Earthway (40 page)

“The plant
must
be the target,” Big Ed said. “All the evidence
points to that. Let’s take a look at the schematics again,” he added, calling them up on his computer.

“The only vulnerable area is the parking lot, and that’s fifty yards outside the complex,” Justine said.

“Even if they had a bomb large enough to take out all the vehicles there, that still wouldn’t get them inside,” Big Ed noted.

“And taking out the cars wouldn’t make any difference anyway,
not to plant operations. Wait a minute,” Ella said slowly. “That’s it. All this time we’ve been working under the assumption that their target is the facility, or its equipment. But the easiest way to stop the plant from opening is to target the workers themselves.”

“Yeah, but they won’t be at the plant for several more days, and, more importantly, they’d never all be there at the same time,”
Justine argued.

“Prior to the installation of the reactor vessel, what’s on the agenda for the workers?” Ella asked Justine quickly.

“I have no idea. Let me go back and check,” Justine said.

“Good thinking, Shorty,” Big Ed said as Justine left.
“This is the first plant of its kind in the country. Without trained personnel, the tribe will be stuck for months with nothing more than a billion-dollar
monument.”

“That’ll make the StarTalk fiasco seem like kid’s stuff, and put the tribe in deep financial trouble,” Ella said. “If that’s Whitefeather’s plan, he’s been two steps ahead of us all along. He even misdirected his own people.”

Justine hurried back inside the office moments later. “The entire staff is meeting today and tomorrow at the community college auditorium. They’ve been receiving
extensive training for the past six months so they can operate our country’s first pebble bed reactor. This is their final orientation before taking charge of the facility. The first session begins in . . . fifteen minutes,” she said, looking at her watch.

“Without them, the plant won’t be able to open.
They’re
the target,” Ella said.

“If you’re right, then it’s the perfect inside job. He’s
got the help of his future brother-in-law—a man with keys and unlimited access to the community college’s buildings,” Big Ed said. “Get over there, Shorty. I’ll make sure you have as much backup as you need.”

Ella contacted Vera Hunt, the head of campus security, as she ran out to the tribal cruiser with Justine. Updating Vera as quickly as possible, Ella added, “I’m sending you a copy of Whitefeather’s
photo ID, but be aware that if he’s on campus he may be in his deputy’s uniform or wearing a disguise. He’s been known to use a mustache and a beard. Since that would call even more attention to him during the day, I’m guessing he’ll opt for a hat or cap of some sort, and sunglasses.”

“Okay, I’ll get my people out looking for him.”

“It’s likely their plan will make use of an explosion and/or
fire,” Ella added. “The heating and electrical units are vulnerable, especially to Chester Tso. Working maintenance, he has every key he needs. Where exactly are the heating and cooling units in the auditorium building?”

“The basement,” Vera answered in a flash, “in the rear, north end. Should I evacuate the campus, or at least the auditorium?”

“If we start evacuating, we could force them to
act right now with whatever they have. Worst-case scenario, they might have an alternate target that we know nothing about. Let’s stay low key for now. That’s the only way to guarantee we won’t start a panic and warn off Whitefeather and the others.”

Ella thanked Vera, then glanced at Justine. “You and I need to check out the auditorium. I’ll take the basement while you watch the front and ground
floor. Make sure the exits remain open. If the plant employees really are the target, one possible strategy would be to block the exits to maximize the body count.”

Less than five minutes later, they arrived at the rear of the building and parked in a red-zoned space near the loading dock. After finding the rear door locked, they walked along the side, and stopped at the corner of the building.
Glancing ahead, Ella saw a twin-door entrance at the front. Both doors were wide open. Someone was standing there beside a heavy-looking canvas book bag. Ella recognized Mona Tso and saw her slipping a big chain through one of the door handles.

“Mona’s chaining the doors,” Ella told Justine.

“We need to take her out without tipping off the others,” Justine whispered.

