Ash nodded. “Same with the elevators.”
“I told you.”
Washington said, “We haven’t seen anyone, either. This place is like a ghost town.”
“You just weren’t looking in the right place,” Ash said, and led them into the room.
“I guess not,” Langenberg said.
“Is Director Johnson here?” Chloe asked, hopeful.
Ash shook his head. “On the other side of the barrier would be my guess.”
“So how are we going to get up there?”
“One thing at a time, huh?” He looked over at Ramirez. “You guys done?”
“Last one,” Ramirez said. He ran a zip tie around a man’s ankles and jerked it closed. “That’s it.”
They used the heavy table to block the doorway so no one could wiggle out, then returned to the stairwell where they’d left Omar and Sealy. But the two men were no longer on the twenty-first-floor landing. They weren’t in the stairwell at all. There were, however, five corpses wearing security uniforms outside the entrance to the twentieth floor.
Ash led the way past them and the heavily damaged door. Crumpled on the carpet just inside was another uniformed body. Ash’s team split up the same way it had before and began searching the floor.
Ash’s group passed two more bodies before they found Omar and Sealy near the elevators. On the floor lay two very alive security men.
“Captain,” Omar greeted him. “Apologies for not staying on post. We had an opportunity and I decided to pursue it.”
“Are there any more?”
“We’ve checked the entire floor, sir. This is it. Eleven in all.”
Chloe and her group came running around the corner. When she saw that Ash had already found Omar and Sealy, she rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Next time, we get to go right.”
Ash traded his rifle for the pistol at his hip. Kneeling between the guards, he put the barrel against the head of the man to his left and turned to the other one. “How do you retract the barrier below floor twenty-two?”
The man tried to spit at Ash, but only managed to dribble saliva down the side of his own cheek.
Ash looked at his colleague. “Seems your buddy’s not too concerned about your life. I’m sorry, but…” He made like he was going to pull the trigger.”
“Wait!” the guy he was pointing his gun at said. “I’ll answer! Please.”
Easing the barrel back a bit, Ash said, “Okay. Then answer.”
“You can’t open it.”
“Can’t? Or just not by me?”
“No one can. It’s impossible. Once it’s engaged, it’s there until the building falls apart.”
It’s what Ash had been afraid of. “Then how do they get out?”
“Helicopter.”
Ash tensed. “There’s a helicopter up there?”
“There’s usually two. But—”
“Shut up,” the other guy said.
“But what?” Ash asked.
The security man looked at him and then at his partner.
“Say another word and I’ll make sure you get exiled,” the other guy warned.
Ash whipped his gun from the first guy’s head to that of the troublemaker. “The Project’s been canceled. You’re all exiled.”
He pulled the trigger.
Turning back to the other one, he repeated, “But what?”
The guy stared at him, his face pale.
“But what?” Ash repeated.
The man swallowed, and then said, “But…but…but Commander Vintner’s team took them early this morning. As far as I know, they haven’t come b-b-b-back yet.”
Ash turned to his team.
“Ramirez and Yates, get this guy stored with the others on twenty-one and keep an eye on them. The rest of you, we’re going back outside.”
__________
CHLOE SPOTTED THE van half a block from NB016. After Bobby hotwired it, Ash drove them back to the river and across the bridge to the helicopter.
Once they were all on board and their weapons reloaded, Ash said to Bobby, “Cameras?”
“I changed the cards in the van just to be safe. We’re all set.”
“Good.” Ash scanned the rest of his team. “Everyone ready?”
The answer was a resounding, “Yes, sir!”
He tapped Omar on the shoulder. “Take us up.”
27
SAN FERNANDO VALLEY
7:01 AM PST
NOREEN CHECKED THE rearview mirror again. The vehicle was still there. She’d lost sight of it as she drove through the hills between Thousand Oaks and Woodland Hills on the 101 Freeway, but after the road straightened out again, there it was.
She’d first spotted it about an hour earlier as she drove past Ventura. It had still been dark, not even a hint of morning registering in the east. The other vehicle wasn’t using its headlights, but every once in a while its parking lights would pop on for a few seconds before turning off again, as if the driver was spot-checking the road.
Now that the sun had risen, she could see the vehicle was an SUV. And there was no question it was closing the distance between them. It couldn’t be more than a quarter mile back.
The truck she, Riley, and Craig were in had come from a car dealership in San Luis Obispo. An F-150 crew cab. Riley had said she’d drive but she was exhausted from being up all night rescuing them, so after a while Noreen took the wheel. Craig was stretched out on the backseat. He had woken a couple of times but had soon drifted off again. For a while, Riley had watched him from the front passenger seat, making sure he was all right, but thirty minutes before Santa Barbara she’d fallen asleep.
The plan was to go south as far and fast as they could, putting as many miles as possible between them and the gang at the Ragged Point motel. Riley said she’d disabled their vehicles, but there were plenty of others in the area the kidnappers could’ve used.
