Hostage (35 page)

But even from here Todd could tell the door would be locked, for right above the knob was a keypad that obviously required a combination. With Lyle right behind him, Todd raced down the passage and pushed down on the handle. Nothing happened. He then threw himself against the door, which didn’t even budge.

“Damn it!”

Lyle pushed Todd aside, took hold of the handle, jammed it down, and hurled his large body against the plane of metal. Again the door didn’t even quiver. Great, thought Todd, now what?

“Shoot it!” demanded Todd.

Lyle looked at the thing for a moment, shrugged, then pulled out his gun and fired twice. The lock shattered under the blast and the door drifted open.

Heading in and leading the way, Todd said, “It’s straight down.”

“Right.”

It was a plain industrial stairwell—metal railing, concrete walls, fluorescent lighting, some emergency lights—and their footsteps reverberated up and down as they plunged lower. They took the steps two and three at a time, going down and around, past the first sublevel, then the second. Suddenly Todd felt a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Nice and quiet,” ordered Lyle, his voice hushed.

Todd slowed. Trying to recall the layout, he pictured in his mind a large space with Sheetrock walls, a few rooms, and the metal columns. As far as Todd knew, they were still battling for funding for the exhibit, and construction had yet to start.

Now in the deepest level of the Megamall, they approached the last door. Holding his gun upward, Lyle tried to discern what or who might be beyond, while Todd pressed himself against the concrete block wall and strained to hear something, anything. At first there was nothing. Then it came, that soft but firm rolling sound. Somewhere up above, the computer-run roller coaster had been started for the day. And, yes, Todd knew with the utmost certainty, this was the place, the sound on the videotape had emanated from here.

Lyle quietly inched open the door, stepped through, and Todd followed. The chamber beyond was faintly lit with a few long fluorescent lights. He remembered walking through while the proud tour guide explained how the lava exhibit would be here, the dinosaur fossils there, the underground sea over there. And the operations room in the far back. But now, instead of visions of grandeur, there were only blank walls.

Todd slipped into the lead, quietly moving along. Reaching a corner, he hesitated. Yes, he thought, they had to be somewhere back here. He pointed around the corner, and Lyle nodded. Todd was about to move on when he heard something, a shuffle of steps. He paused. Nothing. Then proceeded, rounding the corner and entering a large empty space perhaps thirty feet wide and a hundred feet long. His attention was immediately caught by a closed door on the far wall; at the bottom of the door a strip of light glowed softly.

Todd looked at Lyle and nodded.

Holding his gun high in both hands, Lyle moved swiftly yet carefully across the space. Todd hurried after him, silently crossing to the wall and pressing himself against it. Lyle slid over to the door, listened, then moved right in front of it, his gun held out and ready to fire. He glanced once at Todd, lifted his foot, and kicked in the door, which burst open under his force. Todd rushed after him, entering a small room littered with sleeping bags, boxes, and a small television.

“Shit!” snapped Lyle, finding it otherwise empty.

He quickly checked a side room and then the bathroom, which was rich with a foul odor and an odd mound of plastic.

“This was it,” said Todd, adding it all up. “They were here. Look, there’s the video camera.”

The air in here was too thick, too stuffy. They couldn’t have left that long ago, and Todd turned, dashed out. He glanced up and down the long room. Suddenly something started struggling at the far end, and the next instant a person lunged out of the shadows.

“Stay out of this, Todd!” screamed Rawlins.

A second person jumped out, jabbed a gun to the first man’s head, and dragged him away. Yet as horrible as the situation was, Todd was struck by a wave of relief, for this meant Rawlins wasn’t a willing participant.

“Rawlins!” he shouted, bursting into a run.

Todd charged through the long space, with Lyle speeding after him. A third and a fourth figure appeared and, yes, Todd could tell one of them was Congressman Johnny Clariton. A distant door opened and then all four of them slipped into the innermost parts of the Megamall and disappeared. Sprinting all the way, Todd reached the passage before Lyle.

“Wait!” ordered Lyle before Todd could rip open the door.

