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by Robert L. Wise

  “I—I’d be extremely grateful,” the young woman said. Nancy’s brunette hair surrounded her youthful-appearing face with a touch of class. Her large brown eyes stayed fixed on Matt, mesmerized by what he was doing. “I truly, truly want out of this dump.”

  Matt set down the thermite and pulled the video camera from his briefcase. “Both of you, look at me like I’m an attorney talking to you. I’ve got to get you down on tape, so act normal.” He set the video camera on a small table and aimed it at the women.

  While Mary and Nancy talked into the lens, Matt inspected the floor again. The chemical was cutting as quickly as he expected, but the scent of the chemical burned his eyes. He picked up the can and poured more solution into the ruts burning through the cement.

  “In a few moments, I’m going to give you some clothing. I want you to get out of those orange jail suits and into these duds as quickly as you can. When this section falls out of the floor, you’re going to jump into the hole. It’s about a five-foot drop. When you hit the bottom, follow me, and I’ll get us out of here.”

  After a couple of minutes, Matt switched off the camera and tossed the clothing at the women. “Change quickly,” he said, “while I get this VCR unit in place. Fortunately, it’s one of those new cameras that projects a digitally refined picture. You’ll look natural.” He pulled the small table in front of the window mirror.

  Matt quickly positioned the VCR so it projected on the back wall opposite the large two-way mirror behind him. A picture flashed on the white wall that looked exactly like Mary and Nancy sitting there talking to someone. He flipped the repeat switch and the endless loop began.

  “We’re ready,” Mary said. “You tell us when and we’ll jump.”

  Matt watched the circle burning through the floor. “Let’s see what’s left.” He stomped in the center. A cracking sound echoed across the room. “Here we go.” Matt grabbed one of the chairs and pushed it against the ring.

  With a crumbling noise the two-foot circle of floor broke loose and crashed down below them. Matt grabbed the women’s orange jumpsuits and threw them in the hole. “Cushions your jump and keeps them out of sight,” Matt said.

  Mary stared into the black hole. “Absolutely awesome!”

  “Follow me,” Matt instructed the women. “Stay close.”

  “I’m ready,” Nancy said.

  Matt dropped into the hole and Nancy followed him. Mary brought up the rear. The three huddled beneath the low ceiling with pipes and wires running everywhere. The area smelled musty, like no one had been in there for years.

  “I locked the door when I came in,” Matt said. “They’ll have to break it down to get in. Through the two-way mirror they can only see images being projected on the wall. Those little adjustments should slow the cops down for a while.”

  Suddenly a dull boom echoed down the walkway. In a moment a strange smell drifted across the pipes and wire cables.

  “Run,” Matt said. “Adah’s set off an explosion on the fourth floor. Stay with me, and I’ll lead you out of here!”

  CHAPTER 58

  BECAUSE SHE HAD COMPLETELY underestimated the force of the explosion, it knocked Adah backward, rolling her down the next section of stairs. Hovering on the landing of the third floor under a cloud of smoke, Adah lay stunned on the cement floor. Slowly her awareness returned, but she couldn’t hear a sound.

  “Got to get out of here,” Adah mumbled to herself. “Must get up.”

  Her knees ached, and her back throbbed. Adah felt along the side of her face and discovered her nose was bleeding. Blood ran down the side of her face from a cut on the side of her forehead.

  I don’t think I can move, Adah thought. Maybe I broke a bone, a rib . . . but . . . I’ve got to get up . . . get out of here.

  Adah remembered the plugs in her ears and carefully removed them. Somewhere above her she heard people coughing and a few voices shouting.

  “Smoke! Get out of here!”

  “Run!”

  Adah knew she had to get up off the floor and force herself down the stairs. The smoke was beginning to make her dizzy, and she feared passing out again. The acrid smell lingering in the air carried an awful stench. She reached for the handrail to pull herself up but fell back on the landing.

  A cop burst into the central security office. “There’s been an explosion on the fourth floor!” he shouted. “Can you pick it up on your cameras?”

