by Kim Baldwin
Even in the best scenario, Riley would be vulnerable until Kat got through the doorway and closed it again.
Better to wait a while, let Scout stew over our disappearance. No one could go without sleep forever. Scout’s search for them would exhaust her, Kat hoped. Eventually she’d have to rest and let her guard down. In the meantime, Kat would get a little shut-eye and be refreshed and alert for their confrontation. Riley could use some rest too, she knew. She just wished she had Riley’s medicine and some provisions to make their wait more comfortable.
“How’s the knee?”
“Not great,” Riley admitted. “Probably better to get my weight off it.”
Kat glanced around at the cold concrete floor. She gently extricated herself from Riley’s embrace and moved to one of the safes. She opened it and reached inside for her Sig Sauer handgun—the 9mm P226 model popular with law enforcement and the military. She checked to make sure it was loaded before sticking it into the back of her jeans. She put a second magazine containing ten rounds into one of her front pockets.
Next she withdrew a belt pack from the safe. Kat kept it loaded with emergency gear. She pulled out a survival blanket made of a thin aluminum and polyester polymer developed for NASA. She unfolded it on the floor. Then she took her bulletproof vest from the safe and placed it atop the blanket to add a bit more insulation from the cold floor.
“Come on,” Kat said, helping Riley to the makeshift pallet. “See if you can get some rest.”
Riley lay down and Kat kneeled beside her. She wrapped the blanket around her friend, cocooning her in the shiny material.
“What about you?” Riley asked as Kat tucked her in. “You took a pretty good hit to the head.”
“I’ll join you in a little while,” Kat replied. First she intended to survey the contents of her safes. Select what she would use against Scout and see what else they might use while they were trapped in here.
But Riley reached up and grasped Kat’s arm. “Please?” She opened the thin blanket, scooting over to make room for Kat.
Kat relented and slipped into Riley’s open arms. The blanket was not big enough to cover them both. It was now only a thin insulation against the concrete. Kat enveloped Riley in an embrace, careful to avoid her injured knee.
They stayed wrapped in each other’s arms for a long moment before Riley broke the silence. “Katarzyna Demetrious? Is that your name?” She’d wanted to ask her about the things that Scout had made oblique reference to—things about Kat’s past. There hadn’t really been an opportunity until now.
Kat stiffened, but only for a moment. She stroked Riley’s back with one hand. “Yes,” she affirmed quietly. “I’ve not told anyone my real name in...” She paused, remembering. “In many years. I don’t know how Scout knows it.” There was a long silence. “My father was Konstantin Demetrious. He was the Cypriot ambassador to the UN when I was a child.”
The name sounded vaguely familiar to Riley, but she couldn’t recall why.
“He was well known as a peace negotiator,” Kat continued, a catch in her voice. “When I was six, he became a special ambassador-at-large for the UN itself. He traveled around the world to all the hot spots, trying to resolve conflicts, bring warring sides together.”
She paused. “He was up for the Nobel Peace Prize. There was talk of making him the next UN secretary-general.”
There was another long silence.
“What happened?” Riley asked.
“He was killed,” Kat said. “When Turkish troops took over northern Cyprus, he and my mother were murdered in their sleep.”
“I’m sorry,” Riley said, caressing Kat’s stomach. “I can’t imagine how painful that must have been for you. How old were you?”
“Nine. I was here in the States at summer camp when it happened.” Kat relaxed a little under Riley’s soft caresses. “I stayed here. The home where I grew up was taken over by the Turks.”
“You never went back?”
“I went back to Cyprus once—when I was older,” Kat replied. She wanted to tell Riley everything, but the next confessions were the hardest.
“My father was rich, so I didn’t lack for money,” she explained. “An uncle in Greece—my only surviving relative—arranged for me to attend boarding school in Connecticut under an assumed name, so that I wouldn’t be a target for the media and for those who might exploit me for my father’s wealth. My uncle couldn’t take me in. He was an old man. He died less than a year later.”
