Loose ends r-1

by Greg Cox

  "The only silver lining is," Alex continued, "they haven't found Liz's body. In fact, the cops aren't even aware yet that any girl has been abducted; I'm not sure if that last part's a good thing or not." He sat down at the table next to Isabel and helped himself to a slice of pizza. "There's not much Valenti can do right now, but he's going to keep his ears open. He'll let us know if the local cops turn up anything new."Thanks," Max said sincerely, appreciating Alex's efforts even if the news was less than encouraging. If the State Patrol can't find Morton or Liz, what chance do we have? As if on cue, a bell rang as the front door swung open and two uniformed police officers strolled into the pizza place. A hush fell over the table as the five teenagers looked at each other nervously. None of them was looking forward to being interrogated regarding the events at the Denny's and Motel 6. How did they find us? Max worried, trying to look relaxed and unconcerned by the cops' presence. Our cars and license plates look completely different.

  So did Michael and Isabel, whose fake air force uniforms had been transmuted back into ordinary street clothes during the chase through the desert.

  He forced himself to munch casually on a piece of pizza, like any other hungry teenage boy, all the while watching the police officers out of the corner of his eye. At the same time he took a rapid inventory of the parlors available exits, just in case they needed to make a break for it. His free hand wrapped around the car keys in his pocket, making sure he could get to them right away.

  Despite all his hasty preparations, however, the two policemen simply marched up to the counter and ordered a couple of slices to go, paying no attention whatsoever to the tense teenagers. False alarm, Max realized, trying not to let his massive relief show. He saw the same realization dawning in the eyes of his partners in crime, but everyone around the table remained a bit on edge until the uniformed duo left Caverns of Cheese with their hot slices.

  "Whew!" Maria exclaimed, speaking for all of them. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I was definitely feeling like America's Most Wanted there."Tell me about it!" Alex agreed readily. "I was already reviewing my Miranda rights, with special emphasis on the right to remain silent."Michael and Isabel were markedly less vocal about whatever trepidations they might have just experienced, as was Max. Perhaps that's because, he speculated, we've lived like fugitives every day ofour lives.

  His own sense of relief was short-lived, driven out by his persistent fear and guilt regarding Liz. "I should have killed Morton when I had the chance," he accused himself pitilessly. His mind kept replaying that moment in room #19, when he'd hesitated before striking out at Morton with his powers. "I should have blasted him to ashes."Don't say that, Max," Michael said, giving his best friend and leader a worried look from across the table. "That's not like you. That's not who you are."Anger flared inside Max, tempting him to lash out at his friend. If Michael hadn't planted all those doubts in my mind, he thought bitterly, maybe I wouldn't have hesitated when it mattered most! He swallowed the surging resentment, though, refusing to blame Michael or anyone else for his own fatal error. "It's all my fault," he insisted. "If I had struck first, if there had been no second thoughts, Liz might be safe now!"Maybe so," Michael conceded, "but it's not that simple." He fixed his friend and leader with a probing look. "What's worse, Maxwell, thinking twice before killing someone, or doing it without thinking?"Max didn't have a ready answer.

  Isabel broke the silence around the table. "We still have one more lead," she reminded them, fishing around in her handbag until she retrieved a crumpled slip of paper. "Lieutenant Ramirez's phone number."Max's eyes lit up. "What are you thinking, Iz?"Maybe if I call Ramirez, I can convince him to help us," she suggested. "We know there's no love lost between him and Morton. Maybe if he knows that an innocent girl's life is in danger, he'll do the right thing."It's a long shot, she thought, but they were running out of options. The trick will be not telling Ramirez any more than he absolutely needs to know.

  Max nodded, considering Isabel's proposal from every angle. He looked more hopeful than he had before, something that made Isabel herself feel more confident. "It could work," he decided. "Judging from what Michael and I saw in Slaughter Canyon, we know that he's an unwilling partner in this whole enterprise. Morton is blackmailing him." He handed the cell phone to his sister. "Let's hope that, no matter what Morton has on him, Ramirez draws the line at kidnapping."She accepted the phone, then took a deep breath, working up her nerve. Her slender fingers hovered about the push-button dial.

