Trapped in the Mayan Tattoo

by Ronda Pauley

  “I’m sure,” Lowell said. “But I think she may start trying harder, considering what’s at stake.”

  Lowell looked at the building on the corner and then his eyes swept the surroundings, sucking it all in like a vacuum cleaner.

  “Ladies, I’ve already said too much. Good thing you’re here. This is where I leave you. Pay your admission to the museum but stay in character. We think you’ll be safe here. Could I take your briefcases up to your room?”

  Abbi looked up at Lowell and knew it would be alright. She had finally arrived. This was the point of delivery. She had already memorized the many facts from her mother’s notes and unfinished report, but letting go of the briefcase was not easy.

  “Don’t let anything happen to this,” Abbi said. “Incredibly important stuff.”

  “It will be with me until I can lock it in your room. Someone will let you know when your room is ready.”

  “Here?” Louise asked.

  “Yes. We’re housing you here. Remember, you don’t know me. I’m just the Gate Keeper, GK. Stay in the museum until you hear from either me or Big Sam. Now, if you will, right this way. Enjoy the museum.”

  Abbi and Louise entered the spy museum and, within five minutes of purchasing tickets and getting the museum wristband, GK texted the girls: ROOM IS READY. DOWN SOON TO GET YOU. MEET ME AT THE BOOKCASE IN THE SECOND ROOM.

  Louise looked perplexed.

  “We just got our tickets! I thought we’d get to look around,” she said, trying hard to take in the many different displays in the first room of the spy museum.

  “Maybe this is all we get. Remember why we’re here, Miss Soufflé,” Abbi said as she looked at a display showing a well-known and deeply-loved chef who had once been a spy. “This is pretty spectacular! Who knew?”

  As the girls moved past the displays to get to the second room, they saw some visitors playing a game. The visitors used assumed names and played different roles as they worked together to solve a mystery.

  “I want to play!” Louise said with her best French accent.

  “We already are, Mademoiselle. We’re just in a different game. We need to go to the next room.”

  As the girls entered the adjoining room, the door behind them automatically closed. In front of them was a large wooden bookcase. Instructions had said to go to the room beyond the bookcase.

  Suddenly they heard the unmistakable blare of a trumpet, as if it announced the approach of royalty. The bookcase suddenly slid sideways and revealed a hallway. GK approached them. With his trumpet still in hand, he lowered it from his lips.

  Abbi tried hard to stay in character but wondered if playing a trumpet made lips as kissable as she imagined.

  “Was that as fun for you as it was for me?” Abbi asked, teasing to put him on the spot.

  As if he didn’t hear, GK grandly said, “Welcome, Miss Kowalski, Miss Soufflé!” Then he bowed low, and hustled them into another chamber, not open to the public. He had a role to play as well.

  Others in the room they left behind may have thought it was actors staged by the museum. Abbi imagined they would try to find a secret latch.

  The bookcase slid back in place. GK led Louise and Abbi over to sit on a 1930’s chaise lounge in a room that had been designed to reconstruct the time of the gangsters during prohibition. He quickly updated them on what had transpired with negotiations. FBI had confirmed that Miss Shoe remained in tight seclusion in Mexico, still being held for ransom by her kidnappers. To complicate things, Lowell said, the powerful organization that held Miss Shoe also demanded other concessions that would interfere with our justice system. Abbi didn’t understand what that was about but she figured that both the FBI and NM2 were angry about the prior failed attempts at ransom. Things did not look good, but lucky for the FBI, the rescue team had not fallen into NM2’s trap. Neither had NM2 fallen into the snare the FBI might have set. Obviously, neither side trusted the other.

  Abbi swallowed hard. The ups and downs of this mission were taking a toll on her nerves.

  “We’ve made arrangements for you to see a man in the hospital, someone innocently injured in the line of duty.”

  “Thank you,” Abbi gushed. “That means so much.”

  “Yes, Miss Kowalski,” said GK mechanically. “He’s a good man. Follow me.”

