THE RISK OF LOVE AND MAGIC (30 page)

At dawn, he’d be patrolling the kitchen just to snatch coffee. Seeing no one outside, Nadine leaned against the wall by the kitchen door and listened to voices.

Two males, instead of just the usual one. The general must have brought some of his own people. How did she want to play this?

If she had a choice—in a darkened room with a computer screen. Unfortunately, this wasn’t a video game.

She opened the screen door and tested the door latch to the inner door. It was locked. No alarms screamed, but they might if she tried the keypad. She wasn’t ready to surrender her freedom this early in the game by attempting to break the security code.

Locating a hiding place behind the recycle bin, she dug a tin can from inside the container. It didn’t take an athlete to chuck a can against the kitchen window and hit it. She ducked down, peered around the corner of the bin, and waited.

Both guards appeared at the door.

“It’s just a cat or raccoon,” the usual guard protested. “You spook too easy.”

The more conscientious guard said nothing but rested his hand on his gun as he stepped out to examine the fenced yard in the dim light of dawn. Gun—bad. Nadine grimaced and flung a stone to the far corner of the yard.

Cigarette Guy pulled out his smokes. “Cat, like I said.”

Gun Guard moved stealthily toward the back fence.

She’d like to stone Cigarette Guy for blocking her path, but that wouldn’t get him moving. She heaved a bigger rock at the opposite corner of the yard, hitting the big trash Dumpster with a tinny thump.

“Check it out!” Jo-jo’s trained security hissed.

The real danger was keeping the mentally ill inside, but still Cigarette Guy strolled out, sipping his coffee and sucking his cigarette. It would be so easy to knock the arrogant ass out . . .

But that would give her away too quickly to Gun Guy. She may have been deprived of television, but she’d learned to think her way through video game obstacles. She needed to enter the building without using weapons.

Neither guard was as far away as she would like, but they’d left the door unlocked and that was all she needed. Nadine kept to the shadows of the wall and eased open the screen. Cigarette Guy should know better than to leave any door unsecured. In another half hour, he’d have inmates roaming all over the yard—worth thinking about, actually.

She slipped into the dimly lit corridor. At this hour, most of the inmates were starting to wake as their sedation wore off. The day staff hadn’t arrived yet.

The cleaning supply room was unoccupied.

Nadine pulled a scrub cap over her hair, donned the blue smock the janitorial staff wore, covered her shoes with paper booties—and located the master room key.

***

Magnus gritted his teeth and listened at the unlocked back gate—Nadine’s only escape route—wishing he’d tied her up and left her in the car.

He’d just let a walking Improvised Explosive Device into a confined location. He didn’t expect anything less than explosions. If he’d once again misunderstood a female, what happened next was on his head.

The tin can hitting glass froze him into alert position. What sounded like a rock followed, then the voices of the two guards. His heart climbed up his throat. Maybe he’d take up munching tranquilizers so he could learn to accept doing nothing.

When he heard no shouts or gun shots, he tried to breathe again. Praying Nadine was safely inside or she would have let him know, he worked his way along the outside of the fence. He used his phone to send notes and photos to Conan, marking cameras, landing areas, and roof lines. It would take time for Conan to pull together a team for this operation and transport them up here. Not knowing how long the general would be here, they didn’t have time to spare.

He and Nadine were essentially on their own.

The parking lot was inside the security fence, as he’d learned that first morning. Through the wrought iron gates, he could see a silver Escalade in the lot. He assumed it belonged to the general. The rest of the cars were small, older models that the night nurses might drive. Doctors and administration hadn’t arrived yet.

There was almost no place to hide inside or outside the fence once the sun rose. It didn’t matter. He was responsible for whatever happened, and he had to be closer when all hell broke loose. Climbing that fence and running for the house if Nadine screamed wasn’t on his preferred approach list. Besides, he wanted her to have more than one exit route.

No night guard sat in the front entrance booth. The day shift would show up soon.

Here was an action he could take instead of waiting like a shackled dog.