Kat’s voice grew husky, her emotions close to the surface. “I was...very angry for many years about what happened to my father and mother. Both of them, of course, but I was particularly close to my father. My mother was...formal, proper. I think she was disappointed in me because I was a tomboy, always getting into mischief. ‘Katarzyna!’ she’d scold. ‘Look at you! Company is coming and you’re a muddy mess!’ You know, I can’t remember her ever hugging me or telling me that she loved me.”
Kat unconsciously drew Riley even closer to her as she continued. “But my father...” Her voice trembled. Her eyes welled with tears. “He called me Kat. When he’d come home from a trip, he’d yell ‘Here, Kitty Kat!’ and I’d come running, both of us laughing. He’d scoop me up in his arms and swing me around and tell me how much he’d missed me. Then I’d sit on his lap and he’d talk about all the unusual things he’d seen. All the fascinating people he’d met, the strange food he’d eaten.” She exhaled a long, slow breath. “He told me once he’d named me Katarzyna because it meant ‘pure.’ He wanted me to do good. Follow his example. Live a life of service to others.”
Riley, understanding now the reasons for the pain that Kat hid so well, felt her own eyes fill with tears.
“But I chose another path a long time ago. When all I felt was rage over their deaths, and the need for revenge.” Kat’s shame threatened to overwhelm her, but she needed to finish.
“I was an athlete in boarding school. Track, basketball, fencing. Sports were a distraction against loneliness. I didn’t have many friends. In college, I took up martial arts and won a national title. It was then that I met Evan Garner—and became a killer for hire.”
Chapter Forty-One
Scout found Frank and Otter huddled together beneath Kat’s coats. Their heads popped out of the covering when they heard the steel door open. Both men looked at her expectantly, but neither spoke. They had discussed a variety of things they might say to the stranger if she returned, but each wanted the other to be the one to risk raising her ire. Seeing her now, knowing she evidently had overpowered Hunter, did nothing to ease their trepidation of her.
Scout had not bothered to put her coveralls back on. She didn’t intend to be out in the cold very long. But the temperature in the room had dropped to fifteen degrees and the wind blew in fiercely, so she closed the outside door. “What are your names?” she asked the men.
“Otter.”
“Frank.”
“Move apart,” she instructed as she fished in her pocket for Kat’s keys.
They obeyed her, separating as far as they were able. Both men fixed their eyes on the keys in her hand. A trace of a smile appeared on Otter’s face when she stepped behind him and unlocked the chain that connected him to Frank.
Scout saw the smile and jerked Otter up hard by his handcuffs. She was stronger than she appeared, and the movement sent pain shooting up his arms. He grunted and tried to turn to look at her. But she yanked him hard again when he did. With her free hand, she dug her knife out of her pocket, clicked it open, and held it to his throat. It took only a few seconds.
“You’re not a part of my plan,” she hissed. “So I’ll be happy to get rid of you right here and now if you don’t do exactly as I say.”
Otter nodded, afraid to speak. Perhaps this wasn’t the positive development he’d hoped it to be.
Scout shoved him toward the steel door without another look at Frank. Otter stumbled the first few steps. His legs were cramped and stiff from the
cold confinement. Once they were through the door, Scout slammed it shut.
Frank tried to cover himself with the coats and sleeping bag, wondering if he or Otter was now in the more enviable position.
*
“I want to know everything there is to know about your previous dealings with Hunter,” Scout said without preamble as she shoved Otter forward in the tunnel toward the living room.
So that’s why I’m getting the special treatment, Otter thought. This might not be such a good thing, he realized. Especially if she thinks I was once any friend of Hunter’s. Or if I’m only useful to her as long as I can tell her something she wants to know. His mind worked feverishly on how to respond.
“Evan Garner sent us on a job together once. Her, me, and a kid. This was years ago. I got to know her pretty good. How she thinks, how she plans.” Otter exaggerated his knowledge of Hunter in an effort to prolong his value to the stranger. But he also had to make sure she knew he was no friend. “The job went off without a hitch, but the damn bitch left without me. I ended up in prison for seven years because of her.”
