Capture the Flag (10 page)

The cave of conveyor belts looked even more enormous this time. Where
was
she before? Was it that corner to her right, or by the pile of crates on the other side? Every snaky curve of the belt looked the same.

“Down here!” José hissed, and tugged at her sweatshirt from the floor underneath the belt.

She jumped down — farther than she thought — and caught her breath when she heard the echoing thump of her sneakers on the concrete. She huddled next to José and Henry, listening for a “Hey, what was that?” or a “Get that kid!” But there was only the hum of the belts, emptier and lonelier than they'd been before.

Henry grabbed her arm and pulled her into the shadows under the conveyor belt. “Okay, where were they?”

Anna peered out at the ribbons of black and silver that wound over and around themselves, and shrugged. “It all looks the same.” But then she spotted the place where the belt looped around, high over the ground. “Wait! Over there! I think that's where I was when I videotaped them. That high part. I was looking down, and there were tons of boxes and cases and bags along that wall.”

“Let's go.” Henry climbed back onto the belt. Anna and José scrambled up behind him, and the belt carried them up the ramp.

Anna held her breath when they reached the top and made the turn that would take her back over the spot where the men had grabbed Sinan.

But the men were gone.

So was Sinan.

And so was Hammurabi.

Anna turned to the boys. “They were right down there, next to those —”

“Shhh!” Henry pointed to a stack of boxes underneath them.

Anna caught a flash of neon orange among the crates. She heard a loud grunt, then the scrape of wood against the floor. She lifted her head a bit and saw a big, blue-jeaned bottom wedged between two of the larger containers. When the bottom backed itself out from between the boxes, its owner stood up and put his hands on his hips.

His face was turned away from them, but his tattoo wasn't.

Snake-Arm!

Anna felt a tap on her sneaker and dared to look over her shoulder. José had lifted his head a few inches, and underneath his chin, he was pointing a finger ahead of them, toward a shadowy cave of crates about fifteen feet from where Snake-Arm was standing.

Against the wall was a tall black case; it didn't look special until Anna saw the lid lift, just an inch or two, as they rode past.

She stared at the case over her shoulder as they drifted away from it.

It happened again. The top must have been unlatched; it kept coming up a tiny bit. This time, it stayed open for a few seconds before closing again.

Almost as if someone were inside, peeking out.

Anna was about to twist around for a better look when she heard a thump. Henry had jumped down from the conveyor belt and was gesturing for them to come, too.

Was he crazy? Snake-Arm had wedged himself back in among the boxes, but he was still where he could hear them — and
see
them if he turned around. There weren't even any bags to hide behind here!

Anna shook her head at Henry but heard another thump. José was down, too — motioning for her to follow. She jumped and scrambled over to the boys. “Now what?” she whispered. “He's right there!”

Snake-Arm was pushing one of the black cases, wiggling it along inches at a time. Beads of sweat shone on his forehead.

He bent over to catch his breath, and when he did, the other case, over in the corner, lifted open again. The lid rose higher this time, until they could see Sinan's mop of black hair, then his dark eyes peering out. He must have gotten away. But how long could he hide?

Snake-Arm was facing the other way. Henry waved frantically until they saw Sinan's eyes light up and knew he'd seen them. Then Henry held up one finger. Sinan nodded and disappeared back into the case, the lid lowering slowly over his head.

Henry grabbed Anna's and José's sleeves and tugged them farther away from Snake-Arm and Sinan, into the shadows of one of the belts.

“You guys create a distraction,” Henry whispered. “I'll go get him.”

Anna's mouth hung open. “Isn't calling attention to ourselves the dumbest thing we could do right now?”

“Don't be seen — just heard. So Snake-Arm will leave to check out the noise, and I'll have time to get Sinan out of there.”

“That's assuming Snake-Arm is alone,” José whispered, turning to Anna. “Didn't you say there were two of them?”

“I heard two voices before.”

“Well …” José paused. “I don't see or hear a second man now.” He took a shaky breath. “Let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure.”

Anna stared at him.

“Uh … that was Dumbledore, in case you were —”

“You guys …” Henry pointed to the case in the corner. The box lid lifted again. Sinan.

