashed into the hotel kitchen, hearing his attackers coming fast behind him in a stampede.
The kitchen was small and cramped, with an island taking up most of the space. He dashed around the counter, sheathing his sword, and grabbed a handful of knives. By the time the first three cyberthieves—a gorilla, a Storm Trooper, and Zorro—had gotten inside the kitchen, he had leapt onto the stove and was ready to fight.
With a banshee yell, he hurled the knives at his attackers, who shouted and ducked under the countertops. Thanks to Kateri’s organization, there were plenty of weapons within reach. He threw spoons and ladles, hurled silverware and plates. The masked men couldn’t get close to him but barreled around the room, taking refuge behind the island. He waited until as many of them had crowded into the room as possible, hurling artillery all the while. When he ran out of silverware, he seized the bowls of cinnamon roll dough and dumped them on the heads of the first two who charged him, leaving them sticky and bewildered.
He knew he couldn’t keep it up forever. Just when he guessed that they were massing themselves for an attack, he leapt from the stove to the island countertop and out the kitchen door, where the fragrant smell of fresh coffee greeted him. Quickly he grabbed both pots off the machine and tossed the boiling hot regular and decaf onto the gorilla and Zorro. The masks protected their faces, but they yelped when the hot coffee hit their arms and clothing.
After hurling the pots, which smashed like bombs, Alex turned and plunged through the lobby.
He caught a glimpse of a crowd of men outside, huddled around the doors, apparently working on the locks. There was a shout as he sprinted by, hurtling down the hallway to the stairs. He could hear feet pounding behind him, and Alex yanked the stairwell door open just in time to hear a gunshot. It missed him, but shattered the window just behind him.
Somehow, being shot at brought the first sweat of real fear into him. He knew the line had been crossed, and the hackers were ready to kill.
Hope Sam and David are getting down the mountain, were his only fleeting thoughts as he pounded up the stairs. As he passed the second floor, he heard them coming behind him, an ominous rumbling. And Kateri? Where was she?
When Kateri reached the second floor, she reached the first guest room door just as it opened. The Martian put his head out. “Is it time?”
Kateri shook her Wookie-masked head. “Not yet,” she said. “Everyone’s to continue to stay in their rooms.”
The Martian put his head to one side. “But Admin just said…”
Kateri shrugged. “It’s on the latest message. Did you check?”
“No—let me see.” The Martian turned away from the door, and Kateri, seizing her chance, pulled the door shut and locked it swiftly. Now she dashed from door to door double-time, jamming her keycard into each door slot until the light turned red. Locked. She crossed the hallway. Locked. Back to the left side. Locked.
Behind her, handles were jiggling. Soon hammering began as the people trapped inside the rooms began pounding on the doors. Would they climb down the balconies? If some of them were as fat as the cyberthief in the basement, maybe not…
Next door. L ocked. Locked. Locked. All second floor rooms, locked. She took a deep breath, struggling to stay on her feet.
One more floor left to go.
Barely able to breathe, Alex hurled himself up the steps. He didn’t dare go onto the other floors, for fear of disturbing more cyberthieves. There was only one place left for him to go.
The roof.
He reached the door, pulled out his master key, and opened it, pushing the door open and feeling the evening breeze hitting his hot face. He looked behind him, and saw the first of the cyberthieves reaching the landing below. With a wink, Alex locked the heavy metal door and pulled it shut behind him.
He hurried around the side, wincing as the gun went off again and again and again, reverberating on the steel. Maybe they’ll use up all their bullets that way, he thought.
Recollecting himself, he dropped to his hands and knees and crawled to the edge of the roof, peering over the three-foot high ledge into the parking lot. It was darker now, but he could still see figures down below. Three? As far as he could tell, they were standing around and talking on cell phones. He couldn’t tell if they had gotten the front door open yet. He crept to the other side of the roof and checked the side entrances. One figure stationed there. On the other side, the trees covered the service entrance, but he was willing to guess there was another guard there. Plus the two men he had seen come out of the woods.
There was no trace of anyone in the pool yard, and no one seemed to be searching the woods, so perhaps Sam and David had broken through. But how long would it take them to get down the mountain?
He took a deep breath and counted in his head. Seven outside … one handcuffed in the basement. That left thirty-two cyberthieves at large. He stared down at the blue square of the pool and then turned and walked towards the center of the roof, trying to think of how to handle all of them. He knew he couldn’t do it.
There was another gunshot, and he spun around, reflexively drawing his broken sword.
Five masked men straggled onto the roof, still masked but looking a bit winded. One of them, sporting a bulldog mask, held the gun. The Joker gave a loud, trademarked cackle, “Now the fun begins at last.”
