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Escape from Danger

Page 15

by Linsey Lanier


  She hadn’t heard anything from Simon in a while, but she couldn’t tell how long it had been. Say something, she thought. But there was nothing in her earring.

  How much time did they have? she wondered, feeling the hard steady beat of her pulse in her throat. Simon could come through that door with Fischer any moment.

  She wished she could tell him she wasn’t ready yet. But it was useless to hope for the impossible. She had to concentrate.

  All she knew was she had to hurry.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Simon looked around the room Fischer had taken him to.

  It was clean, elegant, expensively furnished, and faintly smelled of cologne. On one side sat an overstuffed couch with a tray full of dainties on the coffee table in front of it, including champagne and two flutes, A luxurious bed stood on the other side. The things that must go on here made him sick. But he didn’t dare show it.

  Hands in his pockets, he turned to Fischer. “So this is it?”

  “What were you expecting?”

  “What we agreed upon downstairs.”

  The man studied Simon a long moment. “And what is it exactly you thought we agreed to?”

  Fischer wanted him to say it. Simon had wanted him to say it first, but this would work.

  He turned and made sure his glasses were angled so the camera would take in Fischer’s expression. “A boy. I heard you sold them for...services.”

  Fischer’s thin lips turned up in a debauched grin. “I’ll need payment first.”

  That wasn’t the process Gomez had described in the backroom of Casa Ale last night. But Simon decided to go along. “How much?”

  He stated the price. “That’s for one night.”

  Simon didn’t wince, though he wanted to. Instead, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a wad of cash, and counted out the thousand peso notes, glad that Torres had guessed the right amount and that he’d had enough in the police emergency fund to cover it.

  He handed the money to Fischer, making sure his camera caught the exchange. “Here you go.”

  Fischer put it in his pocket, then took out his phone and put it to his ear. “Zakhar, I need you in Suite A.”

  Simon tensed. Zakhar. Fischer had used the Ukrainian name. He was about to meet El Puño. The Fist. The man who was bigger than Ponce. Why?

  He feigned annoyance. “What’s all this about?”

  “Patience, Mr. Rodriguez. It’s simply standard protocol, I assure you.”

  Simon strolled over to the coffee table and popped a strawberry in his mouth. “I don’t like my time wasted, Mr. Fischer.”

  Fischer only studied him harder. Simon wasn’t sure he hadn’t seen through this ruse. Maybe because he didn’t have the expected air of sleaze, though he’d tried to fake it.

  Then the door opened and one of the largest men Simon had ever seen lumbered in.

  He had to be at least six-eight. Weight maybe three-thirty. With a shaved head, a short beard, and bushy dark brows, just his scowl was intimidating. Under his tux, his shoulders and arms were huge, and Simon wondered how much it cost to clothe him.

  “Yes, sir?” Zakhar said in a chilling Ukrainian accent.

  Fischer took the money Simon had given him out of his pocket and handed it to the man. “Add this to tonight’s delivery.”

  “Yes, Mr. Fischer.”

  “It has to be in Athens by tomorrow night.”

  Athens. Was the new head of Santana’s operation in Greece?

  “It will be, Mr. Fischer.”

  “This is our new guest, Mr. Rodriguez. He has just made a purchase.”

  Zakhar didn’t answer.

  “What do you think of him?”

  The huge man seemed confused by the question. “I’m not sure what you mean, Mr. Fischer.”

  He was used to doing what he was told, not thinking on his own.

  “Never mind. You’re dismissed. And don’t forget the delivery.”

  “No, sir. I won’t.”

  As he left the room Simon understood his presence here had been to intimidate him in case he decided to try anything.

  Fischer turned to him with another oily smile. “Very well, Mr. Rodriguez. Wait here and I’ll get your purchase.”

  That wasn’t the way it was supposed to work. “Just a minute.”

  “Is there a problem?”

