A small, quavering voice came from the speaker.
“Declan, I … I am so sorry I let you die. I’m scared. This man has us trapped here and I don’t know where I am.”
The girl paused for a long time and Sayer thought it might be over, but then she spoke again.
“I miss you and this place is like a nightmare and I don’t even know what’s real anymore. We were in this big room with only darkness for walls and sand on the floor. And now I’m trapped in a pyramid and I think I’m in a tomb and outside there’s silos and a field covered with a grid of dark manholes that I think might lead to hell. I might be hallucinating and I miss my mommy and daddy and I wanted to kiss you again. And now you’re dead and I didn’t get to tell you anything.”
The recording ended with a click.
Declan put his phone down, fighting tears. “Kate must’ve seen me get shot. She doesn’t know I’m alive.”
Sayer’s heart pounded. This new info, coupled with what Nell told her, had to help them find the girls. She looked at the time. It was only two hours before the next murder was scheduled.
“I need to take your phone,” Sayer said sharply.
“Of course!” The boy practically threw it at her.
“I’ve got to go. You three stay safe.”
Tino gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before Sayer ran out to Jake’s car. She sped back to Holt’s boat so fast she thought the old car might just literally fall apart before she could get there. When she finally pulled up at the marina, she sprinted to the boat, desperate to stop Miles Windsor before he could kill again.
HOLT’S BOAT, MARINA, SOUTHWEST WASHINGTON, D.C.
Sayer stormed into the cabin. Jake sat on the floor beneath the fish tank, watching everyone with tired eyes. Holt and Al were back to poring over maps while Max and Ezra had their heads practically pressed together looking at something on Ezra’s computer. Kona curled at Max’s feet, eyes half-open.
Though tension still lingered in the air, things had obviously been diffused between Jake and her team.
“Ezra, I need you to trace a recent call to Declan’s cell!” Sayer rattled off the boy’s number. “Kate Brooks called and left a message less than an hour ago!”
She clicked play and Kate’s shaky voice filled the cabin.
They all listened, faces grim.
When it ended, Sayer could barely talk fast enough. “So, a huge place near Howard University with sand floors. A pyramid, some kind of tomb, silos, and a field with a grid of manholes. Ezra? Holt?”
Holt shoved aside a few maps, looking for something. “That’s vaguely familiar, hang on.”
Ezra’s fingers flew over the keyboard as he looked online.
While they searched frantically for possibilities, Sayer looked around the room.
“So?” she asked Max. “Did you guys decide if we should trust Jake?”
“Not sure exactly,” Max said. “I will say that watching Holt interrogate Jake was like watching a hawk circling a field mouse. Poor guy didn’t have a chance.”
Holt glanced up from the maps. “You know I can hear you…”
Max smiled. “I think we all agree, Jake is probably telling the truth.”
Holt, Ezra, and Al all nodded without looking up from what they were doing.
“Okay, good. That was my take, too.” Sayer sighed, slowly adjusting to this new reality. Jake sitting here in the same room with her was going to take some getting used to. For just a moment, she let herself imagine a future with Jake in her life, but she couldn’t seem to form a picture of what that would even look like.
“Got it!” Holt and Ezra said at the exact same moment.
Ezra gestured for Holt to go first.
“The McMillan Sand Filtration Site,” Holt said.
“That’s where I traced the call as well!” Ezra nodded emphatically. “Though I can’t figure out the exact location on the grounds since there aren’t even supposed to be open phone lines there anymore.”
“The what?” Sayer asked.
Holt rolled open a map and pointed to a large, empty space next to the McMillan Reservoir in northwest Washington. “It was the silos that tipped me off. I remember seeing a bunch of photos of the place when I was doing some research on the Bloomingdale neighborhood.”
“Wait, what is this place and why does it have silos? I grew up in the city and never heard of it,” Sayer said.
