by Ethan Cross
Gordon turned serious. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’ll make a note for my secretary to do a better job in the future explaining when I will be attending a meeting via videoconference.”
“What do you know about Foxbury?”
“I’m familiar with the concept, and Mr. Powell’s vision of the prison of the future. He approached one of my people about a partnership and investing at one time. I wasn’t terribly interested then, and nothing’s changed since.”
“Are you familiar with the shooting incident that occurred there?”
“Yes, my secretary prepares me a news brief every morning. A real tragedy.”
“We think that it’s a professional job. That maybe someone is trying to sabotage Mr. Powell’s company.”
“Are you suggesting that PSI had something to do with this shooting incident? That’s absurd. To be perfectly blunt, if I wanted Mr. Powell’s company to go under because I thought his ideas were a threat, I would simply buy him out and liquidate everything. Or if we thought Foxbury was actually a good idea, which we don’t, we could have purchased the concept from him. And, no offense to Mr. Powell or his company, but we would probably have done a hundred times better job in our execution.”
“But let’s just say, what if you did see Powell as a possible threat, but your ego was too big to actually buy anything out and admit that you should have listened to him in the first place. And then let’s say someone approaches one of your executives and tells them that their organization is going to be taking down Foxbury, and they can do it in a way that makes sure Powell’s company goes out of business. Or they can do it in such a way that makes him look like a victim. And all you have to do is pay a modest fee to swing things in one direction or the other? I would say that getting involved at that point may seem tempting to someone like you.”
“An interesting fiction.”
“What if I also told you that we had one of your execs willing to testify that you did pay to ensure Powell Prison Technologies went out of business?”
Gordon’s shiny exterior faltered for a brief second, and the predator beneath shined through. The CEO said, “I would want to know that man or woman’s name and see a detailed account of their accusations. So that we could disprove any such allegations.”
The Director stood up and walked toward the screen. He said, “I’m going to give you one chance, Mr. Gordon. I just want to stop this madness. I know that even if we come after your company on this, you’ll probably get off on it or pin it on some underling. I’m not naive. I know how the system works. But I also know that lawyers are expensive and scandals like this hurt stock prices. So, if you know anything about this incident or anything else happening at Foxbury and you tell me right now, we’ll make it look like you were never involved. I just want to stop anyone else from getting hurt.”
Gordon leaned back in his chair and eyed the Director for a few long seconds, but then he said, “I’m sorry. I would gladly help if I could, and my heart goes out to the victims of such tragedies. But I don’t have any information that could help you. That’s the truth. And anyone who says differently is lying to you.”
A few minutes later, as they were leaving Luhrs Tower and walking back to the parking garage, Valdas said, “You didn’t tell me that you had one of PSI’s executives willing to testify.”
Between wheezes, the Director said, “That’s because I made that up on the spot. I was fishing for something, but sometimes the fish just don’t want to bite.”
*
A second after Maggie regained consciousness, she rolled to her feet. Or, at least, she tried to roll to her feet. The dog chain wrapped around her wrists jerked her back down in the same way it would have done with a dog sprinting after a mail carrier. Her face struck the filthy linoleum of the trailer’s kitchen when she fell. She quickly pulled herself up again, more cautiously this time. The air was heavy with what smelled like a mixture of cat urine and paint thinner. She hardly noticed the throbbing pain in her head over her mind screaming about the germs on her cheek from it striking the floor. Maggie could feel each individual virus strand, the millions of teaming creatures squirming and burrowing on her skin, trying to find an entry point, trying to dig their way into her flesh.
She rubbed her cheek violently against her shoulder in revulsion.
Jerry Dunn said, “Are you okay?”
She looked up to see Dunn chained in a similar manner across the room from her. Their captors had fastened her chains to some kind of center post in the trailer’s kitchen. She guessed the countertop section above her served as the dining room table. Dunn was secured to some exposed pipes on the opposite side of the trailer’s living room. Their wrists were behind them, and the chains bit into her skin like tiny, hungry serpents. No position provided comfort.
She tested her restraints. The chains on her wrists couldn’t be slipped and attempting to do so caused her great pain. She fought down the part of her mind which screamed at her that she had no idea where this chain had been and that right now this rusty old dog chain was playing the role of an express train carrying a billion tiny invaders into her body.
Dunn said, “Agent Carlisle? What are you doing?”
Giving up on the chains, Maggie backed up to the built-in countertop and pressed her weight against it, checking for any give. The trailer was in disrepair and old, and so she wasn’t surprised when she felt the whole cabinet system move slightly. She could probably break the center post and the counter system apart with relative ease. But if she did, it would create a hell of a lot of noise, and she had no idea who was still within earshot.
“Agent Carlisle, please be careful.”
“I’m just trying to see if I can slip these chains. You should be doing the same on your end.”
Jerry started stuttering something, the words sticking in his throat like peanut butter. Maggie felt a rush of sympathy for the man. Jerry hadn’t been trained for anything like this. He could have been a damn good correctional officer, but that didn’t prepare him for their current predicament. And if he wasn’t their killer, then he was another victim who deserved her protection. She stopped pushing against the trailer’s cabinetry and said, “Calm down, Jerry, everything’s going to be fine. What are you trying to tell me?”