  The girls were led to a wall of heavy wooden paneling. Although it might not be apparent to a person passing through, one panel was actually a hidden door. GK unlocked it, using just his thumbprint on a tiny pad placed in a knot of the wood.

  The door began to swivel enough to allow them to pass through a small opening. Then GK took them up through a dark narrow staircase that led to an equally narrow upstairs hallway. At least it was brightly lit. A row of doors lined one side of the hallway. Lowell unlocked one of the doors, again using only his thumbprint, and opened it to a small suite, complete with bed, couch, bathroom and a tiny kitchen.

  “This is where you’ll stay,” GK said.

  “In this apartment above the museum?” Louise asked. “How…?”

  “It’s too obvious to be obvious.”

  “I hear you!” Abbi said.

  “If you leave this apartment and go down the hall,” GK continued, “you’ll see our headquarters for operations.” He handed them small plastic cards and added, “These are your keycards. Keep them with you at all times. You can safely stash your things in this apartment. Your briefcases are already here in the closet. You will have a couple of hours of free time today if nothing goes wrong. Just in case, keep your phones nearby. Keep them charged. Someone will be watching you at all times.”

  From another entrance Big Sam appeared with their bags from the airport and said, “I don’t want to scare you girls, but you are aware that this is a serious matter we are dealing with. Keep a low profile. Don’t make my job more difficult than you already have. Clock in at 1700 at HQ.”

  “Thank you, Big Sam! Good to see you,” Abbi said.

  “1700 hours,” Big Sam said.

  He looked down. The bulk of his body seemed to grow heavier. Did she continually upset him?

  Abbi shook her head and turned to Lowell.

  “To clarify, that’s 5 o’clock this afternoon. Headquarters,” GK said, nodding down the hall as he started to leave.

  “Got it,” Louise said. “Is Scott anywhere around?”

  Big Sam sighed.

  GK added, “The responsibility will rest on you ladies to be at headquarters on time, precisely. As Gate Keeper, I have my orders also. Do as I say or I cannot let you enter. Knock two times, only two, and give your password. When you get in, listen. Speak only when spoken to. Stay safe.”

  “Password?” Louise asked.

  “In the packet,” Abbi said, and then turned to Lowell. “Is the interpreter still coming?”

  “I believe so, yes,” he said.

  She sighed, trying not to be jealous, and touched his trumpet.

  “Hey, thanks! That was fun!” she said.

  By now it was obvious that Big Sam had lost his patience. He cleared his throat.

  “Stay here for ten minutes. Then you’re free to leave. Better still, take a nap,” Big Sam said. “Stay out of trouble.”

  Big Sam left the room.

  “Just stay together, ladies,” GK said. “Now that you’re here, I have other matters to tend. Enjoy the museum.”

  “Big Sam has to keep following us?” Louise whispered.

  “You will not always see him, but he’ll see you. I promise,” GK said. “He’s highly trained and this place is amazing. Try not to upset him again, Miss Kowalski.”

  “Why do I upset him?” Abbi asked.

  Lowell shrugged.

  Louise looked at Abbi and then hastily searched the tiny apartment. When she found that the pint-sized refrigerator held fresh sandwiches, salads and drinks, she ate heartily. Abbi munched on a sandwich and spent a few minutes speed-reading the reports in her briefcase for anything she may have overlooked. Some of w
hat she read was very disturbing. She was happy to leave their suite when Louise was ready.

  Abbi imagined that she and Mademoiselle Soufflé had two hours of relative freedom while Big Sam would spend his time tracking their every move. Meanwhile, Mrs. Hightower would be reading over her copy of Miss Shoe’s draft, the unofficial and unsubmitted report of her joint NM/ NM2 investigation, especially the detailed explanation of NM2, which had grown into a more insidious group, one that no longer answered to NM.

  There was nothing more that Abbi could do right this moment to rescue her mother and there was a spy museum to explore downstairs. She decided to relax and have fun. Besides, Abbi’s curiosity was peaking when she heard shuffling noises and voices under their floor while she was reading. She wanted to know why she could hear it and how to get there.

  “This building is busy today,” Abbi said. “Let’s go find out what’s here.”

