“Thank you,” Renoir responded, as he wrapped the cloth around his leg.
David rose from the floor, looking over at Tim and Simon, who were still conferring. It was a wonder the two hadn’t stopped them as they huddled in the corner to talk. Tim had glanced over and nodded his head from his men to the group, and there had been some visible whitening of trigger fingers, but that was it. So far.
“Do you know why these guys are here?” David asked Renoir.
“Probably because of that asshole.”
Renoir motioned to Raj, who stood off to the side, his right hand clasped around his left wrist, the two pulled against his crotch as if he had to pee.
“I suspect my colleague has created something that these men want.”
“A vaccine?” Jeff asked.
Renoir scoffed, “Doubtful.”
“I think what they want or don’t want is beside the point,” Nina interjected. “I’m more interested in what happens to us now.”
The group fell silent.
“Well, it looks like for the moment, all of us, these guys included, are trapped in the building,” Jeff said. “What would you do if you were in their shoes?”
“Well,” Nina began. “Half the Seattle Police Department must be out there by now.”
“We don’t know that.”
“Jeff, you might not think so, but to a lot of people, you’re a pretty big deal. The police will be here, probably with half the FBI.”
“Including Ransom?” Jeff’s eyes brightened.
“Of course.”
“Seriously though,” Jeff started. “How would they know I’m here? How do we know if there are any police here yet?”
“They're here,” Renoir said. “They responded to the fire alarms.”
“The police did?” David asked.
“Police and fire. I could see them from the upstairs window. They have the building surrounded.”
Raj looked over, lifted his head curiously, and shifted his feet in place. Then a tumbler seemed to slide into place in his head and he wandered towards them.
“What the fuck have you been up to, Gupta?!” Renoir shouted.
* * *
Nick’s footsteps echoed off the linoleum in the empty hallways. He’d been late before, and he’d certainly gone AWOL on more than one occasion, but this little rendezvous had run longer than usual. Not that that was a bad thing. Nick ran down the last corridor, rounded the corner, and slowed his pace to a medium clip as he walked through the doors into the office’s back hallway.
It was quiet.
The place seemed abandoned.
He walked down the hall, looking into several of the faculty members’ open doorways. The desks all sat empty. This was atypical.
He glanced over his shoulder at the door to the Chair’s office. Renoir was no doubt coming in to greet Jeff Pepper upon his arrival. Maybe the entire department had left for a tour of Gupta’s labs. A tour, coupled with a bit of ass kissing for additional grant money from Pepper’s foundation. That was probably exactly what was going on. Still, maybe there was a delay. Maybe the faculty was just late, or Pepper was late, and Dr. Renoir was just sitting at his desk, checking his email, or playing video poker until he got the call to head downstairs.
Maybe.
Nick walked down the hall, paused at the doorway, then tilted his head inside. The blood was the first thing he spotted. Renoir’s chair — spattered in fresh crimson. Blood darkened the side of the desk, sprayed over the wood in a fine mist.
All sound in the room swept into his ears. He heard his own heart beating as step by step he approached the desk and looked down at the floor.
There was no body.
That was good.
What there was was a pool of deep, deep red. Someone had been injured. He could only assume it had been Renoir. His senses grew sharper, though the room remained pin-drop silent. Nick looked at the pool of congealing liquid, then he looked closer, and saw that there was actually a trail. A blood-drop, drip pattern, spatter-paint trail of scientist blood. Here there were several drops leading to the doorway. A few feet further were several more. The gatherings grew thicker in spots, places where the victim must have stopped to gain his strength as he made his way out of the room.
Nick followed the trail. His heart beat faster with each crimson pool, which seemed to be more frequent as the trail progressed. The victim had not sat long after his injury. The wound was obviously bleeding faster as he went along.
Nick stopped at the window, where another red stain glistened in the carpet. Only now something else seized his attention. Through the window he saw the collapsed crane, the fire, the smoke, the crowds, the ambulances and trucks.
Something more than a fire had started while he and Morgan had been hiding out upstairs.
Nick ran for the stairs, throwing the door open in the concrete stairwell, where it echoed with a metallic clang behind him. He ran down the steps, his feet barely touching the tops — in a flash he was out in the downstairs hallway — running — running — then it all came together as he ran out into the main rotunda and caught his first glimpse of the situation — a flash of masked men, and gun barrels, and people with their hands on their heads, crouching on their knees, leaning on tables. Now he knew what was happening, and he slid to a stop, turning in mid-arc to head back from where he’d come, his shoes slipping and sliding beneath him as he raced frantically in the other direction, suddenly remembering all too clearly the dreams of childhood, where a stranger comes to get you, and try as you might, your legs just won’t seem to move. Only Nick’s legs moved. Slowly but steadily his sneaker treads caught hold, and then he was rushing away, his arms pumping, a silent scream wheezing from his lips as he heard people behind him, running after in pursuit.
* * *
“These blueprints are for shit,” Ransom said.
He’d spread them out on the hood of a nearby squad car, and for the last 10 minutes had been trying to get some idea of how the building was laid out. A police officer in his early twenties approached him,
“Well, it’s confirmed. Jeff Pepper’s chopper landed on the roof at a quarter to noon.”
