by Tony Lavely
One broke out of the room, stepping on the door. Derek, watching, called “Knife!” Karen timed the thrust with her leg, tripping him up. Freddy was waiting to grab at the wrist, trying to keep him down. Sue could see enough to smash at his hand with her boot; the second time she crushed a couple of fingers. The resulting scream she found quite gratifying. Freddy had no difficulty disarming him, then, knife on throat, fastening his wrists and ankles with ties.
The other man dove behind the remaining door panel, perhaps thinking that no one would notice him in the confusion attending the knife-holder’s detention, Derek saw, but couldn’t fire without endangering Freddy and Sue. But he also saw Jamse’s head track the motion; he and Dan were inching their way along the wall, hoping to get a clear shot.
Derek called “Ian,” just loud enough to be heard in the headset. Jamse looked back; Derek made a hand signal to stop and another to indicate that he, Derek, would place a shot high on the door, hoping to free it.
The slug did free the hinges; instead of falling, however, it pivoted slowly on the vertical lock rod running from the top of the door to the bottom. It blocked both Dan and Jamse’s view as well as it had done when in place, but Karen, wisely ignoring the knife fight behind her, looked directly into the man’s face. He couldn’t get his rifle around to bear; he threw something. The weight of the leather arm guard Karen wore for shooting was just fine for deflecting it mid-fight, flipping it over her head to clatter further down the hall. The second stuck in the leather, a weirdly shaped gear, it had the benefit of obstructing the third shuriken which bounced off with a metallic clang. It clattered at Sue’s feet as Freddy dealt with the knife man; she drew her throwing knife from the boot sheath and threw it. The man saw it nearly too late; he didn’t get completely out of its path. He suffered only a cut to the upper arm. The respite allowed Karen to bring her weapon to bear; when the guard reached back as if to throw, she shot him in the shoulder.
Finally, it was quiet but for the moans and complaints of the injured guards. Sue gave them each a pain killer injection; they lay still. They spent a minute tidying the bodies against the sofa; then took time to look the room over.
The space was about three meters square; doors on either side. The sofa ensemble stood at the back wall. Comfy chairs from a compatible set were arranged on the side walls, guarding doors. The color scheme, even to the wooden trim, was red: burgundy, scarlet, vermillion, a raft of other shades had been used in the slip covers, the lamp shades and the wall covering, itself the classic whorehouse crushed velvet. The lamps were lit, but not to provide illumination. Usable light, also dark red, came from fixtures hidden behind the crown molding.
The team focused on the doors. The one to the left opened on a space apparently intended for expansion; it was barren, a large empty room with a rock floor and walls.
A faintly heard high-pitched scream brought their full attention to the door on the right.
Derek, once more on the point, opened the door. He was at once stunned and aghast at the scene before him.
“I feel like I should stop to wash, get cleaned off, you know,” said Karen as they made their way out.
“I know. I hope Sue and Millie’ll be able to help those girls. My God, who could even imagine such things.”
“Indeed,” Jamse agreed.
After a lengthy pause, he said, “On a not even faintly related topic: what are we leaving that might enable our identities to be discovered?”
”God knows, the girls will have left more than enough evidence of themselves. It’d take a month to clean it, maybe more. If you’re just talking about us, records of our prints and DNA are pretty scarce, fortunately. And everyone’s s’posed to be wearing gloves. Kevin and Sue might have left some blood here and there, and someone might have spit. ‘Course, if the security cameras are working…”
“My sense is that it will be difficult to dissuade authorities from a full scale investigation. If evidence exists, how should we approach this part of the problem?”
“I think Kevin should be part of this decision, among others,” Karen replied.
“Too true. I had planned to remove the young ladies and sufficient records to perhaps find Werner and recoup our losses, turning the balance of the operation over to the authorities.” He sighed. “However, we have left injuries, not to mention several bodies, and property damage.
“While the salient facts of the case would undoubtedly incite a strong conservative backlash in dealing with these people, well-deserved in this case, I have no way to assure that our involvement remains backstage.”
“No friends here?”
“No. It is far from our normal field of operations.” They were walking now, along the hallway to the blocked staircase. “The girls will attract some attention when we return them, as well.”
“Well, yeah.” Derek couldn’t disguise his reaction.
“It will require significant delicacy. In the meantime, here we are.”
“Let’s sweep the floor again,” Derek requested as he slipped into one of the darkened hallways; Karen and Dan took a second. Jamse climbed to examine the ceiling doorway that they hoped provided access to the control center; Freddy hung back to watch for anyone they flushed.
“It’s clear, at least for now,” Derek reported, “Willie, anything up there?”
Willie reported nothing new and Jamse advised renewed attention as they were about to take action.
The combined effort of Freddy and Dan was sufficient to dislodge the door they had earlier used to block the stairs. It fell to the tile floor with a gratuitous clatter heard, Jamse was sure, all the way to the helicopter. They had started to press the thermal cord around the opening when Willie’s call came.
“Got something!” He then became more interested in the goings on than the reporting.
“Something’s movin’ over there,” Sam reported, somewhat redundantly. But then he added, “There’s one - no, two! - heads. One’s trying to get out and the other… Watch out, Willie! Pistol!”
