Disruption (30 page)

A second later Rob, Duncan, and Alexis were beside me again.

“We had it all worked out, you know,” Rob said. “You would have come in second. Second still advances, Matt. That was the plan all along. But, no, you had to listen to your team.”

“What are you guys talking about?” My head pounded like someone was taking a hammer to it, and something warm ran down the back of my neck. I licked my lips and tasted blood.

The area behind the tarp was quite wide, and a section of the platform wall had been demolished, exposing a series of metal pipes. There were a number of gaps in the sections of tarp covering the scaffolding, so I could see out onto the platform. My tube was in the hands of a boy who couldn’t have been more than seven years old, and he was using it as a sword to torment a girl who was either his sister or his babysitter.

I looked at my watch. 2:37. I had eight minutes.

“What a total rookie.” I recognized the voice easily. Chase ducked under the tarps and strolled up behind Alexis, holding a half-eaten cinnamon pretzel in his hand. “How in the heck did you become a Delta?”

I
am
a Delta, I remembered, and being a Delta meant I could cut any team member, at any time, for any reason, and they’d be out of the program. I pointed at Alexis, Duncan, and Rob. “You three are cut from the program effective now.” I straightened and tried to push back up to my feet, but Alexis lunged out and kicked me in the stomach, and I slumped back against the metal frame of the scaffolding.

“Y-you’re cut!” I said, coughing. “You know the rules. You’re out of the program. Leave. Now!”

Rob and Alexis chuckled and shook their heads while Duncan gave me a
you can’t be serious
look.

Chase laughed. “What an idiot. How can you still not know what’s going on?” He glanced around at the others, then down at his watch. “I mean, sure we didn’t really try to
beat
you during the Capture the Flag competition. But that was part of a bigger plan. You were given more credit than you deserved, that’s for sure.” He shook his head. “Clearly our source is an idiot.” He waved his hand as though he were swatting at a fly. “But these three . . .” He laughed again. “They were just for fun. Just to see if you’d fall for it. It was so easy I actually thought you might have been playing along with a plan of your own. But, no. You were just that stupid.”

I didn’t know what he was talking about, and my expression must’ve shown how confused I was, because he leaned over and spoke clearly. “These three are on my team, you stupid weakling. You can’t cut them.”

They weren’t on my team? How did I not know that? Chase was right: I was an idiot.

Chase slipped the bag off his shoulder and tossed it to Alexis. “Set it up. And take care of Becca. I don’t know what she’s doing in there,” he nodded at the girls’ restroom, “but I don’t want her messing up our plans.”

She nodded, clutched the bag against her chest, and then she, Rob, and Duncan slipped through the tarps and jogged down the platform.

I cleared my throat and pushed myself to my knees. I wanted payback. Where was the rest of my team? Yaakov had to have seen what was happening on the cameras. I looked up at the ceiling and spotted a camera, but it was pointed at the platform.

“Looks good, doesn’t it?” Chase said. He had a section of the tarp pulled back, clearing a view of the platform.

I used one of the bars of scaffolding, pulled myself up, and looked out onto the platform just as Alexis took a yellow OUT OF ORDER pylon out of her bag and put it in front of the girls’ bathroom door. There were dozens of passengers lined up on the platform now, and I considered shouting out to them for help. If I did that, though, I might stop Chase, but I sure wouldn’t impress the CIA. They didn’t want babies. No, if I was going to make this last event count, I had to do it on my own.

“Looks like the real thing, don’t you think?”

I forced a laugh. “If you think disturbing people’s ability to use the toilet is going to get you a win, you’re dreaming.”

Chase just shook his head at me. “Oh, that pylon will do more than that.”

I took another look at the pylon just as Alexis slapped an OUT OF ORDER sign on the door and went inside; a couple seconds later, Duncan and Rob did too. I wondered if Becca was even still in there. For her sake, I hoped not.

“What do you think?” Chase asked. “Is Becca gonna fight her way out?”

I didn’t speak. If she was in there, it would be three against one, and Becca was injured. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out she didn’t have much of a chance.

