Cold Sanctuary (John Decker Series Book 2) (21 page)

BOOK: Cold Sanctuary (John Decker Series Book 2)
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Decker raced from the apartment and headed in the direction of the elevator, then changed his mind and sped past it to the emergency stairwell. The elevator would take too long, and he didn’t have any time to spare.

He burst through the door and took the stairs two at a time, his footfalls echoing in the enclosed space.

When he reached the fifth floor he hurried to Mina’s apartment and stopped to catch his breath, his heart racing, and then knocked.

A voice from the other side of the door instructed him to enter.

Decker pushed the door open and stepped into the apartment to find Mina sitting on the sofa. Hovering behind her was a man in a long coat, a pistol pointed toward her head.

“Close the door behind you,” the man said.

Decker did as he was instructed, then turned to face the man holding a gun on Mina.

Mina looked up. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You did nothing wrong.” Decker fixed his gaze on the stranger. “I’m here, now what do you want?”

“Are you unarmed?”

“Yes.” Decker nodded. “That is what you instructed, isn’t it?”

“Good.” The man smiled, but there was no mirth in his expression. “My name is Silas.”

“Silas what?” Decker closed the gap between them. He summed up his chances of attacking, taking the gun from Mina’s captor without it going off. He discarded the idea. There was no way he would be able to disarm the man before a bullet slammed into Mina’s head. “You must have a last name.”

“Just Silas.” The stranger cleared his throat. “You called me earlier this evening.”

“Yes.” Decker wondered how Silas had tracked them. His guess was that the phone must have had some sort of GPS locator software installed. Damn. He should have been more careful. Not only had he drawn the attention of a man who was clearly dangerous, but also had made the call in Mina’s home, putting her squarely in the line of fire.

“The girl here says that you found a bag.”

“We did.”

“And the phone was in that bag.”

“It was.” Decker nodded.

“So you know nothing of the two men that own this bag?”

“No. The bag was hidden.”

“I see.” Silas shrugged. “It would have been nice to find my compadres. It’s of no concern. You have done me a huge service, and for that I must thank you.”

“Our pleasure.” Decker stole a glance at Mina. She looked scared, but was otherwise unharmed. “Feel free to take the bag and leave.”

“Oh, it’s not quite that simple,” Silas said. “I’m here to find my friends, but more than that, I need what they came here for, and that bag dropping into my lap gives me the means to do so.” Silas produced one of the key cards from the bundle. He turned it in his fingers. “I had these made from an original I tracked down a few years ago. The owner needed more than a little persuading to hand it over.”

“You might as well tell us what is so damned important, since you are probably going to kill us anyway.”

“Oh I’m not going to kill you, at least not yet.” Silas slipped the gun under his coat. “Now I think it’s time we take a little walk.”

 

 

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“Where are we going?” Mina asked as she was ushered into the elevator.

“Wait and see.” Silas waited for Decker to follow, and then followed him in. He pressed the button for the lobby and waited for the doors to close before speaking again. “I think you will be quite surprised.”

“You won’t get away with this.” Mina moved close to Decker. “If we come up missing people will look for us.”

“Do be quiet.” Silas looked at Decker. “Is she always this melodramatic?”

Decker said nothing. He was weighing his chances of taking Silas down. The man was slight of build, and had a good fifteen years on Decker. He didn’t look like he would be much of a fight, but there was the matter of the gun, the great equalizer. It was an older model from an extinct company, not even in production anymore, but that didn’t mean the bullets were any less deadly. Even though Silas had tucked the pistol into his coat, he still held it, which meant it could be used at a moment's notice, and Decker sensed something in his adversary, a coldness that told him the man would not hesitate. He’d met people like this before. Calculating and utterly ruthless, they possessed little empathy and thought nothing of taking a life. Decker wondered how many people Silas had killed.

The elevator reached the lobby. They exited and crossed the expanse of tiled floor, skirted the fountain, and headed for the front doors. The lobby was empty, but even so, Silas kept them moving at a fast clip, his eyes darting from side to side as if he expected to be caught at any moment.

