When Darkness Builds (The Caldera Series)

by M. C. Sutton

  Emma sighed. “Fine.”

  As they walked past the Dallins’ door on their way down to the atrium, Aaron popped out and scared Emma half to death.

  “Damn it, Aaron!”

  “Sorry, Emma,” he said, trying to hold in his laughter. “I take it you guys couldn’t sleep either?”

  “No,” said Jon.

  “Well, what do you say we find out what’s happened to the juice, then?”

  Rachael pushed through the door behind him.

  “Whoa!” said Aaron, stopping her. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

  “Very funny,” said Rachael.

  “Actually, you know what?” said Jon. He pointed at Aaron. “You come with me.” Then he grabbed Emma by the arm and pulled her toward the Dallins’ door. “And you two stay here.”

  “What?” the girls said together.

  “Jon!” said Emma.

  “No,” he answered. “This is not up for discussion.”

  Rachael opened her mouth to speak.

  Jon cut her off. “From either of you. It’s too dangerous, especially for you, Em.”

  “Aaron?” said Rachael.

  “The man is right, Rae. Besides, it’s best for Emma. No one will look for her in our room, and she shouldn’t be left alone.”

  Rachael looked at Emma and sighed. “Yeah, I guess you’re probably right.”

  Emma crossed her arms and frowned.

  “All right, we’ll be back as soon as we figure out what’s going on,” said Jon. “It shouldn’t take too long. Emmy, promise me you will not leave this room.”

  “But Jon—”

  “Promise me.”

  Emma sighed. “All right, I promise. Just please be careful.”

  Jon and Aaron started their search in the atrium. It didn’t surprise Jon at all to find not a single FBI agent anywhere. If there had been someone around, they could have asked what was going on and been done with it. But instead they had to sweep through the first floor with nothing more than the dimness of their cheap hotel flashlights.

  The more they walked, the more tired Jon got. He kept thinking he would just as soon be in his own bed. This, of course, made him think about home, and his kids. It was kind of funny how, no matter how old they got, he still worried about them.

  “You and Rachael ever thought about having kids, Aaron?” said Jon.

  Aaron answered quietly, “We did have one, actually. A little boy. He was killed in the riots when we were trying to flee Cairo.”

  “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry.”

  “No, it’s okay. We all knew the risks, right? So many of us are afraid to even have kids now, with the world the way it is. But Rachael, she was pretty insistent. I certainly don’t regret it. I’m sure you know what I mean, though, having three of them. I imagine Emma got to you too.”

  “Actually, it wasn’t Emma who was the insistent one.”

  They turned a corner into a hallway, and Jon stopped suddenly. Down the hall, in the darkness, danced a faint red light.

  Both men quickly turned off their flashlights.

  CHAPTER 10

  I can’t believe I’m doing this.

  Sam sat on the edge of his bed on the top floor of the hotel. Those who had been chosen to work the convention, including himself and the others from his team who had strategically placed themselves in position as hotel employees, had each been assigned a room. The people in charge of security apparently felt it would be easier to keep up with everyone’s comings and goings if the people who were supposed to be there stayed there. It had made things much easier on their plans, but much harder on him. He missed his family something terrible.

  He stared down at the photo of the three of them in his hand, unwilling to admit to himself that he would probably never see them again. If his team was caught, he would be going to jail for a long, long time. Then, of course, if things went really wrong, there was always the possibility that he wouldn’t be coming back at all.

  And even if everything went exactly according to plan, then what? He wondered if he should go back. If she knew what he was doing, would Claire even let him come home?

  He looked over at the phone. He knew he couldn’t call her. If he was to keep her out of this, he couldn’t contact her now. They would be able to trace the phone records from his room, and they’d accuse her of having been an accomplice. So he had kept her in the dark about everything. It made him feel guilty. He had never once lied to his wife before this. But in order to protect her and Cole, this was the way it had to be.