  "You go, girl!" Maria cheered her on. "If this works, I will never mock your Pod-given talent for flirtation again, I promise!"Like I really care," Isabel shot back tartly, the brief exchange of repartee providing a boost to her confidence. She dialed Ramirez's number and tossed her hair back before lifting the phone to her ear. "Watch and learn."The lieutenant picked up on the second ring. "Hello?" he answered, and Isabel thought his voice sounded more strained than it had at the Caverns. Bet he had a sleepless night, she guessed, especially after Max and Michael crashed his midnight rendezvous with Morton. "Who is this?" he asked worriedly.

  "Hi, David!" she said cheerily, not wanting to lower the boom right away. "This is Isabel." It took her a second to recall what alias she had used before. "Isabel DeLuca. From the Bottomless Pit, remember?"Maria shot daggers at Isabel, but the name rang a bell with Ramirez. "Oh yeah, right." A bit of enthusiasm crept into his voice, but he still sounded worn-out and distracted. "Thanks for calling, doll, but, umm, now is not really good for me. Maybe some other time…"Isabel spoke quickly, before he could even think of hanging up. "That's what I'm calling about, David." Her fingers nervously shredded a paper napkin as she trapped the phone between her head and shoulder. "I'm afraid I wasn't entirely honest with you yesterday." She winced and chewed on her lip. "You see, I know all about your… arrangement…with Joe Morton."Dead silence greeted her unexpected declaration. "David? Are you still there?" At first, she thought maybe he had dropped the phone and run away, but then she realized she could still hear breathing coming over the line. Fast, erratic breathing, like someone in a state of shock. "David? Talk to me."Who are you?" he whispered hoarsely, in a broken, wretched parody of the deep, masculine voice he had used with her in the caverns. He didn't even sound like the same person anymore. Instead of a cocky air force test pilot, confident in his appeal, Ramirez now sounded like a man whose nerves had been stretched to the breaking point, if not beyond. "For God's sake, who are you really?"Isabel felt like the straw that broke a once-proud soldier's back. "That's not important now," she told him bluntly. She would have time enough to feel bad for Ramirez later. "What you need to know is that Morton has kidnapped a friend of mine, an innocent young woman, and we believe her life is in danger."A woman?" Ramirez couldn't believe his ears. "What are you talking about? I spoke with Morton five minutes ago, and he didn't say anything about a woman!"Isabel's breath caught in her throat. Ramirez was in touch with Morton, and maybe even knew where the gun- man was right now. "Listen to me, David," she said urgently. "You have to believe me. Morton abducted our friend at gunpoint only a few hours ago. If you know where he is, you have to tell us."But the distraught lieutenant sounded more obsessed with his own swiftly unraveling future than with Liz's safety. "I don't understand," he pleaded. "Who are you? How do you know all this? Who told you?" His voice went from a whisper to a tortured wail. "Are you FBI? CIA? Majestic?" He grew more panicked by the moment, until she could practically see the blood draining from his face. "Oh, good Lord, you're with the Special Unit!"Hardly, Isabel thought. "I'm not out to get you, David. That's not what this is about. We just want to save our friend."We?" Ramirez echoed. "Who is 'we'?" He started shouting into the phone, so loudly that Isabel had to pull the receiver farther away from her ear. "Leave me alone, why don't you? For God's sake, leave me alone!"He hung up abruptly. "David?" Isabel asked, but he was already gone. She redialed hastily, only to listen to the phone ring repeatedly, going unanswered. Don't do this, David, she thought despairingly.
Talk to me.

  But the futile ringing went on and on. Isabel finally gave up and put the phone down. "It's no good," she informed the others, all of whom had been hanging on her side of the dialogue with Ramirez. "I think he knows where Morton is, but he won't pick up the phone anymore." She looked at Max apologetically. "I think I scared him off."You did your best," Max assured her. "He's trafficking in top secret materials, remember. At this point, the slightest hint of exposure probably causes him to wig out." He regarded Isabel thoughtfully, and she recognized the pensive expression on her brothers face; he was thinking strategically, like a general. Or a king.