“She’d recognize me, but
not you,” Ella said, thinking fast. “Can you get the drop on her?”

“Sure thing.”

Justine brought out her cell phone, held it up to her ear, then turned the corner, looking away, toward the street, instead of at Mona.

Ella watched as Justine approached Mona, phone still at her ear, and smiled. “Hi, need some help with that door?”

Mona stared at Justine in surprise for a moment, then dropped
the chain, and reached into her jacket pocket.

Justine lunged forward, punching Mona in the throat.

Mona gagged, throwing her arms up in vain, then sagged to her knees, grasping her throat in agony. Ella was there in a flash, grabbing Mona’s hand in a painful pinch-hold and yanking her off the steps.

“You!” Mona gasped, her eyes bulging and wet with pain.

“Check her pockets!” Ella ordered.

Justine reached into Mona’s jacket and brought out a Taser.

“Police brutality! I’ll have your badge,” Mona croaked at Ella.

Ella increased the pressure on Mona’s hand, forcing her to her knees again. “Check the lobby, Justine.”

Justine looked inside, then stepped back. “She must have Tasered the guard. I can see him on the floor just down the hall to the left. The auditorium doors are shut but
not blocked. Nobody else is around, but I smell gas.”

“Where are Chester and Henderson?” Ella demanded, still applying the pinch hold.

“I have no idea,” Mona said, her face contorted in pain.

“Cuff her,” Ella said, maintaining the pinch hold while Justine worked. “Chain
her
to the door, then get everyone out as quietly as you can. Tell them there’s a small gas leak and order them to stay off
their cell phones until they’re well outside. While you’re at it, prop open every door you can. Just don’t flip any light switches. One spark might set off an explosion. I’m going down the hall, then taking the stairs to the basement.”

Mona suddenly jerked free of Justine, kicking out. Justine took a blow to the shin, but shook it off, punching Mona in the gut and doubling her over. Ella helped
with the chain, and within ten seconds, Mona was held fast. Justine, thinking
quickly, stuck her scarf in Mona’s mouth, effectively gagging her.

Not wasting any time, Ella ran down the hall and checked the guard. He was unconscious, but alive. Noting that his handgun was missing, Ella touched the butt of her own pistol, wondering if a gunshot would set off the gas in the basement.

Ella reached
for her baton, then, finding the door labeled “basement,” opened it slowly and peered inside. The gas smell was much stronger here.

Ella heard footsteps from the bottom landing and stepped back, suspecting they’d placed another lookout below. Continuing quickly down the hall, she reached another door also labeled “basement.” She went in slowly and sneaked a look down the stairwell. Nobody was
in sight, and the air was fresher here.

Ella went down two flights, then stopped at the bottom step and listened, breathing through a handful of tissues now. The basement itself was a maze of pale green concrete walls, overhead pipes, and utility lines. Directly in front of her was a long hallway with doors on each side.

Ella crept down the corridor, making sure her boots didn’t clack against
the concrete floor. At the hall junction, she looked to her left and saw an open storage area filled with carts, folding chairs, and tables.

Ella moved to her right, aware that she was circling around toward the rear of the building where the heating and cooling systems lay. Using the intensity of the odor to guide her, she walked quietly toward the source of the gas.

Ahead was another junction
in the hall system, and as she approached, she heard a muffled curse and the sound of metal against metal. Moving carefully, Ella homed in on the sound. As she turned the second corner, she saw a man in a gas mask loosening a pipe from a big heating unit. He had his back to her, but from his size and build she knew it was Chester.

Before she could make her move, Ella saw a sudden flash of fabric
ahead. Moving a few steps forward, she spotted Whitefeather, in dress slacks, white shirt, and tie, at the bottom of the other stairway. He was the one she’d heard earlier, standing guard.

As Chester struggled with the hissing pipe, using a wrench with plastic jaws to avoid a spark, Ella crept up behind him. He turned just as she brought the baton crashing down on his skull.