“It’s closed to the public so a lot of people probably have no idea it’s even there,” Holt continued. “It was built around the turn of the last century after a bunch of typhoid epidemics hit Washington in the late 1800s. They realized that typhoid was a waterborne disease and so they built this massive filtration system that basically uses sand to clean the water. Though to be honest, I don’t know much about how it actually worked.”
“Ezra?” Sayer asked.
“Yeah, so, reading online”—he skimmed his computer screen—“it says that it’s a huge facility, over twenty-five acres with twenty belowground chambers that they call catacomb-like. Whoa, this has got to be it. Each chamber is over an acre in size and has a sand floor. It looks like they would pump the dirty water in from above and then it would slowly filter down through layers of sand. When the water seeped out of the bottom, it was clean enough to drink.”
“So let me see if I understand, there is a massive facility in northwest Washington that still exists with twenty catacomb-like belowground structures that have sand floors,” Sayer said.
“And look at this.” Ezra pulled up an image on his screen. “Each chamber has a huge double door and ramp leading inside. These look large enough to drive a bus through.”
“Miles Windsor could literally just have driven the entire busload of kids into one. It would be a perfect spot. Close to the heart of the city, but isolated enough that no one would be nearby.”
Ezra pushed back his blue hair. “Look at this photo of the silos and grid of dark holes. It looks like they stored the extra sand in the silos, and there’s a grid of, whoa, two thousands manhole covers that they used to drop the sand down into the chambers. It says here you can see the grid of manholes from space!”
Sayer got up and tried to pace in the cramped space. “What about the pyramid Kate mentioned?”
“Hmm.” Ezra scrolled through photographs of the site. “Well, there were a few small outbuildings that housed the water pump controls and look, they have a peaked roof that could look enough like a pyramid I guess.”
“All right, decision time.” Sayer looked into the eyes of everyone there. “We could let the team at Quantico know what we know. Telling them might mean that Anderson’s guys storm in and take Miles out before we even get a chance to talk to him. I would definitely like to make sure we find the girls before someone puts a bullet in his head. But going in without Quantico to back us up could be dangerous and could blow back on us all.”
Max waved a hand in the air. “Who the hell cares. All that matters now is getting those girls home safely.”
“You know I’m in,” Ezra said.
“Of course I’m all in, hon.” Al smiled at Holt. “I might not have a gun, but I could dazzle them with my sparkling intellect.”
“You even have to ask?” Holt smiled at Sayer, then positively beamed at Al before she turned to Jake with stormy eyes. “Jake?”
He held up both hands in surrender. “Of course I’ll help any way I can.”
“Great,” Sayer said sharply. “Okay, Max, Kona, Ezra, and Jake with me. Holt, you and Al should stay here and focus on the next potential body dump site. We’ve only got an hour and a half until the next scheduled murder. If the McMillan Sand place doesn’t pan out, I want to know where we should look next.”
They all stood to gear up.
“And remember, no phone communication,” Sayer added. “In fact, we should all turn off our phones and disable the GPS.”
“You, uh, should actually just leave them here,” Jake said. “They can track your phones even if they’re off and
disabled.”
“Great,” Holt said. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“If you all turned off your phones at the same time, I knew it would raise suspicion. I don’t have a phone on me so they don’t know I’m here, but they already know you’re all here,” Jake said apologetically.
Holt’s nose flared with anger. “Fine. No need to broadcast where we’re going now. Hang on.” She hefted herself up and disappeared into the back room. She returned a minute later with two-way radios. “I’ve only got three, but we should be able to communicate with this. They’ve got about a four-mile radius so McMillan is within range.”
Holt handed a radio to Sayer and one to Max and they all turned to the same channel. “Be careful,” she said gruffly as they piled up their cell phones onto the table.
Feeling slightly untethered with no home and no phone, Sayer led her small team out into the cold night air.
MCMILLAN SAND FILTRATION SITE, WASHINGTON, D.C.
Sayer pulled the old Porsche along a chain-link fence on 1st Street NW just south of Michigan Avenue. The four adults and dog were jammed uncomfortably into the small car and they gratefully tumbled out next to an old gate.