The only stop the three had made was the one in San Luis Obispo. Keeping Craig upright on the motorcycle had become almost impossible. They hunted down some first-aid items to bandage up Craig’s wounds and then found the truck. All in all, they couldn’t have been there more than twenty minutes.
For a while, Noreen had thought they’d made a clean getaway, but that feeling had begun to fade when she spotted the other vehicle. The longer it stayed behind her, the more impossible it was to believe the driver was a random survivor who happened to be heading in the same direction they were.
Her gut said it’s Them.
Her goal was to reach the survival station at Dodger Stadium. People would be there—the UN. If she could get there before the kidnappers caught up—if they were the kidnappers—then she and Riley and Craig would be safe.
She wasn’t overly familiar with Los Angeles, but she did know the stadium was near downtown. Right now, that was still a good ten miles away.
With the sun rising, she could now see the road, so she pressed the accelerator down a little more. When she checked the mirror again, she saw the other vehicle had done the same.
__________
BEN HAD FOUND several vehicles that Project Eden had kept in the lot next to the stadium entrance. It was agreed that because of the number of abandoned cars they’d each seen in Los Angeles, it would be easier to travel by motorcycle. Since Ben had found only three bikes, they were forced to double up. Jilly rode with Martina, Valerie went with Amanda, and Martha rode behind Ben.
The last place Martina had seen her missing friends was north of Santa Barbara on the 101. She was well aware they could be hundreds of miles from there by now, but it was a place to start.
They rode on side streets and alleys until they found a clear way onto the I-5 north. From there, they switched to the 134 heading west into the San Fernando Valley, and soon transitioned onto US 101 near Universal Studios.
Here and there clusters of vehicles littered the freeway, some at the side, some in the middle of lanes, forcing them to reduce their speed as they drove around them.
While many cars looked as if they were simply parked, a few had been involved in some pretty spectacular crashes.
They came upon a massive accident as they neared the interchange with the 405 Freeway. At least a dozen cars on their side of the road were smashed into each other, blocking the way. The southbound lanes were even worse, thirty cars or more filling the overpass.
They stopped their bikes.
“My God,” Jilly said. “What happened here?”
Martina shook her head. It was just another question for which they’d never know the answer. She gave her bike a little juice and rolled it over to the edge of the road, the others following her.
The sun began to peek over the mountains as she looked down on the 405. There were a few overturned cars that looked like they’d fallen from the 101, but otherwise the lanes were free. The problem, though, was the concrete divider that ran down the middle. No way could they get over that.
“We’ll have to go back to the last exit,” she said. “Work our way around until we can get on the 101 again.”
“We’ll follow you,” Ben said.
They exited at Sepulveda, and took the road south until they found a street that went under the 405. From there they followed the signs that led them back to the 101 via Haskell.
The last thing Martina expected to see as they roared back onto the freeway was a truck in the southbound lanes, driving fast in the other direction.
She heard Jilly yell something but couldn’t make it out. Jilly yelled again and tapped her hand rapidly against Martina’s ribs. Martina eased up on the accelerator and braked to a stop. As she did, an SUV whizzed by in the opposite lanes. This one had several people inside.
Jilly leaned up to Martina’s helmet and said loudly, “I think that was Noreen.”
“Noreen?”
“In the truck. I think she was driving!”
__________
“RILEY,” NOREEN SAID, shaking her friend’s leg. “Riley, wake up!”
Riley forced her eyes open. “Just a little long—”
“I think they’re back there.”
Riley’s brows scrunched together. “Huh?”
Noreen nodded toward the rear. “Someone’s following us.”
That woke up her friend. Riley twisted in her seat and looked out the back window. “How long?”
“I noticed them about an hour ago. They’ve sped up since the sun came up.”
Riley turned to her. “You think it’s them?”
“I think we’d be stupid to assume it’s not.”
Riley grabbed her pack off the floor and pulled out the pistol she’d taken at Ragged Point. It was the only weapon they had. Noreen’s and Craig’s were in the bags their kidnappers had taken.
“Where are we?” Riley asked, looking around. “Los Angeles?”
Noreen nodded. “The Valley. If we’re lucky, we’ll get to the survival station before they reach us.”
Riley glanced out the back again, then looked at Noreen. “How much farther?”
“I don’t know. Ten miles, maybe?”
Riley again looked toward their pursuers. “We’re not going to make it.”
“We’ll make it.”
“I don’t know.”
“Riley, we’ll—no. No!”
A few hundred yards ahead, a multi-car accident covered all lanes. Worse yet, there were no exits between them and the blockage.
She looked left. A strip of land covered with trees and shrubs separated the north- and southbound lanes, but those lanes were blocked, too. Through a break in the foliage, she could see a strip of uneven ground leading down to a lower road that ran perpendicular to the 101. It had to be the 405. And it looked clear.
Without another thought, she turned the truck toward the strip.
“Hold on!” she yelled as the wheels went from asphalt to dirt.
Brush scraped loudly against the undercarriage as Noreen jerked the truck side to side, trying to find the best path.
“What’s going on?” a groggy Craig asked from the back.
