Devil's Run (34 page)

“Two, three, four,
four,” shouted Catherine.

They were between me and
the man with the gun. I reached for the gun safe and pressed the number pattern
she’d given me. The door popped open and a spring pushed the handle of
Catherine’s revolver partway out.

Schecter stepped back
and pointed his gun at Catherine. I had no choice but to go for him first,
shooting him through the head as I turned. The blast was deafening in the
confined space. Something stung my neck. I turned towards Kohl.

He was pointing a pistol
at me, his free hand restraining the other man’s gun arm. I tried to shoot him,
but my arms were lead weights. My fingers opened of their own volition and the
revolver was swallowed by a black whirlpool in the kitchen floor. I followed it
down into the darkness.

I was cold again. Not
the mind numbing, teeth chattering, wind driven cold of the ice storm, but
something more insidious, a damp, wet chill that lived in air heavy with
moisture, a chill that flowed steadily into my body where my right cheek was
pressed against a concrete floor. My head felt as if I’d taken too much allergy
medicine, and my vision was blurry. I blinked several times to clear my eyes,
and the bottom of a gray metal door swam into focus about four feet in front of
me. The door had a slot in the bottom for food trays. I was in a cell.

 I rolled over onto
my back, or at least I tried to. My hands, cuffed behind me, made the process
difficult and the position uncomfortable, so I rolled back onto my side. I
gathered my legs behind me and, with some effort contorted myself onto my
knees. From there I swung my legs out to a sitting position.

“Nicely done,” said
Catherine Masterson.

I rotated around in a
series of hops and scuffles. The cell was about twenty feet long by ten feet
wide, with four metal bunks down one side. Welded to the foot of each bunk was
a metal ring. A steel toilet and a sink were bolted to the far wall. Catherine
was seated on one of the bunks, hands still cuffed behind her.

“Where are we?” My voice
was thick.

“I don’t know. They had
a hood on me the whole time. We drove for about thirty minutes, but with the
weather, that doesn’t tell us much. Then we were in some kind of building and
took an elevator. Down I think, into an empty building or a tunnel. We walked
for a while. Until we ended up here.”

I shook my head to clear
it. “I thought I’d wake up dead.”

“Kohl shot you with a
tranquilizer gun. According to them you should be out for another two hours.
He’s a scary good shot, by the way.”

“How long have I been
out?”

“I figure it’s been
eight hours, maybe more.”

Using my hands to push
forward and the heels of my feet to grip the floor, I propelled myself over to
her.

“What did you hear?”

“I heard parts of a
conversation Kohl had on the phone or a radio. Turns out Kohl wanted to kill us
both right away, but he was overruled. He left us here. Something urgent he had
to take care of.”

“Confirms Kohl’s not in
charge.” I twisted around until I could rest my back on the edge of the bunk
next to her.

“Nick.” I looked up at
her and I could see she was, and had been, fighting the despair and panic she
felt. “They’re going to kill us, aren’t they?” she said.

“They’re going to try.”

Her expression turned
quizzical. “You have a plan?”

“Not really. I’m kind of
making it up as I go along.”

“That’s reassuring.”

I looked up at her. Her
hair was still done up with bobby pins.

“What are you staring
at?”

“I didn’t care much for
that hair style the first time I saw it, but now I love it.”

“Are you sure you’re
fully conscious?”

“Okay,” I said, “please
don’t take this next move personally.”

Pressing my right
shoulder against the edge of the bunk, I pivoted towards her and lunged up and
over, planting my face right in her lap.

“Oh, for God’s sake!”

“Trust me,” I said, my
voice muffled by her trousers, “I know what I’m doing.”

“I have very little
evidence of that.”

By bracing my head
against her body, I was able to bring my chest up onto her knees. I moved up,
pressing my head against her chest until my crotch was on her left knee. From
there I simply rolled onto the bunk beside her.

“Did you have to prove
that everything my father ever told me about men is true?”

“You wound me,” I said,
gasping for breath.

“I can think of simpler
ways you could have accomplished that.”

“Now you tell me.”

“Now that you’re here,
what difference does it make?”

“Well, first of all,
it’s much cozier and, second, we’re going to get you out of those cuffs.”

“Without a key?”

“You have a key.”

She shook her head.
“They took it.”

“The one in your hair.”

“What?”

“I need a bobby pin.”

“You’re going to open
handcuffs with a bobby pin?”

“Stranger things have
happened. Now lean your head down.”