While Max worked on the padlock with a pair of bolt cutters, Sayer stared through the fence. She could just make out a broad field dotted with a grid of manhole covers creating dark lines across the grass. Two rows of vine-covered silos rose on either side of the field.
Max cut the lock, but the gate was so rusted the hinges barely moved. He managed to bend the opening a few inches.
“Okay,” Sayer said softly. “I see four pump houses. Assuming those are the pyramids Kate described, let’s start there. Max and Ezra, you go check those two to the right. Jake and I will check the ones to the left.”
Max eyed Jake with suspicion, but then nodded. He gestured for Kona to follow him and they squeezed through the opening. Ezra had a moment of difficulty getting his prostheses and cane through, but once he got to the other side, he easily caught up with Max and Kona. Sayer watched them hurry off into the distance.
“Thanks for letting me come with you,” Jake said.
Sayer nodded noncommittally. “Let’s go.”
She checked in quickly with Holt via radio then squeezed through the gate, ribs screaming with pain.
When Jake got through as well, they hurried toward the pump houses. The grass gave way to gravel as they approached the first building and Sayer slowed hoping to cover the sound of her approach. They made it to the back wall and Jake crouched close behind her. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck and it sent a jolt through her body.
Ignoring her physical response to his proximity, she slid her gun out and led the way around to the front. They passed a window that was covered with too much grime to see through. At the entrance, the thick door was so badly warped it cracked down the middle.
Sayer pushed on the swollen wood and was able to shine her flashlight through the crack.
“Kate?” She squinted into the abandoned structure and saw nothing but old trash scattered across the floor. Nothing to suggest a tomb. “Nope.” Sayer stood up.
Jake grunted understanding and they moved off toward the next pump house. They passed a row of silos. The cement cylinders were covered with climbing vines that made them look like they belonged in an English garden.
Even from a distance Sayer could tell that the second pump house was different. Relatively new boards completely covered all of the windows. On high alert, they approached slow and quiet.
A new padlock hung on the solid front door making it impossible to see inside.
Sayer gestured for them to pull back and they retreated into a hollow tunnel beneath the nearest silo.
She whispered into the radio, “Max, we’ve got a possible location for the tomb. How goes it there?”
“Both pump houses empty here. Ezra and I will be right there.”
“Bring the bolt cutters.” Sayer clicked off. She glanced over at Jake. He stared out at the pump house with an intensity she had forgotten.
For the first time, she was able to break through her own anger and see this all from his perspective. He had literally sacrificed his happy life to serve his country by infiltrating a dangerous organization. He had spent four years slowly building a case, forced to make ethically gray decisions to work his way up the ladder. And now he might be throwing all that sacrifice and hard work away because he wanted to protect Sayer.
Kona arrived just before Max and Ezra, snapping Sayer back to the moment. She gestured for Ezra and Jake to stay put while she and Max went to open the door.
Max quickly cut the lock and kicked open the door.
Sayer rushed in, gun up. “FBI!”
Max and Kona followed on her heels and they swiveled, back to back, checking the corners.
“Clear,” Sayer barked.
“Clear,” Max confirmed.
They both lowered their guns to take in the incredible scene.
They stood at the center of what Sayer would have sworn was an ancient Egyptian tomb.
And Kate Brooks was nowhere to be found.
TOMB, MCMILLAN SAND FILTRATION SITE, WASHINGTON, D.C.
They all stood in the pump house tomb.
“Well, this is creepy as fuck,” Ezra said under his breath.
Egyptian hieroglyphs covered every available space on the walls. The writing seemed to be separated into panels, each depicting a complex jumble of people and glyphs. Even the ceiling was covered.
A homemade sarcophagus dominated the center of the room. A basin sat at the foot of the sarcophagus, full of water. Sayer couldn’t help but notice that it was most certainly deep enough to drown someone. Was this where Rowena and Becky were killed?
“Probably where he imagined his final resting place after he made it through the twelve chambers,” Ezra said.