  Smith rushed to the monitors. All he could see on the fourth floor were clouds of smoke obscuring everything. “Lord help us! We’ve got a big problem up there.”

  “I don’t know what’s happening,” the policeman said. “I can’t find any evidence that prisoners have escaped yet.”

  Smith picked up the telephone again and dialed the mayor’s office.

  “City of Chicago,” the operator said. “Office of . . .”

  “Listen,” Smith barked. “Don’t you shut me off again. This is Smith over in Central Security in the Cook County Jail. We’ve just had an explosion over here. Now, you get the mayor on the line right now!”

  The operator hesitated a moment. “Okay,” she finally answered.

  After thirty seconds, Connie Reeves answered. “This is the mayor’s office. Is there a problem?”

  “You bet there is!” Smith pushed. “We’ve had an explosion at the jail, and someone is running around using an ID tag with Al Meachem’s name while the card is marked with numbers for Graham Peck.”

  “What?” Reeves’s voice elevated.

  “And we have another ID for Connie Reeves.”

  “I’m Connie Reeves! And I’m not there in the jail!”

  “Well, the numbers fit a secretary we have listed as Sarah Cates.”

  “On my God!” Reeves gasped. “Here’s the mayor.”

  Smith quickly explained the situation to Bridges. “We don’t know who’s loose over here,” he concluded. “Al Meachem, Graham Peck, Sarah Cates, who?”

  “Listen to me carefully,” the mayor said. “Al Meachem is standing here next to me. You have Graham Peck loose in your building. Call in maximum security for the entire jail. I’m on my way over there!”

  CHAPTER 59

  A STRONG HAND REACHED under Adah Honi’s body and lifted her up. The policeman glanced at the ID tag identifying her as Connie Reeves, and then pulled Adah to her feet.

  “Connie, we’ve got to get you out of here.” The policeman started walking her down the stairs.

  “Thank you,” Adah barely mumbled. “I fell down.”

  “Yeah,” the cop said, “and you need to get out of this smoke. I’ll get you down to the bottom exit.”

  They struggled down the three flights of stairs. When they reached the bottom, an officer was standing at the door with his gun drawn.

  “Got to get her out into the fresh air,” the policeman said. “She’s one of us.”

  The officer at the door nodded. “Move it,” he said.

  By this time, Adah’s legs felt stronger, and she was walking. “Thanks,” she barely gasped.

  “Sit down here on this metal bench,” the policeman said. “I’m going back in to help other people.”

  Adah nodded silently. “Thanks.” The man disappeared back inside the open door.

  Sirens were blasting away with an unbearable sound, and people were running everywhere.

  “Got to get away,” Adah said to herself. She stood up and covered her ears. With her ID tag swinging around her neck, Adah stumbled down the street. She glanced over her shoulder and saw smoke pouring out the fourth-floor windows of the jail. Adah kept walking down the street.

  At the corner, she stopped to get her bearings. At first nothing made any sense, but finally the lay of the land came into focus. Matt’s car had to be two streets over. With all the strength she could muster, Adah crossed the street and walked down the alley. The sirens continued to blare across the boulevards with nonstop insistency.

  At the end of the alley, she looked across the street, ho
ping to see the ten-year-old hydrogen-propelled vehicle they had obtained from Alice Masterson. The space was empty.

  Adah blinked several times but slowly realized the truth. It had taken her much longer to get out of the building than she realized. The fall and the bump on her head had left her on the floor for who knew how long. Matt had done exactly as he should have by leaving. He concluded she might have been captured and took off with the other two women.

  Adah sagged against the building. She had to get out of there before the police caught her. Limping, Adah hurried down the street in an unknown direction with no idea where she was going.

  CHAPTER 60

  WHEN THE MAYOR’S LIMOUSINE pulled up in front of the Cook County Jail, Frank Bridges could see policemen standing everywhere with guns drawn. Several fire engines were already on the scene, but the smoke had disappeared from the windows. Bridges and Meachem rushed from the car and broke through the police lines.

