Halon-Seven (30 page)

She looked around quickly before squatting down beside Cyrus. “Are you alright?” she whispered.

“Do me a favor?” he nodded his head upward at her. “Slip one of those hair pins into the back of my cuffs.”

She looked confused. “I don’t understand.” Her voice was so quiet he could barely hear her.

“Pull one of your hair pins. When I roll over you’ll see what they used to bind my hands. Just stick the pin up along the strap and into the binding block. Trust me.” He gave her a wink and a grin to buoy her confidence. Slowly, he rolled onto his side so she could see his hands.

A moment later he felt her hand brush against his. The tension on one of the restraints instantly sagged. He pulled his hand free and rolled onto his back. To Tracy’s credit, she
 
had instantly resumed a standing position and returned her attention to the front of the room as if nothing had happened.

Two seconds later and Cyrus had freed his remaining hand. He knew he was out numbered, out gunned, and thanks to the stabbing pain behind his eyes, he would likely have trouble getting to his feet quickly. But if he acted fast, he would have the element of surprise, and he could capitalize on the fact that two of the three thugs were focused entirely on the wounded man’s leg. Glancing slowly around the room, he looked for anything he could use as a weapon. The nearest he could find was the clothes iron sitting on the edge of the bathroom counter, only feet from where he lay.

Close enough.

Quietly, and making slow movements, he pulled himself to his feet. It was critical not to draw the attention of anyone in the room. Certainly not their attackers, but he didn’t want his fellow hostages seeing him either. Their shift in attention would draw the scrutiny of the thugs, and the odds would shift against him.

His vision swam for a few moments after he reached his feet. But there was no time to waste. Even through the stabbing pain and vertigo, he reached out for the iron. He took it in his right hand and picked up the slack of the hanging power cord in his left. The moment his vision cleared, he was in motion. It was nothing complicated or dramatic. He simply shouldered through the group of hostages as they watched the drama at the front of the room. Two steps later he was within reach of the man in charge—the man with the gun. Cyrus had already wound up for the swing so he let a powerful right cross fly. The swing, reinforced with the mass of the fifteen-year-old iron clenched in his fist, connected with the man just as his head turned. The force of the blow lifted him off his feet and sent him flying. He hit the curtains drawn against the windows behind him. The hundred and eighty pound Hispanic man smashed through the glass and went crashing to the concrete sidewalk outside.

The entire assault took place in less than two seconds and left the two men on the floor no time to react. By the time either man looked up to see what had caused the crashing sound, they were both looking down the barrel of a chrome finished Colt .45 that Cyrus had retrieved from the floor.

“Holy shit!” It was Chad. Evidently, he was the first to break free from his shock. “Way to go!”

Better than brass knuckles,
Cyrus thought as he looked back at Chad. While the rest of the group either looked like they were going to be sick or might be in shock, Chad seemed to be dealing with the events better than the rest.

“Here, take this,” Cyrus said, as he passed the Colt to Chad. “Keep it pointed at them. Never get closer than two arms lengths. And if either of them so much as moves, just pull the trigger.”

“Right on!” Chad accepted the gun. His eyes were bright and filled with adrenaline. He looked like a kid on Christmas morning.

Right on?
It was true that different people dealt with extreme circumstances in different ways. But Chad was an odd one. Still, Cyrus took a look at the guy and he seemed solid and relatively unfazed by all that just happened.

Good enough.

Passing by the two men still sitting on the floor, Cyrus exited the room and knelt over the unconscious body of the first man who know lay on the sidewalk fronting the motel. A quick search of his pockets revealed everything Cyrus needed. He found the man’s wallet, several sets of industrial zip-ties, and the cell phone that the man had used to call his boss.

—————

Twenty minutes later
Cyrus was ready to vacate the No Tell Motel. As he suspected, the motel clerk was found stabbed to death behind the counter of the front office. The thugs eliminated the man preemptively, leaving no one to call for help when they moved in on their quarry.