Once outside they turned toward the north tower. A young couple loitered next to a pickup truck, their laughter carrying on the breeze. They ignored the passing trio, lost in each other. Decker stole a glance toward Mina, a silent warning not to cry out. The concealed gun was a very real threat, and he could not take the chance of a bloodbath.

Once they were beyond the shadow of the south tower, halfway across the parking lot that divided the two structures, Mina spoke up. “We’re going to the north tower?”

“Not exactly,” Silas replied, his voice guarded and low. “Just keep moving. I’ll tell you where to go.”

They reached the base of the tower. Decker expected their captor to order him to open the main doors, but instead he nudged them along the perimeter of the building and around to the rear. A minute later they arrived at what looked like a service entrance set into the back wall. A sign on the weathered steel door read AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.

Mina and Decker exchanged looks.

Silas took the key card from his pocket and swiped it through a reader set into the wall. For a moment nothing happened, and then there was a soft click.

The door swung inward to reveal a dark corridor. The air wafting through the door smelled dank.

“Quickly now.” Silas motioned for them to enter.

“You want us to go in there?” Mina peered through the opening.

“Yes,” Silas replied, a hint of frustration in his voice. He pulled the gun out again. “Now move.”

“Do as he says.” Decker placed a guiding hand on her back and together they stepped into the corridor with Silas close behind.

They moved forward.

Silas stayed a few steps behind. Decker was all too aware of the gun pointed at their backs. He wondered where they were being led, and to what end.

At the end of the corridor they came across another door. This one was different than the first. Decker recognized it immediately.

An elevator.

He studied the door. Why would they hide an elevator in a dead end corridor behind the building? His mind flew back to the Naval history book. There was talk of laboratories at the Shackleton base. Maybe they had not been stripped back when the Navy left. Maybe they were still here, and what better place to hide a secret test facility than deep underground, with an innocuous office block sitting above. After all, the place was built at the height of the Cold War, and Russia was close by. This was a perfect place to develop and deploy weaponry.

Silas flashed his key card again, this time using it to access the elevator. There was a low mechanical throb, and the door slid open.

 

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At nine-thirty that evening Adam Hunt found himself at one of only two restaurants in town, a seedy, seen better days, diner that looked like a thousand other places up and down the country. He sat propped up at the counter, nursing a cup of black coffee and picking at a plate of fried shrimp.

He would never show it in front of Dominic, but he felt a little disturbed by what he had heard in the lab. It wasn’t just the dreadful wailing from the creature, but the scientist’s belief that the thing was still changing. Heaven alone knew what the end result of the mutations might be.

“Would you like a refill, Hon?”

Hunt looked up.

The waitress, a middle aged woman with long red hair and a pale complexion, raised an eyebrow. In her hand she held a half full pot of coffee.

“Sure. Why not?” He watched her pour the liquid to the brim of his cup.

“You look like a man that has seen his fair share of troubles.” The waitress, her nametag read Chloe, smiled and leaned against the back counter.

“I’ve been in a few scrapes, that’s for sure,” Hunt replied, not sure why he was engaging in idle chat. He should be out there, trying to track down the creature that was slaying town folk. Despite his gruff exterior he could not help but feel responsible for the situation. If he had done his job right none of this would be happening. He took a sip of his coffee. "What do I owe you?”

“Twelve bucks even.” Chloe’s eyes fell to his plate of food. “You’ve hardly touched your shrimp.”

“I’m not hungry.” Hunt pulled out his wallet and found two ten-dollar bills. He slipped them across the counter.

Chloe picked them up and turned toward the cash register. “I’ll just get you some change.”

“Don’t bother.” Hunt was already sliding from his stool. He downed the last of he coffee and started in the direction of the door.

“Are you sure?” Chloe sounded surprised.

Hunt waved his arm in reply, without looking back, and then he was outside.

It was getting dark.

