Exit 9 (16 page)

His words broke her spell. “He’s got a gun!” Even before she finished yelling, she started running toward the container end closest to her, hoping she could get behind it before the man shot her in the back.

She heard her uncle yell something, but her mind wasn’t registering the words. Her focus was only on finding a place to hide.

Something thudded against the ground behind her. She couldn’t help but look back.

Uncle Hector had jumped off the container and was standing between her and the man with the gun.

“Put it down!” he ordered.

Patricia reached the end and moved partially behind it. “Uncle Hector, please run.”

“I’m a police officer,” Hector said, still looking at the man. “You will toss the gun over here, then you will lie on the floor, your hands on your head.”

For a second it looked like the other man was surprised by Uncle Hector’s words, but then he said, “If anyone’s breaking the law here, it’s you. You don’t own this property. My employers do. You have no right to be here.”

“Your employers are the owners? Then what’s inside this box?”

“Whatever’s in there is not your business.”

“If you move the roof away, and open the top, it looks suspiciously like you are going to release something into the air. Some kind of waste product, is that what it is? Something you’re trying to hide?”

The man cocked his head. “Is that what you think? How interesting.”

If it weren’t for her fear of the gun, Patricia would have rushed out, grabbed the back of her uncle’s shirt, and pulled him to safety. “Please, Uncle Hector. Please come.”

A noise behind her startled her. It was her brother peeking at her from around the other corner. He motioned for her to come to him. She shook her head, and motioned with her eyes toward the other side where their uncle was.

“He wants us to go,” he whispered, “while the other guy can’t see us. He’s trying to keep him busy.”

Leave Uncle Hector behind?
They couldn’t do that.

“Who knows you’re here?” the man with the gun asked.

“My colleagues,” Uncle Hector said. “They’re already on the way.”

“Really? That’s not what it sounded like to me. I got the distinct impression from what you told the other two that you hadn’t called anyone yet.”

“I called them on the way here. Told them where I was going. They should be here soon.”

Patricia could hear the lie in her uncle’s voice, and was sure the other man did, too.

“Tell your friends to come out. They’re not going to get away.”

Uncle Hector said nothing.

“Did you hear me?” the man said, raising his voice. “You’re not going to get out. I’ve blocked the entrance through the cabinet. And I guarantee you that the bullets in my gun travel faster than any of you can run.”

“Come on,” Rodrigo said. “We have to go
now
.”

“What about Uncle Hector?”

Rodrigo hesitated a moment, then said, “I have a plan, but you have to get out of here first.”

“You heard him. He’s blocked the cabinet.”

“Then use the rat hole.”

The rat hole
? She had forgotten all about that. It wasn’t really an exit, but it was a way to get out of sight. If she still fit.

Not knowing what else to do, she scrambled past her brother, and out through the collapsed wall.

“I said, get out here!” the man yelled again, his voice now partly blocked by the container.

“Okay,” Rodrigo said. “We’re…we’re coming.”

Patricia whipped back around.
What?
What was he doing? He wasn’t really going to step out where the man could see him, was he?

She was about to go back to stop him, when she saw his shadow passing along the top of the container. Somehow he had climbed back up without her hearing him.

Now she understood what he was planning. He was going to get above the man and jump on him. That was actually a great idea. She should have thought of it herself.

Rodrigo noticed her through the opening in the wall, and waved for her to keep moving.

The rat hole. That’s where he wanted her to go
.

She nodded, and moved into the corridor. As she reached the room where the rat hole was, she heard something in the distance that sounded like a spit or a slap. It happened twice in a row, and after a moment, a third time. But she didn’t have time to figure out what it was. She had to keep moving.

When she and Rodrigo were kids, they imagined the room had been used as an office by the factory’s owner. It was the only room in the building with an actual fireplace. The rat hole was in the corner of the same wall the stone fireplace was located. It wasn’t
really
a rat hole. It was a broken area near the bottom that, if she turned herself just right, she could squeeze through and slip inside the wall. She contorted her body into the position she’d used in the past, and hoped she was still skinny enough to fit.