  “I don’t get to see them first? To choose from among them? I understand you have several.” He had to make sure Janey was gone. He had to make sure Fischer didn’t escape. He couldn’t let the man out of his sight.

  Fischer’s brow rose, as if he were wondering how Simon knew that. “We have a selection of the very best. Any of them will do.”

  “I have very particular tastes.”

  Fischer eyed Simon with a look that was getting icier by the minute. Something was wrong. If Gomez had correctly described standard operating procedure last night, Fischer wasn’t following it.

  Whether because he was suspicious or because he wanted to fleece an American, Simon couldn’t tell. But he had to keep playing along.

  At last the man nodded. “Very well, Mr. Rodriguez. I wouldn’t want a new customer to be disappointed. It’s this way.”

  Once again hoping Janey was finished and gone with the boys, Simon followed his gracious host through the door and into the hall.

  Chapter Forty

  Finally her knife went through the last rope. Janelle tossed it aside and turned to help Alejandro. But he was already done. The boy he’d been working on wriggled out from his bonds and stood up, yawning.

  The one whose ropes she’d just cut through was still sprawled on the armrest of the settee. She put the blade back into her holster and patted his cheeks. “C’mon now, honey. Wake up.”

  His eyes fluttered open and he smiled up at her. “Are you an angel come to rescue us?”

  “I hope so.” Feeling touched, she helped him to his feet.

  “What do we do now, Señora Rodriguez?” Alejandro said.

  Now came the hard part.

  According to the layout Torres had shown her and Simon last night, behind those heavy curtains were tall arched windows. One of the windows was a glass door that led to the outside balcony. The balcony was set off on either side by a matching pair of winding exterior staircases—the designer must have had a thing for them.

  Last night it had looked like the most obvious way out, but Simon hadn’t liked it. They would be too exposed.

  She could see that now.

  Instead, Torres had pointed out a second service elevator on the far side of the room next to this one. It was far too risky to step out into the hall, especially when Simon could be out there with Fischer by now.

  She had heard him bargaining with the man and knew they were coming this way.

  Last night Torres had assured her there was a small secret room behind the mirrors to the left. The room had another secret door that opened into the neighboring parlor. All she had to do was find the door, get across that parlor, find the other service elevator, and take it down to the ground floor and outside where Torres and whoever he’d managed to bring with him would be waiting.

  Ushering seven little boys like a sheepdog as she went.

  She could do it. “Follow me,” she whispered to Alejandro.

  Rising she stepped over to the row of mirrors. They were gilded like the others, and angled due to the shape of the room on the perimeter of the rotunda. The reflections of the mirrors on the opposite wall made a strange fun-house like effect in the darkness.

  Which panel was it?

  The one near the window, she guessed. She put her hand against the carved frame, and pushed.

  Nothing.

  Wasn’t that one the mirror opposite the service elevator? She turned around to study it.

  Rubbing his eyes, Diego climbed off the settee. “Where are we going, Señora?”

  “You’ll see in a minute.” She selected another mirror and pushed against it.

  Still no
thing.

  Had Torres’s layout been wrong?

  Her heartbeat picking up, she moved to the mirror in the middle of the wall and pushed. This one opened. Relieved, she peeked inside.

  It was a dark space, about the size of a walk-in closet. Light switch? She felt around along the inner wall.

  Yes. She pressed the button, hoping she wasn’t setting off an alarm. A dim light in an unfinished ceiling came on. It wasn’t much, but it would do.

  She turned back to the boys. “We’re going in here.”

  “Are we going to hide?” said the smallest boy.

  “No, honey. There’s another door that leads to a room with an elevator. We have to get there.”

  Two more of the boys came around the settee. They still looked sleepy.

  “C’mon, boys. We have to hurry.” She was sure Simon and Fischer were going to walk through the door any minute.

  Alejandro began to wave his arms. “You heard her, amigos. Apurarse.”

  The boys started to move, their feet sounding like thunder on the floor.

