As he made his thirtieth lap around the large gathering room, Stella finally said, “Would you please sit down, Benny? You are going to wear a path in the floor.”
“Aren’t you worried, Stella?” asked Benny.
“You heard what Peter said. It’s all going to be over shortly. I take that as good news. You should do the same thing. Now sit!”
Benny swatted his hand toward her.
“Back off!”
He continued pacing and walked down the long corridor leading to the entry door of the living quarters. He slowed toward the end of the corridor and noticed that the large steel door was slightly ajar. Cautiously, Benny stepped closer to see if any guards were outside in the stairwell. Inching the door open farther revealed nothing. He pulled on the door and stepped fully into the shaft. He stood at the junction of stairs and waited momentarily, listening to silence.
Certain nobody was using the stairs, Benny rushed back down the corridor.
“Stella! Grab your stuff. We’re gettin’ out of here,” Benny blurted out as he ran by into his sleeping room. Stella was stretched out like a cat on the sofa reading Cosmo. A moment later he returned to the gathering room hauling his possessions in a duffel bag. “Well? Didn’t you hear me? Let’s go.”
“What are you talking about? We’re not going anywhere,” said Stella sitting up.
“But the front door is open, and there are no guards out there. Let’s go while we’ve got time,” repeated Benny.
“I’m not going anywhere and neither should you. It’s Saturday, you fool. Obviously there’s no guard at the door. They’re probably up top, guarding the front of the building or some secret thingamajig,” Stella replied.
“Fine, you can stay, but I’m outta here,” Benny said as he moved toward the corridor.
“Why are you in such a hurry to leave? Don’t you want the money they promised? It’s only going to be a few more days and we will be free. Just stay with me, honey,” Stella begged.
“Listen, Stella. I didn’t tell you this earlier, but when Pete and I were back in the showers, he told me some things about these guys. He’s scared and told us to look for a way out,” Benny said, fabricating the facts to entice Stella to leave.
“I don’t know, sugar,” Stella said, pausing momentarily to grasp what Benny was saying. “I really think things are going to be fine. Maybe the door is a test. You know, to see if we are trustworthy enough to be let go.”
Benny shook his head. “Not gonna bank on that one, baby. Are you with me or not?”
Stella looked around the gathering room, contemplating her decision.
“Well, woman?” demanded Benny.
“Well, if you’re gonna talk to me like that, no, I’m not. I’ll stay right here,” Stella stated obstinately and leaned back on to the cushions.
Benny turned and raced down the corridor. With no hesitation he burst through the door at a full sprint. He began the climb bounding two steps at a time. After just two banks of one flight, he slowed and continued at a normal pace.
Back in the living quarters, Stella sat alone, agitated at being left by herself. She really thought that staying put was the right choice, but she didn’t want to be alone. She stood and walked down the corridor. As she neared the opening, she could here Benny’s feet stomping up the steel treads.
“Oh, hell,” Stella said aloud and returned to her room to gather her things. She hated being left alone, so she decided to catch up to Benny and make a run for it.
Passing SUB-6, Benny’s breath was hard and heavy. He didn’t think escaping out of the bowels of the bunker was going to be so exhausting. Slowing to conserve energy, he trudged onward. A moment later, he passed SUB-5.
Stella left the lights on in the gathering room as she slung her duffel bag over her left shoulder and walked down the corridor. Not rushing, she started at a slower pace climbing upward. There were so many stairs! She knew that Benny was going to be darn near spent when she caught up to him, so there was no rush.
Benny’s determination to make it out of captivity revved his adrenalin. So much so that he didn’t feel the leg cramps until it was too late. Feeling the weight of panic, he collapsed to one knee and nearly lost his balance. He moaned in pain, trying to rub the knots free in his calves. Several minutes passed and he began climbing again. His speed was reduced, but he was continually moving toward the exit. The womp-womp-womp of his heart was pounding is his ears, otherwise he would have heard Stella coming and waited. She was just a few flights below him now.
