by Matt Coleman
The second floor was, for the most part, a carbon copy of the first. A concessions counter stretched around in sort of an octagon in the center lobby area. At each corner of the octagon, a hallway led off to numbered theater doors. Cary looked for exits to the outside. If Bright Hudson was on her way, Cary’s best chance of flagging her down before Thompson caught up with either of them was to be outside. But the second floor didn’t appear to have any.
A security guard over by a popcorn station caught Cary’s eye. He was staring at her. Too much. She worked her way around the concession counter until she was at a popcorn station across from him, as far away as she could get. The guard tapped fingers on a gun holster at his hip and listened to a radio he had been speaking into a moment earlier. Cary cursed under her breath and turned her back to the guard. A young girl was next to her putting oily butter all over her little brother’s popcorn. The girl’s own popcorn was sitting precariously on the edge of the counter. Cary pretended to reach for a napkin and elbowed the container of popcorn so it went flying out into the floor. The girl’s mother started into a chorus of “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it,” before Cary could offer any apology. Tinseltown employees flocked over to offer the little girl more popcorn, and Cary used the cover to slip down a hallway.
She ducked into an alcove with a bottled water vending machine. Within seconds, a manager hurried to a supply closet and used his keys to retrieve a broom and dust pan, leaving the door cracked open. Cary trotted over to the closet and stepped in and around to one side. She had made pointed eye contact with the security guard as she slid into the closet. He would be walking through the door and into the tiny room within ten seconds. Cary pawed around on the shelves until she found an industrial sized jug of hand soap. She tugged the bottle down and held it against her body with one arm, using her hand not clutching the disc to wrench off its cap. She tipped it up and poured soap all over the entrance to the supply closet and leaned back into one corner.
On cue, the guard took one bumbling step into the closet and his foot shot out from under him. He grabbed at the doorjamb, but overcorrected and ended up going face first into a series of three shelves straight in front of him. Ending up on his back in an awkward position, he looked up at Cary and tried to shake a flood of cobwebs from the corners of his eyes. Cary gingerly knelt and, making sure to avoid the soap, slid his gun from his belt. The guard reached for her feebly, but his head was fuzzy from the fall and his feet were still slipping around and throwing off his feeble balance. Cary cocked her head at him and offered, “I’m so sorry.” She hopped over the patch of soap and pushed the door shut behind her, hurrying off down the hallway of theaters before anyone noticed what had happened.
Chapter 49
Sameer emerged from the crowd feeling like he sprung up from underwater. He took a breath and found a girl in a Tinseltown vest and a security guard talking right in front of him. They both froze and glowered at him. Sameer flashed the ticket stub and asked sheepishly, “May I go look for my phone? I believe I left it.”
The girl smiled and stepped aside. The security guard nodded and said, “Let me know if you need a flashlight.”
Sameer passed them with nods to both and a thank you to the guard. He glanced back to ensure they returned to their conversation. Working his way down the curved hallway, he passed multiple theaters, but couldn’t find a way to get across to the lobby. Each time, he would peek in to see if a movie was in process. Almost every time, there was, which meant he ducked back out to avoid drawing attention. The one time no movie was playing, a crew was cleaning and he pretended to search for and find his phone.
His limited sense of direction told him he had made his way around to the back of the entire complex. This was reinforced by the cluster of four exit doors marked with large red signs declaring, “Employee Only. Reentry by Key Code Only.”
This stretch of hallway was deserted, so he stopped to call Detective Hudson. He had to warn her about Detective Thompson, even though he was not entirely sure what it was about Detective Thompson which required forewarning. He dialed the number and she answered on the first ring.
“Detective Hudson. It is Sameer. We apparently have a problem.”
Chapter 50
When Mark Thompson flashed his badge at the door, one pock-marked kid had the nerve to step in front of him and try to examine it more closely. Mark rolled his eyes and shouldered pat the kid. Once inside he trotted toward a group of girls wearing navy sweatsuits. He grabbed a couple of brunettes by the shoulder, spinning them around before feebly apologizing. After the third girl, a middle-aged Latina woman stepped between Mark and the girls and held a hand into his chest. “Excuse me. What do you think you’re doing?”
Mark flashed his badge and looked past her into the crowd.
The woman craned herself up into his line of sight. “I don’t care if you’re the FBI. It doesn’t give you the right to put your hands on my girls.”
Mark snapped back to the moment and flashed a grin in place of the badge. “I’m so sorry. I got carried away. Let me start this over. Do you mind?”
The woman squinted at him and crossed her arms.
Mark placed one hand on his chest. “I’m Detective Mark Thompson. I am pursuing a very dangerous woman who is dressed in a similar fashion to your girls. I’m afraid she may have used the similarity to sneak into the theater. And I would like to find her before she hurts anyone.”
The woman lowered her arms and looked around nervously.
Mark nodded. “It’s okay. Just tell me where all your girls may have gone.”
She glanced around. “Most are here. Getting snacks. A few split off to go to the restroom.”
Mark pointed in each direction while raising his eyebrows at her. She pointed to her right, his left. Mark turned and started that way, looking back at her. “Do you mind accompanying me to make sure it’s only your girls in the restroom?”