  “Shh,” Janelle screeched in a whisper. “Move quietly. Like little mice.”

  They nodded and began to tiptoe, smiling at her as they filed into the closet-like space.

  Janelle did a quick head count, stepped inside the secret room, and closed the door behind her.

  One of the boys pushed against the opposite wall. “Where is the other door?”

  Janelle studied the space. It was empty and smelled of dust. What she could see of the wall facing the adjoining parlor was unfinished wood framing. She tried to find the semblance of a handle, but there was none.

  She stepped over to a section and pushed against it with her arm. It didn’t budge. Another guessing game, she thought, feeling annoyed. She tried a little farther down and got the same result.

  Then she realized nails had been pounded into the boards at an odd angle. They must have renovated since the layouts had been drawn and closed off the passage to the other room.

  They were trapped.

  “Look, Señora Rodriguez.” Alejandro was standing at the far edge of the closet, hidden in the darkness.

  “What is it?”

  “It is a staircase. It goes upstairs.”

  Janelle stepped closer. Sure enough a steep wooden staircase led up into the ceiling, turned, and disappeared overhead.

  “That’s the way out.” Diego brushed past her and began to scramble up the steps.

  “No, don’t go up there.”

  Ignoring her, the little boy disappeared into the ceiling. Then there was a creaking noise, and she heard his voice. “It’s a trap door. C’mon everyone.”

  “No, you can’t just rush up there.” She had no idea where it led or who might be waiting for them on the other side. Probably a guard.

  But the boys pushed past her and climbed up the stairs.

  “Be quiet,” she hissed at them. The noise stopped when they were all out of sight.

  Alejandro was the only one left at the bottom of the stairs. “Did you not hear the Señora?” he told them.

  Then he turned and raised his palms, looking up at her helplessly.

  She had to follow them. It was the only thing she could think of. If there was a guard up there, she had her Glock.

  She had just stepped toward the stairs when Simon’s voice trickled into her ear. “This better be as good as I’ve heard, Fischer.”

  His voice was loud. They were in the room.

  She froze, not daring to make a sound.

  Simon was supposed to act disgruntled and leave. Torres and his people were supposed to come up the exterior stairs, through the balcony door, and arrest Fischer and his men. But if Torres had heard everything, he knew the boys weren’t where they were supposed to be. They weren’t out of the building.

  They weren’t safe.

  And then she looked down and saw Alejandro staring up at her with wide frightened eyes.

  She pressed her finger to her lips.

  He mimicked her and nodded.

  Slowly, she reached under her skirts and drew out her Glock from her thigh holster.

  The only thing she could do now was to wait.

  Chapter Forty-One

  “Now why would my services be anything less than outstanding?” Fischer pressed a button on the wall and a chandelier flooded the room with light.

  Instantly Simon spotted the open crates in the corner and the crowbars lying on the floor beside them.

  But the salon was empty.

  She wasn’t here. Neither were the boys. Simon had to keep from exhaling aloud in relief.

  “Here they are, six fine specimens, any of whom could delight you. Take your pick.” With outstretched arms, Fischer strode across the floor and around one of the two settees.

  Then he stopped cold and stared down at the furniture.

  The expression on his face was something Simon would cherish for a long time. The shock, the jolt, the outrage. He could almost taste the emotions.

  “Something wrong?”

  Unable to speak for a moment, Fischer kicked at one of the bits of rope on the floor.

  Janey had cut through them neatly and left the mess for someone else to clean up.

  Fischer began to fumble for the pocket of his tux, presumably to call for help, when the mirrored door near the crates opened and Ponce appeared, a dessert pastry in his hand.

  “Ponce!” Fischer barked. “What in the hell is going on here?”

  Ponce stepped out of the elevator, put the pastry into his mouth, and trudged over. Staring down at the ropes on the floor, he struggled to swallow as his eyes turned to huge round marbles. “The little boys. They are gone.”

  “Yes, you moron. You were supposed to stand guard.”