They were all on the roof now, and ranged themselves in a half circle. Alex was silent, sword still at the ready, back to the roof wall and the setting sun.
“Ready to give up and come quietly?” the Joker taunted. “Or do I have to use a knife?”
Alex waited and took a deep breath. What he needed now was to be calm, absolutely calm. As was habitual, he began an invocation to the Blessed Mother.
The bulldog took a step closer. He began to gesture, making short jabs with the gun. “Drop the weapon, or
I’ll shoot.”
Alex concentrated on keeping his sword absolutely still, despite his sweating palms. Another deep breath.
“Are you deaf? I said, drop the sword, punk!”
Completely focused, Alex closed his eyes for a brief second and felt the warmth of peace spread through him. With another deep breath, he opened his eyes and gauged the distance between himself, the bulldog-masked man, and the edge of the roof.
“Drop it!”
Without a word, Alex turned. In a few steps, he sprinted to the edge of the roof, and leapt.
“SA-CRA COR!” he shouted as he cleared the roof ledge and fell, trying to point his toes downward and holding the sword tightly in his hands over his head.
There was nothing but the rush of silence and wind around him.
Foosh!
The water closed over him swiftly and he gasped and bent his knees as he hit the bottom of the swimming pool’s deep end—hard, but not hard enough to crush any bones. He sprang upwards, his sword point piercing the surface of the water as he came up, gasping and feeling more than a bit disoriented. But the sound of gunfire quickly cleared his brain. He grabbed the ledge, grappled for a moment, then hurtled himself out of the pool, running for the living quarters as the second gunshot ricocheted off the concrete. Thank God they aren’t great shots.
Pounding on the door to the living quarters, he was fumbling for his keycard when Dad finally scrambled out of the bedroom to open the door, and Alex spilled into the living room, slopping water everywhere.
“Where were you?” Dad asked.
Alex just gestured upwards with his head, winded.
“Okay,” his dad said, after locking the door. “I don’t think I’ll tell your mother what you just did. She’ll have a heart attack.”
Alex attempted a smile, as he bent over, hands on his knees. “Where’s Kateri?”
“She said she was going to try to lock doors,” Dad said, frowning, still brandishing the gun at the pool door. “I hoped she was with you.”
On the third floor, the hallway was deserted, aside from the sweating, panting Kateri. She paused for a moment to adjust her furry mask, purple card in hand, trying to strategize. Just in case anyone came up the steps after her, it might be best to start with the rooms furthest from the stairwell. Trying to be as silent as she could, she sprinted down the hallway and slid the purple card into the lock for door 310. Locked.
Next one: locked. Next one: locked.
Seven more doors. 307: Locked. 306 across the hall: Locked. 305: Locked.
304: locked. 303: she fumbled, dropped the card, grabbed it with damp hands, tried again: locked. 302 started to open: she snatched the handle, pulled it shut, locked. 301…
Door 301 was opening. By the time she had locked 302, there was a masked figure standing in the doorway of 301, watching her.
Kateri tried not to let her voice tremble as she said, “The instructions from Admin are for everyone to stay in their rooms until he gives the signal.”
The figure, which was stout and wearing a rubber pig’s mask, snickered as it pulled out a gun. “That’s funny,” said a high-pitched woman’s voice. “Because my instructions from Admin say that I’m supposed to search for an albino Wookie, and put it out of the way.” She dug the barrel of her gun into Kateri’s side. “And I think I just found her.”
Kateri swallowed and thrust the purple card into her pocket, then glanced over at the gun. It was small and silver, and the muzzle felt very cold. Kateri was sure it was real, and that this lady knew how to use it.
Her captor pulled the mask off of Kateri’s face. “What’s your name, chino girl?”
“Wanda Ling,” Kateri said quickly.
The woman snorted. “I don’t think so, Kateri Kovach. We’ve done our research, even if you did take us by surprise for a bit there.” She dug in her pocket and then tossed something at Kateri’s feet. “Pick up that rope,” the woman directed in a voice that was too sweet. The pig’s face smiled, but the little eyes peering through the mask were cold.
Kateri bent down and found herself holding a small coil of thin white nylon rope.
“Tie it around your wrist, chino girl, and make it good and tight.”
The gun twisted into Kateri’s ribs, and, gulping, Kateri wrapped one end of the rope around her own wrist and knotted it.
“That’s it,” the woman said, and before Kateri had realized what happened, the woman yanked the rope out of her hand and quickly looped it around and around Kateri’s shoulders, until Kateri’s arms were squeezed tightly against her sides and her wrist was twisted up painfully behind her back. Dizzily she staggered, the carpet pattern swimming before her eyes.