Todd resisted the temptation, waiting until Lyle rushed up, readied his gun, and slowly pulled back the door. The next chamber was filled with a mass of gray pipes, huge tubes running horizontally one on top of another through the low-ceilinged room. Exactly, recalled Todd, this was no boiler room. The tour guide had told him about this, bragging about the heart of the Megamall’s cooling system. Such a huge structure filled with so many lights and so many people generated massive amounts of heat, so much in fact that the main concern even here in Minnesota was cooling. In this frigid climate the heat was turned on only two or three weeks a year. The rest of the time it was all about cooling, and a massive underground system had been developed, with pipes that plunged several hundred feet down into the earth so that the heated water they carried would be cooled before returning to the air-conditioning system. This room, Todd knew, was only the tip of the system.

Something clanked straight ahead and to the right, and Todd followed Lyle into the next room, one slow step at a time. Peering ahead, Todd saw that in some fifty feet the pipes curved to the side. There had to be another way out, a far exit, and they continued along, Lyle clutching his gun in both hands and swinging it from side to side. Out of nowhere came an odd noise. What was it? Merely water churning through the pipes. Or footsteps? Then it came again, the sound of hushed movement. Todd stopped. Were they over there to the left?

Echoing up and down the chamber, a single drop fell on the concrete floor, followed by a second. Lyle turned around, put one finger to his lips, then nodded and motioned to Todd to follow. They continued another twenty feet, and the sound of the dripping water grew. Breaking that came the slow, barely audible vibrations of something being dragged. Reaching another gap in the pipes, Todd and Lyle hesitated. Something clicked—a door?—and Todd spun to the side.

Straight ahead two people suddenly lunged out, a skinny man pressing something against the second one’s neck.

“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!” he shouted, his voice nervous and quick. “I’ve got a syringe full of HIV-infected blood, man, and if you come any closer I’ll inject him with it! And… and this is Johnny Clariton, the congressman! I’ll pump him full of AIDS, I will!”

“Elliot, please…” begged Clariton, not even daring to flinch.

His spine rigid with fear, Todd stood perfectly still, and he forced his voice to sound calm and even. “Hi, we just want to talk. My name’s Todd and—”

“I know perfectly well who you are, you TV turkey!” said the skinny one. “I know all about you! Now, go away! Be a good faggot and let us finish our business!”

“But maybe we can—”

“Oh, just shut up! I mean it, either of you comes any closer and I’m gonna give Mr. Gay Public Enemy Number One a full dose of the Supreme Cootie! Courtesy, I might add, of your handsome dying lover!” he said, tapping the syringe with a naughty giggle.

Horrified, Todd couldn’t move, didn’t know what to say, let alone do.

“I mean, man,” chattered Elliot, “my arms and my legs are so skinny. They’re just toothpicks, not much left of ’em at all, and my veins are in shit shape, so… so we borrowed some blood from the nice cop!”

A voice cracked not fifteen feet behind Todd, coolly pronouncing, “You guys do anything fancy and this one gets it too!”

Todd whipped around to see Matthew, the bald-headed leader, pressing a gun to Rawlins’s right temple. Oh, Jesus. Now what?

Looking up, Rawlins pleaded to be understood. “Todd, they took it from me—my blood! They forced me to—”

“Rawlins—” began Todd, taking a half step forward.

“Stop, Todd!” screamed Matthew, his face bursting red. “I mean it, I’ll blast his brains out, and Elliot will shoot Clariton full of AIDS!”

Todd was perfectly still.

“You and your friend there get down on the floor!” commanded Matthew. “Now! And you, Muscles, put the gun down and slide it over here!”

Todd looked over at Lyle, saw him hesitate, then watched as he placed the gun on the floor and gave it a shove with his foot. Of course they had no choice, and Todd began bending over.

Matthew scooped up Lyle’s gun and barked, “You know what to do, assholes. You’ve done this for me before, so get down and put your hands behind your fucking heads—now!”

“You tell ’em!” cackled Elliot from the other side.