“Of course,” she replied, hurrying after him.
As the woman stepped into the bathroom, calling out to her girls, Mark heard a commotion from above him. Behind him was an escalator, so he hurried over and rode up. As he neared the top, a Tinseltown manager came running toward him. “Are you a cop? You look like a cop. Are you?”
Mark stepped off the escalator nodding. “Yeah. I’m a cop. What happened?”
The manager motioned toward a security guard who was being helped over to a bench by two men. “Some girl knocked him out. She took his gun. She has a gun. Do I need to evacuate the theater?”
Mark walked past him and called back. “No. You need to tell me which way she went.”
Chapter 51
Shelley and Marlowe each hurriedly bought tickets and found each other on the other side of the entrance. Shelley pointed toward an escalator over to their right. “Take the second level. Work your way east. I’ll scan this level and come up on the east side and meet you.”
Marlowe nodded and started away before stopping and looking back. “East is—”
Shelley rolled her eyes and pointed left. “That way. Yes.”
Marlowe shrugged and nodded. “I’m just calibrating. Like, getting synchronized, you know.”
They took off in their respective directions. Marlowe hurried up the escalator, slipping past several people who called after him with a choice word or two. Upstairs, the concession area bustled with the aftermath of some sort of accident. Marlowe eased his way toward the center of the action and found a security guard being helped out of a supply closet. He couldn’t worm his way close enough to pick up everything, but he did overhear something about a girl and ciphered some pointing down a hallway. Marlowe smiled and shook his head, mumbling, “Cary,” under his breath.
The ruckus had drawn most of the employees from down the hallway, so Marlowe was able to step into each theater and do a quick scan. The crowds were sparse. Each movie on this hallway was a classic—lots of black and white, some film noir, a western or two, a couple of Hitchcock.
/> About the seventh theater down, when Marlowe stepped back out, Mark Thompson bounded down the hallway toward him. Marlowe ducked back into the theater and scrambled up toward the empty balcony seats. Only a handful of people populated the theater at all, but no one sat in the balcony. He slid down between a row of seats and pulled out his phone. Shelley’s number was the easiest to hit quickly, so he dialed it and waited while peering up over a seat at the entrance to the theater.
Shelley answered out of breath. Marlowe watched Mark Thompson step up the entrance ramp and start looking up and down rows. He breathed into the phone in a muted whisper, “I think I’m in a theater. I’m not sure which one. Somewhere between number ten and number fourteen. It’s Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Detective Thompson followed me in. I need you to get here fast.”
Shelley’s voice grew shaky from running. “On my way. Stay out of sight. I’ll be right there.”
Thompson worked his way into the balcony. Marlowe slid back in a crouch. Looking behind him, he found a dead end. Without going over seats, he was trapped. Thompson rounded the edge of Marlowe’s aisle and smiled. Thompson nodded and pulled out his gun. Marlowe went ahead and stood up, holding his hands out in a calming gesture.
Marlowe and Thompson both glanced down at the handful of oblivious moviegoers. They looked back at each other. There was no way he could shoot him here. But Thompson glanced over at the screen and smiled back at Marlowe. Marlowe frowned and looked over. Robert Redford and Paul Newman readied themselves for the final shootout. In a matter of seconds, the whole theater would erupt in the sound of gunfire.
Chapter 52
When Bright pulled around behind the theater, the back parking lot was deserted except for one cop who appeared to be walking the perimeter. She pulled up next to him and rolled down her window, flashing her badge. “Did you call it in?”
He squinted at the ID next to her badge. “Yeah. Detective Hudson? You’re the one they asked for.”
Bright nodded and threw her car into park right where it sat. She jumped out and motioned for the cop to hurry. “Can you get me in from back here?”
He pointed up ahead. “This cluster of doors in an employee entrance. I can’t open it, but I can call for somebody to let you in.”
Bright ran ahead while the cop fumbled with his radio. As she got to the doors, her phone rang. She jerked the phone to her ear and the voice on the other end said, “Detective Hudson. It is Sameer. We apparently have a problem.”
Bright stopped. “Sameer. Where are you?”
“A Detective Thompson is here now.”
Bright walked a little farther, stopping at the set of doors. “I know, Sameer. Where are you?”
“Cary is afraid of him. I think he is bad.”
Bright sighed. “Yes, Sameer. He is. Where are you?”
“I am at a set of four doors. An employee entrance at the back of the theater.”
Bright shook her head and knocked on the doors.
“Wait. Someone is knocking on the doors.” Sameer pushed a door open.
Bright waggled her phone and stepped inside.
Sameer hung his head and put his phone away. “I promise I am usually quicker than this.”
Bright looked back with a patronizing smile. “Don’t worry. I have that effect on people.” As Bright hit end on her call with Sameer, the phone rang again. Bright looked down and saw Shelley’s name on the screen. “Shelley? What’s wrong?”
Shelley was out of breath, panting and shaking the phone while running. “Thompson. He’s in a theater with Marlowe.”
Bright tugged Sameer by the arm and started moving. “Where?”
“He’s not sure. It’s somewhere between ten and fourteen.”
