Thriller Box Set One: The Subway-The Debt-Catastrophic

by Dustin Stevens

  “Nothing,” Minkus said.

  “Nada,” Ramirez answered, finishing out the crew.

  For a moment Dawson again considered that they had chosen the wrong location before dismissing the notion.

  “Stay sharp, men. They’re coming. They have to be.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Rae and Skye had no problems passing through the front entrance to the geology department building. The young guard with acne scars at the security desk checked them both out – thoroughly – from behind the counter, but not once did he give them anything resembling uncertainty.

  I was a different story.

  To his credit, he didn’t stop me, but I could feel his gaze on me the entire time.

  At forty-two years old, there was no way I was passing for a student, not even in grad school. My look wasn’t exactly in line with what a professor’s might be, but my hope was that with it being the geology building he may buy that I’d been out in the field for some time and was just returning.

  Where that field might be that was anywhere near Northwestern I wasn’t sure, just hoping that it never came to that.

  Luckily for both sides, it didn’t.

  There was nothing particularly important about the geology department, the building not hosting anything we needed in terms of technology. What it did have was a library on the top floor and an expansive view of the computer science building nearby, both of which Skye was able to determine after using my trick and spending an hour or so digging around in the Gary Public Library.

  The entire time she grumbled about the slow speed of the machine, rolling her eyes and glaring at me as if I was the one keeping it from running at full capacity.

  In the end, though, it gave us what we were after.

  With Skye in the lead, Rae and I fell back a half step, the three of us forming a perfect triangle as we crossed the main foyer to the elevators. Around us, the space had been converted into a hall that was equal parts atrium and museum, glass cases offset by enormous greenery.

  Overhead, a skylight showed more of the same gray light that had enveloped the area since I’d arrived, shining straight down, making the space seem larger than it really was.

  Given the mid-morning hour, the place was as full as might be expected, students with backpacks slung over a shoulder shuffling past, their attention aimed down at the phones in their hands, none bothering to glance our way.

  Around the outside of the space a handful loitered between classes, a couple of young frat guys glancing up to Skye and Rae, none being foolish enough to let their gazes linger.

  The sight of what Rae can do when she feels she’s being objectified is not pretty.

  One of the three elevators was on the ground floor, the door opening as we arrived. Joining us was a girl that couldn’t have been more than twenty, a bag slung across both shoulders, wet hair and gym clothes suggesting she was an athlete fresh from morning practice.

  Halfway to the top she exited, never once looking at any of us, her entire demeanor seeming to state that exhaustion was a state she was perpetually living in.

  The remainder of the ride was spent in silence, the elevator depositing us on the top floor a minute later.

  The doors opened into a small elevator lobby, a single entry standing in front of us. Framed in dark wood, it announced the place to be the William T. Austin Geological Studies Library, the lettering all done in gold, polished to a mirrored shine.

  “The computer science building is just south of us,” Skye said, “which means we need to go-“

  “Right,” Rae said, finishing the sentence.

  The instant we passed through the door she veered in that direction, leading us past bays of study carrels on one side, rows of reference materials on the other.

  Given what I guessed to be a combination of the department, the location, and the time of day, the place was nearly deserted. Along the far wall I spotted only a single person, a red haired guy sleeping face down on a desk, enough goods strewn about to seemingly supply him for days.

  “Senior thesis,” Skye whispered, not glancing over as she followed Rae to the far wall.

  I grunted, pretending to know exactly what she was saying, watching as the windows drew closer, their natural light making the room brighter with each step.

  Rae was the first to arrive, walking up to the window and checking in either direction. Seeing nobody, she extracted a pair of miniature binoculars from the bag she was carrying, holding them to her eyes as Skye and I joined her.

  Standing three across, we each fell silent, surveying what lay before us.

  Facing south, we had a direct view of a grassy quad, the west and south ends of it having buildings cut from matching gray stone. Sidewalks passed through the space in perfect diagonals, all meeting around a small circle in the middle.

  To our left was Lake Michigan, white caps pushing in one after another, the water taking on the hue of the sky and appearing almost silver.

  In the distance, beyond the edge of campus, we could see the Chicago skyline, scads of skyscrapers rising up in jagged patterns, appearing as if they were all in a race to reach the clouds, some faring better than others.

  “I’ve got two,” Rae said, passing the binoculars over Skye’s head to me.

  Skye made no acknowledgement of the movement, didn’t try to take them, as I accepted the optics and held them to my face.

  The magnification settings were placed at 25x, giving me a clear view of every person coming and going, able to make out distinct facial features. In what I guessed was a lull between classes, the foot traffic was surprisingly thin, making it easy to spot both the marks Rae had made.

  One was positioned on either side of the quad, each with a direct line of sight to the front and one side of the building. The back end was butted directly up against the curving shoreline behind it, making it easy to case with just two men.