After a moment’s
hesitation, she leaned down to where I could reach her hair with my mouth.

“Wow,” I said, “you
smell good for a cop.”

“You really are a
jackass.”

I got my teeth onto a
bobby pin. “Pull - away - slowly,” I said, taking my time with each word so as
not to open my teeth. As she did so, the pin came free of her hair.

She turned to look at
me. “Now what?”

“We – have - to – open –
it –up.”

“How?”

I widened my eyes and
raised my eyebrows up and down like Groucho Marx.

“You’ve got to be
kidding me,” she said.

I puckered up. She shook
her head, but leaned in until her lips met mine. It was not at all unpleasant.
Her skin smelled like peaches and I particularly enjoyed it when she used her
tongue to maneuver the pin.

“Ready?” she asked, in a
ventriloquist’s murmur.

“Not - yet.”

After a few moments
where neither of us moved, she murmured something unintelligible, but that
sounded like “jackass”, and slowly began to pull away.

“That’s enough,” I said.
“Hold it there.” I released my teeth and sat back. “Now I have to strip it.
Hold tight.” I leaned forward again and used my front teeth to strip the
protective coating off. I spit the piece on the floor.

Catherine cleared her
throat and raised her eyebrows.

“I’ve got to bend the
end. Keep holding.”

I leaned forward and bit
down, bending the pin into the shape I wanted. Releasing my grip, I shifted on
the bench until I was facing away from her. I turned the palms of my hands
upward and twisted my head to look over my shoulder.

“Very carefully, I need
you to drop the pin into the palm of my hand.”

After what seemed an
awfully long time, the pin hit the edge of my left palm, but it bounced. I
curled my fingers and caught it before it could fly away.

“Jesus,” said Catherine.

“Okay, turn around and
show me the cuffs.” I manipulated the pin to where I could grasp it with the
fingers of my right hand, turning it carefully until the bend I’d created was
extended. I looked over my shoulder at her cuffs and maneuvered the pin into
the lock, using the cuffs to give the end another bend.

“These things work on a
ratchet,” I said. “If you manipulate it right, you can hold the pawl back and
pop them open.”

I worked in silence for
a few minutes. Then she spoke, her voice serious.

“Kohl said something
while they were bringing us here.”

I didn’t like the sound
of this. “Really?”

“He warned his men you
were a trained assassin.”

“We all have our
faults.”

There was silence for a
while. I concentrated on the lock.

“So it’s true?”

“I could tell you, but
I’d have to kill you. Whoops. Guess that sort of gives it away.”

“Kohl said you’d killed
some of their people.”

“Not as many as I could
have. In my defense, I wasn’t really trying.”

The handcuffs clicked
opened.

“Voila!”

She rubbed her wrists.
“Now what?”

“Now, we try to get out
of here. But, first, I gotta pee like a racehorse.”

“You do. I’ve been
sitting here for hours.”

 “Shut up!” I could
hear voices outside the door, coming closer. “Close the cuffs and hide them and
your hands behind your back. Whatever happens, don’t let them know you’re
loose.”

I threw myself off the
bed, back on the floor, lying in the same spot where I’d awakened. I closed my
eyes just before I heard the little viewing port in the door slide open.

“He’s still out,” said a
man’s voice.

“Then we must wake him
up,” said another man. “What is the date?”

The viewing port slid
shut before the first man replied. Eight electronic beeps were followed by
sound of a heavy bolt being thrown. Through slitted eyelids, I watched the door
swing open. A pair of black leather military boots planted themselves in front
of my face.

“Help me with him.”

I was hauled up and
roughly shoved into a sitting position on the bunk next to Catherine’s. They made
a point of slamming me back against the wall. Two guards in the standard orange
parka and black cargo pants of the Diablo Canyon goon squad were standing over
me.

“Go get them,” said one.
He stepped back, drawing his USP and pointing it casually in my direction. The
other man left the room without a word.

 “Please try
something,” said my guard.

Imperatrice and Kohl
entered, Rich smiling as always, Kohl looking rather grumpy. For some reason,
both were holding black flashlights.

“Nick!” said Imperatrice.
“No ill effects from the dart, I trust?”

“Dart?”

“He’s quite handy with
that thing. And I’m sure you needed the rest.”

“Thanks. Sorry about
your pet cop.”

He came over and stood
in front of me, hands loosely clasped in front of him. I tried to catch a glimpse
of his watch.