He hurried toward the south tower and rode up to his apartment, eager to check the day’s audio and video transmitted by the surveillance equipment he had placed in both Decker and Mina’s apartments. With Wilder dead the ex-sheriff had taken over the investigation, something he had not anticipated. If Decker discovered what was really going on in Shackleton there would be trouble. Things were bad enough already. He didn’t need his mistakes to become public knowledge.

He slipped down into his chair and keyed up the footage.

At first he didn’t see anything amiss. He hadn’t checked the audio and video since the day before, and it didn’t look like he would have much to worry about. The motion-activated camera in Decker’s apartment was still up and running, sending its signal to his laptop where it was logged and recorded. He watched Mina and Decker talk about the stack of books on his kitchen table, saw Decker leave to attend the crime scene at the docks, and watched him return. The next clip however, was different. Mina was back, and she looked upset.

He listened in as she told Decker about her encounter with the creature and about the bag she had found.

That was a troubling development.

Next he brought up the footage from Mina’s place. Sure enough, there was the bag. He wondered what was in it.

The next video showed Mina and Decker in the bedroom, huddled around the bag, talking. He listened for a while, with a growing feeling of dread.

But it was not until he brought up the final recorded video that he really knew he was in trouble. He watched it twice, saw the stranger force his way inside her apartment, hold her at gunpoint, lure Decker down, and take them away. He listened to their conversation, and then swore under his breath. The time stamp on the video indicated that they had a good hour on him.

Hunt stood and went to the bedroom. He knelt and withdrew a large suitcase from under his bed. He lifted it up, placed it on the mattress, and opened it.

Inside, padded with soft gray foam, were two guns. He lifted the first gun out, a Beretta Model 92 semi-automatic. Hunt slipped the weapon into a shoulder harness and strapped it on under his jacket. Next, he turned his attention to the other gun, an MK 18 assault rifle, which he plucked from the case and weighed in his hands. The gun felt good, like an old friend.

He took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts, then walked to the closet and rummaged around until he came out with a dark blue duffel bag. He dropped it on the bed next to the suitcase, unzipped it, and laid the assault rifle inside, along with a couple of extra 30 round magazines.

Less than a minute later Hunt was back in the corridor and making his way toward the elevator. It was time he took care of business.

 

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Dominic Collins sat in the laboratory. He ignored the screen behind him, and the creature upon it, which kept up its strange wailing. With the sound turned down he was able to pretend it was not there. Instead, his attention focused on the pile of research papers spread across the desk in front of him. For the last two hours he had been scouring these old documents, written by the original researchers back in the sixties and seventies, but so far he had not found much in the way of useful information. A great deal of the paperwork was scientific mumbo jumbo; talk of gene mutation and crackpot theories about mixing species. He failed to see how any of it would be viable, let alone useful.

What really troubled him was the talk of human experimentation. Apparently, the research had progressed to such a stage that test subjects were brought in. Whether those subjects volunteered or were conscripts, he had no idea. The notes did not go into detail about that, but judging by the horrendous results of the tests, outlined in several hundred pages of meticulous, shocking detail, he doubted many people would be lining up for the honor of participating. What he did learn however, gave him a much keener insight into what had befallen the creature kept captive in the quarantine wing and serve as a reminder that it had once, not long ago, been a man.

He tried not to think about his earlier conversation with Hunt, or about Hunt’s strange reaction when he asked about the second thief and what happened to him. Hunt had become tight-lipped, evasive even, and Dominic backed off. It was not worth getting on the bad side of a man such as Adam Hunt.

He flipped a page, his eyes scanning yet another droll, dry report written with the sleep inducing tone of a scientist who was putting things down merely for posterity, without any thought that any soul might one day read them.

He stood and stretched, bored, then turned toward the perpetually ready coffee maker.

Only it wasn’t coffee that drew his attention now.

It was the trio of strangers, two men and a girl, standing in the doorway, and the gun that was pointed in his direction.

BOOK: Cold Sanctuary (John Decker Series Book 2)
5.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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