As he sagged to
the floor, Ella reached out and grabbed the wrench from his unfeeling hands. Moving quickly, she reattached the pipe, then located the shut-off valve. Once she’d turned off the gas, the hissing sound dropped in intensity. That leak was plugged, but more gas was still flowing into the basement from elsewhere.

Ella handcuffed Chester, then dragged his inert body into a utility closet about ten
feet away. Working quickly, she removed his gas mask and slipped it over her own head. She was straightening the face mask when a sixth sense warned her of danger.

Ella turned quickly and saw Whitefeather standing less than five feet away, mask over his face, gun pointed straight at her.

“You shoot, and we’re both dead. One spark will set off the gas,” she warned. As Ella called his attention
to another hissing pipe, she spotted a timer, lantern battery, and electrical detonator taped to the wall above it. The detonator would be more than enough to set off the gas.

When Whitefeather hesitated, Ella realized that he wasn’t a fanatic after all. The man wanted others to die for his cause, but he hadn’t planned on including himself in the body count.

Whitefeather jammed his pistol into
his belt and raised his fists, and Ella leaped to one side, reaching for the power switches on the main electrical panel. Whitefeather blocked her path, but Ella caught him in the chin with the tip of her
right boot. He fell back, the mask knocked halfway off his face, and blood gushing from his mouth.

Ella dove for the panel and pulled the big-handled switches, turning off all power to the building.
Almost instantaneously, pale emergency battery-powered lights came on along the top of the wall. Whitefeather kicked out, keeping her at bay while he struggled to place the gas mask back over his torn lips.

Ella knew she’d have to disable the bomb. The gas was building up quickly. She caught Whitefeather as he lunged at her, kicking his knee. As he fell, she ripped the device from the wall, yanked
the wires off the terminals, and threw the battery as far as she could down the hall.

By the time she looked back at Whitefeather, he had a knife in his hand. Ella tossed the detonator and timer into a trash can in the utility closet and turned to face him. He’d have to get past her now to retrieve the detonator.

Limping badly from his damaged knee, he forced her back, swinging the blade in
low arcs directed at her belly. He jabbed at her chest next, but Ella grabbed his arm, and using his own momentum, propelled his hand and knife into the concrete wall. She heard a crack, and knew it was either the knife or his wrist.

Ella grabbed Whitefeather’s mask and slammed his head forward into the wall. The mask’s cartridge filter broke away, and he began coughing.

“You can’t set off the
gas without killing yourself. Give it up. It’s over,” she yelled.

Whitefeather didn’t waste time. He pulled out his pistol, waving it in her direction and stumbled away, dragging his damaged leg behind him.

Ella wanted to follow, but first she had to cut off the gas. After finding the wrench and closing the last valve, she took out her baton and followed Whitefeather’s blood trail. He was heading
for the rear basement exit.

He was halfway up the flight of stairs when she came around the corner. As he half-turned, pistol out, she threw the baton at his ankles.

Whitefeather tripped, his weakened knee betraying him now. Grasping in vain for the handrail, he tumbled down the steps and hit the floor head first, coming to rest at her feet. Ella knew from the angle of his neck that he wouldn’t
be getting back up again. He’d lost the fight.

Ella hurried back to where she’d left Chester, dragged him up the stairs one step at a time, then outside to the parking level.

Justine raced up seconds later, Vera right behind her. “Guess you don’t need our help anymore, huh?” Justine asked, panting.

“You might want to prop open the door,” Ella said, removing her mask, and gasping from the exertion
now that the adrenaline was wearing off.

“The fire department is on its way,” Vera said, grabbing Chester.

“Where’s Whitefeather?” Justine asked quickly, opening the basement door.

“At the foot of the stairs,” Ella said, shaking her head. “Once the building’s aired out, we can go back in and recover the body.” Ella took several deep breaths of fresh air. Her job, for now, was done.