“Get down on the ground,” the woman directed, shoving the gun downwards, and Kateri toppled onto the carpet, while the woman tied her wrists together. When the woman released her grip, Kateri rolled face down on the ground, completely helpless.
The woman chuckled. “Lie still, chino girl.” She settled her bulk on Kateri’s back and began to tie Kateri’s legs and ankles with the rope, with the same jabbing, painful motions until Kateri was sure she’d lost all feeling in her lower body. Crushed into the carpet, trying to catch her breath, Kateri twisted her head to one side and saw the empty corridor of locked doors. Her efforts to stop the cyberthieves had almost succeeded. But ‘almost’ was not enough. Not enough to save herself. She hoped Alex was still alive and fighting.
Her one wrist was close to her pocket. With feeble fingers, she grabbed at the edge of the purple card and managed to ease it out of her pocket.
She could hear people hammering on doors and shouting, but the fat lady didn’t seem to care. Finished with Kateri, she hobbled to her feet, grabbed her captive by the ankles, and dragged her into room 301, burning Kateri’s cheeks on the carpet as she did so. But the woman didn’t notice the purple card lying behind them on the ground, camouflaged by the rest of the outrageous colors of the carpet.
The door locked behind them with a heavy thunk.
There was no way out. Kateri knew she was trapped and more in danger than she had ever been in her life.
Setting down her gun on the plastic-covered bedside table, the woman heaved Kateri up onto the bed, which had been stripped and covered with a plastic sheet. Twisting onto her side, Kateri got her first glimpse of the room.
Room 301 had been turned into a costume shop. There were plastic bags, and molding compound, paints, wigs, and makeup spread out on the beds and tables, which were all covered in plastic, making it look like some kind of laboratory. Kateri noticed a row of handcuffs laid out on the window sill.
A laptop stood open on one table, and the woman wearing the pig’s mask sat down and typed rapidly on the keyboard.
Lying on the plastic-covered bed in her cotton scrubs, her sides and wrists aching from the tight ropes, Kateri felt like a white rat trapped in a lab. She shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position, but there wasn’t one.
“You’re one of the forty cyberthieves, aren’t you?” she said at last, trying to steady her voice.
The pig chuckled. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she mocked. “Let’s say I’m one of the more talented ones. I’m very useful when it comes to operations like this. Mostly because I’ve got a little more spine.”
“What are you doing?” Kateri asked, as the woman continued typing.
“Telling Admin that I got you. He’ll be pleased. At least one of us hasn’t screwed up yet.”
She paused. “Huh. Admin’s not answering, but that’s his problem. No time to waste. I’m getting started on you.” She stood up and grabbed a large camera from the bedside table, and stood over Kateri. Regarding her for a minute, she abruptly smoothed back Kateri’s disheveled hair. Then she held up the camera.
The massive flash blinded Kateri. By the time the balls of light in front of her eyes subsided, the woman had laid aside the camera and was snapping on rubber gloves. Next, she unrolled a sheet of what looked like thick plastic wra
p and clicked on a hair dryer. She ran the hair dryer over the plastic dexterously.
“What’s that for?” Kateri asked, feeling a surge of dread.
“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” the woman said, clearly focused on her work.
Then she approached Kateri, holding the warmed plastic. “Better take a deep breath, chino girl. I don’t care if you suffocate.”
Kateri barely had a chance to take a breath before the plastic was pressed over her face. For a few minutes she writhed, gasping while the woman pushed the soft plastic over her nose and mouth and eyes, molding it into place.
“Hold still and you can still breathe,” the woman’s voice came through the nightmare of Kateri’s panic.
Finally the mask was gone, and Kateri lay on the bed heaving and trying to breathe despite the unyielding ropes around her ribs, while the woman busied herself with the molded plastic.
“What are you doing?” Kateri managed to ask at last, trying to master the tears that still crowded her eyes.
“Making you,” the woman said, and held up the plastic. “I think it’s a pretty good likeness, don’t you?”
Kateri saw her own image looking back at her. She could tell the face was distorted with pain, but it was close enough.
The woman put down the rapidly-hardening mask and picked up a spray can of rubber foam. With quick and careful strokes, she sprayed rubber compound onto the mask and turned it over for Kateri to see.
“Like it? So do I. Mostly because that means I’m done with you now,” the woman said, her eyes gleaming through the pig mask. She set the mask down on the other bed and picked up the gun. She approached Kateri. “Say goodbye to living, chino girl.”
Wack!
Alex’s sword hilt came down on the small of the woman’s back.
The female cyberthief fell like a stone, and Alex stood over her, his long black hair and black shirt wet and dripping, breathing hard, his broken sword blade pointing at the woman’s neck. Kateri could see her shoulders shaking with fear.