  Each in their mid-thirties, they were dressed alike, in jeans and long-sleeved windbreakers, small bulges obvious beneath their arms. One had dark hair and pretended to be reading a newspaper, as if people still did such a thing. The other had a ball cap pulled low, an electronic device of some sort in his hand.

  Both glanced up at the building every twenty seconds or so, not particularly trying too hard to blend in or hide what they were doing.

  “Clearly they didn’t think this would be our choice,” I said, lowering the binoculars in front of me.

  On the opposite end, Rae said nothing.

  “Why’s that?” Skye asked.

  “Because there’s only two of them, and they’re basically blowing it off,” I said.

  To my surprise, no follow up question came, nor did she ask to use the binoculars.

  For another few moments we stood and watched before I passed the binoculars back to Rae. Returning out to the study carrels we’d just passed, I grabbed two chairs by the arm and drug them over to the window, giving one to each of the ladies before going back for a third.

  “What are these for?” Skye asked as Rae and I settled in on either side of her. “You see the place, you made the two guys watching. Let’s go.”

  “Not now,” Rae said.

  “What do you mean, not now?” Skye asked, her voice starting to betray hints of surprise, even panic.

  “Meaning, right now we watch and we wait,” I said, lacing my fingers in front of me. “Those two guys down there might be decoys, meant to draw us out.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  The waiting lasted the better part of two hours. The first half of that was spent with a lot of huffing from Skye, punctuated by occasionally glancing to either side, trying her best to glare at us without drawing too much ire.

  Halfway through, she even discovered that I was a much better target than Rae, aiming her passive-aggression in my direction.

  Once it became clear to her that neither one of us particularly cared how much she disliked the arrangement, she lowered her chin to her chest and slept. The positi
on couldn’t have done anything to improve the neck health she was complaining about earlier in the morning, but it did seem to indicate she’d heard our words about getting sleep whenever and wherever possible.

  That, or she was again trying to let us know how bored she was.

  Either way, Rae and I remained rooted in our seats, passing the binoculars back and forth in equal five minute segments, the sum total of which revealed only one piece of useful information.

  Dawson was working with a crew of limited size. That’s the only possible reason he would send just two men to Northwestern, no matter how certain he might be about our final destination.

  The time spent staked out overlapped a pair of class changes, allowing us to get a feel for the general ebb and flow of students on the quad. It seemed that every class started on the hour and ended ten minutes before the next, a steady swell of undergraduates passing through during the time between.

  Once the clock moved on there were a few stragglers, those running behind or lingering before heading on, but by and large the place cleared out again, leaving the two men staked out, fighting a losing battle to look inconspicuous.

  At a quarter before noon, Rae shifted her attention away from the window for the first time all morning, turning to look at me square and nodding. Without responding, I reached out and grasped Skye’s shoulder, shaking it lightly.

  “Come on. Time to move.”

  The touch, the shake, seemed to awaken her from some sort of trance, her entire body wracking twice, her head jerking to the side as her eyes popped open wide. Fear filled them for a moment before they came into focus, registering who I was.

  “Wha? We ready?”

  I nodded. “Class change in five. Time to go.”

  Grabbing hold of her chair and mine, I dragged them back to where I’d gotten them, Rae already doing the same with hers.

  “Oh,” Skye said, falling in beside me and rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. The library had taken on no additional guests since our arrival, the only difference being the redhead was now awake and working, oversized headphones smashed down over his ears.

  Waiting until we got to the elevator, Skye said, “I thought the idea was to be seen? Why do it during class change?”

  “Too obvious,” Rae said, her tone just a bit sharper than before, the telltale sign that she was starting to feel an adrenaline surge, could tell that confrontation was imminent.

  Hearing it, I couldn’t help but react in kind, tiny pulses of the same firing into my blood stream, jolting my senses into a higher state.

  “We have to at least make it look like we don’t want to be seen,” I said. “Otherwise, there’s no way they’ll ever follow us.”

  Above, the illuminated numbers steadily counted down, the bottom floor getting ever closer.

  “You good?” I asked, glancing down to Skye.

  Drawing in a deep breath through her nose, she raised up onto her toes, gripping the strap of her shoulder bag in front of her.

  “How many?”

  “Just the two,” I said. “We’ll be the only decoys around here today.”

  To that she gave no response, only nodding slightly.

  “You okay on getting inside?”

  “I got it,” Skye said, the collective tension in the elevator rising slightly.

  That morning, we’d gone through the plan, as thin as it were, a dozen times. The idea had been to create something fluid, a design easily altered on the fly once we had eyes on the target and any possible opposition.

  The elevator descended the last couple of floors as I rolled my face toward the ceiling, embracing the adrenaline as it pumped through me. A thin smile formed on my face as that familiar feeling rushed back, shrugging it on, as comfortable as an old favorite coat.

  Rolling my head to the side, staring over Skye’s head, I let Rae see the look. Saw her recognize it, match it in kind.

  “YO?”