“Thanks, but I knew that already,” Brick shot back impatiently. The kid gave him a curious look, so he continued. “My gut told me, son. My gut told me.”
The young officer struggled to keep from rolling his eyes as he walked away.
Brick looked back at the blueprints.
“These plans are bogus. If the University actually built this place from these things, then, well, then nothing, cause I don’t believe it.”
He looked at the girl who had been hanging around. She was a hottie, hotter than Victoria even. Well, a different hot, but-
“Hey, whats yer name?” Ransom barked.
“Morgan.”
“Morgan, I need your help with these things. What I’m looking at here-” he pointed at the paper- “Isn’t matching with what I’m seeing here.” He looked up at the building.
Morgan walked over with just the right bounce and sway. Brick caught a whiff of her perfume.
College girl.
God she was hot.
Focus, Ransom. Focus.
Morgan looked at the plans carefully.
“Is this the front entry?” She circled her finger around the lower portion of the plans.
“Supposedly.”
“Well, then this is where the department offices are-”
Ransom arched an eyebrow. She was smart, too...
“-and this, this is where the labs should be,” Morgan continued, pointing to a little illustrated teddy bear icon.
Ransom leaned forward to bring the plans into focus. His eyes were shot, but he didn’t want this girl to see him in his readers.
“The labs are here?” he asked. “Where the school told the city they were putting in a daycare facility?”
Morgan shrugged her shoulders and nodded.
“Hmmm, looks like we have a little zoning violatio
n here.”
Sam Ballard walked over. “Stay on task, Ransom.”
“I’m just saying.”
Brick shrugged, turned his attention to Mark Price and Phelps, who were standing off to one side, arms crossed, discussing the matter seriously. They saw him looking and came over.
“We need to make contact with the people inside, find out what they want and see how the hostages are doing.” Phelps said.
“And how will we do that? We don’t even know how many of them there are, or who they’ve got in there,” Ransom responded.
“We’ve got to assume the worst.”
Price looked at Morgan. “It seems safe to assume they’ve got Jeff Pepper, so where would he be inside this building?”
“I'd try the Department of Immunology,” Morgan said. “Or Dr. Gupta’s “daycare” facility.”
* * *
Nick ran down the hall and took a sharp left turn into the maintenance tunnel.
He’d been through there twice before. First when he’d started at the University and was exploring the building during his lunch breaks. The second time when he and Morgan were looking for a warmer hiding spot when the weather took a chilly turn back in February. The first time he’d gotten about as far as the entrance to the furnace room before turning around and heading back to the regular hallway. The time with Morgan they’d gotten a bit further, actually finding a little back office, with a nice thick patio chaise cushion nestled into a warmly lit cubby. They hadn’t really looked around much or considered how the place had gotten there -- it just looked like it didn’t get much use -- so they’d locked the door and gone to town.
That room was what Nick was looking for now. If he could just get there, get inside, lock the door, and hide, then maybe, just maybe he could wait this thing out — whatever it was.
Jesus he was out of shape.
His feet were struggling to keep up with his body.
Maybe he’d shaken the guys behind him, but he could still hear their footsteps. They were barking things back and forth to each other. He couldn’t tell what language they were speaking. He didn’t care. What the fuck was going on?
The lights whizzed over his head like a caravan of flying saucers. The air in the tunnels was thick and wet. He could feel it belching in and out of his lungs. He tasted rust in the back of his throat.
The voices behind him were growing distant.
He’d outrun them.
Hopefully.
Now to hide and wait. Hide and wait.
His arms started flopping at his sides.
Gotta keep going.
Gotta keep going.
Run.
Gotta stop.
The hallway.
The door.
He’d found it.
Slipping into the darkened side corridor, Nick felt his way through the shadows, found the doorknob, twisted and pushed, stepped into the empty room, closed the door, slid the latch into place, and unscrewed the bulb. He slumped against the door, slid to the ground, and listened to his gasping breaths. Waiting for the sounds of footsteps.
Then sleep.
Making Contact
“What the fuck did you do, Gupta?” Renoir muttered as he shook his head.
Gupta looked at the floor and said nothing.
“These people are obviously here because of your research. Now tell us what it is you’ve been working on. It can’t possibly be a vaccine for any disease. Terrorists don’t come after folks to get vaccines.”
Gupta looked up. “It might not be a vaccine, but it could be a cure.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Jeff asked. “Do I even want to know what you’ve been spending my money on?”
“The Foundation’s money,” David interjected.
“It’s my money, David.”
“Sometimes, the only way to abolish something is... to destroy it,” Gupta stammered. “Once a disease has been defeated, one of the most common questions is whether the samples should be destroyed too.”
Pepper looked at him blanky. “Is this a joke? I didn’t grant your lab this money to find a way to destroy this virus. The idea was to save people.”
“And it might-”
Jeff stepped forward. “And what did you come up with?!”
Nina put her hand on Jeff’s shoulder, pulling him back. “Jeff. Calm.”
Jeff shrugged her hand away.
