“Who needs an elevator?” Gunny said with false bravado. He had no idea how he was going to get them down safely, but Junior and Delia were counting on him.
He peered down into the shaft. The metal sleeve had been installed and the sides were sleek. Nothing to grip there. He glanced around and spotted a coil of rope. He wasn’t sure how strong it was, but it would have to do.
He raced over to the rope and wrapped an end around one of the exposed beams, tying several strong knots. He yanked hard. The knots would hold even if the rope didn’t. It was a start.
He uncoiled the line as he raced back over to the shaft, then dropped it down. It didn’t reach all the way, but it would get them close enough to the ground.
Junior sat at the edge of the shaft, about to go down the rope when Gunny stopped him. “Let me test it first.”
There were voices now on the stairs. The gangsters were heading their way.
“No time!” Junior disappeared down into the shaft.
The sudden weight made the rope go taut, but it held. Gunny guided the rope to keep Junior from smacking into the metal sleeve of the shaft. Junior quickly made it down.
“Climb on,” Gunny told Delia. He knelt down so she could wrap her arms around his neck and hang on his back.
He gripped the rope and slid over the side, just as the first of the gangsters reached their floor. He hoped the gangsters didn’t spot the rope, but with all the materials strewn about, he thought they might not notice. At least, not right away.
Gunny clutched the rope and planted his feet against the shaft walls, trying to take some of his weight off the line. Delia gripped his neck so tightly he was afraid she’d strangle him, but he didn’t want her to slip. Even so, her body dangled and swung as he moved down the shaft, keeping him off balance.
Then he felt his load lighten.
His heart caught and his head whipped around to look for the girl.
Panic turned to relief as he saw that Junior had reached up and grabbed her, and they’d made it safely down to the ground. Now they just had to make it out of the building.
Gunny ran over to where they had hidden Jed. “You okay?” he whispered.
Jed looked pale, but he nodded. Gunny worried that perhaps more than his ankle had broken.
“We have to get you to a hospital,” Gunny said. With Junior’s help he should be able to carry Jed out of the site and into a taxi.
“Where’s Junior?” Delia whispered.
Gunny turned and peered into the dark space. She was right. Junior was gone.
He’d gone in pursuit of Ambrose.
“Delia, you go for the police. I’ll stay here and make sure Junior and Jed are okay.”
Delia looked uncertain.
“It’s the most important job of all,” Gunny told her. “Hurry! Get them here as quick as you can.”
Delia gave a sharp nod and ran out of the construction site.
“One child safe, one more to go,” Gunny muttered.
He dashed back up the stairs and stumbled to a stop. Junior had pulled Ambrose onto one of the beams jutting out beyond the edge of the building. There was nothing but the night sky behind them. Junior held the gun to Ambrose’s head. Which explained why the two thugs stood backed up against a wall.
“Junior,” Gunny said evenly. “Think about what you’re doing.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing!” Junior raged. “I’m getting a confession out of this good-for-nothing.”
Ambrose licked his lips. Fear obviously made his mouth dry. “Calm down, sonny boy—”
“Don’t call me that,” Junior snapped.
“All right, all right.”
“Confess!” Junior insisted.
“Yes! I did it. I killed your father.”
“But why?” Junior moaned.
“To send a message to Marvin, who was in much deeper.”
Junior’s face quivered. Gunny couldn’t tell if the boy was about to weep or explode. Probably a little of both.
“You killed my father!” Junior said, his words a stream of barely contained rage. “You terrified my mother and my sister. You were probably planning to kill Delia and me! You have to die.”
Junior cocked the gun.
“Wait!” Gunny shouted. He wanted to talk Junior out of this, but he knew the moment Junior faltered, the gangsters would shoot. How to get them out of this alive?
“Send your goons away,” Gunny told Ambrose. “Then we can all have a talk.”
“We’re not leaving the boss—”
“Go,” Ambrose ordered. “Don’t want to make the boy more nervous…”
Reluctantly the gangsters began to move. “You stay where I can see you,” Gunny told them. “Or I’ll tell Junior to shoot Ambrose myself. Head downstairs. In plain sight. Shouldn’t be too hard with all that open space and no floor.”
Gunny waited until the goons had placed themselves where he’d asked. He knew they weren’t out of the woods yet—with all the open areas, they could easily still shoot, but at least they would have a tougher time hitting Junior.
“So, we good?” Ambrose asked nervously. “You gonna let me go back over to that nice floor over there where there’s a wall?”
“Shut up!” Junior shouted. ”“You’re never going anywhere again!”
“Junior, listen to me,” Gunny said calmly, taking tiny steps along the beam toward Junior. “Your dad didn’t want you hanging around with Ambrose because it was a mistake he made himself. It was because of Ambrose that your father got himself into trouble.”
“Another reason to kill him!” Junior said.
“No!” Gunny inched forward. He stepped onto the girder. Don’t look down, he told himself. He couldn’t help it. The gangsters on the floor below peered up, shocked expressions on their faces.
Gunny wrested his eyes from the floor below and forced himself to sound calm, as if balancing on a twelve-inch beam stories above the street were something he did every day. “Don’t let Ambrose force you into making bad choices. Don’t let Ambrose turn you into someone like him. Someone who settles scores and kills without thinking.”
Another step closer. Another step. Another.
“Let the cops handle this,” Gunny continued. “We all heard the confession. It’s over for Ambrose. Your life is just starting—don’t let Ambrose steal it from you.”
He was only an arm’s length from Junior and Ambrose now.
“Be the man your father knew you could be.”
Junior wavered. His arm slowly lowered. He looked down at the gun in his hand. He looked up at Gunny.
Then he handed Gunny the gun.
The moment he did, there was a movement below. The gangsters were pulling out their weapons!
