The doors to the elevator opened, and they stepped inside. Melina pressed the button for the garage floor repeatedly. Evan ignored it this time. The doors shut, and the elevator began its descent.
Evan was trying to think of what the picture could mean when Melina voiced the question aloud.
“What does it mean, Daddy? She looked asleep just as she entered the intersection. It’s like she wasn’t even driving.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “The police did an accident investigation. When we get there, we can look at the …”
Evan stopped talking as the elevator ground to a halt with a loud and jarring thud. He grabbed Melina just before she slammed into the wall of the elevator.
“What happened to the elevator?” Melina asked.
Before Evan could answer, one of the roof tiles in the elevator slid over, and a small canister the size of a can of soda was tossed in. It landed in the corner of the elevator and burst open emitting a dense green fog. Almost instantly, the entire elevator was engulfed. Evan recognized what it was. He held his breath, so he could try to use the elevator control panel and open the doors, but the fog made it difficult to see. He looked over and saw Melina fall to the floor of the elevator unconscious. When the elevator failed to respond, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He quickly dialed the numbers 7-1-1. This was the emergency number available on all agent phones. It was answered twenty-four hours a day by an operator at the agency. As he dialed the last digit of 711, he lost consciousness and fell in a heap on the elevator floor next to Melina.
“Hello, 711 operator. What is your emergency, Evan?” the phone in his hand said.
After a moment, the elevator started back up and continued to the garage floor. The doors opened, and a man in a gas mask walked up to Evan and Melina on the floor of the elevator. He picked up the phone and turned it off. Then he waved to two other men getting out of a van parked next to the elevator door.
“Load them into the back of the van.”
Chapter 8
Evan opened his eyes and slowly focused on the object in front of his face until he realized that it was the bottom of a shoe. Somewhat disoriented, he was tried to figure out why he was lying on the floor staring at a shoe when he realized that Melina was lying next to him, and the shoe was hers.
He immediately jumped up and knelt at her side. “Melina! Melina! Wake up!” he said as he turned her on her back.
She shifted her position on her own, so he could tell that she was alive, but he could not get her to wake up. It was then that he looked around, and he saw that they were lying on the cement floor of a dingy room about the size of a two-car garage. The room was almost entirely bare except for a string of empty shelf units along one wall, and a single freestanding cabinet that stood next to a sink on the opposite wall. There were no windows, but the room was brightly lit by several banks of fluorescent lights hanging in rows from the ceiling. The room looked as if it once had been used as a maintenance room for an office building.
Evan tried to get up, but his legs buckled and he dropped back down to the floor. He was still a little groggy as he got on his hands and knees and looked down at the floor. The exposed cement appeared to have been stained by years of chemical spillage, and there was a gradual slope toward a metal drain in the center of the room.
Confused about why they were there, Evan paused as he tried to remember the recent past. Finally, the grogginess in his head subsided, and it came back to him that they were in the elevator at work when a can was tossed into it from above. Then there was a fog. Evan knew the can could have been only one thing. An FC-33 Fog Canister. Otherwise, known around the agency as an FCAN. Pronounced ‘F-can’, the agents had their own interpretation of what the ‘F’ stood for. Standard issue for agents in the field, they are used to neutralize the people in a room before the agents enter. Disguised as a regular soda can, they are activated the same way one would open a soda. The dense fog is used to create a cover to conceal the agent’s movements while also containing a powerful sedative to render the victims unconscious.
Evan looked back at Melina. The sedative was still in her system. He took off his jacket, balled it up, and put it under her head for a pillow, hopeful that she would wake up soon.
Wherever they were, Evan wanted to get them out. He looked around and spied the only door in the room, a solid metal door ten feet to his right. He ran over to the door and tried the doorknob, but a deadbolt prevented the door from opening. There was a place for a key in the deadbolt, but it was missing. Frustrated, Evan took a step back and kicked an area of the door around the jamb as hard as he could kick, but his foot was no match. It only made a loud noise that echoed throughout the room.
Behind him, Evan could hear the faint groaning of Melina waking up. He turned around to see her sitting up rubbing her eyes.
“What was that noise?” Melina said, continuing to rub her eyes.
Evan ran over to her. “Are you all right, kiddo?”
“Umm, yeah,” she said looking around, her head still spinning. “Where are we?”
“I’m not sure where we are, or why we are here,” Evan said as he looked around again. “The wood trim on the walls and the electrical fixtures give me the impression that we are in a fairly old building. Maybe early twentieth century. Probably an old abandoned office building. I can’t say for sure.”
That bothered him. Evan was someone that always planned things out, so he was not used to not knowing what was going on. Or where he was. The only thing that was clear was that they had been kidnapped and locked in a room. Who had done it was not as clear. His work had made him many enemies over the years so it could be anybody. The worst part about it though was that whatever it was he was dealing with now involved his daughter.
“I’m not going to sugar-coat it, honey,” he said. “It appears that we have been kidnapped and locked in this room.”
