The Gauntlet Assassin (25 page)

Paul sped up and left the neighborhood. He needed to know Morton’s schedule and he could find it if he accessed the commissioner’s message center. He would get in and out quickly. As long as he didn’t send any fraudulent texts, the FBI would never know.

Chapter 31

Fri., May 12, 9:05 a.m.

Lara rode the shuttle to the arena with the two other contestants who remained in the competition: Makil Johnson of Georgia and Jason Copeland, the cocky Illinois competitor who’d annoyed her from day one. Makil worried her the most. He looked about five-eleven, but compared to Jason, he was slender and ageless. His straight black hair was pulled into a ponytail and she knew from his blog he was Chinese, Puerto Rican, and Cherokee.

This morning they would run the Obstacle, a collection of challenge courses that changed every year and could be anything. Lara hoped speed and agility would be more important than strength. Tomorrow would be all about endurance, a twenty-six mile marathon through the suburbs.

“I can’t believe you made it to the final phases.” Jason turned in the van seat, smiling in his smarmy way.

“I just may be the last one standing.” Truthfully, she was a little stunned. Like the other contestants, she’d entered the Gauntlet with the abstract idea that she could pull it off, but the reality of the close calls in every round made her feel lucky to still be here.

“I wonder what they’ve constructed this year,” Jason mused. “I hope there’s a rope climb. I am the master of the rope.”

Lara didn’t feel like chatting. They weren’t on their way to camp. “We’ll see.”

“When this thing is over, I plan to watch your two Battle rounds. That guy from Texas was big. I don’t know how you beat him.”

“The second fight with Eric was harder. I got lucky.” The weapon had been a flying hammer, a cross between an old-style flail and a nunchuk. Made of synthetic polymers, it had a short chain linking two padded ends that were used as both a grip and a strike. Lara had practiced with nunchuks when she was much younger, but had gone into the red circle with little confidence. Fortunately, her second Battle opponent had underestimated her speed and made a fatal error.

“Luck won’t help you today.” Makil spoke from the back of the van for the first time.

Lara turned and nodded, but didn’t respond. They had pulled up in front of the third massive structure on the compound. The Obstacle was open to the sky, with moveable walls that served only to keep the construction a secret. Despite the effort to surprise contestants and viewers each year, some details occasionally leaked out. Lara could see several tall structures but had no idea what they were.

“What have you heard?” Jason asked Makil as they climbed from the van.

“Why would I tell you?” Makil shook his head and trotted over to the row of reporters who stood waiting for them. He was the favorite to win and she’d heard a rumor that he already had spokesperson offers.

Lara braced herself for more media bullshit. It was almost over. Today, the Obstacle; tomorrow the Marathon. She was in the competition to the end now, with both events being strictly about finishing order and voter points. The three contestants who’d made it through the Battle tournament competed in the last phases with no elimination.

The sun beat down and the wind picked up force. Thank god the sky was clear with no storm warnings. Last’s year’s Obstacle had been delayed by several mini-twisters. Media and contestants alike had run for the storm shelter under the main lobby.

A reporter rushed up. “Did you hear about Jodie Hansen’s new Puzzle time?”

Her excited tone gave Lara hope. “We don’t have access to information unless we’re in the arena.”

“Her second time was 10:23 for an average of 7:71. So you won the Puzzle and you now have 233 points. You’re in the lead by 17.”

Her throat swelled with joy. All she could do for a minute was hold back an undignified sob. When she could speak, she said. “That means I have a fighting chance.”

“The analysts give you fifty-fifty odds.”

Lara smiled. “Now I’m feeling downright optimistic.”

Other reporters chatted her up and Minda made a point to get in another quick interview as well. Eager to see what awaited her in the Obstacle, Lara could barely concentrate on their questions. She finally pulled away and hurried through the narrow gate. Could she hold the lead?

The first thing she saw was a thirty-foot wall, topped by three matching T-shaped structures she didn’t understand at first. A rope hung down the wall near each structure. Behind her, someone said, “They’re ziplines.”

Lara’s shoulders slumped in relief. After the thirty-foot rope climb, the zipline would be a breeze—depending on what was on the other side of the wall.