  “Yep. YO?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  We left Skye standing in the atrium. The idea was for her to give us a five minute head start, long enough to cross the quad, be spotted, and pull Dawson’s men in behind us.

  Given the number of students present, and the wide-open positioning of the grassy expanse, there was no chance they would try anything out in the open. Their first response would clearly be to phone in, to get reinforcements coming immediately.

  After that, they would either sit tight or they would pursue.

  That part of things fell to Skye, who would remain just inside the front doors of the geology building and watch. If the men rose and followed us in, as we hoped they would, she would wait for them to disappear, walk straight across the quad, and enter through the front door.

  If they did anything else, she would stay where she was, in plain sight of the guard, and scream that she was in danger until police were called.

  Either way, from the moment Rae and I stepped outside, we had to figure on fifteen minutes, twenty at the very most. Any longer than that, and Dawson would have the rest of us his crew here, and we were in deep shit.

  No two ways about it.

  There was no discussion as the elevator doors opened, Skye lingering as she shuffled forward. Peeling away to either side, I took to the west, Rae to the east, both exiting out our respective sides of the building.

  Not once did either of us utter a word of encouragement or even glance back at the other.

  It was game time.

  A burst of lake air whipped across my body, picking at the perspiration I didn’t realize was lying on my skin as I stepped outside. The tail of my shirt flapped against my waistband as I kept my gaze leveled straight ahead, falling in with a line of students walking around the far end of the quad.

  With hands shoved into the front pockets of my jeans, I looked nowhere but the few feet in front of me, staring at the back of some kid’s psychedelic sneakers as we marched forward.

  The map, and the view from the library, both indicated the walk across the quad was forty yards in length, though it seemed more than twice that as I kept pushing forward. My entire body tingled with sensation, barely even registering the chilly air, as I located the side entrance to the computer science building and walked toward it.

  In front of me, most of the foot traffic peeled away, cutting across the quad toward other destinations, or veering on to the front entrance of the building. Only a pair of bleary-eyed girls seemed to be headed the same place I was, holding the door open for me as I approached.

  Forcing a smile into place, I nodded my thanks, using the exposed glass of the door to check my back, seeing the lookout on my side slowly folding his newspaper.

  Another shot of adrenaline coursed through me.

  He had seen me, and was about to move closer.

  Stopping just inside the door, I waited one minute, letting him draw near, my heart rate and breathing both leveling out. Raising a hand to my waistband, I touched at the hawksbill blade still stowed there.

  Counting off a few extra seconds, I bypassed entering the main of the building, the interior looking much like the geological one I had just stepped from. Instead, I pushed my way through the solid metal door into the staircase, swinging the door open wide in my wake, wanting him to see it closing as he entered, or at the very least hear it bang shut.

  Most buildings had cameras covering every square inch of the interior, but rarely did they waste the expense or energy of watching the stairs.

  Stepping inside, I could see there was little reason to, the space nothing more than bare concrete, everything done in the plain hue of steel gray.

  Positioned on the ground level, my only choice was to ascend. Taking the stairs two at a time, I climbed two floors before stopping and waiting, listening closely.

  Fifteen seconds later I heard the metallic catch on the door behind me release, the sound echoing up through the narrow chamber.

  It had worked.

  The same
thin smile appeared on my face as I positioned myself at the top of the flight of stairs I’d just climbed, one hand on the railing to either side. Without moving, I stood and waited, hearing his footfalls come closer, the sound of breathing growing a bit louder.

  One at a time I heard him ascend, two flights per floor, finishing the third in order before I rocked my hips back, using the position for leverage before launching myself forward. Holding the railings as fulcrum points, I skipped over the entire flight, feet hitting hard on the landing beneath me, the momentum carrying me forward, my shoulder slamming into the wall.

  With his head aimed down, negotiating the stairs, the man had no time to react. His face just barely registered shock as he saw me appear before him, his hands held by his side, a slapjack gripped in his left, a phone in the right.

  Using my shoulder, I pushed forward off the wall, cocking my arm across my face. With a quick snap of my hips, I drove the point of my elbow at his cheek, whipping my arm as hard I could, the velocity whistling it down at his face.

  The man’s first response was to raise his arms and cover.

  His hands never made it above his waist, my elbow connecting flush. I could feel the thin bone of his cheek wilt beneath the blow, his eyes rolling back on contact.

  The man’s leg turned to pudding beneath him, his body melting straight down to the floor, not to move again.

  Having no need or desire to move him, I took his phone and the slapjack, leaving everything else, not even bothering to search him for a gun.

  We had just over twelve minutes remaining.

  There was no way he’d be awake anywhere close to that.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Over the course of one simple elevator ride, Skye Grant went from groggy to electrified. Every function, every nerve, every automated response in her body rose to the highest possible degree, so much so she barely registered the questions Laredo asked her. Working from pure autopilot, she managed to respond to each, even lobbing back a couple of her own, what he was saying barely registering with her.