  "There may be another way," he stated after a few minutes. "Isabel, I know this is asking a lot of you, but do you think maybe you can contact the lieutenant more directly, mind to mind?"I don't know, Max," she said, shaking her head dubiously. She wanted to help, but… "You know that I usually can't enter anyone's thoughts unless they're sleeping, and Ramirez didn't sound like he was planning to take a nap anytime soon. In fact, he sounded like he hasn't been sleeping much at all."And who could blame him? she thought. She wouldn't want to have her life and liberty in the hands of a hot-tempered sociopath like Joe Morton. Should I have told Ramirez about Okada's murder, she wondered, or would that have just panicked him more? "I understand," Max said, entreating her with his eyes. Even if she didn't entirely approve of their risky relationship, Isabel knew how much Liz Parker meant to him. "I'm not asking for any guarantees-I realize the odds are against this working-but please, Iz, for Liz's sake, try."Feeling the weight of her brothers hopes and fears settling heavily upon her unsteady shoulders, Isabel picked up the scrap of paper bearing the lieutenant's phone number. Generally, she preferred to have an actual photo to focus upon, but perhaps she could use this improvised 237 RDSWELL calling card, personally inscribed by Ramirez to her, as a stepping-stone to his unconscious mind? "No promises," she reminded everyone, as she held the scribbled phone number before her eyes. Paging David Ramirez, she thought.

  Ready or not, here 1 come.

  24.

  It took Lieutenant Ramirez much longer than expected to find the uncharted cave, so that Morton was impatient and irritable by the time, several calls for directions later, that the overwrought air force pilot arrived at the entrance to the cave, flashlight in hand. With her wrists bound, Liz couldn't check what time it was, but she guessed that it had be to around three in the afternoon. Her stomach grumbled unhappily, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since breakfast. That's the least of my problems, she thought, wondering how long she could keep her captor thinking that she was an alien. Would her noisy stomach pangs give her away, or would Morton just assume that extraterrestrial humanoids got hungry, too? "What the hell took you so long?" Morton griped as Ramirez entered the cave, the beam of his flashlight darting over the rough, uneven stone floor. Tve been cooling my heels in this goddamn rockpile for hours!" the bad-tempered gunman complained.

  "It's not my fault!" Ramirez insisted, looking much as Isabel and Max had described him, only a lot more agitated and disheveled. Sweat streaked his bronzed features and soaked through his blue, short-sleeved dress shirt. "This place isn't exactly on the map, you know. Besides, die roads around here are prowling with State Patrol cars. I got stopped and questioned-three times!- before I finally found a place where I could park my car and head into the hills."His flashlight searched the crevices of the secluded hideaway, quickly falling upon Liz's captive figure, duct tape and all. A tic in his cheek twitched alarmingly as he stared wide-eyed at Morton's prisoner. "Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed, going pale beneath his coppery tan. "It's true. You have snatched some girl!" He spun around, exposing Morton to the harsh white beam. "You kidnapped a teenager!"No," Morton rebutted, without a trace of remorse. "I captured an alien." He advanced on Ramirez, suddenly sounding suspicious. "Who told you I took the girl? The police? The news?"But Ramirez, shocked by Morton's insane explanation, wasn't listening to the gunman's questions. "An alien? Are you out of your frigging mind?" He swung the flashlight back toward Liz, confirming that she looked entirely human, then unleashed a flood of hysterical invective at Morton. "You maniac! You rabid psychotic! You've gone completely insane!"Squatting on the cold stone floor, several feet away, Liz saw a potential opportunity arising from the escalating conflict between the two men. This might be my chance to make a break for it, she realized, if Ramirez distracts Morton enough. Her gaze turned again toward the gaping darkness at the back of the cave, and her nerve faltered. Did she really want to run blindly into that unknown abyss? Ramirez shoved past Morton, the beam of his flashlight sweeping the cave. "Where is my money, you lunatic?" he demanded, the shadows under his ravenous eyes making him look like one of the living dead. "You promised me the rest of my money!" The shifting light revealed the open backpack, lying next to the locked attache case, and the frenzied lieutenant descended upon the canvas pack like a ravenous vulture, only to find it frustratingly empty. "Where is it?" he shouted at Morton, throwing the worthless pack to the cave floor. His cheek twitched spasmodically, like a severed frog's leg attached to a galvanic current. "Where is my money, you blackmailing son of a bitch!"The hefty killer stood his ground, one hand on the grip of the pistol stuck in his waistband. "Later," he barked. "Tell me more about those state troopers. How much do they know about the girl?"Good question, Uz thought, more than a little curious about that herself. She cautiously flexed her stiff leg muscles, restoring their circulation. Her whole body tensed, poised to run the minute Morton's full attention was elsewhere.