  “Where’s an officer in the internal security unit named Smith?” Bridges barked. “Central Security?”

  “I’m not sure,” the policeman said. “The jail’s turned into a madhouse. You’ll have to keep asking.”

  Bridges and Meachem started running from policeman to policeman, looking for the one man. After five minutes, they found Officer Smith standing with a group of five policemen.

  “I’m the mayor,” Bridges began, “and this is Al Meachem. What’s going on inside the jail?”

  “That’s my question,” Officer Smith said. “We got an ID number for Graham Peck with Meachem’s name on it. Connie Reeves’s ID came through for a woman named Cates. About that time we had an explosion on the fourth floor. This place went crazy.”

  “Okay, okay,” Bridges said. “Where did this man calling himself Meachem go?”

  “We’re not sure. He had two prisoners brought down to the attorneys’ interview room on the second floor. From there, we lost track of ’em.”

  Bridges beckoned for Meachem to follow him and hurried into the building. Quickly clearing all the security checkpoints, they took the elevator to the second floor. Several policemen were guarding the hall.

  “Get me into the interview room right now,” Bridges ordered one of the cops.

  “Certainly.” The officer tried the door. “It’s locked,” he said. “Strange. Hmm. There’s a two-way mirror on the other side. We can look in and see who’s there before we break it down.”

  “Do it!” the mayor ordered.

  The officer opened the next door down the hall and the three men entered. “The glass makes people look a little distant,” the cop explained.

  “Look!” Meachem said. “It’s them! The two women! Peck’s daughter and Nancy Marks.”

  Bridges stared. “How come they didn’t get away? And Graham Peck’s not in there!”

  “They’re just sitting there talking,” the officer said.

  “Turn on the mike,” the mayor ordered, “I want to hear what they’re saying.”

  The policeman threw the switch. No sound came out. He wiggled the switch back and forth. “I don’t understand. It’s never done this before. We always hear what they’re saying.”

  Meachem pressed closer to the glass. “Hey!” he said. “I don’t think there’s people in that room. Those are video images.”

  “Break that door down!” Bridges shouted. “Get in there.”

  The men rushed toward the interview room door. Meachem and the cop hit the door with the full force of their combined weight. Instantly the lock broke and the door banged open.

  Bridges stared at the pictures flashing against the back wall and the hole in the floor under a small table that concealed it from anyone looking through the mirror. He walked slowly across the room and stared into the black hole. Down at the bottom he could see two orange jail suits.

  “Graham Peck’s been here!” Bridges declared in disgust. “This is his work. He’s floating around here somewhere. I’ll give him one thing, Peck is one smart man.”

  Meachem stared in amazement.

  “Sir!” Another policeman broke into the room. “Something’s happening outside you need to know about.” He kept gasping for air.

  “What?” Bridges snapped. He didn’t like being interrupted at such moments.

  “Those six policemen you were talking to,” the man said, huffing and puffing, “they all fell on the ground. Something’s hit ’em! No one knows whether it’s the smoke, gas, what. We think they’re dying!”

  “Six men?” Meachem’s question held a strange air of knowing suspicion.

  “Yeah, six of ’em!”

  Bridges looked at Meachem in disgust. “We don’t need this problem on top of everything else that’s happened!”

  CHAPTER 61

  EVENING HAD BEGUN to fall when the mayor started winding up his investigation. The darkness of the sky returned and it was becoming difficult to see much.

  “As best we can understand,” Al Meachem said, “a crude bomb was set off on the fourth-floor fire escape. While it knocked the door off the hinges, it didn’t really do that much damage except for spreading smoke everywhere. The hole in the floor in the interview room is another matter.”

  “And those six policemen that died out front?” Bridges pushed.

  “Has to be the nanorobots,” Meachem concluded. “The smoke in the building smelled bad, but it wouldn’t kill anybody outside. We couldn’t find any other effects in the building.” Meachem scratched his head and raised his eyebrows. “I’m afraid that horde of invisible killers struck again.”