  What he could do, though, was write to her. A letter he could get to her later, when everything was said and done. Or someone else could get it to her—if the worst ended up happening to him.

  He found a notepad and pen in the bedside table.

  My dearest Hummingbird,

  I cannot even begin to imagine how hard all of this is for you. Please know that I never wanted to deceive you, but you must know why I did. I could not bear for you to have to suffer for my decision any more than I know you already will. I just hope that one day you will be able to understand why I chose to do this…

  The knock on the door came just as he finished the letter. He slipped it inside the notebook and returned it to the back pocket of his slacks. He took a long, deep breath before opening the door.

  The towering image of Mac stood just outside. “You ready, Hackett?”

  Sam nodded.

  They stopped a few doors down to pick up Rat. That’s what everyone called him, though his real name was Eric Reynolds. Sam wasn’t sure where Reynolds got his nickname, though it was easy to guess. Rat was small and shifty, with dirty blond hair and jerky mannerisms, like a rodent incessantly popping its head in and out of a hole in the wall. Where in the world Mac had found this kid, Sam didn’t know, but Rat was supposed to be good at what it was they needed him to do.

  As they stood just inside the door to the stairwell, they stared down at their watches.

  “And three, two, one…” said Hackett. The light beside the door went out.

  They took the stairs two at a time, by the soft glow of the red lights they held in their hands. Sam was impressed at how quietly and quickly the other men moved. Given Mac’s military background, this didn’t surprise him, but he wondered what kind of work Rat had done before this. Rat didn’t strike Sam as the military type.

  Not a single FBI agent was in sight on the first floor, just as planned. Now they just had to make it across the atrium to the security office in the back hallway.

  They made their way along the outer edge of the atrium, beneath the second-floor mezzanine. Just as they got to the halfway point, however, they heard the startled scream of a woman on the floor just above them. They all stopped and looked at each other, then turned off their lights.

  Sam could hear voices above them, though he couldn’t make out what they were saying.

  He glanced at his watch. If they were going to do this, they had to go now. Mac must have felt the same way, because he turned on his light, and the three of them booked it the rest of the way across the atrium and down the back hall.

  The door to the security office was already unlocked. Sam guessed that security had been there monitoring cameras just up until the point when the power went out. Where they went after that, he wasn’t sure. He knew Mac had a contact on the inside, but still, this seemed a little too easy.

  “How much time do we have?” Sam whispered.

  “Enough,” said Mac.

  The security office featured a wall of screens, showing feeds from around the hotel. A backup power source kept the monitors and cameras running, but almost all the images were black, with the lights in the hotel out.

  But they weren’t interested in the screens. They needed to get into the small room just off the side of the office. And that door was locked.

  Rat knelt in front of the doorknob and pulled a small tool kit from his backpack. Holding his flashlight in his mouth, he set to work picking the
lock.

  “And voila.” The door popped open. “See?” said Rat. “Piece of cake.”

  “Yeah, that’s great, kid,” said Mac, pushing him into the room. “Now finish the job.”

  The room was filled floor to ceiling with cables, electrical boxes, and tubing. What they were looking for specifically was an access point that would allow them to hack into the security cameras and monitor everything that went on inside the hotel.

  “How exactly is this supposed to work, Rat?” Sam asked.

  Rat dropped his backpack on the floor and pulled out a lantern and a small plastic box. “See this?” he said, holding up the box. “This is a wireless transmitter. Once we get this thing connected to the main line, in there,” he said, pointing to one of the metal boxes on the wall, “we’ll be able to see everything they see. That way, we can keep an eye on everything that’s going on from right inside the conference room.”

  “Yeah, fantastic,” said Mac. He stood just inside the outer door, keeping watch. “Can we get a move on, please?”

  Rat worked as quickly as possible. Using the schematic they had been given in advance, he found the main access point and spliced it to his wireless transmitter, which he hid behind some cabling.