  Louise came out with some of the snacks she stowed in her suitcase. Abbi wondered how she could still be hungry.

  The girls closed the door to their apartment and, huddling near the door in the hallway, listened intently until they heard more shuffling noises. Then Big Sam entered the hallway from another room that Abbi hadn’t noticed earlier.

  Abbi whispered, “I’m so glad we have a little free time. Think we can lose him?”

  “Yeah, maybe!” Louise said.

  Backtracking the way they came, through the hallway and toward what they thought would be the stairs, the girls searched various wall panels to find the panel Lowell had unlocked for them. The panels appeared different, not in color or form, but in location. The hallway twisted and came to an abrupt dead end. That explained some of the noise. Abbi tried inserting her keycard into cracks in the textured wall.

  Confused, Abbi looked back where Big Sam had been.

  “Where’d he go? There’s got to be a way out. They wouldn’t just leave us trapped!” Abbi said.

  “Wouldn’t they?” Louise asked. “I think they want us trapped so they know where we are.”

  “Let’s go where Sam went!”

  Abbi looked for cameras.

  “You know they’re watching us!”

  “And laughing at us. Let’s just go back and take a nap like Big Sam said,” Louise said.

  “That’s too easy,” Abbi said, pushing on the wall, trying to find a place to insert her card or put her thumb. “They may watch our every move and listen to every word we say but, if so, they’ll know we’re not quitters!”

  “You think there’s a hidden panel?” Louise said.

  “There’s probably a place to insert my keycard. Ssh! Listen,” Abbi said, pressing her ear against the lower part of the wall.

  “It sounds like shuffling feet!” Louise said.

  “But softer. Maybe crawling. And laughing. It’s kids!”

  “But where?” Louise asked.

  “In tunnels or in the ductwork!” Abbi said. “Somewhere, there’s ductwork big enough to get into. Let’s find it!”

  “But we’re stuck here,” Louise said. “Remember?”

  “There’s got to be a way out,” said Abbi.

  “You girls looking for something?” a distorted voice called.

  “Where are you?” Abbi called, spinning around, recognizing the unmistakably mocking tone, if not the voice. She couldn’t see anyone.

  “These are actually two-way mirrors. We changed the hallway panels around to form new angles. We dimmed the lighting. Just playing with the system. You like the effect?”

  “GK, quit,” said Abbi. She kept trying to make something move so she could leave.

  Now that she looked more closely she could faintly see tracks on the floor and ceiling, similar to railroad tracks at a busy terminal, only small and thin. The tracks allowed wall panels to be moved in different positions.

  “You’re persistent. We need that quality in you,” said a different, deeper voice, sounding more serious.

  Slowly the lights in the hallway dimmed more and Abbi saw the two-way mirrors. On the other side of the panel, Lowell and Big Sam came into focus. Both were laughing.

  “Had your fun? It’s been a long day for us. Let us go!” Abbi protested. “We want to see the museum.”

  The lights brightened slowly.

  “You’re kind of in the museum, in a display! Only this part isn’t open to the public,” GK said. “Tell me your name. Maybe I’ll let you out.”

  “You KNOW who I am, Lowell!” Abbi protested.

  “First lesson, girls.” Big Sam’s voice cut through the confusion like a knife through butter. “Use only assumed names during this entire operation. It’s very important so that no one will know your true identity. Or ours. Don’t mess this up. Lives depend on it. Your lives.” Big Sam’s patience had worn thin.

  “But I want out now,” Abbi said in protest. She knew if she was tired, Big Sam had to be exhausted, but that was no excuse for being so grumpy.

  “I brought you here. I can send you home. This is training. We must work as a team. What is your name, please?” he said.

  “Miss Kowalski,” Abbi said, hoping that if she cooperated, he’d lighten up.

  “And yours, mademoiselle?”

  “I’m Mademoiselle Soufflé,” Louise said. “Can you please let us out, Big Sam?”

  Big Sam hesitated, then turned to GK.

  “Gate Keeper, you know what to do.”