“This kid,” Scout said, as they entered the living room, “What was his name?”
“Kenny. I think he was only like seventeen or eighteen, but really smart—” Otter’s words were cut off when he was shoved violently forward.
The woman behind him shrieked.
Otter lost his footing and fell hard on his shoulder. He saw Scout rush to the pantry. The door to it stood open.
“Damn it!” Scout cursed. Her eyes scanned the pantry floor, taking in the open handcuffs and the rope. “How the hell did they get away?”
“They?” Otter wondered aloud from his place on the floor. This couldn’t be good. Hunter had apparently escaped, and this woman was not at all happy about it.
Scout turned toward his voice. “Shut up. Shut up and let me think. They can’t have gotten far.” She pocketed her knife and pulled out her gun before checking the bedroom and bathroom. She slipped her coveralls back on, donned her balaclava and gloves, and was out the door.
As soon as she was gone, Otter stumbled to his feet. His eyes darted around the room, looking for some means to get out of the handcuffs. The kitchen.
He got several cabinet doors open with his teeth. Plates, glasses, mugs, pots and pans, spices. He tried to open a couple of drawers the same way, but most were too heavy to budge. The one he was able to open was a shallow junk drawer, containing a mishmash of utensils and assorted odds and ends. He stared at the contents, seeking something small enough to fit into the handcuff locks.
*
Scout entered the tunnel and headed straight up the emergency exit, believing it to be the only way the two women could have escaped the bunker while she was in the generator room. She struggled for a few minutes with the hatch, not realizing it was locked. Then she had to figure out the odd locking mechanism. Finally she had it open. She scanned the area around her with her flashlight, looking for tracks.
There were none. The pristine surface of white from the new snowfall was unmarred.
What the hell?
*
Otter froze when the door crashed open again and Scout came through it, cursing. She turned in his direction with an angry scowl. All around him, cabinet doors stood open like accusing sentinels.
“What do you think you’re doing? Didn’t you understand me when I said I will kill you if you try anything?” She pulled out her knife as she came around the kitchen counter toward him.
Otter retreated until his back was against the sink. He didn’t at all like the crazy look in her eyes. “Take it easy, I’m sorry. I was just trying to find something to get myself a drink,” he lied.
She stopped in front of him and cocked her head as if she was considering what to do with him. She twirled the knife in her hand.
Otter didn’t like her obvious familiarity with the weapon. He had to do something. “Look, if Hunter’s escaped, I can help you look for her,” he offered.
She seemed to consider this for several moments. Finally she nodded as she pocketed her knife and pulled out her 9mm. “Turn around.”
Otter obeyed.
She placed the gun against the back of his neck. “I presume I don’t need to remind you how I want you to behave?”
“No, I’m clear. No trouble.” The gun remained pressed against Otter’s neck as the cuffs were unlocked. He brought his hands slowly in front of him to rub his sore wrists, but even when the cold metal was removed from his neck, he did not move until she acknowledged he could.
“Okay, turn around,” Scout said.
Otter slowly pivoted to face her.
She was still pointing the gun at him, but she’d backed up several feet. She tossed him Kat’s key ring. “Unlock the other guy and both of you start searching every inch of this place. They’re either hiding somewhere or there’s another entrance than the two we know about. If you find them, come get me. I want to be the one to take care of Katarzyna...Hunter.”
Katarzyna? This woman knows Hunter’s real name? Otter was impressed. Though he didn’t want to make her angry, he wanted to know what he was up against if he was going to be searching unarmed. “Uh...the other one we’re looking for, that’s Scout, right?”
“No, moron. I’m Scout. You’re searching for Hunter and her little blond girlfriend. Just get going.” She waved him toward the door with the gun. “The code to the steel door is 8-9-7-7.”
Otter took off at a trot.