Passing SUB-2, he knew he was close. Benny drove on and he reached the landing for SUB-1. He walked down the corridor to the tunnel he had passed through weeks before. Once in the frigid tunnel, Benny leaned against the wall to catch his breath.
As he rested, he looked up and down the tunnel wondering which direction to go. There were no signs illuminating EXIT anywhere in sight. He tried to think back to his capture but came up with nothing. He made a choice and went left, hoping against hope that it was the right way.
Just as Benny began his trek down the tunnel, Stella reached SUB-1 and paused for a breather. Still tired from the tremendous climb, she moved slowly toward the tunnel. When she reached the intersection, she looked both directions. In the distance, she thought she could see a man moving away from her, but she couldn’t be sure. She called out “Benny!” but the man did not stop his movement.
As Benny steadily moved down the tunnel, the lights cast ominous shadows. He instinctively slid from shadow to shadow, staying out of the brightened areas as much as possible. As he neared the end of the tunnel, he recognized the newer framed door and knew he had chosen wisely. When placed with a directional choice, always go left, someone once told him. You’ll be right at least half the time. He reached for the door handle and gave it a twist. The latch moved minutely, but the door remained locked. He tried twisting the other way but the door remained sealed. Frustrated, Benny shook the handle fiercely, to no avail. The only thing it managed to do was draw Mark’s attention, who was sitting in a chair on the other side of the door.
Stella walked slowly down the tunnel after Benny. When she watched him try the door handle unsuccessfully, she giggled to herself. “Damn fool,” she whispered. She stopped and decided to wait for Benny to come to her, confirming that his escape plan was futile. As she watched, the door opened suddenly and a large man stepped through. When he appeared, she could see Benny try to jump past him. The large man grabbed Benny and pushed him to the floor. Stella almost screamed but remained quiet to avoid the guard’s attention. Subconsciously, she began to quietly step backward as she watched the fracas unfold.
Benny lay on the ground looking up. Mark was sneering down at him. Quickly analyzing his options, Benny figured he could either fight the man or cowardly retreat back down the ten flights of stairs. Benny was no coward, so that left one option.
“OK, you win,” Benny conceded. “Care to help me up?” He extended his hand out for Mark to tug him up.
Mark paused momentarily before stepping forward to pull Benny to his feet. As soon as he took Benny’s hand, the full force of Benny’s foot connected with his groin. Mark yelled out and crumpled to the ground, one hand grabbing his crotch and the other reaching for his gun.
Benny recoiled his extended leg and rolled to his knees. Pushing himself up, he lurched for the door. The door closed right as he grasped the handle. He tried turning it once again. Locked. He spun quickly just as Mark was pulling his pistol from its holster. Benny threw his bag at Mark’s head and ran back down the tunnel.
Stella, horrified, could only watch silently. Before she knew it, Benny was sprinting as fast as he could toward her. There was a look of recognition on his face and she heard him yell, “Run, Stella! RUN!” as the first bullet pierced his back. He didn’t fall immediately but staggered forward grasping for anything to stop his momentum. The second bullet split the air, and as it punctured his shoulder, Benny fell to the ground, gasping.
“NO!”
Stella screamed and ran back toward the stairs.
Mark shivered in pain, climbed to his feet, and walked down the tunnel after her. As he passed Benny’s now-lifeless body, he re-holstered his gun. He turned down the corridor to the stairway. That bitch wasn’t going anywhere.
CHAPTER 12
Three days to Linear Shift
It was the final weekend to spend with his family before the trip, and Peter had a lot planned for the Cooper clan. He had cleared it with Applegate earlier in the week and Trevor would be just a phone call away. It struck Peter as strange that in all the years they lived in and around the San Francisco area, they had never been to Alcatraz. They’d been to Ghirardelli Square and ridden the street cars to Fisherman’s Wharf, but had never taken the boat across the bay. They talked about hitting several attractions all week and although Alcatraz was discussed, it got bumped because the tour alone was around three hours long. That gave each of them time to choose a destination.