Cyrus kept the death of the clerk to himself. The team was holding up well given the circumstances. That dose of reality might put some of them over the edge. Other than some mental trauma, most were in surprisingly good spirits. They were just happy to be alive and glad to be leaving the fleabag accommodations. One positive thing had come from the drama. No one was questioning the necessity of going into hiding anymore.

Cyrus loaded the team into the Suburban and headed out. A few blocks down the road, he stopped at a pay phone and called 911. He reported hearing gunshots near the motel. The police would arrive soon and find the three would-be kidnappers trussed up in the office of the hotel, along with the knife used to kill the clerk. He knew that wouldn’t be the end of the police investigation. The damage to room twelve would leave many unanswered questions. The rooms were registered under a false name, though, and everything had been thoroughly wiped down before they had left. The authorities would be hard pressed to make any connection to him or his people. It was the best he could do given the circumstances.

Once back at the Bakersfield airport, Cyrus loaded everyone onto the helicopter and made the quick flight back to Santa Barbara. From there, they piled into the over-crowded Cherokee. Ten minutes after leaving the airfield, they arrived at the storage unit where the teleportation platform was hidden.

Cyrus pulled the overhead garage door down, sealing them all inside the storage stall. He locked the garage door from the inside using a simple sliding bolt that went from the back of the door and slipped into a hole cut into the door’s track. Not even someone with a key could open the door from the outside after that.

He slid along the side of the SUV to where the group was waiting for him at the back of the narrow garage. The only light came from two bare overhead bulbs.

Everyone was looking at him expectantly. The group was quiet after the events of the day. The bitching and whining, once a constant from certain members, had dried up as the reality of the situation had set in.

Cyrus pulled the phone from his pocket and entered the unlock code. He dialed a number from memory. The call was answered after one ring. “All set?” was all he asked. He listened to the voice on the other end of the line and smiled. “They’re on their way.” He clicked off.

“Okay, folks,” Cyrus said addressing the team. “As we discussed, you’re going off the grid. No outside contact until this is sorted out. I trust today has shown the kind of danger we currently face. But don’t worry, the safehouse will look like club med after that motel.”

“Where are you sending us?” Sanjay asked, as he looked at the raised platform.

“For your protection, even you won’t know the location of the safehouse. Not to worry, though, everything you need will be provided. Step right up.”

Two at a time, the team boarded the platform and were literally gone in a flash. In the span of five minutes, the team was transferred, and Cyrus stood alone in the storage unit.

He looked around the silent, empty space. It was only the platform, the SUV, and himself. The quiet and the dim light was soothing. The stabbing pain behind his eyes remained, a lingering reminder of the Taser and the men from the motel. Finally, he stepped onto the platform and tapped a series of buttons on the screen of his phone. The platform’s five-second countdown began.

It would be good to get back home.

Berton Springs, Colorado

Thursday, 5:20 pm

Cyrus made a quick stop in Miami before heading home. He needed information, but showing up at Nathan’s shop twice in one day would surely draw suspicion from Nathan’s watchers. He needed to be discreet.

He stopped at a nearby messenger service and arranged for a delivery to Nathan at his shop. The package contained the cell phone and IDs taken off the three men who had attacked the motel in Bakersfield. Nathan would pull the call history from the phone and run the backgrounds of the three thugs.

Writing a note, Cyrus asked him to put a rush on the background checks. Since Nathan already had a solid lead on the Latino crew that attacked Reese’s apartment, it wouldn’t take long to confirm these three were part of the same crew, if that was the case.

After the brief side trip, it was home to Colorado. Cyrus considered his circumstances with amusement as he stepped from the platform. It was funny that the house already had the feel of home. More so than his apartment in Chicago ever had. The apartment always had a temporary sense to it. But something about the house, particularly out in the middle of nowhere, just seemed
comfortable
. It was quiet, safe, and secure. The feeling was starkly unfamiliar, but one he was growing to enjoy. Still, he had to wonder how much of that contentment was thanks to the seclusion and how much was the result of his time with Reese. She had had an even more profound impact on him than the house.

