Ryan Quinn and the Rebel's Escape

by Ron McGee

  Ryan hurried down the fire escape, dropping the last few feet to the ground. He raced off through the murky alleys of Panai.

  CHAPTER

  19

  PANAI,

  ANDAKAR

  The Kali Thawar had obviously started out as a grand and luxurious hotel. Standing three stories high and occupying an entire block, it was a massive building. Even now, after years of neglect, Ryan could see how impressive it must have been in its day, with a sweeping entrance, huge bay windows, and elegant columns. But it sure wasn’t a hotel now.

  Instead of bellboys greeting guests, the Kali Thawar had soldiers with machine guns slung over their shoulders keeping everyone out. The gates were closed, and barbed wire adorned the top of the metal fence that surrounded the property.

  Staying in the shadows, Ryan circled the building, trying to figure out its purpose. He spotted a few soldiers roaming the grounds and two more at a smaller back gate, which looked like it was probably used for deliveries. All these soldiers wore the same dark-blue uniforms, different from the drab gray of the men at the airport and in the city. None appeared particularly alert. This seemed to be their regular routine.

  The guards and heavy security convinced Ryan his father must be a prisoner here. That would explain why they hadn’t heard from him. Dad and Myat Kaw had discussed the Kali Thawar right before he disappeared. Ryan had to get inside and find his dad. But how was he going to get past the security patrols? The metal fencing and barbed wire surrounded the compound on all sides.

  Every fifty feet or so, palm trees had been planted that rose higher than the hotel itself. They were thin and regal, creating a stately appearance. Looking at them, Ryan was struck by an inspiration: Those trees could be his way onto the grounds.

  When he was nine, Ryan’s family had lived for several months in Belize, a country in the Caribbean with gorgeous beaches, incredible snorkeling, and thousands of palm trees. Ryan got to know the local kids and they laughed at him when they learned he couldn’t climb a palm tree; they’d all been doing it their whole lives. It took a lot of painful falls and scraped skin on the soles of his feet, but Ryan was soon able to climb the tallest palms with the best of them. He even learned to carry a machete on his back so he could hack off coconuts.

  The only way he knew to climb a palm tree was barefoot, so Ryan unlaced his high-tops. Stuffing his socks in his pocket, he tied the laces of the shoes together and wrapped them loosely around his neck. He waited in the shadows until the roaming sentries passed, knowing he had to time this perfectly, then darted across the street.

  The secret to climbing a palm is knowing how to apply pressure in the right directions. With his back to the metal fence, Ryan wrapped his arms around the thin trunk. At the same time, he placed his bare feet, one on top of the other, in front of him on the tree. By pushing with his feet while pulling with his hands, Ryan maintained a constant balance of pressure that kept his body in place. After every step, he raised his arms a little higher. Once you got the motion down, it was easy—the kids of Belize could scale the highest palm trees in seconds.

  And that’s exactly what Ryan did, the movements coming back to him instinctually even though he hadn’t climbed in a few years. He could feel the tough bark scraping the soft skin on the bottom of his feet, but he didn’t stop. When he was up far enough, Ryan looked behind him. He was a couple of feet higher than the barbed wire, which meant this was at least a ten-foot jump to the ground. If he missed, he’d be cut to pieces, and would probably get arrested and thrown in jail.

  Before he could talk himself out of it, Ryan counted down—three, two, one!—and pushed out with his legs as hard as he could. Ryan soared over the fence and the razor-sharp wire, hanging in the air for what seemed like forever. He landed on the ground with a hard crunch. Ryan rolled with the impact, throwing himself into a somersault that knocked the breath out of him.

  Gasping for air, Ryan turned over, shocked and surprised to discover he hadn’t twisted an ankle or broken any bones. He knew he couldn’t stay out in the open like this. He forced himself to get up and move. Keeping low, he ran to the side of the hotel, gravel stinging the soles of his feet like needle pricks, making it hard to move fast. He hid behind the shrubbery that lined the walls, listening hard for any indication that he had been spotted. After a moment to catch his breath, Ryan put his socks and shoes back on and scanned the area. The coast was clear.