An attendant, this time an older man, ushered her over to the middle rope on the wall and outfitted her with gloves, elbow pads, and a helmet. The headgear gave her a little case of the jitters. They hadn’t even given her a helmet when she faced a two-hundred-pound man with a joust. What the hell was the zipline dropping into?

The attendant gave her brief instructions. “At the top, run for the zipline, grab the straps, and go. When you see the luge below, prepare to release.”

Oh crap.
Now she understood the helmet.

After another five minutes of waiting around and going over safety precautions, she heard an announcer call out, “The Obstacle is about to begin. Attendants, please take your stations. Contestants, make your final preparations.”

Lara had no final prep, just an escalating flood of energy that made her heart pound with anticipation. She gripped the thick rope above her head and bent her knees for the initial jump. Jason’s comment about being a rope master echoed in her brain.
We’ll see,
she thought. Lara had done a lot of rope and wall climbing too.

A starter pistol fired and Lara jumped, landing both feet on the wall. Hand over hand, she surged upward, using her powerful quads as well. She pushed to capacity, not worrying about the pace, breathing from deep in her gut. At the midpoint, she sensed both men had pulled ahead, but not by much. Arms aching, she kept climbing as though her life depended on it. Near the top, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jason scamper over the edge. Makil was parallel with her and they pulled themselves up and over in frantic unison.

Lara scrambled to her feet and charged to the T-shaped structure. She leapt onto the platform and grabbed for the overhead straps at the top of the zipline. Pushing with her legs, she vaulted off the platform and into the air. Hanging by her arms, she sped down the line, noting that Jason had a good lead. His heavier weight worked for him in the descent. Lara allowed herself a quick glance below and saw thick blocks of foam pads twenty feet below. She looked ahead and started watching for the luge she was expected to drop into.

A fluorescent green came into view. Speeding toward it, Lara watched the green blob take shape into a six-foot luge sitting on a metal track. The opening seemed like a ridiculously small target. It was obvious now that she needed to not only drop into the seat but also do it with such grace and timing that her entrance would propel the luge forward until it hit the next downward slope. Lara closed her eyes and slowed her heart rate. When she opened them again, she visualized herself making the drop. In her mind, she conceptualized the exact moment to let go and how to position her body for the landing.

A loud thunk below made her look down. Jason had missed his opening, landed on the edge of the luge, and rolled off to the platform below. He swore loudly, sounding like he was in pain. Nothing in the Obstacle in the two previous years had been this dangerous.

She was ten feet out and counting down. Ready….Now!

Lara let go, arched her back, and tucked her legs. After a quick descent though the air, she landed on the luge’s seat, shoved her feet into the dark opening in front, and threw her body forward. The luge slid toward the next slope. She passed Jason, who was pushing his wheel-less cart along the track to get it moving. Lara’s luge hit the decline and picked up speed. Only then did she realize the track was curved and she would have to steer with her body. She leaned forward and treated it like a downhill bike ride, feeling almost euphoric from the speed and danger.

She soon ran out of slope and the luge slammed into a red canvas-covered foam wall. Lara jumped from the sled and ran back about ten feet. She sprinted for the wall, and from several feet away, she jumped and caught her hands on the top edge. Arms still exhausted from her rope climb, Lara struggled to pull herself up. In her mind, she heard Jackson and Caden both urging her on. As she swung her knee up and over the top, another luge slammed into the foam wall ten feet away, almost shaking her loose. She still had a lead, but someone was right behind her.

A row of elevated rings stretched out into the distance, hung from a minimalist structure. Monkey rings, like an old-school playground, all made of high-tech plastic. Her arms ached already. The first ring was five feet away. Lara leapt from the top of the wall and caught the ring with both hands. As she swung toward the next one, a tiny shock ripped through her shoes, shooting pain into her feet.
Damn!
They were sending pulses of electricity under her. She yanked up her legs and grabbed the next ring. Keeping her lower half in a tucked position added strain to her abdominal muscles and slowed her down. She wondered if the guys were feeling the shock too. Were the viewers punishing her for being in the lead?