  “How do we know for sure that it works?” Sam asked.

  “We’ll have to test it,” Rat answered, pulling a tablet from his pack.

  “You just better pray that it does, kid,” said Mac. He grabbed the tablet and shoved it back into Rat’s backpack, then threw the bag at him. “’Cause we got company.”

  Sam peered out the outer office door. Down the hall were two faint yellow lights. Suddenly, they went out.

  Sam looked back at Mac and Rat. “Time to go.”

  Their own faint red lights provided enough light for them to see by, but not enough to give away their identities. They walked quietly down the hall, away from the owners of the yellow lights, but Sam heard their footsteps following.

  The hallway ran behind one of the atrium restaurants, then turned and opened onto the kitchen. Since all three of them were in hotel uniform, Sam figured if they just walked inconspicuously into the kitchen, they could simply talk their way out of this, even if they got caught.

  That option disappeared when Mac suddenly took off.

  Mac, you reckless idiot!

  Sam broke into a run behind him. He glanced over his shoulder. The two flashlights had turned back on. They had definitely aroused their pursuers’ suspicions.

  Great.

  Just as they raced through the back door into the kitchen, the hotel lights came on. They’d never make it across the atrium now without being seen. Their only hope was to hide in the storage closet off to the side of the kitchen. Sam unlocked it, and the three of them pressed inside and pulled the door shut behind them. They quickly discovered there was no way to lock it from the inside.

  Their pursuers burst into the kitchen. “Where did they go?” said a man’s voice.

  “They couldn’t have gotten far,” said another.

  Sam and Mac both stood with their ears to the door, barely breathing. Rat squatted on the floor behind them.

  “I think we should probably just get back upstairs,” the first man said. “We’ve left Emma and Rachael alone too long.”

  Emma? Sam suddenly recognized that voice. He’d heard it at the private guest dinner in the banquet hall. The man on the other side of the door was Dr. Grant’s husband.

  “Wait, Jon,” said the other voice. “There’s a door over here.”

  Mac clenched his fist around the doorknob and pulled something dark and metallic from behind his back. Even in the dimness of Rat’s red light, Sam recognized the object immediately. He grabbed Mac’s wrist.

  “No!” he whispered.

  Mac sneered down at him.

  “No casualties! We agreed.”

  The doorknob began to jiggle. Mac tightened his grip. Sam held his breath and readied himself to take the gun from Mac if he had to. He wasn’t prepared to kill anyone. Especially Jonathan Grant.

  “Well,” said Grant, “so much for that. The door’s locked.”

  “Come on then,” said the other guy. “Let’s get back up to the room. Maybe they escaped through the atrium.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” Grant sounded disappointed.

  “At least the power came back on.”

  Only when the voices and footsteps faded did Sam release his death grip on Mac. Mac pushed his gun into the front of his waistband, pulled his vest down over it, and rubbed his wrist.

  “Holy crap, that was close,” said Rat.

  “Yeah, too close.” Mac glared at Sam. “If they’d found us, it would have blown the entire operation.”

  “But they didn’t find us, did they? And what’s with the gun? How’d you even get it in here, anyway?” He started to open the door.

  Mac slammed it shut. “I know who that was, Hackett. It was that doctor’s nosy husband. He followed me through the hotel earlier today. They’re getting too suspicious. I should have gotten rid of him when I had the chance.”

  “No, dammit.” Sam shoved Mac against the door and held him there. “No one dies. Not on my watch.” He was too mad now to care that Mac was three times his size.

  “You’re getting soft, Hackett,” said Mac. “If you don’t have what it takes to get the job done, I suggest you turn it over to someone who does.”

  Sam pulled Mac’s gun from his belt and pointed it right at his face. “This is my job, Mackenzie, and I will decide how it goes. If you can’t handle that, then maybe you should walk away. Because the rest of us are not risking our lives because of your stupidity. Are we clear?”