Sayer kicked at a pile of old detritus pushed to one corner. “This could be how Kate called out.” She crouched down next to the dismantled rotary phone still hand-wired to the wall.
Ezra came over to inspect the phone. “Wow, this girl is smart. I’m not even sure I could’ve figured out how to wire this ancient thing.”
Sayer stood, turning her attention to the writing on the walls. She pulled out the radio. “Holt?”
“We were just about to radio you,” Holt responded.
“Tell Al we’re standing in what looks like a reproduction of an ancient Egyptian tomb. There’s a sarcophagus in the middle of the room and writing on the walls, I see”—Sayer turned around the room counting—“twelve panels.”
“Are they each divided into three sections with horizontal lines?” Al’s voice came over the radio. “Go to the first panel to the left of the door and tell me what you see.”
Sayer hurried over and stared. “I see nine baboons on the top panel. This is the Amduat.”
“Exactly. I suspect you’re looking at a reproduction.” Sayer could hear him breathing. “Amazing,” Al finally said.
“Okay, Kate’s not here but we found the phone she used. It’s nine thirty.” Sayer didn’t have to finish the thought. They all knew what that could mean. Miles was probably already taking Kate to the next symbolic spot. She looked over at the water basin. Perhaps she was already dead.
“That’s why we were going to radio you!” Al said with excitement. “The National Zoo! The reptile house there is a perfect representation of the fourth chamber in every way. Labyrinthine, hot, full of snakes…”
“The zoo.” Sayer tried to remember the last time she’d been to the reptile house.
“And,” Holt interjected, “I’ve been monitoring the latest from Quantico. They’re watching traffic cams and they spotted Miles in the car you saw him driving at the fountain. He was heading west on Michigan Avenue, which leads right to the zoo, but they have no idea where he’s going. They saw him barely twenty minutes ago. If you hurry, you won’t be far behind him!”
“Okay.” Sayer’s ad
renaline kicked into high gear. “We’ll head there now. I’ll check in soon.” She hooked the radio back onto her belt and thought for a moment. “We still need to clear the twenty chambers beneath ground here, hopefully find the rest of the kids on the bus. That’s twenty acre-sized buildings to cover and we don’t have anything that smells like the girls right now. Can Kona find them?”
Max rumpled Kona’s head. “Of course she can. We can use the manhole covers. I’ll just have her do a general human search. If we find a chamber with people in it, she’ll let me know.”
“Great, Ezra?”
“Holt can call in the EMTs and I’ll stay here to meet them. If … when we find the girls, they’ll probably need medical help right away.”
“Perfect. While you do that, Jake and I will head to the zoo. It’s only a few miles west of here. We’ll be in touch on the radio.”
As Sayer turned to go, Max reached out and gently touched her arm. He looked over at Jake with suspicious eyes. “You sure?”
“I’m sure,” she said with finality. She’d learned to trust her gut when it came to who she could rely on and, no matter what had happened between them, she believed Jake was telling the truth.
Max gave Jake a hard stare but then nodded and set off with Kona at his hip toward the field of manhole covers.
Sayer gave Ezra a farewell shoulder squeeze and hurried out to try and stop Miles Windsor once and for all.
ROAD TO SMITHSONIAN NATIONAL ZOO, WASHINGTON, D.C.
Sayer pushed the gas pedal hard, goosing the old Porsche above eighty. They rode the first few minutes toward the zoo in silence. There was too much history to even know where to begin.
Finally, Jake said, “I used to come here all the time as a kid. There’s a road that runs along the north side of the zoo. We can jump the fence near one of the old pedestrian entrances and land right behind the reptile house.”
Sayer was relieved to focus on the task at hand. “Sounds right.” She tried to picture the reptile house. It had been more than twenty years since she’d been to the zoo, but the unusual building was hard to forget. The Byzanto-Romanesque style with colorful tiles and a row of reptile gargoyle heads made it look more like a brick temple than a zoo building. It was the colorful mosaic of a stegosaurus above the front door that she remembered most.
Cut to the Bone Page 25