Constant Fear (23 page)

CHAPTER 39

J
ake made another phone call before he descended back into darkness. He needed to speak with Lance.

“Jake! Jake, is that you?”

“Listen, Lance, I don’t have a lot of time. You’ve got to try and convince Haggar I’m not crazy.”

“What?”

“No time to explain. He’ll know what it’s about. Just tell him I’m not nuts. It’s going to go down in here pretty soon, and I’d rather not go at it alone. Tell them to engage. If they hold back, all these kids are going to die, and that includes my son.”

“Andy? Where is Andy? I’m really lost here. You’re not making any sense.”

“And another thing,” Jake said, not wasting a second on backstory. Lance would figure it out eventually. “This is all about money. A lot of money.”

“What?”

“Andy and his friends were involved in something. There was a theft. I told Ellie about someone named Javier. Does that mean anything to you? Javier?”

“No,” Lance said, but then stuttered, “I—I—don’t know. I’d have to think. I’m rattled.”

“All right. You do that and tell Ellie what you come up with.”

“What are you doing, Jake?”

“I’m doing what I do best. Surviving, big brother. I’m just surviving.” Jake ended the call so he could return to the catacombs.

The call to Lance took another five minutes off the clock. Forty to go.

Jake went as quickly as he could, but not recklessly fast. The tunnels were full of obstacles that could cause serious injury from a full-speed impact. While any second could be Andy’s last, Jake also believed that Fausto would honor his own deadline. Why, exactly, he couldn’t say. It was a gut feeling. Fausto sounded sadistically playful in the conversations Jake had overheard, as if he would relish each minute as it ticked off the clock. The fear of death for him would be as intoxicating as any drug.

Yes, Fausto would wait the full hour, Jake felt certain of it. But, Jake reminded himself, it was no longer an hour.

He had figured on spending fifteen minutes navigating the tunnels. Ten to gather supplies. Twenty-five off the clock. The rest of his plan would take another ten minutes to execute. Thirty-five minutes total before he could engage. Jake had about a five-minute buffer, and the margin for error was wider than the Amazon. His other choice was to stand down, leave the school, get taken into custody, plead his case to Haggar, and then bury his son.

Wasn’t going to happen.

The beam from Jake’s headlamp bounced across the familiar walls, revealing all the places where he needed to duck, crawl, or slouch. Otherwise, he was running. He went under the Terry Science Center, the library, Gibson Hall, and the Society Building, where he had left a dead man splattered on the bathroom floor. Jake took the tunnel to the Groveland Gymnasium, and at last he returned to the section of tunnels that was home to his bug-out location.

For a few panicked seconds, Jake fumbled with the new key for the door lock on his bug-out location, cursing under his breath, and eventually got inside.

Jake turned on the lights and checked his stopwatch. The whole trip went faster than expected, leaving him an extra minute on his deadline. One minute added to his buffer. Aboveground they would be looking for him. There would be chatter on the Bearcat—
“Has anybody seen Dent? Anybody?”
Haggar would be nervous. He’d press Ellie to make Jake follow the order.

All this was happening, but none of it was of concern. If SWAT or the FBI made entry into the school, Jake would figure it out eventually. In the meantime, he’d be taking necessary action.

It didn’t take long for Jake to locate the items he had come to retrieve. The flares were stored in the larder, away from the gasoline. Nearby was a case of tactical smoke grenades, with smoke output of 25,000 cubic feet. More than enough. He grabbed a handful of Cyalume Chemlights, military-grade infrared light sticks. They were just like regular glow sticks—bend, snap, crack—but the light emitted was invisible to the naked eye. With the night vision goggles, though, a few of those sticks would provide more than enough illumination.

He had seven mags of ammo for the AK-47—one loaded, three on his chest rig, three on his battle belt. Jake decided to include a few additional mags of pistol ammo inside a small backpack, along with an extra flashlight and four pieces of the rebar he had scavenged from a construction site.

He grabbed his tactical helmet and attached the night vision optical to the J-bar. He adjusted his Kevlar, inspected his guns, and paused to check his gear in the full-length, wall-mounted mirror. His face and hands were still covered in camo paint, mixed with tunnel grime. The tactical helmet fit snugly on his head. The rest of him was geared up: chest rig, battle belt, ammo, flares, glow sticks, smoke grenades, knives, two pistols, a Glock, the Ruger, and his rifle.

He was ready for war.

CHAPTER 40

E
llie had just hung up with Jake when Haggar whistled to her from behind. She blanched when she saw him. She had shared sensitive tactical information with a possible threat. Although Jake had obtained the same intel on his own, Ellie’s actions were quite possibly criminal. Not that she regretted her choice. She believed Jake, and her goal was to convince Haggar of the same.

Haggar bounded down the trailer’s front steps with purposeful strides. “Who was that?” he asked.

“Jake,” Ellie said. She had no reason to lie, and Jake had every reason to call her.