  Mac glared at him. “Crystal.”

  Sam held him there, staring him straight in the eyes.

  Mac stared right back.

  “Good.” Sam let him go and pushed the gun into the front of his own pants. “Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

  CHAPTER 11

  “WELL, WHAT DID YOU FIND out?” Rachael asked from the sofa as Jon and Aaron walked in.

  “Absolutely nothing,” answered Aaron, plopping down beside her.

  “I knew I should have gone too!” she said.

  Jon sat down on the edge of the bed where Emma lay curled up on her side, asleep. He pushed her hair from her face. At least she was finally able to get some rest.

  “I don’t know, honey,” said Aaron. “I don’t think even the famous Rachael Dallin could have sniffed out much in the pitch black down there.”

  “Well, it wasn’t completely dark,” said Jon.

  Rachael looked at Aaron.

  “We saw a few people with flashlights, down in the back hallway. We followed them, but then lost them in the kitchen,” Aaron explained.

  Rachael pouted, as if she were hurt that she couldn’t have been involved in the excitement.

  “Well,” said Jon, “I guess we should get back to our room. Let you guys try to salvage the rest of your night.” He shook Emma gently. “Come on, Em.”

  “What ‘rest of the night’?” asked Rachael. “It’s six o’clock in the morning.”

  Jon looked over at the alarm clock on the dresser. Sure enough, it was fifteen minutes after six. The hotel staff would be coming around with breakfast soon. The exhaustion from getting very little sleep for two straight nights suddenly hit him.

  He pulled Emma to her feet and guided her down the hall toward their room. He hadn’t missed his bed this much since leaving the Guard. All he wanted was to crawl between the sheets of that big, king-sized bed and sleep until this stupid convention was over. If he’d had the energy to do it, he would have picked Emma up and carried her just so he could get there faster.

  “Well, well, well,” said a voice from behind him. “If it isn’t the Grants.”

  Jon cringed. Just when he thought the night couldn’t get any worse. The slimeball attached to that voice was the absolute last person he wanted to run into just then. Jon wondered if he had the energy left to
restrain himself from punching the guy right in the nose.

  “Captain Grant,” said Bennett.

  Jon turned around, pulling Emma behind him to put himself between her and Bennett.

  “And what exactly are two upstanding individuals such as yourselves doing leaving someone else’s room so early in the morning?” Bennett asked.

  This meant, of course, that Bennett had made a point of knowing which room was theirs. “We were just visiting a friend,” Jon answered. “I’m sure you of all people can understand that.”

  Bennett narrowed his eyes. “Indeed.”

  “And what about you, Minister?” said Jon. “What is someone no doubt accustomed to wandering hallways late at night doing up so early in the morning?”

  “Oh, I prefer to keep a close watch on my surroundings, as well as those who inhabit them. One might be surprised by just how much is revealed about an individual when they think no one else is watching,” Bennett answered, with an insanely annoying smirk. He raised an eyebrow at Emma. “I think perhaps you should get your wife back to bed, Captain. It would appear she is completely exhausted. Something that can all too often affect one’s judgment, I’m afraid. Yes, I believe she could perhaps do with a nice… long… nap. I’d hate for anything unfortunate to happen to her.”

  Bennett smiled that arrogant half-smile that made Jon want to break the guy’s face.

  “Enjoy the rest of your morning, Captain.” Bennett turned and headed back down the hall.

  Jon watched him till he turned the corner. Only then did he unclench his fist and start to breathe again. I am too old for this.

  “Come on, sweetheart,” he said, putting his arm around Emma. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

  His mind was almost beyond numb, he was so tired. If it wasn’t for the fact that their little encounter in the hall had pushed his blood pressure through the roof, he might very well have fallen asleep standing up. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed next to Emma, both of them physically and mentally spent, too tired to move and yet too shaken to sleep. And in less than two hours, Emma had to give her presentation.