Anna nodded. “We have to do something.”

“Okay. So you guys go …” Henry's eyes darted around the room.

“There.” José pointed to the far corner, where one section of the baggage belt was stacked especially high.

Henry nodded. “Perfect.”

They heard a grunt. Snake-Arm had opened one of the bigger trunks and was leaning into it, his bottom sticking out the top.

“Go now,” Henry whispered, “while he's busy.”

Anna followed José over belts, around cartons and boxes, under a looping ramp, and up onto the lumpy heap of luggage they'd spotted from across the room.

“Here.” José crouched behind two stacked suitcases and pulled a guitar case from the pile. Quietly —
click, click
— he flipped up the two metal latches that held it shut. “This'll sound good on the concrete.”

Anna scanned the pile of bags. What else would be loud enough to steal Snake-Arm's attention away from Sinan?

“Help me pull these out.” She tugged on the handle of a golf bag that had to be packed full of clubs; it weighed a ton.

Zipper tooth by zipper tooth, so it wouldn't make noise, Anna undid the top of the bag. Her hands trembled and fumbled, but finally, she lifted the cover, and a bouquet of shiny golf clubs gleamed inside. One of the clubs was so huge, it apparently needed its own name —
BIG BERTHA
was etched on the handle.

“That's perfect,” José whispered. “We need to make as much noise as we can, as fast as we can, and then get out of here.”

“Where are we going again?” Anna searched the room for the tunnel that led back to the long hallway.

“There.” José pointed to the tunnel way across the room.

“We're supposed to run all that way? There's no cover, nothing to hide us.”

“Well …” — José swallowed hard — “at least we'll be headed away from Snake-Arm.”

“What if he comes after us?”

“Then we will have done our job, and Henry and Sinan can get away. Besides … we … we'll have a good lead.” As if that settled the matter, José picked up the guitar case and braced himself against a big green suitcase at the edge of the belt. “Ready?”

Anna heaved the golf bag over her shoulder and got one hand under the bottom of it. “Ready. You want to count or something?” Her arms trembled.

“One …”

Anna gripped the handle of the bag more tightly.

“Two …”

She peeked over the edge of the belt.

“THREE!” José sprung out of his crouch and flung the open guitar case off the belt, farther than Anna could have imagined someone so skinny could throw. It clunked off the metal edge of another belt, fell from its velvet interior and bounced with a reverberating
THUNGGG
off the cement floor. Anna froze, waiting for the gruff voice, the thudding boot steps.

“Do it —
fast
— and let's go!” José lowered himself over the edge of the ramp, and Anna snapped out of her spell. She heaved the golf bag up over her shoulder and tipped it so the clubs spilled out like pickup sticks, clattering, clanging, and twanging onto the floor.

“Come on!” José was already down, looking around wildly. Within seconds, heavy footsteps came thunking across the cement floor. Anna dropped the golf bag — there was no time to climb down carefully — and jumped.

A sharp pain shot through her ankle when she landed, but she limped after José, tripping over scattered golf clubs, ducking between suitcases, in and out of the looping conveyor belts.

The thumping steps behind her grew louder and louder. She didn't dare slow down to look over her shoulder, even for a second. She knew it was the clunking of those big green work boots even before she heard Snake-Arm's voice.

“Hey you kids! Stop right there! STOP!” The voice boomed over the hum of the conveyor belt motors and fueled Anna to move even faster.

“
Go!!
” She caught up to José and shoved him on, toward the belt that led through the tunnel in the far wall. The pounding boots were getting louder; he had to be getting close. There was a crash and a clatter. A deep voice cursed not far behind them, but Anna kept moving.

“Quick, climb up!” Her breaths came in short, quick gasps, and every muscle in her body tensed as she waited for José to climb onto the belt so she could follow. “Hurry!”

She risked a glimpse over her shoulder, ducking to see under the maze of conveyor belts. Snake-Arm was two belts away from them and had apparently tripped over whatever it was they heard clattering. Under the belts, Anna could see hands, knees, and green work boots, all scrambling to get back up. “Hurry! He's coming!”