“What’s in that pylon?” I asked.

He opened his mouth to speak and then nodded back through the tarp
.
“And they’re out. Guess Becca wasn’t as tough as I thought she was.”

The trio jogged back to the scaffolding.

“When that thing goes off,” Chase said, “just imagine the
disruption
it will cause.”

“What do you mean, when it goes off?” I glanced back at the pylon and then at my fellow campers. “Are you saying that’s a . . . is that a bomb?”

Chase shook his head. “Pathetic.”

I peeked through the slits in the tarps. The young boy who’d picked up my cylinder was still there, but he was now in a tug-of-war with the girl he’d been taunting. She pulled and twisted while the boy held tight to his end and pulled and twisted as well. Then, with a mighty heave, the boy and the girl stumbled to the ground, each clutching a segment.

“One minute and twenty-seven seconds,” I said, reminding myself how much time I had before the segments went off. It would be early. Earlier than the rest of the team, but hopefully not by much. The boy stood up and angrily kicked one of the segments down the platform and then started screaming at the girl for wrecking his toy.

“What?” Chase asked. When I didn’t answer, he turned to the others. “What did he say?”

“He said ‘one minute and twenty-seven seconds,’” Duncan answered.

Chase scowled at me for a beat and then grabbed my wrist and slammed it against one of the bars of scaffolding. I’m not sure where the plastic zip-tie came from, but it was around my wrist in a flash, and I was secured to the metal bar.

I jerked my arm back, and the plastic band bit into my wrist. “Hey!”

Chase spun me around so that I was facing the wall and then zip-tied my other wrist so both hands were now behind my back. I was about to swear, when he shoved something soft into my mouth. Alexis handed him a piece of duct tape, and he pressed it over my lips. “Quiet now,” he said. “Wouldn’t want you warning anyone.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small device, about the size of a pack of gum. “Tell you what I’ll do: I’ll give you your minute and twenty-seven seconds. Because that’s about how long it will take me to get out of the building, but then I’m going to push this button.” He held up the device, which had a small, round black button in the center. “That ought to give you a chance.” He laughed and then strolled away like he didn’t have a care in the world. As if he didn’t have a detonator in his pocket and he wasn’t a couple minutes away from setting off a bomb on a train platform.

A burst of wind signaled that another train was coming into the station, and a few seconds later, it arrived with a squeal and a gasp of air before the doors opened and people started streaming in and out. Rob, Alexis, and Duncan turned and jogged over. I tried to call after them to reason with them, but it’s incredibly tough to be heard when your mouth is duct taped and you’re worried about choking on a sock. Sheesh, I hoped it wasn’t something worse than a sock.

That’s when Amara’s Roman grenade gave its first pop
.

Chapter 45

There was a couple-second delay from the first pop
to the second. But then it was like someone had opened fire with a machine gun. Screams and explosions happened farther down the platform too. Somehow, one of the segments must’ve made it down there.

Passengers screamed and ran for cover. I thrashed against the bars of the scaffolding, pulling and twisting like a maniac. Something sliced into my palm, and I glanced back. The very tip of a screw jutted out from the scaffolding bar like a thorn. I rotated my body and slid the plastic zip-tie over the barb, sawing back and forth. Over and over. More than once I slipped and cursed as the screw jabbed into my hand or wrist. Finally, the tie snapped, and I spun around and sawed my other wrist against the same spot. It was a lot easier when I was facing the right way, and in a couple seconds, the tie snapped.

I jumped through the scaffolding and onto the platform and was immediately knocked back by a woman screaming and running for the exit. The train was still on the tracks too, which was good since it meant no one was getting run over, but bad because the last car had filled with dozens of people ducking for cover, and they were pretty much lined up with Chase’s pylon bomb.

Amara hadn’t been kidding that his invention was a lot better than a typical Roman candle. It was a steady stream of tiny missiles. Some of them screeched, and others ricocheted off walls or the ceiling—or people—and each left a trail of smoke in its wake. I was hit at least half a dozen times before I managed to stand up again.

