We glanced around the room before checking out the other one. I thought they looked the same, but Doug was convinced the first one was bigger.
We returned to it and Doug shut the blinds. Then he put his briefcase on the table. After opening it, he pulled out the binoculars.
“Okay,” he said to Curtis through the earpiece, “we’re in the western room.”
“Glixima Tower is to your right,” Curtis said.
Doug held the binoculars to his eyes and twisted the knob on top right a few times. Then he kept shifting his gaze right until he stopped cold. “Got it.” He remained still for a few minutes. “I can’t see anyone we know on this floor. I’m going higher.” He tilted his head up and kept going.
“Anything?” Curtis said.
He didn’t answer but kept shifting his gaze higher. Then he stopped. “Gotcha.”
I leaned into him, excited. “What is it?”
He grimaced. “I see Carrie. … That guy Lorenzo is there, too. And … Hang on … Jarrod.” He faced me. “They’re all there.”
“But no Michael?” I said, disappointed. I didn’t know if I’d hoped he’d be there just to know he was alive or so I’d be able to say he was the Orchestrator.
Doug nodded. “We may be wrong.”
“Which floor?” Curtis said.
Doug looked through the binoculars again. “Seventieth, I think.”
“What’re they doing?” I asked.
He held his hand up. “They’ve just sat down. Some sort of meeting, I guess.”
“Fine,” Curtis said. “What about the top two floors?”
Doug tilted his head up, and another grimace formed on his face. “I can’t see through them.” He wound the knob a number of times, but the frown never left his face.
“What do you mean?” Curtis said.
“The binoculars can’t get past the walls. It’s fine everywhere else but the top two floors.”
“Let me see.” I took them from him and looked. He was right—I could see through every other floor like I was there, but the top two floors were blocked by some sort of thick metal wall. I turned the knob on top of the binoculars three times, but the wall remained. I sighed in frustration and handed the binoculars back to Doug. “He’s right,” I said to Curtis. “We can’t see in there at all.”
I could feel Curtis thinking. “It’s looking more and more likely that the portal is in there.”
“I agree,” Doug said. “Or something they want to hide at least.”
“Okay,” Curtis said. “Let them have their meeting. We’ll wait till they leave and then we’ll go in.”
“Is that a good idea?” I said.
Doug looked at me as if I were crazy. “What, you want to go in with them there?”
“No. I was thinking about the innocent people in there. Isn’t it better we go just before end of business? At least that way most of the workers will be out of there before the madness starts.”
There was silence for a few seconds, and then Curtis spoke. “Okay, fine. But you can’t stay up there till then, Rachel. They’ll get suspicious downstairs.”
“It’s fine.” Doug nodded at me. “You go back to the car. I’ll stay here and keep an eye on them.”
I nodded and walked out of the room. The receptionist on the sixty-fifth floor was too busy talking on the phone and doing her makeup to notice me. I rode the elevator back to the ground floor. The receptionists there stopped their chitchat when they saw me.
I walked toward them with a smile this time. “Thank you,” I said.
They looked surprised for a moment, and then they beamed at me. I smiled back and walked out of the building. I stood outside for a moment to catch my breath. I couldn’t believe I’d pulled off the deception.
I guess I’m more of a liar than I thought.
I laughed to myself and headed toward South Olive Street. I tapped on the window of the SUV and Curtis let me in.
We didn’t hear much from Doug for most of the morning. Curtis and I took a short walk to a small diner on West Fourth Street at noon for lunch. I had chicken salad. Curtis had a half-pounder and a big portion of fries. He was smiling every time I eyed him shoving the huge burger into his mouth.
“So, what’s it like in 2086?” I said. “Are there any free humans left?”
He shrugged. “Are people free here in 2013? Some people will say they’re not. With mobile technology and the Internet, I think it’s fair to say the world is already under martial law.”
I guess he’s right in a way, but then again, it could be argued that he’s wrong, too.
I put a cherry tomato in my mouth and chewed. Curtis bit another chunk of his burger.
“So is there a special someone back home?” I said.
He laughed. “Not for a long time. The things I do don’t really allow for that.”
“Really? No one?”
He nodded.
“Someone you like? Come on. There has to be a special lady.” I leaned forward. “Imagine you weren’t fighting this war. Who would you like to end up with?”
He laughed with embarrassment. “It’s funny, but I’ve been in love with this one person for a long time. I even have a number of pictures of her up on my wall.”
I smiled. “Oh, yeah? Who?”
His expression turned serious. “You.”
I retracted. My eyes widened and the smile disappeared. “Oh.”
He faced the floor. “It’s weird, but the stories of you had been going around for a while, but I didn’t pay much attention until I saw a picture of you.” He stared at my face for a moment, as if studying each feature. “When I first saw it, I thought you were so beautiful. Perfect, in fact. My dream woman.”
I swallowed and looked around the restaurant, unable to look him in the eye. I’d had no idea he felt that way. I couldn’t deny that he was a handsome man, but he was also a Shrinik. Then again, Curtis was one of the good guys, but I just couldn’t see myself falling for anyone else so soon after Kevin’s death. Even the whole sexual tension with Michael and Doug confused me. Would I be a bad person for imagining being with someone else? Could it be someone like Michael? Even though it was possible that he was the mastermind of the whole thing. Then I remembered that Doug could have been listening to every word.
God, I hope he isn’t. This is so awkward.
Curtis leaned back. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
I smiled. “You didn’t. I’m glad you told me.”