“Is he leaving?” Haggar said. “We need him out of there, and that’s that.”

“I can’t tell you what he’s going to do,” Ellie said. That wasn’t a lie, either.

“No offense, but you two have a history, and I’m not comfortable with you talking to him without one of my agents present. Understood?”

“Understood.”

“That’s an order, Sergeant Banks.”

Haggar was a sharp-eyed leader
,
Ellie thought. “Yes, sir,” Ellie said.

“Look, I appreciate all your help here. We’re going to get out of this just fine. It’s going to take time, that’s all.”

“Sir, do you really believe this is terrorism?” Ellie asked.

“Who else uses dirty bombs?”

At first, Ellie wasn’t sure what to share, but she erred on the side of openness. “Jake thinks it’s about money. That’s what he said to me just now.”

“Yeah? Jake also thinks the world is coming to an end any day now. Maybe he thinks Bigfoot somehow got his hands on all that cobalt-60.”

Ellie strained to smile. “I know you’re putting extra surveillance on the Academy Building,” she said. “So you must not think he’s completely crazy.”

Haggar looked annoyed. “I take every opportunity I’m given and exploit it to my advantage,” he said. “So we’re looking at that building a little extra hard. Big deal. Doesn’t mean Jake’s on the Red Unit now. It means we have heat-detection equipment in place and it’ll help us validate his claim.”

“If you use every opportunity to your advantage, why not work with Jake? He’s on the inside. He can help.”

“He can get himself or those kids killed. That’s what I’m thinking.”

“What if he’s right?” Ellie asked. “What if there’s no bomb and we have less than an hour? We could lose the kids.”

“If that’s the case, I’m going to have a hard time sleeping at night for the rest of my life.”

“Then believe him,” Ellie said.

Haggar glanced at the trailer. For a moment, Ellie thought he was going to change his mind. “We’re working on making contact with the terrorists,” he said. “That’s the protocol and that’s the plan. I’m not about to enlist the help of a civilian under any circumstance.”

Ellie backed off. She had more that Haggar needed to know. “During our call, Jake mentioned somone named Javier,” she said. “He’s convinced this whole thing has to do with money.”

“Money?”

“That’s what he said. I mean, what terrorists do anything in the name of money?”

Haggar took a breath. He looked to the sky as if the answers would come from there. “Hell, this whole damn situation is a gigantic Charlie Foxtrot, if you ask me. Look, Ellie, if you’re hot on this Javier lead, then go figure out who he is and let me know what you learn.”

It was as much as Haggar would budge. Ellie raced her cruiser home to get Kibo before her fishing expedition began. Where she lived was en route to her destination. Hours ago, Ellie’s other two shepherds had gone to a neighbor’s, but Kibo stayed behind. He didn’t transition to new environments like the other dogs. Even though he wasn’t a trained police dog, Ellie still wanted to take him along for the ride. At that moment, she needed the comfort of his companionship. It would help to ease her unremitting worry for Jake.

Ellie arrived home a little after sunset. The clouds were gone, and a bright crescent moon shone down like a mischievous grin against a darkening sky. It didn’t take much light from town to block out the stars, but a few were twinkling off to the west. More would appear, once night settled in.

Off in the distance, SWAT helicopters, spotlights illuminated, circled over The Pep in a tight pattern. Her home was built on top of a high hill, which offered tremendous views of the valley. Far below, Ellie observed pockets of strobe light activity, patches of blue and red that appeared to burn the forest in a multicolored flame. Many of the deployed units, Ellie knew, had taken advantage of the encroaching darkness to keep well hidden. She also had a clear view of the campus buildings. Most of them still had their lights on.

From her cruiser, Ellie retrieved her binoculars and used them to pinpoint what she believed was the Academy Building, where Jake said the hostages were being held. She ignored the cold, even though the wind packed a chilly punch. Lowering the binoculars, Ellie kept her eyes locked on the Academy Building.

Her mind flooded with thoughts of the terrible things that could happen inside that school. The images went away, but the ache lingered. Ellie knew one thing for certain: Jake was Haggar’s best hope for avoiding a lifetime of sleepless nights.

Kibo sensed someone coming up the driveway and barked noisily from inside the house. Soon as Ellie opened the front door, Kibo, his tongue lolling to one side of his mouth, leapt up on hind legs and slammed his front paws against Ellie’s chest hard enough to knock her off balance. Then he gave her face a good licking.

“I missed you too, sweetie,” Ellie said, roughing up his fur.

Kibo followed Ellie outside and relieved himself on the grass. At the same time, Ellie opened the trunk of her cruiser. A war was going on in Winston, and while she was far from the action, she needed to prepare. From the trunk, Ellie removed her body armor—

POLICE emblazoned on the front pouch in bright yellow lettering—and got it fitted into place. Kibo looked wistfully at Ellie until she said, “Get in!”