“Don’t smirk, Nick. You
did us a favor. Schecter was a bit of a liability, spending far above his
supposed means, despite our guidance. Now he’s dead in the chief’s house, your
fingerprints on the gun. The chief of police herself is missing and what do you
know, your DNA is in the hot tub.” He glanced at Catherine. “And maybe other
places, if you had time to get lucky. Because the good Lord knows you’re shit
out of luck now. A cop killer on the run. Soon to be considered a double cop killer,
once poor Catherine here turns up in an empty lot, sexually abused and
strangled by you, you nasty man.”

He walked over to her.

“Chief Masterson.
Looking lovely, despite your unfortunate ordeal.”

Catherine squinted at
him, but said nothing.

“And what condition will
I be found in?” I said.

“Oh, Nick, you won’t be
found at all. We have something very special planned for you. It will be my
pleasure to show you.”

“I must again insist we
kill them now,” said Kohl. “Keeping them alive is pointless.”

“You are a practical
man, Herr Kohl, but we have our orders. The boss wants to know who they might
have spoken to. I know the Chief here has talked to Roma. And it’s still not
clear how Nick managed to bumble his way out of Mexico.” He smiled down at me.
“And we need to know what Boyd might have told you during your little ski
holiday.”

“This man is dangerous.”
said Kohl. “I have lost many men because of him.”

“Sounds like you need to
refine your selection process.”

“Laugh if you must, but
we shouldn’t take the chance. He has already damaged our operation.”

“And we need to limit
that damage, by finding out what he knows and who he might have told.” He
looked at me and smiled. “Besides, he also needs know what a complete fool he’s
been. Has always been.” He feigned a look of sadness. “Before he leaves us.”

Movement at the door
caught my attention. Boyd came through the door, looking confused. He was
followed by Ms. Ricasso.

Imperatrice turned
towards the door. “Ah, Jeffrey, there you are.”

“Richard.” Boyd looked
disoriented.

“So, what do you think
of the operation?”

“Er, impressive. But, I
don’t understand. Why am I here? I told you I didn’t want to know anything
about this end of it.”

Imperatrice looked at me
and shook his head. “Typical white collar criminal, eh Nick? Doesn’t want to
know how the sausage is made, just wants to launder the profits.” He turned
back to Boyd. “Sorry, Jeff, you were saying?”

“We all agreed,” said
Boyd, a little peevishly, “that it was best for everyone that I not know too
much.”

“In case you got
caught?”

“Exactly.”

Behind him, Ms.
Ricasso’s hands were behind her head, fiddling with her necklace.

“I couldn’t agree more,”
said Imperatrice. “We couldn’t give you the option of saving your own skin by
throwing the rest of us to the wolves. Fortunately, that is no longer a
problem.”

Boyd frowned. “Why is
that?”

“We’ve decided to go in
another direction. Your services are no longer required.”

Ms. Ricasso flipped the
necklace over Boyd’s head and savagely cinched it tight, pulling him off balance.
He fell to a sitting position on the floor. She planted a knee in his back and
kept the pressure up on the necklace, her face twisted into a snarl. The heavy
pendant sank deep into Boyd’s throat. His face turned purple and he clawed at
his neck, trying to find some purchase on the chain.

“You see Jeff,” said
Imperatrice, “you’re just too much of a liability. Not that you’ve been
anything but loyal. You’re just a jinx. You were a hedge fund manager, so you
know there comes a time to just cut your losses. And when we find your son,
we’ll send him along to join you.”

Boyd was beyond hearing.
His bloodshot eyes bulged and the swollen tongue lolled out of his mouth. His
hands dropped to his side and he went limp. A foul smell filled the room as his
bowels voided.

“I think he’s dead,
Isabella,” said Imperatrice.

Ms. Ricasso, her eyes
shining, chest heaving with effort, looked at him uncomprehendingly. Then she
relaxed and lowered Boyd to the floor.

“She sort of liked him,”
said Imperatrice, looking at me. “Imagine what she has in store for you.”

Catherine startled
everyone by saying, in a low, steady voice, “You murdering bastard.”

Imperatrice walked over
to her and bent low, his face close to hers. “You’re half right, Chief. My
parents were married. Still are, in fact. Last I saw, living the good life
right on the fairway in The Villages. But, as murderers go, I’m a piker
compared to your friend here.” Catherine looked sharply at me, then back at
him. He smiled at her. “It’s a really interesting story, but I’m pressed for
time.”