She was. Just barely.

She shimmied to her left, toward the fireplace. There was a wide spot there, an open space behind the stones of the façade and mantel. As soon as she reached it, she crouched down and began to pray.

__________

P
EREZ EYED THE
man who said he was a cop.
Were
there others coming? He doubted it, but he needed to know for sure, and the only way to do that was to force the man to tell the truth.

Perez heard a low creak come from the IDM container, but pretended he hadn’t noticed. To try and surprise him from above was an obvious ploy. Inside he was smiling. Assistance, however unwitting, with his information problem was about to drop into his lap.

“Perhaps we should both walk away,” the maybe-cop said.

“Perhaps we should,” Perez agreed. “What do we call this? A misunderstanding?”

“I’d be willing to do that.”

Perez smiled. “I bet you would.”

In the silence that followed, Perez focused on the container. First there was a hint of a scrape, then a breath.

“So,” the man asked. “Do we have a deal?”

No further sounds now, but Perez could sense the person looking at him. Though he couldn’t know for sure, it was safer to assume it was the young man and not the girl.

“I think I’ve reconsidered,” Perez replied.

The other man was doing everything he could not to look at the container. “A mistake is all this is. Walking away is not a bad thing.”

Any second now. Any—

As soon as he sensed the man above him start to jump, Perez moved toward the IDM. The jumper—he was right, it was the man—arced over him, missing him by half a foot at most. He tried to grab Perez as he went by, but his outward trajectory was having none of it. When his feet hit the ground, he turned to take on Perez, but instead got a face full of pistol grip. Down he went, nose bloody, eyes rolling back.

“No!” the older man yelled, taking a step forward.

Before he could take another, Perez aimed his gun at the guy on the floor, really more of a teenager than an adult. The older man halted, getting the message.

“Now, who knows you’re here?”

The guy stared at him for a moment, clearly running through options in his mind, but Perez knew he’d eventually realize he had only one.

“No one,” the man said. “I haven’t called anyone yet.”

“So no colleagues on the way?”

Looking defeated, the man shook his head.

“What about family?”

“No. I’ve been at work all day. Haven’t talked to anyone. Please, just let them go. They’re just kids.”

Perez remained silent, considering what the man had told him. After several seconds, he decided the guy was telling the truth.

“What I don’t think you understand,” he said, “is that the greater evil would be to let them go. What I can give them now, give
you
now, will save you a lot of pain later.”

“What are you talking about? Please, harming us isn’t necessary.”

“Fine. If that’s what you want. I
will
let them go.”

Perez was waiting for it, that look of relief he knew would pass through the man’s face. As soon as it did, Perez pulled his trigger twice, each bullet piercing the man’s forehead. The guy dropped to the ground, dead before gravity even took hold.

In Perez’s mind, what he’d done was humane. The man died thinking his two friends would be allowed to live. It was a small gesture, but a thoughtful one as far as Perez was concerned.

He turned his pistol to the kid on the floor, and put a single shot between his eyes.

With a sigh, he checked the older man for ID, wanting to know if he’d been lying about being a cop. Sadly, no. He’d told the truth. That meant it was all the more important to locate any car the man might have arrived in and have it moved.

That was second priority at the moment, though. The girl was number one.

Perez headed around the container and out of the room. Unfortunately, despite the condition of the building, the floor did not readily show prints. He glanced back at the room where the hole in the cabinet came out. Contrary to what he’d said, he hadn’t blocked it.

Had she checked? Or was she somewhere else in the building?

His bet was that she was somewhere in the building, so he began a room-by-room search. What he found was…nothing.

For the first time, he felt angry. If she got away, she would surely bring others back. And if that happened, the IDM would be discovered, which might snowball to others being found, too.