Melina still trying to wake up rubbed her eyes. “Kidnapped … what?”
“Someone tossed an FCAN in the elevator at my work that knocked us out and then they kidnapped us.”
Melina opened her eyes as wide as they would open. That seemed to help with the last of the cobwebs. She looked over at her dad. “What? What’s an FCAN?”
“A fog canister. It is just what you would think it is from the name. It is a small canister that when activated and thrown into an area, inundates the area with an opaque fog. Some of the time it is used to create a visual barrier but most of the time it contains a chemical that can make the occupants of the area unconscious.”
“You speak as though you use these things at work,” Melina said. “What, do you have some of these FCANs in your desk?”
Actually, I do, he thought. That also got him to thinking about the canisters themselves. The fog was a sickly green color, just like the agency FCANs.
“How long was I asleep?” Melina asked.
Evan looked down at his wrist to check the time, but his watch was gone. He reached into his pocket for his cell phone. It was gone too. Then he checked all of his pockets and they were empty. No keys. No wallet. His heart sank. Taking the cell phone was understandable. It would prevent him from communicating. But taking all his possessions meant that this was not a typical hostage situation. He knew that when kidnappers did not care that you were returned safely, they took your belongings. This made it harder for anyone to identify you.
Evan looked over at Melina. “Do you have your cell phone? Did they empty your pockets too?”
Melina put a hand in each of her pockets. They were all empty. “They took my cell phone and everything else.”
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Evan said as he began to look more intently for a way out. He started at one wall and looked for any hidden doors or windows. He was halfway through looking at the second wall when he heard Melina behind him.
“Hey!” she said. “There is a spot of light on the floor.”
Evan looked at the floor and saw a patch
of sunshine the size of a quarter on the floor near the door. He put his hand on each side of it until he determined from the shadow that it was coming from an area above one of the shelves on a far wall. He ran over and climbed to the top of the shelf unit. As he looked closer, he could see several one-foot tall and two-foot wide panels embedded into the wall near the ceiling. One had a hole in it that was allowing the light to reach the floor. He scratched at the surface of the panel nearest him.
“These panels are painted-over windows!” he said.
He scanned the room for any cloth, and he spotted an old rag lying in a heap in a corner of the room.
“Melina, bring me that rag,” he said, pointing to the corner.
She grabbed the rag and handed it to Evan. He made a fist and wrapped the rag around it several times so that it covered his entire hand. He turned to the window and began to tap on the glass. Softly as first, and then a little harder each time. He could tell that it was safety glass and would shatter into a thousand pieces, but he wanted to break it slowly and with as little noise as possible. No need to alert anyone what was going on. Finally, there was a slight cracking sound and the window broke into a maze of tiny fissures. Evan poked at the window with a knuckle until there was a hole and then put his finger in the hole and pulled backward. Hundreds of tiny glass pieces fell inward creating a larger hole in the window. He looked through the hole and saw metal bars staring back at him. The bars that business owners put up to keep people from breaking into their business.
“There are bars on the windows,” he said as he looked down at Melina. “We’re not going to be leaving through them.”
He looked back out the window and scanned the horizon.
“It appears that we are on the second floor of the building,” he said. “I can see downtown Dallas about a mile away. From the direction of the sun, and the look of the surrounding buildings, I would say we were just east of downtown. On Elm or Canton Street.”
The area east of downtown started out in the early part of the twentieth century as an industrial part of town. Massive three and four story buildings were built to manufacture everything from cars to hats. Then, smaller office and bank buildings followed. But the manufacturing dried up after the Great Depression, and the area fell into disrepair. The area had seen a recent revival as artists and music venues had begun to move in, and some of the buildings had even been turned into loft apartments, but the majority of the buildings were old abandoned relics.
Evan jumped down from the counter and walked over to Melina.
“Are you doing okay, kiddo?”
“Yeah, I guess,” she said.
Evan took her in his arms and gave her a hug. “I will get us out of here, I promise.”
The calmness of the moment was interrupted by a loud noise that sounded like footsteps walking down a tiled hallway. It sounded as clear as if the noise were coming from within the room. Evan put his ear to the door, but the sound was not coming from behind the door. Then he looked up. It was coming from the vent in the ceiling.
“What is that noise?” Melina said, looking up at the vent.
“It sounds like footsteps,” Evan replied. “More than one person. Our friends must be coming to check on us.”
Evan listened through the door again.
“They are coming this way,” he said. “Stand over by that wall.”
“What are you going to do?” Melina asked nervously.
“I hope to get us out of here,” he said, still concentrating on the door.
Melina stood her ground. “I want to help.”
Evan turned toward her and gave her the arched-brow look. She knew that look. Her dad only gave her that look when she was trying to talk him into something, and he had already made up his mind. Evan knew she had lethal fighting skills. Skills he made sure that she had. But he wasn’t ready to watch her put those skills to the test in a battle of life and death. Not yet.
“Over by that wall,” he said pointing across the room. “Please.”