Kibo barked once and got his nose under the door handle. When his head came up, the door latch disengaged. Kibo put a paw into the crack, which was enough to get the door open the rest of the way. He clambered into the front seat and sat upright and alert, like he was her partner.

Ellie gave Kibo his treat. Her dad had shown her how to train a dog to do that trick; and every time Kibo opened a door, she thought of her father.
“Failing to prepare is preparing to fail,”
her dad used to say.

She made the drive into town with her strobes flashing but siren off. The streets were quiet, and plenty of detours directed traffic away from the prep school. Five minutes later, Ellie arrived at the local high school, where she believed Lance Dent had set up a temporary headquarters.

The school parking lot was near capacity. Inside, it was noisy and chaotic. There wasn’t a better place to house all the boarding kids from The Pep. Displaced students roamed the halls with drained looks on their faces. The excitement of the evacuation had given way to uncertainty and fear.

Kibo didn’t seem to mind all the commotion. As long as he was with Ellie, everything was right in the world. He heeled as Ellie walked him through noisy corridors. Several students stopped to pet Kibo, and Ellie let them. She could see it gave them a few minutes of comfort. Kibo, as Ellie expected, relished every bit of attention lavished upon him.

Ellie eventually made it to the auditorium, which looked like postdisaster images she had seen on the Red Cross website. Students were splayed out on floor mats, or huddled in groups on the bleachers. Lost looks, exhausted expressions, and sagging shoulders were common. Trash barrels overflowed with food wrappers and plastic drink bottles.

Kibo didn’t like the noise, or the smell, because he kept close to Ellie’s side and whimpered occasionally. Several students came up to Ellie and asked what was going on. Other uniformed police officers were inside the school, and Ellie made sure the kids knew where to find them. Television reporters from various news outlets were present, but Ellie wasn’t granting any interviews.

The Internet spread rumors faster than facts, and most of the stories Ellie heard were gruesome and unsettling. Kids had been killed, one girl was certain. Another boy said that some of the hostages had been beheaded and there was a video online that was being blocked. Most of what they said to Ellie was inaccurate or unconfirmed. Ellie validated only what was being reported on the news: a woman had been shot and there was an active hostage situation at The Pep.

In one of the crowded hallways, Ellie found a teacher who directed her to the principal’s office on the first floor. Inside the anteroom, Ellie got nervous looks from a few parents waiting to speak to Lance. Maybe it was the uniform that scared people, or maybe it was the eighty-five-pound German shepherd.

Ellie poked her head into the principal’s office and saw Lance on the phone, seated behind a large desk. Lance saw her looking at him and held up a finger to ask her to wait. Ellie thought he was puffy and pale. She had busted guys after a five-day bender who looked better. From the doorway, Ellie could hear his half of the conversation clearly.

“I want to know the same, Mrs. Eichel,” Lance said into his cell phone. “And I promise we’re doing everything possible to locate Hilary. Where are you now?” A beat, and then he said, “You’re about an hour and a half away.” Another beat. “Yes, call if you need. Anytime.”

A woman in a blue suit, her hair going in more directions than a boy band, pushed her way into the office, holding a cell phone as if it were a Fabergé egg.

Into his phone, Lance said, “If you’ll please just give us time, I’m in touch with the Winston Police Department every few minutes, and I’m doing what I can to help locate all of your children.”

“It’s William Cranston, Troy’s dad,” the woman with the phone said in a whispered voice. “He’s demanding to speak with you.”

“Yes, yes, Judy,” Lance said. “Tell him I’ll be right with him.”

“He’ll be right with you,” Judy said into the phone. She pulled the phone from her ear, and Ellie could hear some angry talk.

Lance said, “Mrs. Eichel, I’m going to call you back. The police are here now.”

He had been so focused on Mrs. Eichel, Lance hadn’t recognized Ellie standing in his doorway. He had never met Kibo before. When Lance realized who it was, a smile came over his face. His look told her she wasn’t just a cop. She was an important person to his brother.

Lance stayed in his seat. Exhaustion held him down like an anchor. “Sorry, it’s crazy here, Ellie. I was going to call you. Have you heard from Jake?”

Ellie nodded.

“You know he’s in the school.”

Ellie nodded again. “We think he’s coming out.”

Lance didn’t seem to believe it.

“What can I do for you?” he asked. “I’m sorry to rush, but I need to keep in contact with the parents of the missing kids.”

Ellie had come to ask for Lance’s help in identifying Javier. Seeing how frazzled he was, she hesitated. She could manage on her own.

“I need to see a directory with the names of every student and I need the parents’ names and addresses as well. Faculty, too, even if they’re part-time.”

Lance wasn’t bothered by the request. “Sure,” he said. “I’ll have Judy get it for you right away. Our records are all online, so it’ll be easy to access.”

“Great,” Ellie said.

“Anything I can help with?”

“Nothing I can’t handle on my own,” Ellie said.