How long before she might return? Minutes? Hours? A day?

No, not a day. At best, hours, but even that might be unrealistic.

There were contingency plans for situations such as this. The payload of this particular IDM would have to be destroyed immediately. Each of the devices was equipped with one of two different types of self-destruct mechanisms. This particular mechanism would superheat the interior to the point where the metal of the box itself would melt, and there would be nothing left for anyone to know what was inside. Perez preferred the boxes that simply exploded, but this would do.

He returned to the box, used the master combination to open one of the side doors, then engaged the self-destruct. To give himself enough time to get away, he set it on a ten-minute delay. If the girl and whoever she brought arrived before then, too bad. They’d be consumed by the blaze. If not, then there’d be nothing left to prove her story. Even the bodies of the two men would be gone.

Ten minutes. That would be more than enough.

__________

P
ATRICIA HEARD THE
board in the floor creak in the room just on the other side of the wall. She stopped breathing, afraid that even a slight sound might be enough to give her position away. If it had been Rodrigo, he would have called out her name, but whoever it was hadn’t said a word.

Another creak, this one closer to the wall.

He’s going to see the rat hole. He’s going to see the rat hole and know I went through it.

She could hear him approach the hole. In her mind’s eye, she saw him kneeling down, examining the opening, sticking his head in just enough so that he could look down the inside of the wall to her hiding spot behind the fireplace. She was so sure that was exactly what was going to happen, she at first refused to believe her ears when the sound of the floorboards grew fainter and fainter.

Not only did he
not
look through the hole, he wasn’t even in the room anymore. The breath she’d been holding rushed out of her lungs.

He didn’t know she was there. He didn’t know. Her elation lasted mere seconds, though.
What about Rodrigo and Uncle Hector? If the man’s walking around, had they gotten away? Or…

She didn’t want to think about it. She
couldn’t
think about it. If she did, she’d start screaming and the man would know where she was.

She forced herself to calm down. She had to assume it was up to her to get away and find help. But how? She couldn’t just crawl back through the rat hole and leave the way she’d entered the building. He’d said the opening through the cabinet was blocked off, so it would take time for her to clear it. He’d see her for sure. And if he had hurt either of the other two, they might need immediate help, so waiting until the man left wasn’t an option. She couldn’t hear him anymore, so it would be very unlikely she’d know when he was gone. In fact, she thought it was a very good possibility that he wouldn’t leave at all but silently wait her out instead.

Patricia wasn’t about to give up, though. Her brother and uncle were relying on her.

She looked around her cramped space, wishing there was some other way she could get—

Is that the sky?

Above her a slit of light glowed through an open seam in the ceiling. Could she get there? Was there a way to get through the old part of the roof if she did?

Once more she scanned her surroundings, but with different focus this time. The walls were out of the question. If she tried to climb them, there was no way she’d be able to do so without making a lot of noise. Plus, there was the very real possibility they might collapse under her weight.

There was another option—the chimney she’d been leaning against. It ran all the way up to the ceiling. In fact, the crack she’d seen might very well be where the roof met it. She twisted around and gave the stacked stones a closer inspection.

It wouldn’t be easy, but if she was careful, she thought she could do it. Not could, she corrected herself. She
had
to do it. She
would
do it.

Examining each stone before she grabbed it, she began to climb. A little over halfway up, without thinking, she put a hand on the wall to steady herself. The wood groaned from the pressure, and she immediately froze in place. For half a minute, she did nothing but listen for the man, sure he would check the noise, but as far as she could tell, he hadn’t returned. Maybe he just thought it was the normal settling sound of the structure. Or maybe he was gone.

She continued upward, moving past the height of the ceilings in the rooms, and into what had probably been the attic. Exposed beams, no floor, and not enough room for her to stand up if there had been. About twenty feet to her left, she could see where the attic had been sealed off, and beyond would be the recently installed removable roof.