Bright barked, “I’ll take fourteen. You take ten. Work our way together.” And they both hung up.
An employee came rounding a corner and jumped as Bright shoved her badge in his face and yelled, “Get me to theater fourteen now!”
Chapter 53
Cary kept running down the hallway, hoping for some way to go down. She felt like one of those women in a horror movie who keeps going upstairs when she should be two blocks away. As she came to the end of the hallway, she had nowhere left to go. She looked over to her right and found a young man in a Tinseltown vest using an employee keycard to open an elevator.
She hurried over and jumped on with him just ahead of the doors. His face went from startled to bored and he said, “This elevator is for employees only. You’ll need to use the escalators in the main lobby.”
Cary pulled the gun out and grinned. “I’m sorry. But I need to use the elevator right now.”
The man jumped back, dropping the box of Raisinets he was eating. “Okay. Okay. You don’t have to do that.”
Cary pointed at the buttons with the gun. There were only three. She said, “First floor.” But before the man could hit the button, Cary did a double take. “Wait. What’s on the third floor?”
His voice shook. “The projection booth.”
Cary frowned and glanced at the disc in her hand. “Do you know how to work it?”
The man nodded.
Cary shook the gun at him. “Floor three. Go.”
The projection booth was empty. It was an expansive room, whirring with projectors connected to huge black towers full of blinking lights and touch screens. Cary waved the disc in the man’s face. “Can you make them play this?”
The man came out of his fright long enough to roll his eyes. “These are seventy-five-thousand-dollar, state-of-the-art digital projectors. It’s not a Blu-ray player. They have 4K capabilities and—”
Cary leveled the gun toward his face. “Can you make them play this?”
The man gulped. “You must really like James Bond.”
“Can you?”
He nodded. “There’s a computer override. I can use it to link in and convince the projectors to perform a test of the emergency notification system we built in after—”
Cary shook the gun.
He recoiled. “Which one?”
Cary looked around at the multiple projectors. “All of them.”
Chapter 54
Sameer ran after Bright as an employee led both of them up a dark set of stairs to the second floor. They came out in a hallway leading to numbered doors. The employee pointed to the first door on their left with the glowing number fourteen hanging above it. Bright took off for the door while Sameer mumbled a thanks to the man.
The theater was showing The Big Sleep. The seats held a smattering of ten or twelve people. Bright came running out after doing a quick scan. Sameer shook his head. “I don’t know who we’re looking for.”
Bright looked past him, causing Sameer to turn around. A woman ran toward them with a gun drawn, held close to her body to keep it somewhat concealed. Bright pointed. “Her brother.”
The woman nodded to them and ducked into theater number ten.
Sameer looked at Bright. “What do we do?”
Bright shook her head. “This is too slow. You ever yelled ‘Fire’ in a theater before?”
Sameer cocked his head. “Once. I had turned seven a few days earlier. And my mother had taken me to see to see Jumanji. I can’t remember her ever spanking me as hard as she did—” He nodded once. “And we can share the story later. I’ll take twelve, you take thirteen.”
* * *
Mark held his gun with both hands. The people below were locked in on the screen in front of them. Marlowe’s hands twitched and he glanced back and forth, looking for a nonexistent escape route. Mark snuck glances at the screen. Robert Redford steadily loaded his gun. Paul Newman crouched, ready to run.
Finally, Redford snapped, “Go!” And the theater’s lifelike speakers blasted gunfire.
Mark fired off one shot as Marlowe hurled himself forward over two rows of seats. He twisted around and found Marlowe scrambling to his feet. Before trying again, Mark looked down into the theater. The distraction worked. His shot got lost in th
e riotous gunfire of the film.
But the screen had gone quiet. Paul Newman was easing up toward some horses and Robert Redford was quietly readying for another round. Mark and Marlowe eyed each other in the silence, waiting. Marlowe inched down the aisle toward the exit. Mark waited and bit down on his lip to keep from shooting too soon.
Again, gunfire sounded from all sides of them. Mark bore down on his aim, waiting to track Marlowe’s move. Marlowe went down and to the right. As Mark followed him, he saw a flash out of the corner of his eye. Something hit him in the side and spun him around. He caught himself on the seat in front of him and looked up to find Shelley standing at the entrance ramp, gun drawn.
Mark started to raise his gun, but the theater suddenly went silent. Everything stopped. Mark, Marlowe, and Shelley all three turned to look at the screen. What had been Butch Cassidy seconds ago was now replaced with shaky homemade footage from the city. The film looked like it had been taken by a cell phone. Maybe by someone trying to hide as they recorded.
* * *
Bright ducked into theater thirteen as Sameer took off for theater twelve. She could hear him screaming “Fire” and the commotion beginning. She stepped in with her badge and gun both out. “I need everyone to quietly and calmly exit the theater! We have a report of an emergency!”
Although confused, the crowd started working their way to the exits with only a murmur. Bright turned to start out when the screen flashed and changed. It had been The Wild Bunch, she thought, but suddenly it was a shot of an underpass in town.
Everyone stopped and stared. Bright recognized the two standing figures on the giant screen. Thompson and Jolly stood looming over a man in handcuffs. She recognized him, too.