  "Don't 'later' me!" Ramirez yelled, snapping completely. "I've had enough of this!" He kicked the leather briefcase with his foot, propelling it across the cave so that the case landed only inches away from Liz's bound wrists. "I want my money and 1 want it now!"Morton laughed contemptuously, shrugging his burly shoulders. "Sorry, sport. I haven't got it on me. Guess you're going to have to wait until you get me to Mexico."Damn you!" the maddened pilot swore, pushed too far.

  With an inarticulate cry of rage, he charged at Morton, colliding with the stocky gunman head-on and knocking him back against a roughhewn limestone wall. "You monster! You've ruined my life!"Watching intently, Liz knew she would never have a better chance to get away. She sprang to her feet, fighting to keep her balance even though her arms were still bound behind her back. On an impulse, she bent quickly and half-kneeling, fumbled for and grabbed the handle of the attache case with both hands, lifting it off the floor as she dashed for the concealing darkness. The bottom of the case banged against the back of her legs as she ran, but Liz held onto the handle tightly, suddenly unwilling to let Morton, or anyone else, profit from the hijacked alien technology. These secrets belong to Max and the others, she thought with fierce determination, and to nobody else! The cave floor was bumpy and irregular beneath her sneakers, but Liz managed not to stumble or fall as the sty-gian depths enveloped her. What sparse daylight had penetrated the cave from outside swiftly evaporated, but, to her surprise, Liz discovered that she could still see dimly in the dark, winding corridors of the cavern. How? she wondered, marveling at the faint silver radiance lighting her way, then realized diat the unexpected glow was coming from die incandescent handprint on her stomach, exposed again now that her headlong flight had thrown open the flaps of her torn blouse. Thank you, Max! she thought, gasping at this unexpected stroke of luck. In a sense, his miraculous touch had once again come to her rescue! A shot rang out behind her, making her jump. She heard a cry of pain, then something metallic (die flashlight?) clattering onto the limestone floor, followed by the sound of a body hitting the ground. Liz prayed that Morton had somehow ended up at the business end of his own pistol, or that the lieutenant had been carrying a firearm as well, but those hopes were dashed when a familiar, bellicose voice registered her disappearance. "Damn!" Morton cursed loudly, his malevolent roar reverberating through the cramped underground tunnels. "Come back here, you alien witch!" he roared. "Come back right now, or you're as good as dead!"No way, liz tho
ught. She'd rather take her chances with whatever pitfalls lay ahead, even if it meant getting hopelessly lost hundreds of feet beneath the surface. Just like Becky Thatcher in The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, she thought, shuddering. Except that Joe Morton was more real, or better armed, than Injun Joe ever was.

  Hearing loud, stampeding footsteps behind her, she plunged deeper into the lower reaches of the cavern, her eyes probing the darksome gloom even as she rushed down a sloping corridor, trusting in luck, fate, and die preternatural light of the silver handprint to keep her from running into a jagged rock formation-or tumbling into a bottomless chasm.

  "You can't get away from me, you freak!" Morton shouted, sounding far too close behind her. "You're dead, you hear me? I shot you once and I'll shoot you again!"That's what I'm afraid of, Liz thought.

  25.

  Where are you, David Ramirez? Why can't I find you? Her eyelids squeezed shut, Isabel did her best to tune out the sights, sounds, and smells of the busy pizza parlor. She rubbed the vital scrap of paper between her fingers until it felt as thin and fragile as tissue. Her heightened consciousness reached out, sifting through hundreds of churning minds, before zeroing in on the one distinct psyche that could tell her what Max so desperately needed to know. She nudged at the fringes of the lieutenants identity, seeking admittance. Here I am, David, she called out silently. Let me into your dreams.

  "Any luck yet?" Maria asked, breaking Isabels concentration. The alien beauty's eyes snapped open, impaling the other woman with a royally ticked-off glare. The entire table shushed Maria in unison, causing the exasperated teen to tilt backward on her chair, throwing up her hands. "Sorry! My bad," she apologized, sort of. "Excuse me for wondering how she was doing."Outside Caverns of Cheese, the afternoon sun remained high in the sky, yet Isabel felt the day slipping away taking with it any hope of liberating Liz from Joe Morton's murderous clutches. A handful of soggy pieces of crust were all that was left of two pepperoni and Tabasco pizzas, but her friends kept ordering additional snacks and desserts just to avoid being asked to leave their ad hoc base of operations. Isabel feared they were wasting their time.