  Creeping around to the back, Ryan spotted an entrance that had apparently been used by the hotel’s staff. There was no one around, so he cautiously moved to the door and peered through the glass panes. The door opened onto a back hallway that was empty. He tried the handle. It was unlocked.

  With a deep breath and a quick, quiet prayer, Ryan slipped inside.

  CHAPTER

  20

  PANAI,

  ANDAKAR

  Whack! A cleaver chopped the head off a long fish as several soldiers chattered among themselves, slicing and dicing large bowls of seafood and vegetables. Their curved knives moved with frightening speed as Ryan watched, hidden behind a counter in this industrial-sized kitchen. These guys must be on food detail. And they were cooking a lot, which made Ryan wonder how many soldiers were actually stationed here.

  He ducked back down, suddenly hit with the realization of how crazy his plan was. He was locked inside this place with who-knew-how-many guys carrying machine guns and knives that looked like they could cut him right in two!

  Get a grip, he told himself. Finding his nerve once more, Ryan scurried quickly across the kitchen, hidden from the soldiers’ view by the counters. He darted into a hallway, hoping he wouldn’t run into anyone.

  Fortunately, the hallway was deserted, but Ryan could hear voices just beyond it. He moved closer to the swinging door at the far end, which had a round window in the middle. Ryan guessed the door led to what was once a restaurant and that this was the hallway the waiters used back when it was a working hotel.

  Ryan peered out the round window into a huge room that still had the trappings of British Colonial design: dark wood floors, wicker chairs, and palm-leaf fans hanging from the ceiling. But it wasn’t a restaurant anymore. One whole wall was lined with computer stations, each manned by a technician wearing a headset. The other wall was filled with sophisticated flat-screen TVs and a sea of flickering, shifting images. Ryan saw maps, newscasts, and a whole bank of monitors showing surveillance-camera footage of the hotel’s grounds.

  It didn’t take a genius to realize the hotel was some kind of command center.

  Before Ryan could see more, a movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. One of the soldiers was heading right toward him! Ryan bolted back down the hallway. He passed the kitchen door and spotted a staircase just as the door behind him opened. Ryan dodged behind the staircase. He pressed his back against the wall and held his breath, not making a sound.

  Hearing the soldier give orders to the kitchen crew, Ryan exhaled in relief: He hadn’t been spotted. But the hallway was getting busy now. He had to get out of there. He darted up the stairway to the second floor.

  It was much quieter upstairs. Ryan stayed close to the walls as he snuck down the hall, passing doors that opened into what had once been guest rooms. After checking the doorsills to make sure no lights were on, he tried the handles. A few opened to offices. He searched them briefly but found nothing that helped him figure out what this place was. At the end of the hallway, one of the doors opened into a much bigger room. Ryan stepped silently inside.

  It was completely dark. Ryan knew he couldn’t turn on a light. He used the glow from his cell phone to look around. The room must have been a suite way back when, but it was being used as a storage area now. The walls were lined with shelves stuffed with thousands of file folders.

  Ryan pulled one down, careful to remember where he’d found it. On the front of the folder was a red-and-gold shield with a white triangle floating in the middle. It was some sort of logo. Ryan couldn’t
read the language of the writing underneath it, so he snapped a photo. Maybe later Danny could figure out what it was. He opened it and found a dossier written in a language he didn’t understand. A picture of a middle-aged man was clipped inside, along with what appeared to be all his essential information. Ryan could recognize dates and times strewn throughout, but he couldn’t read the entries themselves.

  Ryan guessed that these were files on Andakar’s citizens. With all the communications technology and surveillance equipment he saw downstairs and the files up here, Ryan was pretty certain the hotel was currently the base for some kind of intelligence agency. All the emails Danny found to Ryan’s father had come from Panai, and some mentioned Kali Thawar. That meant Myat Kaw could have had access to lots of top secret information. No wonder they wanted to find him.