After he had gone, Scout went to the monitors and looked for tracks leading from the bunker. Nothing. She turned on the computer to see if there was an update from Kenny. If she’s hiding, this friend will be useful to flush her out.
Kenny had indeed responded to what he thought was Hunter’s missive. Understand urgency. Will be at your location 11 am with cash.
Scout looked at her watch. It was 2:00 a.m. Nine more hours. She’d have liked it to be sooner, but it would have to do.
She stripped off her coveralls and emptied the pockets of weapons. She stuck her own gun in the front of her jeans and pocketed her knife. She locked in the desk the rest of the guns and ammunition she’d taken off Kat.
Scout examined the room she was in. The concrete walls and floors seemed unmarred by lines. That decreased the areas she would need to search for a secret portal. Her eyes fell on the bookcases. That’s a possibility. The kitchen, the pantry, the shower, around the bed, the monitor wall—they were also areas that would need to be gone over carefully. And she’d need to get another look at the tunnel.
Scout decided to start her search in the pantry, where she had last seen the women. She began pulling shelves out, spilling what was left on them onto the floor.
*
As Otter ran through the tunnel, his eyes fell on Hunter’s toolbox. He considered taking a wrench or hammer from it. He didn’t like the idea of flushing out Hunter without a weapon. But then he remembered the monitors and worried Scout might see him do it. Better wait. At least he was out of the handcuffs and free to move around.
Otter punched in the code Scout had given him and went through the steel door. He walked over to Frank, jingling the keys in his hand.
“Here’s the deal,” Otter said, freeing Frank. “Hunter got away somehow, along with some girlfriend of hers that was in there. That blond chick who broke in and captured them—that’s Scout, but don’t ask me to explain it. I haven’t a clue. She’s pissed as hell they’re gone, so I talked her into setting us free to search for how they got out or where they’re hiding. We’re not supposed to try to take ’em. Scout wants to be the one to kill Hunter.”
Frank got to his feet and massaged his wrists and forearms. “I ain’t in no hurry to kill Hunter.”
“We better do what this broad says,” Otter said, heading toward the tunnel. “She’s got a hell of a temper and says she’ll kill us if we try anything. I believe she means it. Still,” he said, waiting for Frank to join him, “doesn’t mean we can’t look for
an opportunity.”
They were nearly to the living room when they heard a shout from within. They hurried toward it.
*
Scout found nothing useful in the pantry. The place was in ruins by the time she was finished. She stepped back into the living room, perspiring heavily from her efforts. She listened for a minute but could hear no noise from within the bunker save for the soft hum of the refrigerator. Her frustration was growing with every moment. “I’ll find you,” she shouted, hoping the two women were within earshot. “The longer it takes, the worse it will be for you!”
She heard running footsteps in response to her plea, but it was only Frank and Otter. They froze when they came through the door and saw her, gun in hand, her face red and her anger palpable.
“Get to work!” she ordered. “Find them!”
Otter sprang into action, hustling toward the bedroom because it was away from her.
Frank followed his lead and darted into the bathroom.
Scout eyed the wall of bookshelves and moved toward it, looking for something unusual or out of place. The shelves extended from floor to ceiling and were filled with hundreds of books. Nearing them, she saw that Katarzyna had carefully arranged them by topic and author, as meticulous as any library. She grunted in satisfaction as she began ripping them from the shelves.
Chapter Forty-Two
Evan Garner approached me after I’d won the national karate title,” Kat said, tightening her arms around Riley. The recollection of her most painful memories was eased by the comforting proximity of her friend.
“He invited me for coffee. Said he had a proposition for me.” She took a deep breath. “He told me he worked for the government and was always on the lookout for young people with an aptitude for what he called ‘extraordinary achievements.’ He looked the part: clean cut, blue suit, a flashy ID that said Justice Department. He’d found out a lot about me—what I’d studied, and even that I had no next of kin listed on any of my enrollment forms. He didn’t know who I really was, though. Only the headmistress at the boarding school I’d attended knew that, and she had vowed to seal the records.