“Don’t kid yourself, Raj.” Renoir spat. “You don’t think what you’ve done is right, do you? I can see it in the way you’re acting. I hear it in your voice. You’ve stopped strutting around like a rooster, the way you usually act when you sense the Nobel is within reach.” Renoir’s face was growing red, even as his features fell in pain. He squeezed his hands around the bloody fabric on his leg. “Hell, you’ve been as secretive as a White House flunky.”
“And about as competent,” Jeff added.
Gupta was quiet.
“Listen, we’ve got to remember two things here. Three if you really want to get into it,” David hissed. “First, these guys are here for a reason. They didn’t come here to hole up in the building all day. They want to get in, get what they need, and get out. Second, the place is surrounded with police and fire, which means these guys have their backs to the wall. The longer they wait to make a run for it, the harder it’s gonna be for them.”
“And what’s the third thing?” Jeff asked.
“The third thing is you.”
“What about me?”
“You’re the ultimate monkey wrench. Once they find out who you are, who knows what their plan will be?”
“That might not be such a good thing!” Jeff said sharply.
“He’s right though,” Nina interjected.
Jeff’s mouth tightened. “Who gives a fuck who I am? We’re all in this together. Sooner or later we’ve got to convince these guys to leave us here and hit the road.”
“What do you think they’re waiting for?” Nina asked. “What do they need before they can go?”
“What we need?” Tim’s voice echoed behind them. “What we need is a demonstration.”
The group looked at him. He and Simon had crossed half a room’s length toward them.
“A demonstration of what?” Renoir asked.
“You know very well what. Dr. Gupta’s little invention here. My new tool.”
“Tool, or weapon?” Renoir replied, his eyes again locking on Raj.
“Whatever you prefer. Just so long as it works.”
“It works.” Gupta said.
“So I’ve been told, but I need to know for sure.”
“Then use it on one of your buddies here,” David said with a nod towards the gunmen by the door.
“Well now, that wouldn’t make much sense,” Tim said, tapping his fingers on the side of a workbench. “I was thinking of using it on the good doctor, but maybe I’ll just test it on you.”
David froze, and Jeff stood up. “For fuck’s sake, stop talking and just get the hell out of here with the stuff, whatever the hell it is.”
Tim looked at him coldly. “My, my. Calm yourself, sir. Maybe you’d like to be the guinea pig yourself?”
* * *
“So we know Pepper was meeting with Raj Gupta today-” Ransom was pacing back and forth in front of the building blueprints.
“And Gupta’s offices are in the wing that’s now locked down,” Phelps continued. “Should we assume there’s a connection?”
Ransom looked up. “You thinking a kidnapping, ransom situation?”
“It seems like a possibility.”
“So, what do we do? Wait for them to contact us, or start calling every phone in the building?”
“Well, lets go about this logically. If he was meeting with Gupta, lets call the places Gupta would be.” Phelps turned to Morgan. “Do you know any of Gupta’s office and lab numbers?”
“That cheapskate?” Morgan snorted. “Are you kidding me?”
Phelps and Ransom waited for her to finish.
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“I know them all,” she went on. “He’d always have me call his relatives on the school number and patch him in so he didn’t have to pay for long distance from home. When he’s traveling he always calls the toll-free numbers and has us forward the calls to his labs so he doesn’t have to use up any grant money.”
“And what are the numbers?” Ransom asked, as he held up his cell phone.
“34545 and 31955,” Morgan rattled off.
Ransom started typing them into his handset.
“Hold it Ransom,” Phelps stepped in. “I’m still in charge here. I call.”
* * *
Jeff stared the man in the eyes. “You wanna test it on me? Go ahead.”
“Suit yourself,” Tim responded.
Tim nodded towards Pepper, and two of the men by the door came over, putting their hands on Jeff’s shoulders and pulling him towards the middle of the room.
“Dr. Gupta,” Tim continued. “We’ll need your help on this.”
Gupta caught his breath, then rose unsteadily to his feet.
“Where have you been placing the test subjects?”
Gupta pointed to the far end of the room, where a glass panel looked in on a dimly lit white room with a single stool inside.
“Put him in there,” Tim grumbled.
The two men followed Tim’s orders. Jeff’s body went rigid, but he didn’t fight.
“You’re making a mistake,” Jeff said through gritted teeth. “You don’t need to test anything. You just need to get the fuck out of here.”
“Plenty of time for both,” Tim replied.
“I don’t think so.”
“If the doctor’s results work as well as we’ve heard, we’ll have plenty of time to spare.”
Tim walked over to a thick door at the end of the room, looked down at a panel of keys by the handle, then pushed a single green button. The door opened with a soft hiss of air, and the men started pushing Jeff inside.
“Might as well loosen your tie and get comfortable,” Tim said as he walked away. “Dr. Gupta, close the door and get started.”
Gupta moved slowly, gathering his wits about him. He approached the portal slowly, reaching up with his hand-
“Gupta! You’re a fucking coward!” Renoir shouted at him.
“You’re kissing your career goodbye,” Nina added.
Billionaires, Bullets, Exploding Monkeys (A Brick Ransom Adventure) Page 8