Jerry centered himself and said, “You’re about to spill a bunch of chemicals, and if this place is what I think it is, that wouldn’t be a good idea.”
Maggie released her hold on the cabinet system and peeked her head up over the counter’s edge. The counter and two tables beyond it were covered with glass jars and chemicals and what looked like the home chemistry set of a very disturbed child. She turned back to Jerry and found that more of the same filled the trailer’s living room. Clarence O’Neal and his friends were entrepreneurs. They not only had the marijuana plants in the shed, but they also had a meth lab in the trailer. Why not? Might as well double down on your criminal endeavors. Silly to put all of your drug-dealing eggs into one basket.
Jerry said, “From what I’ve always heard, these chemicals and labs like this are highly unstable. You see them blowing up on the news all the time.”
“I’m aware, Officer Dunn. Thank you.”
He said, “How’s your head?”
“I’m fine.”
“That’s good. I’m really sorry that I let myself get captured like that. I wasn’t watching for someone sneaking up behind us, and the two of them had me dead to rights. There was nothing I could do. Nothing I could have done even if I had been armed.”
“It’s okay, Jerry.”
“Maybe if I wasn’t like this. Then I would have been able to fight back or I could have made some move on them while they were forcing you to come out.”
“Jerry, it wasn’t your fault. And you’re right. None of us was expecting this. There’s nothing you could have done. Your limp wasn’t a factor.”
“It’s more than a limp.”
“I know. A car accident?” Maggie had alr
eady read in Jerry’s file that his parents had been killed in a car accident, which also caused damage to the part of Jerry’s brain in charge of motor function. His file said that none of Jerry’s impairments caused him to test any slower than a normal cadet did. In fact, his scores were above average. If she could keep him calm and following her orders, she knew that Jerry could be a real help in getting out of this situation.
“It happened when I was a kid,” Jerry said.
“It doesn’t seem to slow you down. And that’s good because I’m going to need you to step up.”
“Of course.”
“Where are the two guys?”
“They chained us up and then left us here.”
“Did you hear any vehicles pull up or leave?”
“No.”
“Then they’re still here somewhere, which isn’t good. I was hoping that they would have run. Cut their losses and bugged out. But if they’re still here, it means that they’re covering things up. They plan to clean up the scene out back. They’re betting my office doesn’t know exactly where we are.”
Jerry said, “Does your team know exactly where we are?”
“How long was I out?”
“Maybe fifteen minutes.”
“That’s not long enough that they could be sure we don’t still have backup on the way. Did you see the guy who shot Ingram?”
“I saw them checking his body. He was dead.”
“I mean, did you see the way he looked. He was so skinny and pale. I bet he was the one left here to do the cooking and was dipping into their stash. That’s probably why he resorted to violence so quickly. He was paranoid and out of his mind on meth.”
Jerry said, “Okay, but what does that mean for these other guys? They didn’t seem out of their minds, at least, not on meth.”
“It means that these two are probably pissed at their friend for screwing everything up for them. They wouldn’t have pulled the trigger like their friend did. They haven’t killed us yet, and that alone proves that they’re a bit more levelheaded. But they will still come back to the same conclusion as their buddy. They have no other options. If they can possibly cover this up, they will. They’re going to kill us. If somehow a bunch of officers show up here to rescue us within the next twenty minutes, then we’ll become hostages. If we don’t have backup here in the next hour at the most, those men out there will murder us and pretend like we were never here.”
“But someone will track it back to them.”
“Probably. But they’ll take that chance. They’ll cover it up as best they can. And that means that we don’t just get killed. We vanish without a trace.”
“I don’t want to vanish without a trace.”
“Neither do I, Jerry. Which is why we’re going with door number three. You’re going to do everything I tell you, and we’re going to place those men under arrest.”
“I don’t think they’re going to come quietly.”
“Then we’ll kill them, Jerry. But you don’t need to worry about that. You just need to do exactly as I say, and I’ll handle the rest. Can you do that? Can I count on you?”
“Yes. I’ll do whatever you need.”
“Good. First, I need you to …”
Maggie stopped speaking as she heard the footsteps coming toward the trailer’s front door. She knew then that there wouldn’t be any time for plans. The entrepreneurs behind this little drug-production factory had come to an executive decision. They had decided to tie up the loose ends sooner rather than later.
*
Marcus raised and aimed the shotgun as light flooded the tunnel they had been walking through. He squinted around the rock room as his eyes fought to adjust. The small tunnel had given way to a slightly taller room serving as the nexus of three different tunnels. He pictured this part of the map in his head. It had shown some of the other shafts as being flooded. It had also displayed one area where an abandoned entrance had been closed off, but a mine shaft holding the original elevator was still in place. He estimated that was about where they were now. Right beside the old mine shaft. He didn’t see any motion detectors, but he guessed that was how the lights had activated. That or the presence of the tablet. And either solution spoke volumes about Judas and his level of skill and planning.