Todd went first, placing his knees on the floor, then leaning forward and pressing his hands onto the cold concrete. Lyle stretched out to his right, and then both of them clasped their hands behind their heads. Todd glanced over, saw Matthew shoving Rawlins toward them.

“Okay, now you get down too, Rawlins!” ordered Matthew. “Get down on the floor next to your boyfriend!”

In a tiny voice Clariton said, “Please, just leave me here too.”

“Oh, shush, you ninny!” Elliot chided.

As Todd caught a glimpse of Rawlins slowly lowering himself, he started trembling inside. Dear God, how crazy was Matthew? Just what was he going to do to them?

Todd closed his eyes, slipped his leg over, and tapped Rawlins on the ankle. Rawlins nudged back. The next moment Matthew was leaning over Rawlins, strapping first his hands behind his back and then his feet with flex-cuffs. He then stepped over Todd and cuffed Lyle as well.

“As for you, my friend, Mr. Todd,” laughed Matthew, kicking Todd on the foot, “this time you’re the one coming along for the ride.”

“What?” shouted Rawlins, twisting on his side. “No, Matthew, leave him out of this! Just—”

“Shut up and stay down!” shouted Matthew. “Sorry to dump you, Rawlins, but Elliot and I are going to need all the exposure we can get.”

“Absolutely,
dahlink!
”

“And Todd’s a lot more well known than you!” continued Matthew. “Now, get up, Todd!”

His voice low as he lay on the floor, Lyle advised, “Do as they say, Todd.”

“You’re fucking right!” snapped Matthew.

As Todd slowly pushed himself up, he glanced at Lyle and saw his hands twisting against the flex-cuffs. Just how strong was he?

As soon as Todd was standing, Matthew jabbed his gun into Todd’s back and said, “Now, just be a good boy and do like I say, or it’s going to be lights out. Am I clear?”

Todd nodded and glanced down the hall at Elliot, who was clutching Clariton, almost leaning on him for support, as he kept the tip of the needle all but pressed into the congressman’s neck. One false move by either one of them and Clariton could be on that long, dark road.

“You’re crazy, Matthew!” yelled Rawlins, trying unsuccessfully to wrench himself free. “Don’t you see that you’re doing more harm than good for AIDS? Every straight person in the world is going to hate gays after this!”

“I’m just determined, that’s all!”

“Oh, wow,” muttered Elliot. “This is so great—now we’ve got two famous people!”

Matthew nudged Todd with the gun. “Okay, just go over there toward Elliot. We’re going to go out another way. Got it?”

Todd nodded.

“And remember, no fancy stuff.”

“Todd…” called Rawlins.

“I’ll be okay,” he promised.

Matthew echoed, “I’m telling you, just stay here or Todd gets it!”

Elliot and Clariton went first, Todd and Matthew second. Continuing through the cooling room, they reached a far door and entered a second stairwell, a tall, impersonal space with concrete block walls and stark lighting.

“We’re going all the way up,” explained Matthew.

Elliot shoved Clariton along and said, “Say, what do you think of the homosexual agenda now, Mr. Johnny Congressman?”

His voice deep and low and full of hate, Clariton glanced back at Todd. “Pigs! That’s what these people are—pigs!”

Elliot laughed. “Careful what you say, Johnny. All I got to do is prick you with this teensy-weensy little needle and you got big problems!”

Clariton’s face bloomed red, and in a calm but very strained voice he said, “Just let me go. I’ll help you, I promise I will.”

“Oh, really?” replied Elliot, doing his best to sound earnest.

“Yes, I’ll get you all the latest drugs, everything you need!”

“Wow, so now you’re no longer the wicked congressman, but Glinda, Good Witch of the West?”

“I swear I’ll get you into the best hospital and get you the best doctors!”

“Don’t listen to him!” snapped Matthew.

“Girlfriend,” said Elliot to Matthew with a laugh, “you think I’d start believing a politician
now?
” Changing thoughts and changing tone, he said, “Hey, Todd, I made a video too. My whole story’s back there on tape, back in that room. Remember that, okay? And make sure it gets on the air, okay? Promise me that, please?”