  After putting the folder back, Ryan left the file room and continued down the hall. From the front of the building, someone was yelling, sounding more scared than angry. Creeping closer, Ryan arrived at the end of the hallway. It opened onto a landing that overlooked the old hotel’s lobby.

  Crouching low, Ryan sidled up to the balcony rail and peered over. The lobby was connected to this upper floor by a wide, gently curving staircase. Down below, two of the blue-uniformed soldiers held a frightened man between them, his desperate cries turning to pleading sobs. An officer stood imperiously before him, questioning the man in a cold, emotionless tone.

  Ryan wanted to get a better look, but he couldn’t risk being seen. The officer in charge spat out a command and the soldiers dragged the prisoner away, his pleas echoing uselessly. They took him to a stairway on the opposite side of the lobby that led to whatever was downstairs.

  Backing carefully away from the rail, Ryan hurried once more toward the staff stairwell. If the soldiers were taking their prisoner to the basement, then maybe Ryan’s dad was down there, too.

  CHAPTER

  21

  PANAI,

  ANDAKAR

  The basement was like something out of a horror movie. Half the lights were out or flickering, and the bare concrete walls and underground dampness gave it a cold and threatening atmosphere. There was a stench down here, too, which Ryan thought was probably a combination of filth, body odor, and fear.

  A confusing network of corridors ran underneath the building. Ryan didn’t think the soldiers used this part of the old hotel much, as he’d passed a couple of forgotten laundry carts and found a closet still packed with rotted-out supplies. He got completely turned around in the hallways, which all looked alike, until he didn’t know where he was.

  Finally, he spotted a pair of steel doors at the end of yet another hallway. Cautiously, he opened one of the doors and immediately heard the buzz of machinery from the other side. This seemed to be an entrance to a whole other section of the basement housing the generators and equipment that kept the building functioning. Ryan stepped inside, careful not to let the heavy door slam.

  A long chamber stretched out before him, lit only by a couple of bare bulbs. Several giant, rusted-out furnaces lined one side of the room. At the far end, a hallway led off into darkness. Through the hum of the machinery, Ryan now noticed other sounds. People’s voices, moaning and crying out in desperation.

  He started that way, then froze, hearing something else—footsteps. Coming closer quickly. Ryan moved to the furnaces, slipping silently into the shadows between them as a soldier entered from the hallway at the other end of the room. The man passed within a few feet of Ryan but didn’t stop. He exited through the steel door and was gone. The moment the door clicked shut, Ryan hurried toward the voices. If his father was here, he could only imagine what condition he might find him in.

  Around the corner, he could hear what sounded like an interrogation. The hallway was empty of guards, so Ryan risked a peek through an open doorway. His heart stopped at what he saw inside.

  Rusted pipes spanned the ceiling of a long room that once housed the water tanks for the hotel but was now a makeshift torture chamber. Ryan saw a man and a woman chained to the wall with iron manacles. In the middle of the room, Ryan recognized the guy who had been dragged away upstairs, his shirt now off. He was tied to a chair, whimpering. Behind him, the officer raised a riding crop. Ryan flinched as the officer swung, viciously striking the man’s exposed back. The man screamed and Ryan turned away, horrified.

  Down the hall, Ryan discovered a series of rooms that had been converted into jail cells. He counted six in all, three on each side. There were still no guards in sight. Ryan took the opportunity to look inside each cell.

  But his dad wasn’t here. The prisoners in the cells were all locals, and they looked miserable. Ryan wished he could help them escape, but that would alert the guards in the interrogation room.

  “Hey.” Ryan spun around at the whispered voice behind him. A young woman stared out from behind the bars of a cell, her face streaked with dirt and tears. “You have to get out of here.”

  Ryan’s shock turned to surprise at her perfect English. “I’m looking for someone. A man, an American—”

  “There’s no American here. Go.”

  “Are you sure? His name is John Quinn—he’s helping Myat Kaw.”

  The young woman’s expression changed at the mention of Myat Kaw’s name. “You know Myat Kaw?” she asked.

  Ryan moved to her, noticing that other faces were now appearing at the cell doors. “John Quinn is my father. He was trying to get Myat Kaw to safety. I have to find him.”