He took a step farther into the lighted space, and the tablet computer dangling from his left hand sprang to life. Another video message. Judas said, “The tunnel ahead of you splits off into three directions. The agent in charge will enter the far right tunnel. The company representative will enter the middle tunnel. Inside, you will both find clear walls built into the tunnels. Each of you will enter and shut the door behind you. Have a seat in the chair, and you will receive further instructions. You’re very close now. Your goal is just around the next bend.”
Reese looked genuinely worried. Marcus made a note that Judas had referred to them by their positions in the game and not by their names.
“Should we do as he says?” Reese asked.
“We don’t have much choice. But don’t worry. We’re going to be fine. If he just wanted to kill us, there are a lot of easier ways.”
With a nod, Reese headed toward the middle tunnel. Marcus gripped the breaching shotgun firmly as he approached his own tunnel. The dimensions of the square opening were maybe six by six. And, ten feet inside the shaft, Marcus found the entrance to his “glass” box. A portion of the polycarbonate had been fashioned into a small door. He checked the hinges. They were identical to those used earlier inside the intermodal shipping container. The box had two sides of bullet-resistant, high-pressure polycarbonate that looked to be four inches thick. He had no idea what that stuff cost, but it couldn’t have been cheap. The other sides of the box had been fashioned from the tunnel itself. Marcus could see the chair in the center of his tiny room. Another small metal table sat beside the chair. A two-way handheld radio sat on the small table. Marcus would have rather seen a syringe or a gun. The presence of the radio meant that he and Reese were supposed to speak and work together, or were going to be pitted against one another. And Marcus still hadn’t decided whether Reese was another victim in this or the mastermind behind it.
He took a moment to examine the enclosure, searching for flaws or weaknesses, before sitting in the metal chair. It was bolted to the stone floor, but he didn’t see any other wires or potential traps.
As he sat, the tablet came to life again. Marcus didn’t even twitch at this. He had been expecting it.
What he wasn’t expecting was the creaking open of a chute in the ceiling behind him. His right hand went to his Sig as his gaze traveled over his shoulder.
On the tablet’s screen, Judas said, “I’m now speaking only to either the lead investigator or the company representative, since only one of you could have carried the tablet computer into the tunnel with him. The other can’t hear this message. However, if you wish, you could pick up the two-way radio beside you and let him or her listen in. Just push the big black button on its side, and you can communicate with your partner. I’ll give you a moment to call out to him and tell him to listen, if that’s what you’ve chosen.”
Marcus didn’t move. He didn’t pick up the radio and call out to Reese. He just waited for a few seconds to go by.
Judas said, “Sitting beneath each of your two-way radios, you’ll find a coin. A Tyrian shekel to be exact. The same coin that many historians believe was paid to Judas Iscariot for his thirty pieces of silver from biblical lore.”
The radio squeaked to life beside him. “Agent Williams? Can you hear me?” Reese said.
From the tablet, Judas continued, “This coin is your lifeline. Through it, you can find redemption, be the hero and the savior. The game is simple.”
Holding the tablet computer, which kept playing the video message, in his left hand, Marcus scooped up the radio and said, “Maintain your position for a moment, Mr. Reese.”
Judas said, “You each have a coin and a small tray in front of you mounted int
o the rock wall. That’s where you will cast your vote. To live or to die. A very simple choice that we each make every day in every small decision; to live a life of meaning and legacy or to slowly die and fade away. I’ve just boiled that lengthy death down into one choice with a binary outcome. You may have noticed that there were three tunnels.”
“Agent Williams, what’s going on over there? A trapdoor opened in my ceiling,” the scared voice of Bradley Reese announced over the radio.
Judas said, “You may have wondered what was down that far left tunnel. That’s where you will find Renata Navarro and her boy. I have placed a similar coin in their tray. But you see all that sand needs to go somewhere, so I need the two of you to decide who will live and who will die. The person whose coin is in the tray will be spared. The others will die.”
“Agent Williams!” Reese said.
Marcus clicked the radio’s button and said, “Don’t say another word.” He hoped that response was vague and menacing enough to shut Reese up for at least a few more seconds.
Judas continued, “So I’ll let the two of you choose who should be sacrificed. But, you may be wondering what would happen if you both placed your coins. The game is set up so that two matching decisions means the two of you will be sacrificed. So if you both place your coins, you both die. If you both don’t place your coins, you both die. But then you may wonder what happens if all three of you place your coins. Then you all three live or you all three die, depending on whether or not all three tunnels have their coins in place or not. But now the question is did I place the coin in Renata and Ian’s tunnel or was I lying? You have sixty seconds to discuss your options and place your coins.”
*
Maggie cursed under her breath as she saw that both of their attackers were climbing into the trailer. She had hoped that one of them would disagree with killing them or just not want to participate in murder. That would have made what she was about to do much easier. But she also supposed that the killer whose trick she was about to employ wouldn’t have worried about minor deviations. Ackerman would have just adapted and overcome, and that’s what she was going to do as well.