Trevor was punctual as usual. He again donned the black-tie chauffeur garb to dazzle the kids. It had the greatest impact on Tori, who was impressed with the ride and the presidential treatment. Trevor opened the door for her and assisted her in and out of the luxury town car. Brett found it entertaining, but his highlight was going to be the tour of the San Francisco Mint.
“Trevor, are you sure you don’t want to come to Chinatown with us? You could park the car and spend the day having a little fun,” Peter urged.
“Thank you, Mr. Cooper, but I will be fine dropping you off. Do you have a preference on where you would like to disembark?” Trevor asked.
“Uh, yeah. How about on the north end of Grant street. That way, we can head south and end up at California,” Peter replied.
“Is that where you would like me to pick you up?” Trevor inquired.
“No, we’re going to jump on a cable car and ride up to Grace Cathedral. You can pick us up there, but I’ll give you a call when we get close. It’ll be at least four hours. You sure you don’t want to come with us? I’m going to introduce the kids to dim sum. It’s good stuff . . .”
“I’ll be quite alright, Mr. Cooper. But thank you for the invitation,” Trevor replied as he maneuvered through the streets of the financial district.
Trevor pulled up to the curb near the intersection of Broadway and Grant and got out to open the doors for the kids. Peter stepped out and met them on the sidewalk in front of the New Sun Hong Kong restaurant.
“Thanks again, Trevor. Last chance if you want to change your mind. I’ll even buy you a pair of Baoding balls.”
“No need, it’s my pleasure, Mr. Cooper. I’ll see you later this afternoon,” Trevor replied politely. Then he quickly slid behind the wheel of the shiny black car and pulled off into the congested street.
“Wow, Dad. Your boss must really like you. You’ve had a personal driver ever since you started,” Tori said.
“I wouldn’t get too used to it, Tori. I think budget cuts will eliminate the driver next month,” Peter replied, repeating a rehearsed line from Applegate.
They crossed the street and began their stroll down Grant Street. As soon as they were on the sidewalk, Peter asked “Well? What do you guys think?”
Both Tori and Brett were in awe at the bustle of the patrons along Grant. It was Saturday and they would see the full ambiance of Chinatown. The streets were packed with tourists.
“Oh. My. God! I love it, dad.” Tori exclaimed as her eyes began to take in the gaudy scenery of Chinatown. She neared the first of what were probably hundreds of Chinese vendors along the street. Brett and Peter followed.
Once in the shop, Tori and Brett perused the packed shelves of mostly handcrafted Chinese products. Most of the displays were in the recognizable, yet unreadable Chinese characters.
“Dad,” Brett whispered. “What do the signs say? Can you read them?”
“You can ask, bub.” Peter replied, certain that the vendors get asked the same question several times a day. He was sure they appreciated the social interaction of running a tourist trap.
“I don’t wanna ask. Will you do it for me?”
Peter chuckled, “Sorry, dude. You’re on your own for this one. It’ll be good for you to talk to them.”
Brett remained silent and hoped that Tori would ask. It wasn’t long before she obliged when she asked the price for a particular hand painted doll. Brett sighed and walked away.
After a few minutes more in the shop, they stepped back onto the sidewalk and continued their southerly trek down the street. They walked into a few shops packed with shelves of similar handcrafted Chinese items. After seeing the same items in nearly every shop, Brett finally noticed the Chinese lanterns that were strung from light pole to light pole up and down the street.
“Wow. Check that out Tori,” Brett said pointing to the paper lanterns.
Tori looked up and smiled. “Cool.”
The next forty minutes were spent popping in and out of various shops through Chinatown. Brett successfully negotiated his purchase of a hand-carved wooden snake, while Tori filled her tote bag with random trinkets for her friends. As he watched his smiling kids working their way through the shop, Peter began to realize that this might be one of the last days he would spend with them. He swallowed back tears and tried to focus on the day.
As Tori haggled, Peter walked to the back of the shop and picked up a pair of the Chinese meditation balls he had tried to use to lure Trevor. He paid the owner and slid the box into Tori’s tote bag to carry.