Checking for wires on the guardhouse and finding none, he popped the lock. Keeping his head down, he slipped inside and stayed low while he examined the gate mechanism. A handy pocket screwdriver later, and the gate creaked open.

A truck rumbled up the hill as he dashed inside and shoved the gate closed again.

Lights were flashing all over the west wing of the building.

***

Nadine hummed under her breath, trying to relieve her tension, as she worked her way down the security wing of the building, mopping and unlocking any door she encountered. The computer room was at the far end. No light gleamed under the door, so she assumed the general had finally found other entertainment and gone to bed. Another good reason she couldn’t connect with his mind—men didn’t think during sex or while sleeping. That was her theory anyway, and who could argue with it?

She’d spent months traversing these floors in slippers and sloppies, listening to the howls and mumbles behind closed doors. She had no idea what would happen once the patients learned they had access to freedom. She’d never seen more than this main hall and wasn’t even certain what awaited down the corridors and inside the rooms she was unlocking. She could hope for more doors, lots of patients, and presumably fire exits. She really hoped there were fire exits.

She parked her mop and bucket outside the computer room and tested the door lock with her master key. Glory hallelujah, it opened without setting off alarms.

No longer humming, she shut and locked the door after she entered. Other people had keys, and a good hatchet would probably take out the lock, but rattling the latch would give her a warning. She hoped to be done before anyone found her.

She powered up the main computer. The new IT guy wasn’t any fool—he’d set up new passwords. She plugged in the USB stick Conan had given her for hacking passwords, but it would need time she didn’t have. Filthy bad word.

A cackling wail outside the office raised her hackles. One of the inmates had presumably discovered an open door.

Footsteps raced through the tile corridor and a nurse shouted. In response, half a dozen voices raised in panicked cacophony.

That ought to keep the limited staff occupied a while. Maybe they’d even have to drag Nurse Wretched out of the general’s bed.

Not whistling anymore, she crouched down and pulled out the desk to get at the box containing the hard drives. She’d planned for this alternative, but she didn’t like it. Her fingers shook as she pried off the case. She couldn’t let self-doubt stand in her way any longer. She could very well be blowing up the world, but if she didn’t try, the general would stay in charge.

The general had been in charge far more than was safe. Her turn.

She popped the back of the box and whispered
freedom.

A fire alarm screamed.

“I’m fine,” she whispered into her mic. “I’m all alone and dismantling the computer.”

“Thank you,” the Maximator’s gravelly voice came through well enough to hear his relief. “I was about to start breaking windows. You’re in the west wing?”

Amazingly, his calm assumption that she knew what she was doing gave her the confidence to start unscrewing delicate parts. Considering his question, she worked out the home’s layout in her head. “Yeah, west sounds right. I let the inmates loose. One must have set off the alarm. They’re a little occupied out there. The general will be down soon. I’ve got to get the box apart before he arrives.” Without blowing up anything, she didn’t say.

“Roger, wilco. Where are you in relation to the rest of the rooms?”

“End office. Only small windows high up. Negative on entering.” She disabled a few wires while they talked . . . Nothing exploded. She just had to pray there were no automatic triggers on the explosives. She would have built a fail-safe into the program— but then, she wouldn’t have built programs to detonate explosives in the first place. “I feel all military. Think the Marines would take me?”

“No. Get the job done and get out so I can go after Adams.” He didn’t sound happy.

Nadine knew getting out wasn’t happening. She was pretty much trapped in here. The confinement grated her nerves to a fine point. One wrong move, and she might mentally explode.

She tried to hum as she worked but couldn’t. She was a software person, not hardware. Her fingers shook as she dismantled a memory board.

The shouts in the corridor grew louder, more panicked.

Someone attempted to turn the knob. Here it was . . . the moment of truth. With nothing better to do, Nadine determinedly continued unscrewing wires and removing chips, decimating the general’s plans one micrometer at a time.

She’d delay calling for Magnus until all hope was lost. She didn’t need to read minds to know it would be very messy indeed once the general, Magnus, and guards with guns were in the same room.