She was in the lead, wasn’t she?
Makil had to be back there somewhere. She hadn’t seen his luge move ahead of her.

The rings went on for hundreds of feet. Lara’s arms and abdomen burned with the strain and she was grateful for the gloves. What would happen if she slipped? Would she pass through the layer of shock and land safely on the three-foot-thick pads? She kept grabbing rings, one hand after the other, making small grunting noises from the effort to keep going. The slap of flesh-on-metal closed in behind her.

The end of the structure was twenty feet away. Lara pushed herself but didn’t sense any gain in speed. She was maxed out. She made it to the small platform, crossed it, and saw the slide on the other side. She dropped to her butt, lifted her feet, and slid to the arena floor, made of old runway tarmac.

A single, freestanding escalator rose in the air a hundred yards away. Lara sprinted for it. Pounding footsteps were right behind her, coming at an angle from the right. Jason! Being in the middle, with a straight shot at the escalator, gave her a fraction of an advantage. Lara pumped her arms for all she was worth, her sprint workouts at the track paying off. She hit the escalator first, guessing correctly that the steps were coming down and she’d be working against them.

Taking long strides to hit every third step, Lara began the climb. The escalator was about forty feet long with a twenty-foot rise and was just wide enough that a competitor could pass her if he had the strength and speed. Over the noise of her own labored breathing, she heard Jason sucking wind at her flank. He seemed close enough to reach out and grab her. That kind of contact wasn’t allowed, and with cameras recording every move, she didn’t think he would.

About halfway up, Lara’s lungs began to burn and her throat was as dry as an August day in Arizona. She felt herself slow down. God, this was insane. It could take forever. She pushed on, climbing and climbing and getting almost nowhere.

Behind her, Jason yelled, “Get out of my way!”

Lara ignored him and made a final burst for the top. Another short platform and another escalator. This structure headed back down, but of course, the steps were rising. Legs weakened from her intense climb, Lara stumbled her first step on the escalator, twisting her ankle a little as she landed. A shock of pain traveled up her shin. She fell forward, but grabbed the rails before landing facedown on the moving stairs.

Lara switched strategies and pushed off the rails to vault to the bottom, touching her feet to the upward-bound steps as little as possible. She stumbled off the escalator and looked up for the next obstacle. All she saw was a red ribbon stretched across the middle section of the arena about thirty feet away. Reporters and cameramen waited on the other side.

Ignoring the pain surging everywhere and never once looking over her shoulder, Lara sprinted for the finish.

Chapter 32

Three weeks earlier, Mon., April 24, noon

Paul took a diet pill, ate half his sandwich, and rushed outside. He stood near the bus stop, with no intention of going anywhere. Sweat broke out on his upper body as he waited for Camille to come out of their work building. The summer heat was coming on. Soon he would have to stay inside as much as possible. When he spotted Camille in her white sundress, he stepped behind the bus sign so she wouldn’t see him.

After a minute, he glanced back and watched her walk toward Broadway Bistro, the restaurant she frequented but never invited him to. He suspected she was seeing someone else. She’d canceled their date at the last minute on Friday, saying she wasn’t feeling well, then hadn’t returned his texts over the weekend, except once to say she needed rest.

Paul hadn’t seen her in the office that morning and he thought she was avoiding him. He hurried after her, not bothering to be discrete. Camille never looked back, so he followed her to the restaurant, admiring the way she carried herself, shoulders back and head up. Paul envied her natural confidence.

From inside the restaurant doorway, he saw her take a seat in a booth where another woman waited.
Were they lovers?
Paul saw the hostess eyeball him, so he stepped back outside. Okay, so she’d met a friend for lunch. It didn’t prove she wasn’t seeing another man or that she wasn’t breaking up with him.

He spent the rest of his lunch break walking around the block, sweating in the ninety-degree heat. He figured he burned at least three hundred calories.

Back inside, he went through security and stepped on the elevator. An older co-worker named Marlie was on board. She leaned over and pushed the button for the third floor. “By the way, Paul. I’ve been meaning to say that you look terrific. You’ve lost a lot of weight and it really shows in your face.”