Pffagh, or some such non-committal sound came from Willie. At Jamse’s signal, Derek ran to the exit, sure that the issue would be long since decided when he arrived.
“One, looks like a woman—” They heard rifle fire. “… and she’s running. Willie’s put the other one down after he tried a shot.” Sam’s voice was rapidly dropping back to its usual timbre. “Looks like the woman’s comin’ down the bluff, this side.”
Derek heard most of this as he ran along corridors and down staircases, then out through the storage room, just in time to see a person come skittering down the slope beside him, not ten feet away. She landed awkwardly, a leg twisted behind her. Carefully but with speed, he ran to her, sidearm in hand. She was fully involved with her own pain; his approach went unnoticed until he dropped a knee across her neck and fastened her wrists with a tie. Another tie immobilized her legs.
“Ian, I have a woman down here, outside the storeroom. Looks like she sprained her ankle pretty badly; other than that and a few scrapes, she looks to be ok.”
“Excellent. Leave her there; assist Willie up above. There may be a different threat; haste is advisable.”
The moon continued to shine, providing light for Derek to find his way up to Willie’s position. Or former position. A body lay on the sand next to a horizontal hatchway, this one revealed by a fair sized rock which moved on substantial steel arms. Light gushed out of the hole like flood water from a blown off manhole cover. Willie was looking at an immense control panel near the foot of the ladder.
Derek scrambled down the ladder. “What’s the problem?”
“Dude out there said ‘trap’ and then ‘flood’.”
“‘Ow about the door?”
“Haven’t seen that either.”
Derek turned to survey the room. It was semi-circular; about five meters across the diameter, the control panel at which Willie was seated occupying about half the wall. The other half was another control system, possibly for the
seemingly hundreds of TV monitors that covered the wall above both panels. Nearly all were dark. Derek turned to the wall next to the railing.
The floor seemed continuous, but the railing and the missing staircase below belied its apparent homogeneous nature. From this side it looked as if no one was expected to have infiltrated; a large button was marked “Lower Entry.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Wild Shots
“IAN, WE’RE IN THE CONTROL room. Stand clear. Might be dropping the stairs. Or not.” Derek’s voice came from the radio.
Small but eloquent mechanical noises ensued, though for a second, they had no visible effect. Jamse stared up, looking for the source of the sounds. The character of the sound changed; a motor taking load, perhaps. A semi-circular section of the ceiling began to drop. He recognized the pattern of stair treads, each one stopping in its correct position while the others continued to the floor.
With the staircase in position, Jamse took the steps up to the command center two at a time. As his head cleared the floor, he saw Willie looking at an immense control panel near the foot of a ladder reaching up to… That must be the second exit.
Derek turned to greet him as he surveyed the room. It was semi-circular; between twenty and twenty-five feet across the diameter. The control panel at which Willie was seated occupied about half the wall. The other half was another control system, possibly for the seemingly dozens of TV monitors that covered the wall above both panels. Nearly all were dark.
He joined Derek in trying to figure out what the annunciator displays meant and thus determine the implications of their changes. Willie interrupted their conversation to call their attention to the displays. Most were amber, two were green and one, no, now two were red.
But Willie was still looking, he pointed at a button without markings; it was located at the far end, adjacent to a bare section of the wall. With a nod, Willie pushed; as they watched for the wall to change, small mechanical noises came from somewhere indeterminate, much as they had when lowering the staircase. In this case, however, when motion came, it was of the whole wall sliding into a pocket. The opening was at the near end; the bare wall next to Willie disappearing.
Before anyone reacted to the new situation, a shot came from the new opening, then a second and a third. The first missed, the sound of its ricochet obvious in the now too small space. Jamse ducked, and he saw the second shot hit Karen’s side, a puff of dust marking the spot. Before he could move toward her, his head suddenly was slammed almost off his neck.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Beckie Takes Up the Slack
BECKIE AND ELENA WERE JUST finishing the brief equipment summary when Beckie saw Elena’s eyes widen. “What?”
“They’re in the control center. Karen and Ian have been shot…”
Oh, no!
“Karen’s ok, Willie says, but Ian’s unconscious. He’s asked Sue to come back and look at him. They’ve lost contact with Derek.” She glanced at Jean-Luc. “Can we go faster?“
Two minutes later, Jean-Luc pointed to a glare of light atop the bluff. “Sam reports no activity, so I will take you to the top. Mind your step.” He dropped the machine softly on the sand alongside an opening in the ground, the source of the light. A rock seemed to be suspended above it. The copter lurched to flip Beckie back into her seat as she tried to rise. Embarrassed, she succeeded the second time; with barely a glance at the body lying beside the hatch, she trailed Elena down, into the rock.
On the fourth step, she heard “‘Old fire!” Then, “Is Sue there yet?” The accent told her it was Derek’s voice, along with a high pitched keening that… He’s in there, she thought, looking at an opening in the one straight wall in the room.
“Yeah. She’s finishing with Ian. You okay?” Willie responded.