I considered heading for the exit. I even took one step in that direction, but I just couldn’t bring myself to leave. Becca was not going to survive in the bathroom if that bomb went off, and while the train car might protect some of the people from the sting of the Roman grenade blasts, I had my doubts it would help against Chase’s bomb.

I had to do something. Now.

“Move!” I shouted as I rushed down the length of the train. The smoke from the thousands of blasts made it tough to see, and I kept slamming into people or tripping over those who had already stumbled. I imagined the rest of my team were probably well into their disturbances on their platforms, and I bet Chase was sauntering out the main exit as everyone else stampeded around him. He probably had his finger on his button at that very moment. The thought almost stopped me in my tracks, but somehow I forced myself forward.

I hit the wall at the end and snatched up the OUT OF ORDER pylon from in front of the restroom. I sprinted the dozen steps to the edge of the platform and heaved the pylon down the tracks as far as I could. I thought it might explode when it hit the ground, but it didn’t. It just bounced against the tracks and settled a good fifteen yards down the line.

I went to the last train car and yelled, “There’s a bomb, get out of the station!”

I don’t think anyone in there really saw me because the smoke was so bad by then, but they sure heard me. They screamed and poured out of the train shouting things like, “There’s a bomb!” and “We’re under attack!” as well as curses and cries for help.

I rushed over to the girls’ bathroom and shoved the door open.

“Becca!”

I followed the groans to one of the stalls and opened the door. Becca was on the ground, bleeding from her nose and mouth. They’d really done a number on her. I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to a sitting position.

“C’mon,” I said, “get up.” I tried to pull her up, but she just slumped back, her eyes fluttering. I opened the toilet and reached into the bowl and scooped out water—I hoped it was just water—and threw it in her face. I only had to do it twice before she sputtered and started coming around.

“Get up!” I said again, pulling her arm. “The whole place is going to blow up any second.”

That seemed to get her attention a bit more. She made it to her feet, and I threw one of her arms over my shoulder, and together we scrambled to the door.

The colored blasts from the Roman grenades pelted us as we headed down the platform. Every step gave me hope that we might make it out, and each step seemed to bring Becca back more and more until we were almost jogging. I shouted at others to run, to get outside, and half a dozen times, Becca and I both had to stop to heave a few cowering or injured travelers to their feet and get them moving again.

At first, I was a bit surprised that Becca cared enough to stop to help, but then I realized she probably needed my help to get out, and if I was stopping, she didn’t have much of a choice. Plus, there was a very real possibility she was just a regular CIA operative, and not necessarily a psychotic one. Chase and his group—now, they were a different story.

It was a small bomb, I told myself. The pylon wasn’t that heavy, and it wasn’t that big. It couldn’t do a ton of damage. Plus, I’d thrown it far enough down the tracks. We clambered up the steps to the second level. It couldn’t cause that much—

BOOM!

Chapter 46

I only knew I’d been unconscious because I didn’t remember falling down, and yet there I was, face down on the tiled floor. I couldn’t have been out long. Amara’s fireworks were still sputtering, though not nearly to the extent they had been. The main lights were out, no doubt disabled by Chase’s bomb, and the emergency lighting cast an eerie glow through the smoke. As I pushed myself to my knees, I realized there weren’t any screams anymore. The occasional figure dashed past me, but I’d been out long enough that most of the people had made it out. Becca was gone too. She’d just left me there.

I used the wall to pull myself to my feet and nearly toppled again when a sharp pain exploded at the back of my head. I reached back. My hair felt sticky. I followed the wall to find my way through the haze to the stairs, up to the next level, and out the exit.

The sunlight felt like a fresh blow of a hammer to my skull, and I slumped against one of the outside walls. There were people everywhere. Hundreds of them, most covered in thick dust like me, some limping or pressing cloths against bloody injuries. I expected to see droves of emergency vehicles: police, fire, ambulances. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see some kind of military presence, even. But although I could hear sirens in the distance, there was only a single fire truck on the scene.

I took a moment to catch my breath. I had to get as far away from the station as possible.