  GK dimmed the lights again so that Abbi could see him. He looked at Abbi sternly.

  “Give me your hand,” he said with authority. Abbi wondered at this strange new role for her friend. He settled into it the same way he did everything else. With ease.

  “How can I give you my hand? We’re on opposite sides.”

  GK reached toward her. She reached toward him and touched his hand where he indicated, through a part of the panel that looked solid. GK grabbed her thumb and twisted.

  “OW!” Abbi yelled. “How did…? What…?”

  “Press here with just your thumb!” he said, manipulating her thumb.

  Mounted on the wall beside the strange panel was a barely-noticeable pad. Abbi pressed her thumb on it and watched the panel rotate, activated not by push-button but by a fingerprint-reading device.

  “Amazing!” Louise whispered. “Can I try?”

  Abbi wondered how they had her thumbprint.

  “You can try!” GK said.

  Louise tried but nothing happened.

  “Miss Kowalski, your thumbprint has not changed in all the time it’s been on file,” Big Sam said.

  “And that is how long?” Abbi demanded.

  “I couldn’t say.”

  Abbi was starting to bristle.

  “When I say ‘I couldn’t say’, it doesn’t mean ‘I don’t know’. Never confuse the two,” Big Sam said quietly. “What’s important is it works well with our biometric fingerprint locks. Oh, and never ever use that tone with me again, Miss Kowalski. I know where you live and I can see that you get back there safely. Or not.”

  Abbi was tired of Big Sam’s annoying attitude. She lowered her voice but said intently, “Is that a threat? My mother’s life is at stake. Stop toying with me. This is not a game for me, and I’m not here to amuse you. Just show me how to get around while we’re here and I’ll try to do as you say when the time comes.”

  “As you wish, Miss Kowalski. We’ll begin with how to find headquarters, how to enter, how to exit.”

  FORTY-NINE

  After Abbi and Louise finished what Abbi called “Entry Access 101”, which took about twenty minutes of training to learn where and how the multiple forms of keyless entry worked, the girls successfully walked into the museum via secret passage.

  Big Sam said they could go casual. In shorts and tank tops that they had used for sleeping, and without their name badges and suits, they looked like regular teenage summertime tourists. Following orders, Abbi promised to wear the bugging device Big Sam gave her. She tried to keep in mind that the surveillance people at
headquarters would be able to hear every word she said.

  Louise tried not to speak and kept busy texting her mother and getting no response.

  The girls went downstairs, once the panel was rearranged so that they could, and played spy games like other kids who were assuming different identities. For Abbi and Louise the real-life stakes were higher. They avoided using names except their assumed ones and spoke very little.

  This bugging device would work not only for surveillance of Abbi but also would remind her to watch her tongue. That became increasingly difficult for her to do. Abbi didn’t want anything but her parents. Anxiety, fatigue and disappointment had caused her to get rude with Louise. She hoped playing around and having some fun with Louise would snap her out of it.

  The games were fun, but Abbi liked the gadgets more and there were several to examine. An explosive lump of coal, an assassin’s umbrella, and a lipstick pistol, all actual tools created for spies. These things intrigued her. She wondered what tools her mother may have used in her arsenal. Abbi stored up a thousand questions to ask her.

  Another thing that intrigued Abbi was overhead--she could hear children crawling through the ductwork that wound through the various rooms of the museum. She was determined to get into it. If she heard children in these ducts from her apartment, then she reasoned that she might be able to hear other sounds from inside the ductwork--maybe staff in headquarters discussing their plans, plans that would involve her. She looked for the entrance, half expecting it to be hidden.

  Finally she saw a sign with a hand pointing to a concealed stairway that would lead them to the ducts. Abbi coaxed Louise to wait in line with other kids about to enter the stairway. A worker checked the height and weight limits. Louise barely made it past screening and then found it difficult to get into the ductwork. Abbi’s smaller frame passed easily. Some bigger teenagers were turned away, including one very chubby boy who was short enough but too wide. Abbi felt sad for him.

  Louise bolted.

  “I’m not sure I want to. It’s grubby in there.”