  One of the other prisoners, an older man, whispered something in their native language. The young woman listened, then translated for Ryan. “He says he knows your father. That he’s very brave.”

  Ryan turned to the man, trying to keep his voice down despite the excitement he was feeling. “Do you know where he is?” The man shook his head, then spoke once more to the young woman. He went on for some time and Ryan couldn’t help feeling impatient, hearing the cries from the interrogation just around the corner. He didn’t have much time.

  “There is a student at the Panai Teaching College,” she said. “His name is Ashin Myek. He says to ask this student. He may know where your father went.”

  “How does he know?”

  “Many of us helped Myat Kaw.” They both turned at the sound of a door swinging open around the corner. Her eyes met his in fear, “You must go—hurry!”

  Ryan’s hand went to the lock on her cell. “I’ll let you out—all of you.”

  “No,” she whispered. “This is Andakar—there is nowhere to go, and it is worse for those who run. Go! Save yourself!”

  Ryan hesitated, but he could hear the soldiers dragging their mumbling prisoner toward the cells. He took off, racing for the steel door, frustrated at not being able to do more for the people who had helped him.

  Making it through the steel door, Ryan raced for the stairs, more intent on speed than on stealth at this point. But the corridors were confusing, and Ryan’s rush ended with him getting hopelessly lost. He tried to backtrack, but couldn’t tell one hallway from the other. Frustrated and annoyed with himself, he turned a corner and came face-to-face with one of the soldiers!

  Ryan and the soldier were equally startled, but Ryan was the first to recover. As the soldier went for his pistol, Ryan brought a knee up into the guy’s stomach! The soldier doubled over, gasping for breath.

  Unlike the fight at school, Ryan didn’t have to be careful and pull his punches. He was a couple of inches shorter than the soldier, but he delivered a Palm Heel Strike that sent the man to his knees. The soldier raised his gun, but Ryan grabbed it and dealt one final Hammer Fist Punch that sent him to the ground, unconscious.

  Ryan could hardly believe what he’d done. His body had reacted instinctively, all those years of practice paying off in a big way. But after seeing the way these soldiers tortured people, he didn’t feel bad at all. He ran up the stairs, the gun still in his hand.

  At the top, Ryan paused to make sure no one was around, and
then went out the back door. He darted across the expanse of lawn, keeping to the shadows as he raced for the back gate. There weren’t any palm trees on this side to climb, so he had to find another way out.

  Ryan crept along the back wall, getting closer to the gate. Two soldiers were stationed at the entrance, one along the road and the other inside the guard shack. Ryan still had the gun, but he didn’t even know how to use it. Out of options, he raised the weapon, hoping he could fake enough confidence to force the soldier to open the gate. He took a step forward, but the night suddenly erupted with shouts from the main building.

  An alarm was being raised! The soldier he’d hit must have come around. The man in the guard shack came out and joined his comrade on the road. They both looked quizzically toward the hotel. This was the only opportunity Ryan was going to get. Slipping inside the guard shack, he searched for the button to open the gate. Spotting one with an icon of an open door on its face, he pressed it and hurried back out.

  Hearing the metal gates creak open, the two soldiers whirled around. Before they could raise their machine guns, Ryan fired two shots into the air, high over their heads, but loud enough to make them both duck for cover. Without a backward glance, he squeezed through the gate.

  Ryan sprinted down the street as a siren began to wail from the compound. He was out, but they would soon be hot on his trail.

  CHAPTER

  22

  PANAI,

  ANDAKAR

  Stopping to catch his breath, Ryan looked back over his shoulder. He’d been running for blocks, making sharp turns, going down alleys, anything he could think of to shake the men chasing him. But there were too many. Every time he thought he was in the clear, they’d appear once more, cutting off his escape.

  The streets he’d taken had been dark, with virtually no electric lights on anywhere. But a block away, he spotted a busier area with bright lights, noise, and people. Ryan had hoped he could lose the soldiers by hiding in the shadows, but that wasn’t working. Needing a new plan, he headed toward the crowd.