Melina frowned and then reluctantly walked toward the wall. She was worried about her dad. She knew that he did not have the advanced fighting training that she had. He was an engineer.
“I’ll be over here if you need me,” she said as she got to the wall opposite the door. She took a deep breath and assumed a fighting stance.
Evan looked around for anything that he could use as a weapon. There was nothing in sight. He scanned the shelves of the units against the wall again. Nothing. He opened the cabinet next to the sink and looked on all of its shelves. On the bottom shelf, there were several empty paint cans.
“This will do,” Evan said as he grabbed one of the paint cans and set it on the ground next to the door. He positioned himself to the side of the door, behind where it would open. He set his feet and raised his hands in a fighting stance. Melina giggled in amusement at her dad. He must be imitating what he has seen her do.
Evan looked toward Melina. “Don’t move and when the door opens, don’t look over at me.”
The noise of the footsteps became louder and louder in the vent until he could also hear the steps through the door. Then the noise abruptly stopped. He watched as the keyless deadbolt turned while it was being unlocked from the other side. Melina, unsure what her dad was up to, still stood ready to jump in and help him.
The door opened into the room, and a man dressed in a black sweatshirt and jeans entered. He was carrying a gun, which was drawn with a fully extended arm. He pointed it at Melina as he entered the room. She fixed her gaze on the man.
“Well, now,” the man said to Melina as he walked toward her. “Look who’s awake.”
Evan waited for the man to emerge from behind the door. When he saw the gun, he lunged forward with a vicious chop to the man’s forearm, snapping it with a loud crack. The gun dropped to the floor as the man yelled out in agony and stumbled back out the door. As Evan expected, a second man came through the doorway and made a move toward him. Evan picked up the paint can off the ground and then tossed it high in the air in an arc toward the man.
“Catch!” he said.
The man instinctively looked upward at the can. Evan ran toward him and delivered a perfect side kick to the man’s face that sent the man flying back out into the hall. Melina looked at her dad with her mouth agape, not quite believing what she had just seen.
Evan quickly turned around and bent down to pick up the gun dropped by the first man when he heard a loud click behind him. It was the distinctive sound of a gun being cocked.
“I wouldn’t move if I were you,” a voice behind him said. “I’ve got an itchy trigger finger.”
Evan froze. In part because a person with a gun was telling him not to move but mostly because the voice sounded eerily familiar.
He looked over at Melina. She had left her position against the wall and was now halfway to him. He put up his hand toward her. “Stop. Don’t move kiddo.”
“I figured this is how it would go down,” the voice said. “That is why I waited in the hallway.”
It couldn’t be, Evan thought. Not him. He put his hands down at his sides, slowly stood up, and turned around.
“William Mason,” Evan said.
“Hello Evan,” William said smiling. “I would say something clever like ‘Sooo, we meet again’, but I just saw you this morning so that would be stupid.”
Evan did not say anything. He just stood there with a blank look on his face trying to process the turn of events. Melina could not take it anymore. It did not matter that William had a gun. She wanted to be by her dad’s side. She walked toward him, trying not to make any sudden moves.
“And you must be Melina,” William said as he turned to her. “I’ve heard about you.”
“You know this guy?” Melina said to her dad.
“We work at the same company,” Evan replied.
Melina looked at William and back at her dad. “I’m confused. Why would a coworker of yours kidnap us? Did you write some crappy
software code?”
William looked at Melina confused, and then threw his head back and laughed as a person would do if they had just learned something both fascinating and entertaining.
“I forgot,” William said as he looked at Melina. “You are not aware. This is delicious.”
“Aware?” Melina said.
“Let me ask you something,” William said to Melina. “What do you think that your father does for a living?”
“He’s a software engineer. He writes code that goes into telecommunications equipment.”
William looked over at Evan. “A software engineer?”
Then he burst out laughing.
“You told your daughter that you are a software engineer! Of all the jobs that you could have pretended to have, you chose software engineer? The biggest geeks on the planet?”
More laughter.
“That is priceless,” William said, composing himself and looking back at Melina. “My dear, your father can no more write software than he can flap his arms and fly to the moon. He has a slightly different job. The company we work for is a covert branch of the U.S. government called the Executive Reconnaissance Agency. We work directly for the President.”
“President?” Melina asked. “You mean like President of the United States?”
“That’s right,” William said. “Our organization is in charge of gathering intelligence from within foreign countries on direct orders of the President of the United States. Your father is one of our field agents. He is what is known in popular culture as a spy.”
“I don’t think so,” Melina said, laughing at the absurdity. “Spies wear lots of white dinner jackets and have weird skills, like knowing how to play baccarat and they are excellent fighters. My dad is none of that.”
“Ah, yes,” William said. “I cannot speak to his baccarat skills, and I have never seen him in a white dinner jacket, but your father is a fifth degree back-belt in taekwondo and ninth dan in krav maga. He speaks twelve different languages, and he has been to more countries in the world than I am sure you can name. The President asks your father to-”
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