He was miserable. The cramps in his legs were so bad he didn’t think he’d be able to stand once he got upright again. His shoulders weren’t quite as bad as he’d been able to flex and stretch them occasionally, but his back was a knot from the base of his spine all the way up to the base of his skull.
Cursing her under his breath, Alastair watched as she meandered back into what would be the bathroom, if her setup was the same as Nysa’s room. Now was his chance. Bracing his legs on the inside of the duct, Alastair propelled himself against the vent cover with what little force he could muster. Sharp pains tore at every muscle in his body. Luckily, the drywall gave way immediately, leaving Alastair hanging halfway out of the vent. He heard her cry of alarm as he lowered himself to the floor. As quickly as his stiff body would allow, he ran to the bathroom and grabbed the woman.
“Don’t make another sound. I’m not here to hurt you.” He could see the disbelief in the girl’s eyes. “I’m the guy the guards are looking for. I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m here to put a stop to it. I’m not here for you. I’m looking for my fiancée, Nysa. If you keep quiet, I’ll just be a minute and then I’ll be on my way. Agreed?”
She nodded her head stiffly.
“Good.” Alastair let her go and moved to the bathroom sink, taking out the Web jack as he went. Placing the gun on the sink to ensure her continued cooperation, Alastair took out his iPOD and began his search.
“What are you doing with that?” the young woman asked.
“Looking for Nysa,” Alastair replied distractedly.
“I know where she is.”
Alastair whipped around and faced her. “Don’t screw with me on this.” He placed his hand on the revolver.
“No. No, really. My name is Mary Alice. I work with her. Right now she’s at the medical facility with Jacqueline.”
“Where?”
“The medical facility. It’s on level B-4.”
Looking back to his iPOD, Alastair accessed the cameras for level B-4. Sure enough, there was Nysa sitting in a chair next to a woman in a hospital bed. He turned back to the girl. “Thank you,” he said as he raced out of the room to the elevators. While he waited he suddenly realized he’d shut the elevators down. As he made his way to the stairwell, the ding of the elevator startled him.
“As long as they’re working again,” Alastair muttered. He stepped quickly inside, scanned his card and hit the button that would take him to his fiancée. The doors closed, but the elevator did not move. He pushed the button again. And again. He pushed the door-open button. Nothing. He was trapped.
There had to be a way out of here. Looking up, Alastair saw the escape hatch. Boosting himself up and using the handrails as a step, he forced the hatch open and made his way to the top of the elevator. From there he could reach the doors to the next floor. There was no way for him to know what stood on the other side. Taking a deep breath and saying a quick prayer, Alastair forced them open and peeked out. The hallway was deserted.
He once again plugged into a wall socket and hacked into the security system. He located the guards in the main lobby. Joseph looked irate. He was pacing back and forth, screaming continuously at his subordinates. Their expressions were blank. They would come back. He had no illusions to the contrary. He would have to act fast. Changing programs, Alastair took control of the elevators and sent them all up to the lobby. Their arrival would undoubtedly occupy the guards’ attention while Alastair carried out his plans.
The guard closest to the elevators took a step back out of line, bringing his assault rifle up into a firing position as he moved quickly into a more advantageous position. The others were alerted by his actions and followed suit. When the doors opened, a brief burst of gunfire swept the inside of the car. There was nobody inside. The arrival of the second car elicited the same amount of caution, minus the gunfire, as did the third and fourth.
In an effort to get an idea of what was going on, Joseph retreated back to the control room. He was out of luck. The entire system was down.
“Fucking techies!” He pulled out his sidearm and shot one of the blank screens. He reholstered his weapon and walked back out into the lobby. “Looks like we’re going to have to do this the old-fashioned way. The guy we’re after programmed the security system and has now shut it down. Prop open those elevator doors so that they stay here. You two cover the lobby—make sure he doesn’t escape. The rest of you, I want you to conduct another floor-by-floor sweep. Leave nothing to chance. Check everything. Start at the bottom and work your way up.”
The four men immediately turned and proceeded to the nearest stairwell. Since the stairs were used only for emergencies, there was no reentry from the stairwell except on the ground floor. They would have to blast open the door when they reached the bottom, but they were in a mood to do some damage anyway. As the door closed behind them Joseph turned to the two remaining. “Nobody leaves. Nobody.” He spun on his heel and returned to the office.
December 24, 8:00 PM
Jacqueline had made a very quick transition into the third and final phase of labor. She was now at a full ten centimeters and her contractions were coming less than two minutes apart. The epidural and Pitocin drips had been turned off and the doctor had been called into the room. He was accompanied by three nurses. Although that kind of staffing was unnecessary for what should be a pretty standard delivery, no one wanted to miss out on witnessing this historic moment.
Nysa sat by Jacqueline’s bed offering any comfort she could think of, or that was asked of her. She had been rubbing the small of Jacqueline’s back and feeding her ice chips for the last couple of minutes.