Cyrus found Reese sitting on the floor of the basement vault. When her eyes met his, he saw them light up. The smile on her face was twice as obvious in her brown eyes. She pulled herself up from the hard concrete floor and crossed the room with the gracefulness of a dancer, virtually throwing herself into his arms. He pulled her close and breathed her in. He had been away only a few hours, but he had missed her. It wasn’t prone to developing feelings so quickly.

As if proving their bond, Reese pulled away only far enough for her mouth to find his. Her kiss was deep and consuming. Time stood still as he held her, their kisses growing more and more impassioned, their bodies pressed more and more tightly together.

Finally they both broke for air. Cyrus looked down at the pale skin of her face. Her cheeks were a deep pink, and she was out of breath. He was too, for that matter. “I missed you,” she said quietly.

“Keep it up, and I’ll leave over and over, just so I can come back to this.” His words were quiet but his smile was wide. He still held her locked in his arms.

She laughed. Her eyes remained locked on his. He knew this was one of those moments, an important point in their relationship. He wanted to take her up to his bed right then. For that matter, he was certain she wanted the same thing. But as much as the timing felt right, it really wasn’t. Not if she was who he believed her to be. The decisions they made now would have repercussions, and it was important that they start this relationship off right. For the first time in a very long time, he felt the desire to truly connect with another person. This…this would be great. But he knew they could do better. But how could he explain as much without her misunderstanding?

Her eyes searched his for a moment before her smile shifted. He could read something different in her expression, but it wasn’t clear what she was thinking. She wasn’t disappointed… It was as if she understood. It was as if she was thinking exactly the same thing and had come to precisely the same conclusion.

“So chivalry isn’t dead?” she said with a coy, sexy smile. She kissed him gently once more before pulling herself free. “Just don’t make me wait too long,” she said in a barely perceptible whisper before stepping away.

Looking back over her shoulder, she motioned for him to follow. “Come on. It isn’t much but I made some sandwiches. We can eat while you tell me how it went.”

Cyrus stood there for a few moments and watched her prance away. She was something, there was no doubt about that.

He touched the screen of the security pad beside the wiring cabinet, and watched as the vault door slide silently shut. Then he followed Reese upstairs. She wanted to know how things had gone. That would be a story.

—————

They sat at
the kitchen breakfast counter, a plate of sandwiches between them. Until he’d taken the first bite, Cyrus hadn’t realized how hungry he was. He devoured two turkey and swiss on wheats and downed a bottle Modelo before he finished the story of his run in with the thugs at the motel. He downplayed the drama of the situation, but Reese was getting good at reading between the lines.

For her part, she listened with rapt attention, stopping him only to clarify the occasional detail. By the time he’d finished recounting the events of the morning, it was clear they did in fact have a leak.

“Do you have any suspects?” Reese asked, referring to their leak.

He waggled his hand.
Maybe, maybe not.
“I’m working on it. I want to pick your brain. I need to know more about the project, if I’m going to put the pieces together.”

“You think the leak is on the team?”

Cyrus thought for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “You tell me. Other than the six members of the team, who knows else about Meridian?”

Reese sat back on her stool. Her eyes went distant as she gave the question deliberate consideration. “The question isn’t as easy to answer as it would’ve been two days ago. Two days ago, I would have said it was contained to the seven members of the team.”

Her eyes dropped and her expression deflated as something occurred to her. “
Six
members of the team,” she corrected. “I still can’t get used to Walter being gone.”

With a slight nod of understanding, Cyrus gave her a moment to sort her thoughts. As far as he was able to determine, she was the closest thing to family Meade had had. “What changed?”

“Those files!” she sputtered nodding her head in the direction of the floor and the basement beyond. “All the documentation Walter left you in the vault—I didn’t know anything about it. As far as I knew, Meridian started seven years ago, when I joined the project and Walter set up the lab.
The current lab.
”