Upon leaving the shop, Tori asked, “What about lunch, dad? I’m starved!”
Peter looked at Brett and he just nodded in agreement. “OK then. Let’s eat. It’s time you two tried dim sum.”
Brett, unsure, asked, “What’s dim sum?”
“It’s nothing scary, I promise. It’s just bite-sized portions of food, usually served in steamed baskets. You’ll like it, I promise.”
They continued their walk until they came upon a Cantonese restaurant and went in. They were promptly seated near the front window and brought a kettle of hot tea. Tori poured herself a cup, as did Peter. Brett, still unsure, watched Tori’s expression after tasting the hot liquid. She smiled in satisfaction, so Brett caved and poured himself a cup. Bringing the cup to his lips, he sipped and smiled. He proceeded to gulp his tea despite the temperature.
The menus were in both English and Cantonese, so no assistance was needed when they ordered. Each of the Cooper family chose a few selections, and fifteen minutes later their food was on the table. They ate family style, sampling from each of the six baskets until there was nothing left.
Once the dishes were cleared, Peter looked at Tori, then to Brett. They were still elated, amazed at the colorful decorations. Chinatown was such a different culture from what they knew, yet it had been only thirty to forty minutes away all their lives. Peter reflected on his life since Minnie had passed. He had lived so much of the past two years in self-pity and regret that he had lost focus of what was still important, what was always important: family. They should’ve been his number one priority. His only regret was that it took him so long to get back on track.
Moments later, their bill came. Peter promptly paid the check and they set off once again. Their walk down Grant passed in comfortable silence.
Thirty minutes later, when they arrived at Old St. Mary’s Center, Tori said, “OK, I think I’m about done with Chinatown. How much more is there?”
“This is where we head up California to Grace Cathedral,” replied Peter, noticing the looks of relief.
Serendipitously, the ringing of the cable car caught the kids’ attention. “Are we going to ride the trolley, dad?” asked Brett.
“I’m certainly not going to hike up that hill. It’s only four blocks, but it’s all uphill. These are long blocks. Mom and I walked this hill many times before you two were born.”
Brett smiled. Peter was unsure if it was because of hearing they were going to ride up or hearing mention of hi
s mom. It didn’t matter to Peter, he was just happy that his kids were having a good time.
They walked across the street to where the loading and unloading of passengers took place. Because the last car had passed just moments before, Peter knew they’d have to wait ten minutes for the next one to arrive. As they waited, Tori asked, “Dad, why are we going to this cathedral again?”
Peter paused to compose his response. “Before mom and I married, I was finishing up my degree in architecture. One of my final classes was on architectural history—a class that I should have completed in my freshman or sophomore year. Well, seeing as I held off on taking the class until my last year, it gave me a bit of an edge. I had to write my final report on a specific style of architecture or a historical building. I chose Grace Cathedral because of its beauty and my love of Gothic Revival architecture. My last semester in college, I made dozens of trips to the cathedral, and that is when I met your mother.”
Tori and Brett were captivated by Peter’s story, so he continued.
“When we met, I was sitting out front on the steps. It was a cool March morning, and the sun was just so high.” Peter held his hand up to a level just above the apex of the buildings. “The light was shining from behind and highlighted the face of the building. I was sitting alone, sketching the façade, when Mom sat down next to me. She didn’t say anything for a few minutes; she just watched me draw the cathedral freehand.”
The bell of the trolley broke his train of thought. As the cable car came to a stop, they climbed on board, but there were only two seats in the outfacing row. Peter let the kids sit, and he stood on the outer foot rail after paying the man at the controls. A moment later, they were teetering up the hill.
Tori and Brett, still looking up at Peter, waited for him to continue the story. He held up a finger, indicating “in a minute.” Street by street, the car climbed. It slowed and dinged at each stop, people climbing on or departing. Five minutes later, they pulled to a stop at Taylor Street, and they all got off. As Peter began to cross the street toward the cathedral, both kids slid a hand into his. He was delighted beyond words and could barely contain his emotions.
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