“Now, can you rub my legs,” Jacqueline asked, turning from her side onto her back. “They’re driving me nuts.”
“Absolutely.” Nysa began massaging her legs, first the right then the left, working her way from Jacqueline’s thigh down to her foot. “Better?”
The doctor stepped forward. “Let’s get this baby delivered, shall we?” Jacqueline nodded in response. The nurses moved to various parts of the room and began their preparations. “Very good,” he continued. “During the next contraction I need you to push for a count of ten. Can you do that?”
“Yes,” answered Jacqueline.
With the next contraction, Jacqueline took and deep breath and pushed.
Nysa counted “One, two, three…” At ten, Jacqueline let out her breath and collapsed back onto the bed.
“Very good,” the doctor said. “The baby’s head crowned. Now I need you to do the same thing again with the next contraction.”
Jacqueline’s nails dug into Nysa’s hand as she took another deep breath and pushed.
“Great, great,” coached the doctor. “You’ve got him moving now. I want you to push his head out with your next contraction, okay? You need to push as hard as you can.”
Jacqueline collapsed back onto the bed, trying to catch her breath as the contraction ended.
“You’re doing wonderfully,” Nysa told her. “One more time, okay?”
December 24, 8:02 PM
Alastair slowly made his way up the ladder inside the elevator shaft. While the four guards ran around the lower floors and the other two sat in the lobby, Alastair would be able to climb to level B-4, pry open the doors as he had on the lower level, and find Nysa.
The trip was slow and methodical. He couldn’t afford a misstep now. He was eight floors above the bottom of the shaft. One slip could leave him dead. Hand over hand and foot over foot he proceeded. Occasionally he paused to wipe the sweat from his brow and hands.
At level B-6, he took his last break. The gun slipped out of his pocket. He watched in horror as it disappeared into the blackness below. It discharged at impact and the sound was deafening.
The two guards in the lobby immediately turned to the source of the sound. Stepping into the elevator one of the guards took out a flashlight and shined it down between the elevator and floor.
“Holy shit
! There he is! The mother fucker’s in the shaft!” The guard took his rifle and shoved it down into the gap in the floor and opened fire.
Alastair could feel and hear the bullets whizzing past him and careening off the walls and ladder. Thankfully, the narrowness of the gap between the elevator and the building did not allow the guard much room to maneuver and aim. The guards were spraying bullets down the elevator shaft in the hopes of hitting him.
His only hope was up. Scrambling up the ladder, Alastair prayed to God he’d make it. He was so close now. One floor away. He kept climbing. An excruciating pain filled his hand. As he reached for the next rung he saw only four fingers on his right hand. One of the bullets had found its mark and blown off his pinkie.
He kept climbing. Alastair was beyond caring at this point. He could see the release lever on the inside of the door. He reached out for it, grasping the bar with what remained of his right hand and pulled. He slipped and almost lost his grip with his left hand.
His lost his footing, leaving him dangling by one hand sixteen floors above the elevator basement. Focusing to keep himself from panicking, Alastair found the rung, first with his right foot, then his left. Bracing himself and trying to ignore the hailstorm of gunfire from above, he pulled once more. This time it gave.
Stepping quickly from the ladder into the cover of the door, Alastair slid the door closed behind him. He had no time to lose. They might not know which floor he’d entered, but it wouldn’t be long before they figured it out. He was sure of that. There was nobody around.
He moved carefully from room to room until he heard noise coming from a room at the end of the hall. Grabbing a gauze pad from a medical cart as he made his way down the hall, Alastair quickly wrapped his injured right hand. The sounds were clearer now. It was a woman yelling and voices talking. He jogged quickly to the doorway and looked in.
There was Nysa! She was standing at the side of the hospital bed, bent over and talking to the woman on the bed who, from the looks of things, was about to give birth. Alastair entered the room.
Nysa looked up. “Alastair?”
The others looked over at him.
“How…? What are you doing here?” she asked.
Alastair stepped further into the room and stopped next to Nysa. “I had to come for you. Whatever it is you’re doing here, you have to stop. Stop and come home, there’s not much time.”
“I can’t stop,” Nysa replied. “It’s done.”
Jacqueline took a deep breath and pushed, screaming with exertion as she tried to bring her son into the world.
“What’s done?” he asked.
The baby’s head slid gently out of the birth canal. How odd that a baby so young should have such a look of sadness on his face, Alastair thought.
“He is,” Nysa replied, a pure expression of love shining on her face.
Alastair looked down at the child being born. “Jesus Chri—”
About the Author
Born and raised in southern California, Scott and his family recently relocated to Colorado. He resides just south of Denver with his beautiful wife and two energetic boys. This is his debut novel and he is currently working another, which will be the first in a series of four. Please visit his website www.scottlcollins.com.
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