We returned to the SUV half an hour later without saying much to each other. I felt some tension in the air, but his calm demeanor never made me feel uncomfortable. We didn’t hear from Doug until 5 p.m.
“They’re leaving,” he said. “They’re walking out of the building as we speak.”
Curtis interlocked his fingers. “See where they’re going.”
Nothing came back for a minute. Then Doug spoke. “They’re gone. A black limo took them away. The building’s clearing out, too.”
“Okay,” Curtis said. “Meet us outside your building.” He started the engine and put the car in “drive.” We parked outside the U.S Bank Tower and waited.
Doug came out in the midst of at least thirty workers and jumped into the back. We drove down West Fifth Street and took a left onto Broadway before parking at the corner of West Sixth Street. Glixima Tower was only twenty yards away.
Chapter Forty-Three
I
t felt strange watching Curtis change in the car. His black suit matched Doug’s right down to the size. They were much cheaper than the ones they’d worn to leave Carrie’s apartment building but still lent them a strong presence. Curtis checked the magazines of the M4 and AN-94 assault rifles and threw them into the bag. He handed a Glock to me and I put it inside my purse, hoping I wouldn’t need anything more powerful.
We conducted a quick test of our earpieces. It all seemed so final, as if these were the last few moments we’d ever spend together. It was ten past six, and the number of people leaving the building had lessened.
Curtis strapped the weapons bag onto his shoulder and checked the clip of his Glock. Then he put it inside his suit’s left inner pocket and put his sunglasses on. Doug did the same and opened the door. Curtis smiled at me and joined him outside. They stood motionless, facing oncoming pedestrians, looking every inch the bodyguards they were pretending to be. I put my own glasses on before stepping out and running my fingers through my hair. Curtis held my hand and helped me to the pavement. A number of people walking past looked at me and whispered to each other. I nodded at Doug and Curtis, and we approached the building.
“Do I really look like her?” I said.
“You most certainly do,” Curtis said.
I stopped cold after walking through the revolving doors. I studied the hall in front of us. It was probably twice the size of the U.S Bank Tower, and better-decorated, too, with aluminium walls everywhere. Two security guards stood to my left, another two in front of us. But I also saw a number of men in gray suits who didn’t look like regular office workers and were probably Shriniks or muscle for hire.
I walked toward reception, drawing glances from everyone. The guards stopped speaking when they saw me and stared, as did the men in suits, who probably wielded guns in the breasts of their jackets. It wasn’t a look of suspicion, though, but one of intrigue.
A man and a woman were seated at the reception desk. The woman wore an impatient look, so I walked toward the man. He gave me a huge smile but rescinded it when Doug and Curtis appeared beside me.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” he asked
I leaned forward and smiled. “I’m here to see Barry Clark.”
“And you are?”
I swallowed.
I can’t believe I’m doing this.
“Bethany Carpenter.” Asking for a meeting with the company’s CFO and claiming to be his goddaughter was very risky. But from the way Michael spoke about Barry, he always worked late, and we just had to take the chance that the real Bethany wouldn’t turn up. According to her Twitter account, though, she hadn’t been to L.A. since she divorced Michael just over three years ago. That gave us confidence that our plan would work.
The receptionist’s eyes lighted up. “Oh, Ms. Carpenter. Welcome back. I’m so sorry about Michael.”
I nodded.
“Please go on up. Mr. Clark will be so glad to see you.”
I smiled at him. He must have met Bethany a number of times, judging by his reaction.
I must really look like her then. I guess I just don’t see it.
“Thank you,” I said.
He smiled and I walked toward the elevators. Then I took my glasses off. All the guards and the men in suits were looking at us. Some were on their phones, too.
“They know,” I said.
“Just act calm,” Curtis said. We kept walking. The elevators were about five yards away.
Two of the guards started walking toward us. I grew more and more worried. “They’re coming.”
Neither Doug nor Curtis spoke. We stopped and Doug pushed the elevator button. The elevator in the closest shaft was on the thirtieth floor. I turned back toward the reception area. The guards were now only a few steps away. I gritted my teeth and looked away.
“Ms. Carpenter,” I heard one of them say.
I swallowed, turned around and tried to steady my voice. “Yes?”
The guard took his hat off. “It’s David, ma’am. David Phelan. Remember, I used to drive for your father.”
Doug nudged my shoulder. I smiled. “Oh, yes. How are you?”
“Really well.” He paused to clear his throat. “I’m really sorry about Mr. Galloway.”
I coughed and nodded. “Thank you.”
He put his hat back on. “Please say hello to your dad for me.”
“I will.”
He nodded and walked off, but two of the men in suits stopped him for a quick conversation. The closest elevator was now on the tenth floor, and the men were still staring at us. The next thirty seconds felt like ten years, but then I heard the chime and the elevator door opened. I rushed in without looking back. Doug and Curtis followed and took their glasses off. I hit the button for the sixtieth floor. Barry Clark worked there, from what Michael had told me, and if the guards were suspicious, they’d be even more so if we went to another floor.
We didn’t say a word to each other in the elevator. It was much larger than most I’d seen, with the ceiling maybe eleven feet high. The flashing red light at the top of the wall served as a constant reminder that our every move was on camera. We had gone past the tenth floor and kept going up. I didn’t take my eyes away from the changing red numbers of the floor display: 15, 20, 25. When it hit 30, the elevator stopped. I swallowed and looked at Curtis and then Doug. They faced ahead and didn’t return my gaze.