“I’m okay, but I need some ‘elp here. Broken leg on the shooter.”
“We care about the shooter?” a surprised and somewhat truculent response came. Beckie looked at Willie. That’s harsh!
“I think so,” Derek replied. “Looks like one of those girls.”
Sue placed Jamse’s head on a seat cushion and hurried through the opening. “Yeah, you done a fine job.” Beckie recognized some sarcasm along with the concern. “I know, I know. Explain later; just tell me what happened.”
Beckie went down the steps to kneel by Jamse’s head. Oh, no. Please be okay. She stroked his cheek and his short blond hair, listening to the conversation through the door. Beckie looked around. Elena was talking with Willie in low tones, pointing at the indicators. Above the indicators, the semi-circular wall was covered with small monitors. TV pictures. Those are all too dark to really see. Maybe… furniture? Or something.
“We opened this door,” she heard Derek say, “and shots came out. I slipped into the room before she got the door shut. With no light, I ran into this cabinet and as Willie opened the door again, I pushed it over. Didn’t expect to find ‘er underneath it. The clothes give ‘er away.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Beckie heard. “Ok, this’ll kill the pain and let her sleep. I wonder if she thought we were them coming back, once she’d found a weapon.”
“Might account for her not hitting anything.”
“Well, she did get Ian in the head…” Beckie looked down at Jamse, then watched Willie make his way into the other room. “In the helmet, rather, and Karen in her armor—”
“Likely wild shots, just waving the gun,” Willie said. “What was she using?”
Beckie brushed her lips across Jamse’s forehead, then patted his face again. She gave him another look before standing to stretch.
Willie continued, “Nine millimeter, eh? A purse gun. It accounts for the dent in Ian’s helmet and the fact that she could hold it down.”
Beckie sidled to the opening and looked in. This room was the second half of the control section. A six foot high cabinet in two pieces was sprawled across the rug. Bric-a-brac, papers and books were scattered from the cabinet to the sofa and chair against the opposite wall. An office space filled the far end. A second breakfront stood there.
Derek and Willie were standing next to Sue, who was on her knees attending to a young girl with Asian features. It seemed clear to Beckie, with the advantage of good lighting, that the girl must have been one of the abducted girls. She looked younger than Beckie, with shoulder-length black hair, high breasts marked with small, fresh bruises, a tight but not defined belly and long legs of the sort Beckie would describe as coltish. About her hips were a pair of insubstantial culottes, covering without concealing.
Sue was working on the girl’s legs. “This one’s bruised where you hit it,” she said to Derek without looking up, “but I think this ankle’s shattered.” Well, yeah, Beckie agreed. That foot goes in a completely different direction than the rest of her. “Did I hear Elena out there?”
Willie nodded and went back out as Elena came through the door. “I was trying to figure out… No matter,” she said, looking at the girl on the floor.
“Get an air splint outta my pack, please. Next to Ian,” Sue directed. “A small one.” Elena turned back, returning in short order carrying a package and the pack.
Beckie knelt by the girl’s head. She turned the face toward her, opened an eye to see the color. “She does look like the ones we already found.”
“There were two in that pen place,” Sue told her as she fitted the splint. “This one’s gonna need an operation soon, in the next day or two, so she can walk again.”
Derek had drifted to the other room when Elena came in, but he now reentered in time to harmonize with Willie: “‘Ey, got something ‘ere…”
Beckie turned; Karen stuck her head through the door.
Willie went first. “The guy outside said ‘flood’ and this button’s marked ‘Flood All’.” Looks like it’s been pushed, too. What did you see, Derek?”
“More of the indicators are turning red. I’m thinkin’ we better get out of this place, and damn soon.”
“But wait! There are still people here,” Beckie exclaimed. “We can’t just leave them.”
“We maybe shouldn’t,” Derek said, “but we can, Beckie.”
No! We can’t do that! “Well, let’s try, anyway. We gotta get the girls. And that photographer, we locked him to a pipe almost at the bottom. Sue, you know how to get there. If she…” Beckie pointed to the girl on the floor. “is ready to move, can you take Karen down and get him?” Her big eyes focused on Willie. “Please see if you can find a way to stop it. Or anything that would help. Like more lights!” Sue nodded, took the night vision goggles from Beckie and gave them to Karen.
“Derek,” Beckie continued, “you and I’ll go back to the Playpen or wherever, get those two girls; get them out of there.” Sue started toward the stairs. “Sue, can they be moved?”
“Yeah. Their injuries aren’t nearly so bad as drowning.”
“Yeah, that’s so true, I guess. Thanks. Elena, will you come with Derek and me?” Elena gave her an amused look, then nodded. “And Dan and Freddie are still out there?”
“We are.”
“Maybe you could get Mr. Jamse outside and into the copter.” She looked at the girl on the floor. “Then come back for her. I think Jean-Luc still has the stretcher; that’ll be the best way to get her out. Sue?”
From the radio, “Go.”
Beckie started, then, “Will the other girls need stretchers? Or anything else?”
“A lot of love and care, like the rest of them. But they should be able to walk, especially if motivated by rising water! ‘Bout to start down, now. Radio may be spotty.”