  “Have you found Dr. Gillette?”

  Meachem shook his head. “No. The man’s hiding somewhere, but no one will give us any clues.”

  “When you find him, get mean!” Bridges sneered. “Rough him up! I need him to give us some idea of how long those killer robots can float through the sky.”

  “Believe me, we’re lookin’.”

  Bridges thought for a moment. “Warn the jail personnel not to discuss what happened with anyone. And I mean anyone. I don’t want Rashid getting wind of the two women’s escape until I tell him.” The mayor ran his hands through his hair nervously. “That’ll send him into orbit. Maybe we can catch them with Graham Peck before I have to discuss the matter with him.”

  “Rashid’s got his own set of issues after that speech today,” Meachem added. “He probably won’t be thinking about these people.”

  Bridges raised one eyebrow. “That’s the problem. He’ll resurrect the issue of Peck out of nowhere one of these days. I hope to be ready for him when he does.”

  “We’ve got every highway going north out of town covered with roadblocks, and our men have fresh pictures of Graham Peck. They’ll nail him if he tries to get away.”

  The mayor shook his head. “Your men better catch him, or you’ll all be looking for work.”

  Adah jumped on a bus and slipped into a seat in the back. Unsure of where she was going, Adah needed to get out of the downtown area no matter had bad she felt. Somewhere along the way she could change buses and keep moving. It was the only hope she had.

  She thought about where Matt would go. He would avoid the Arlington Heights area for sure. The only logical place seemed to be the motel where they stayed last night. If she could get there . . .

  The bus pulled up to a stop and people got on. Before long, the rear end would fill up. Passengers started sitting around her. Adah noticed a few of them staring, and they seemed to be looking at her face.

  She glanced into the window to catch the reflection. The cut on her forehead had swollen and was turning into an ugly bruise. In addition, the side of her cheek was scratched. Adah’s hair hung down in disarray. In general, she looked like a thug had rolled her. She quickly pulled the identification tag from her neck and shoved it into her pocket. Best to keep all names out of sight.

  The bus rumbled on into the night while Adah silently prayed.

  CHAPTER 62

  MATTHEW PECK pulled up in front of one of
the city’s forehead marking stations and turned off the car. “I’m not sure what happened to Adah,” he said. “She knew to get out of the area around the jail as fast as possible. Fortunately, she wasn’t marked, so computers and satellites can’t track her. I just pray the cops didn’t catch Adah. Our problem now is that both of you still have the marks on your foreheads.”

  Nancy Marks reached over and squeezed Matt’s hand. “How can I ever thank you for getting me away from those terrible men?”

  “We wanted to help you escape and certainly hoped to stop any torture,” Matt said.

  “I—I can’t tell you what they did to me.” Tears welled up in Nancy’s eyes. “Fortunately, Bill and I didn’t have any children yet . . . but I—I miss him so much.” She started crying.

  Mary Peck put her arm around Nancy. “You’re with us now. Don’t worry. We’re going to take care of you.”

  Nancy again squeezed Matt’s hand. “Thank you so much.”

  “Dad had an idea that might help us,” Matt said. “He reasoned there has to be some difference in how applications of identification nanorobots operate or everyone would be sending the same signal. He thinks there’s a strong possibility that a second application might short out the first application. If the computer signals were nullified, that’s all we’d need.”

  “I’ll try anything,” Mary said.

  “Okay.” Matt pointed toward the entrance. “Both of you go into that office, and tell them you’ve been out of the country. Ask for the swab treatment. We can only pray that it works.”

  Nancy and Mary hurried inside. In five minutes they returned.

  “You got the mark?” Matt asked.

  Both women nodded their heads.

  “Dad had one more idea,” Matt continued. “In the Scripture, Christians often prayed for healing and were cured of their diseases. The mark on your heads is mechanical, but it’s still a disease.” Matt took out a small Bible. “He said I should read to you this passage from the end of Revelation when the city of evil is destroyed.”