Magnus studied the narrow windows over his head. Nadine was in there, but he’d have to tear down the wall to get at her. Even though a fire alarm screamed like an irritating banshee, he wasn’t ready yet to scale walls. She’d said she was safe. He might have to chew nails, but he had to believe her.

He figured he’d know when all hell exploded. Nadine wouldn’t go out with a whimper.

The sun was rising behind the trees on the far side of the building, casting a gray shadow over the adobe walls. If he was careful, he still had a little time to poke around and form a more sophisticated rescue plan than “batter down door and all obstacles.”

This entire wing was nearly windowless, except for the high narrow ones near the roof. The other wing had an atrium but this was obviously the security wing for the patients most likely to harm themselves or others. He didn’t feel real secure thinking of Nadine in there.

He located the fire exits on the north and south sides of the wing. They were some distance from Nadine’s computer office, and the steel doors would require a monster truck ramming into them to open. If he remembered the OSHA rules on mental institutions, they were probably locked from the inside as well. Not a good exit for Nadine unless she had the keys.

It would be simpler for him to enter through the front entrance, although that was even further from the office and presumably better guarded.

He crouched between two air-conditioning units and texted Conan. The reply was almost instantaneous: FRANCESCA AND BO IN HELICOPTER. ETA HALF HOUR. CARS TWO HOURS OUT. SHERIFF WITH.

Sheriff with? Did that mean they’d found something at the school that might actually mean the law would finally step in? That brightened his morning. At the moment, he and Nadine were facing years of incarceration for breaking and entering.

The estimated time of arrival did not make him happy—not with the demented screams of hell breaking loose inside. Dorrie’s brother and Francesca couldn’t catch the general from a helicopter. With luck, they might help with a hasty exit.

The truck he’d heard earlier stopped outside the guard booth. Magnus watched the uniformed security guard climb out, sipping his coffee. The man had his keys out to unlock the door and didn’t appear to notice it was already unlocked. He just jiggled the knob and took his seat inside.

The guard wouldn’t discover the gate breach until he attempted to open the gate—which could be momentarily. Two more cars were making the final climb up the road.

“Reinforcements arriving,” he whispered into the mic.

“Yeah, they’re at the door,” she murmured back. “Here’s where I find out if I’ve blown up the world.”

After that, Magnus just heard shouts, and his blood pressure escalated two hundred percent. He knew how the angry green Hulk felt.

***

Nadine checked the various objects on the weapons belt hidden beneath her hoodie. Conan had stocked it well. She already knew there were no scissors in the room, no potential weapons for the mentally confused. Even the coffeemaker was the one-cup kind and used paper cups.

She verified the position of her stun gun while grinding a hard drive with her foot. Jo-jo wouldn’t be blowing up anyone from here today. Whoever had been pounding on the door had switched to a stronger tool, probably a fire ax.

She still wore her scrub woman’s cap and tunic. Pity she couldn’t add aluminum foil to complete her fashionable attire for the party.

She wasn’t operating under any illusion that the general would miss her invite.

Nervously, she perched on the edge of the desk and looked for sharp shards of plastic in the mess she’d made. Maybe Jo-jo would have a stroke seeing what she’d done. A girl could hope.

The solid wood door finally splintered enough for her guest to batter it open with his shoulder. One of the institution’s uniformed guards spilled through first. Nadine stunned him and let him fall, jerking spastically, to the floor.

She glanced down and recognized the toad who’d laughed at her. Good. He’d got what was coming.

Jo-jo stood in the doorway in . . .
dishabille
. She’d always liked that word. His normally creased slacks were rumpled and unbelted. His unbuttoned dress shirt revealed a white t-shirt and a few crisp gray curls beneath. His gray crew cut had thinned over the years. His unshaven bristles were gray too. He looked like a shriveled, confused old man, not the roaring, uniformed dragon of her nightmares.

“Hi, Daddy,” she said brightly, swinging her leg from her desk perch above the debris of the computer. “If any of your targets are set to go boom if the fail-safe is removed, you might want to warn a few people to get out of the way.”