She gave José a shove up onto the belt and started to pull herself up, but a big paisley suitcase came merging in from another path and pushed her right off the edge of the ramp.

The footsteps came closer.

“Anna, come on!” José was crouched backward on the belt, facing her but riding away toward the tunnel. His eyes widened. “Hurry!”

Anna flung herself onto the belt, shoved aside a car seat coming toward her — why was more luggage showing up all of a sudden? — and scrambled over the bulging paisley suitcase. José knelt next to her and unzipped it.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for something we can use to defend ourselves!”

“Well, it's not like you're going to find a baseball bat or something in there. Let's go!”

“Hold on.” José tossed out two dress shirts, a few loose brown socks, and a pair of red, white, and blue striped boxer shorts that Anna might have stopped to laugh at if they hadn't been in so much trouble.

“He's
coming
! And he's three times our size, José! Just
go
!”

“No! We need to stop him or we'll never get away.”

Anna looked back. Snake-Arm was struggling to pull himself onto the belt after them. “Stop him? With what, José? A fancy pair of underpants? Stop him with
what
?”

“This.” José pushed the suitcase toward Anna. Lining the bottom of the bag was a virtual beauty salon. Big, glugging, economy-size bottles of Gotta-Be-Hot shampoo and conditioner. Three cans of Glamour-Hold hair spray. Styling mousse. Two combs, three brushes, a blow-dryer, and a big tub of Powder Perfect face powder.

“
What?
Are we supposed to beautify him to death?” Anna heard a grunt and looked behind her; the big lug had hoisted himself halfway onto the ramp and was kicking his legs behind him, wiggling up the rest of the way. “We need to
go
!” Anna pushed José toward the tunnel, but he pushed back.

“Quick!” He popped the lids off the two cans of hair spray and shoved them into Anna's hands. “Take these!” He tucked the powder under his arm and frantically started unscrewing the top of the biggest shampoo bottle as he climbed back over the suitcase. “Come on!”

Snake-Arm was up on the ramp, crawling on hands and knees toward them.

“Stop right there,” he said. “I know you think I'm just some baggage handler, but —”

“We know who you are!” Anna's voice was the only brave part of her. The hair spray cans trembled in her hands.

“I doubt that very much,” Snake-Arm growled, teetering to his feet. He looked even more enormous up here; Anna felt as if she were facing down a mountain. “But you need to come back here with me, or you're going to be in trouble with people a lot tougher than I am.”

He was just feet away from José now, and Anna was next in line. How they could possibly be in any more trouble, she couldn't imagine.

“Okay,” José said, his voice shaking. “We're coming … BACK!” On that word, he yanked the face powder from under his arm. The lid went flying, and José flung the whole tub of powder at Snake-Arm. A huge cloud of white exploded in his face, and he doubled over, coughing.

José squeezed the bottle of shampoo for all he was worth, emptying every drop onto the belt between them and Snake-Arm. He took a step back and pushed Anna forward. “Get him!”

She imagined the twin hair spray cans were guns or lightsabers — something more powerful than hair spray, anyway — held both arms in front of her, and pulled the triggers.

PHFFFFFTTTT!!!!!!

“Aawwwwgh!!”

“Go!” Anna felt José tugging on her elbow. She dropped the cans clattering onto the concrete floor and took off, leaping over the paisley suitcase and ducking with José through the flapping black rubber strips into the next room, where they both climbed down from the conveyor belt and darted into the shadows underneath.

“Shhh!” José whispered, panting. “Stay hidden.”

Anna nodded, grateful for a minute to rest. She couldn't catch her breath, and her ankle throbbed. “Do you think he's coming?” she whispered.

Her answer came from the other side of the flapping rubber strips.

Thumping boot steps.

A loud curse, and then —

Ka-thunk-thud-THUD!
As if someone had dropped an extra-large duffel bag full of ski boots onto the belt from way up high.

Or as if an extra-large man had slipped in shampoo and tumbled off a conveyor belt to the floor.

Finally, there was a low, grumbling moan.

“Sounds like he's been beautified,” José said quietly. “Let's get back to Gate B-16 and make sure Henry and Sinan made it out.”