  “They were asleep. I just went down to get a snack.”

  “You and your snacks.”

  “Someone freed them.”

  “Brilliant deduction. You have to find them. They couldn’t have gotten far.”

  They had to have gotten far enough. They had to be with Torres and his men by now.

  Simon shook his head and forced out a laugh. “Your operation seems to be a little shoddy here. I think I’ll pass for tonight. I’ll see your man downstairs for my refund.”

  He took a step toward the door, then stopped.

  “Wait. What’s this?” Ponce wiped his hands on the legs of his trousers, bent down and picked something up off the floor. Something with sequins.

  Janey’s handbag. Simon’s gut went hard.

  Fischer glared at the purse. “There was a woman in here?”

  Ponce opened the bag and pulled out the lock picking probe Simon had given her. “She got in here with this.” He rifled through the bag again and this time came up with a card. Janey’s fake DNI card.

  He read it. “Maria Rodriguez?”

  As the words came out of Ponce’s mouth, Fischer reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a handgun, and pointed it at Simon. “Just a moment, Mister Rodriguez.”

  Simon raised his hands and attempted to keep up the ruse. “What are you saying? It’s a common name. I don’t know her. It’s not my fault your man lost a bunch of boys. Put that gun away.”

  Ponce shook the card in the air. “I did not lose the boys. This Maria Rodriguez stole them.”

  “I said, I don’t know her.”

  Fischer began to circle him, getting nearer with his gun. At first Simon thought he was blocking the exit. Then he realized Fischer was turning around to face the mirrors on the other wall.

  Of course, he knew about the secret passage that led to the adjoining parlor. But Janey and the boys weren’t there.

  And then Fischer’s eyes glistened.

  Simon turned his head and saw the handprint smudges she’d left on the mirror.

  Fischer nodded to Ponce.

  Ponce nodded back and approached the door.

  Simon felt himself start to sweat. Janey and the boys were gone by now, weren’t they? They ha
d to be. Dear God, let them be gone.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Janelle’s heart was pounding so hard, she felt sick.

  Her instinct told her to take Alejandro and run up those stairs. But she couldn’t do that without making noise and giving her hiding place away. Besides, she couldn’t leave Simon behind. Not with Fischer’s gun pointed at him.

  And why had everything suddenly gone silent?

  If it weren’t for Alejandro, she would have come out shooting as soon as she’d heard the name “Maria Rodriguez.”

  Maybe they’d left. Did she dare check? It was the only thing she could think of right now.

  She was about to whisper to Alejandro to huddle in the corner and stay down when the door swung open. Before she could react, a thick hairy hand latched onto her wrist like a lobster and yanked her into the room.

  The light from the chandelier blinded her.

  She didn’t dare fire her gun. She couldn’t see and she had lost her balance. She didn’t know where Simon was.

  Instead she tried to kick out at her attacker with a Taekwondo move she’d learned at the Agency, but before she got her leg up, he grabbed her around the waist and twisted her arm until she yelped and dropped her gun.

  Then he threw her to the floor.

  Blinking in the light, she looked up at him. It was Ponce, of course.

  He was so much bigger, so much faster, so much more agile than she’d assumed he’d be. Never underestimate your enemy.

  Wiping the crumbs still on his mouth, he bent down, retrieved her weapon from the floor and turned it on her.

  “Where are the boys?” he growled.

  Thinking fast, she sat up, rubbed her wrist and gave him an outraged glare. “What boys? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “What were you doing in the secret closet?”

  She turned her head and saw Fischer leering at her. She didn’t dare look at Simon, but she knew he was a few feet behind Fischer, watching her carefully, waiting for an opportunity.

  Go with gold digger, she decided. “I came up here with a guy I met downstairs. He wanted to get it on. Then he admitted he didn’t have a lot of money, and so I told him I changed my mind. He got mad and tossed me in there.” She nodded toward the secret room. “What kind of a place are you running here, anyway?”

 

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