“Just hang on,” Noreen told him.
After swinging right, she found a clear path that took them the rest of the way off the hill. At the bottom, they sped across a transition road and a short, raised divider onto the main lanes. Noreen whipped the wheel to the right, planning to head over the Sepulveda Pass, but their momentum carried the truck into the center divider, slamming the driver’s side against the concrete. Both wheels on the passenger side lifted several feet into the air before falling back down.
For a moment, Noreen sat there, stunned. Remembering they were still in danger, she shoved down on the accelerator but then realized the engine had died. She turned the key, got a few whines, but the damn thing wouldn’t turn over.
“They’re coming!” Riley said.
As Noreen tried the key one more time, she looked up the hill. The other truck was pulling off the 101 and heading down the slope at a saner rate than they had taken it.
“Dammit!” she said when the engine failed again. “Everyone out! Get over the divider and run! They can’t drive over that.”
Riley climbed out and opened the crew cab door to help Craig do the same. Noreen tried her door but it was jammed shut, so she scooted across to Riley’s side and got out.
“Take it,” Riley said, pushing the gun into Noreen’s hand. “You’re a better shot.”
Noreen had no idea if she was or not, but she took the weapon and said, “Keep moving!”
They circled behind the vehicle and climbed over the three-foot-high barrier. Once they were on the other side, Noreen glanced back at the other truck. It was almost to the freeway, just seconds behind them. She could see the driver now.
It was the bald bastard who’d punched her.
“Noreen!” Riley yelled.
Noreen jerked away from the divider and ran after her friends.
__________
MARTINA COULDN’T HELP feeling a sense of déjà vu as she sped down the freeway, following the truck and the SUV. The last time, she’d been chasing a Jeep—Ben’s Jeep. When she’d finally caught up to it, there was only the strange woman inside.
She hoped Jilly was right and Noreen was indeed in the truck.
Ahead, beyond a curve in the freeway, she saw a cloud of dust rise into the air. Its distance and timing coincided with where the vehicles should be. For a second, she wasn’t sure what they were doing, and then it dawned on her.
The accident.
They must have been trying to find a way around it.
As she swung around the bend, she could see where both vehicles had gone off the road. She raced over, stopping at the top for a quick look.
What she saw stunned her. The truck that Noreen was supposedly in had crashed against the center divider. The SUV had stopped next to it and men were piling out of it.
Armed men.
Martina looked around for her missing friends. The pickup truck and the area around it were deserted.
One of the men from the SUV shouted and pointed down the road. Martina turned her head and spotted Noreen, Riley, and Craig on the other side of the center divider, running under the overpass.
The crack of a gun was followed by one of the men shouting, “Next one won’t be a warning so you might as well stop running now!”
“We have to do something,” Jilly said.
“Get off,” Martina told her.
“What?”
“Get off!”
As Jilly climbed from the bike, Martina pulled her pistol out of her backpack and then handed the bag to her friend.
“You can’t go down there,” Valerie said. “They’ll kill you.”
“Those are our friends. I’m not going to just leave them.”
Martina gunned her bike. But instead of going down the hill where the others had, she raced across the freeway and maneuvered through a dirt divider to a transition lane leading to the southbound 405. As she reached the lanes, another gunshot boomed.
&
nbsp; Followed by a scream.
__________
NOREEN CAUGHT UP to Riley and Craig as they reached the underpass.
“Keep moving!” she urged them.
“I’m trying,” Craig said, out of breath. “I’m just…I’m trying.”
Noreen threw an arm around him, taking some of his weight. When Riley started to do the same on his other side, Noreen said, “No. I’ve got him. You keep going!”
Behind them she heard the other truck skid to a stop, and soon after the sound of feet hitting the road. Seconds later, a bullet screamed through the air above them. A voice yelled for them to stop.
As Noreen and Craig continued forward, she heard another sound behind them.
Dammit. They have a motorcycle.
How would she and her friends outrun that?
She looked around, and then pointed ahead to where the bridge ended. “Over there, into the brush.”
If they could get through that and into the city, they might be able to find someplace to hide before the motorcycle discovered them. But as they angled across the freeway, Noreen heard the bike again, ahead of them this time. They were being squeezed in a vise.
Boom!
Something hit Noreen’s shoulder, knocking her forward. For a split second, she thought it was a rock, but then searing pain engulfed her.
She screamed.
__________
RILEY TWISTED AROUND at Noreen’s cry just in time to see her friend fall to the road. Craig staggered forward, almost falling with her, and then lowered to his knees next to her.
As Riley ran toward them, she saw that the kidnappers had passed into the shadows of the overpass. Focusing back on her friends, she noticed her pistol lying on the ground a few feet in front of Noreen.
She raced to it, scooped it up, and fired down the road. The men scattered, looking for cover, but there was none between her and them. She continued to pull the trigger until the pistol clicked empty.
When the shooting stopped, all but one of the men stood back up.
“Riley! Down!”
Startled, she whirled around and saw Martina standing about twenty feet behind her, aiming a gun in her direction.
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