Gunny crouched on the beam, gripped an edge for balance, and took aim.
But he couldn’t pull the trigger. The same as when he’d been in the army. He just couldn’t shoot!
With frustrated fury he hurled the gun as hard as he could into the stack of aluminum pipes stored beside the gangsters. The impact knocked the lightweight pipes out of their stack. They spilled out all over the floor, knocking over the gangsters.
Sirens suddenly wailed. Ambrose’s head whipped around at the sound, and it threw him off balance.
“Yeeeah!” he shrieked. His arms windmilled as he struggled to keep his balance.
“No!” Junior reached out to grab Ambrose.
“Junior!” Gunny cried.
It all seemed to happen in slow motion, but Gunny knew it was only a matter of seconds.
Ambrose fell backward off the beam. Junior stumbled as he tried to save him and fell face forward onto the beam, then lost his grip and dangled over the side. Gunny lurched toward Junior, landing on his stomach, and gripped Junior’s ankles.
And felt himself being dragged closer and closer to the end of the beam.
FIFTEEN
Gunny lay on his stomach and bent his left leg. He hooked his knee around the beam. His right leg shot out and pressed
into the side of the next girder over. He managed to stop sliding. Now he just had to hang on to Junior’s scrawny ankles long enough to get the boy back up onto the beam.
“Grab something!” Gunny shouted. “Anything!”
He could feel the boy shaking. Or maybe Gunny was the one quivering. Every muscle burned; even the cold steel seemed to burn his face where his skin pressed into the metal.
Some of the pressure eased. Junior must have found something to hang on to.
Which meant he wasn’t holding on to Ambrose.
Slowly, so slowly, Gunny edged himself backward along the beam. Down on the floor below he could see police officers swarming around the gangsters. He didn’t dare risk calling for help—expanding his lungs to yell seemed too dangerous. It could flip him right off the beam.
Now Junior was helping to push. Like strange snakes, they slithered backward in a long thin line. Gunny felt his legs hit a platform. He had reached the edge of the installed flooring.
He lifted up slightly and slid onto it, never releasing Junior’s ankles. Then he sat back on his knees and pulled Junior the rest of the way to safety. They fell away from the edge, sprawling on the unfinished floor.
“We did it,” he told the terrified boy.
“I tried to—he just went—,” Junior stammered.
“I know, son. I know,” Gunny said. “But you see? You tried to save him. Even after all that. You’re no killer. You did great.”
Junior gave Gunny a weary smile. “You’re pretty impressive for an old guy.”
Gunny returned the smile—with an equal amount of exhaustion. “You’re not so bad yourself. For a kid. Your sister, too.” He slung an arm around Junior’s shoulders. “Now let’s go take care of Jed.”
“You really were something,” Jed said as he and Gunny waited for the doctors to sign his release papers. One ankle was wrapped and his other leg was in a cast, but other than the broken bones, he was fine. He was a little dopey from the painkillers, though.
“It was those kids,” Gunny admitted. “You were right. They did have a lot to offer.”
“You handled a lot,” Jed said. “You really are ready.”
“Ready for what?” Gunny asked.
“I’m getting too old for this,” Jed continued, as if he hadn’t heard Gunny’s question. “It’s time to pass the torch.”
“What are you talking about?” Gunny laughed. “You sure those were just painkillers they gave you?”
“This whole thing…all of your life…it’s been leading here.” Jed’s voice was vague and sleepy. “To this moment.”
“You should rest,” Gunny said. “It’s been quite the day.”
“No, no,” Jed insisted, trying to rouse himself. “There are some things you need to know.”
“Not tonight,” Gunny said.
“Maybe not,” Jed said. “Tomorrow. But promise me you’ll keep an open mind.”
“Don’t I always?” Gunny said with a smile.
Gunny got a lot of strange looks when he appeared for work in his crisp bellman’s uniform the next morning. The bruises, cuts, and burns were in definite contrast to his usual professional and dapper style.
“Don’t ask,” he growled at Dodger before the boy could speak.
The little bell on the front desk jangled. A tall man with a suitcase stood waiting, smiling.
“Welcome to the Manhattan Tower Hotel,” Gunny greeted the new guest. “I’ll take these to your room.”
“Thank you,” the man said.
They rode the elevator in silence, Gunny horribly self-conscious about the condition of his face. It wasn’t the impression he liked to give hotel guests.
He opened the door to the man’s suite and placed the suitcase on the luggage rack. “Will that be all, sir?”
“Actually, Gunny,” the man said, “I’d like you to stay.”
Gunny looked at the man sharply. “How do you know my name?”
“I’ll get to that,” the man said with a smile. “My name’s Press. And I have a lot to tell you.”
SPADER
ONE
Hobey-ho, mates! We did it!” Vo Spader grinned at the group of smiling Aquaneer Academy cadets around him. He and his classmates were gathered on the forward dock near the academy entry port. “No more tests, rules, or Master Simmons’s spot safety checks! We graduate tomorrow!”
“Aquaneers all!” the group cheered.
“Aquaneers all!” Spader repeated. With a whoop he cannonballed into the water in front of the dock. Several others dove in after him.
Spader burst through the surface and shook his head, spraying water from his long dark hair. He felt great—pumped and ready for anything. His parents were arriving on the ferry soon for the graduation ceremony tomorrow, and he couldn’t wait to see them.
He pulled himself back up out of the water and sprawled on the deck, warming himself in the sun. The kids who had stayed on the dock were talking about the future.
“I’m going to Crasker,” Min Chester, a girl from his Hydrotech class was saying. “My sister works at one of the Watsu ship-building facilities there.” Their classmate, Per Watsu, was the son of the head of Watsu Shipyards.
“Sounds spiff,” Spader said. “I’m off to Grallion.”
Dor Jinsen whistled. “That’s the big agro habitat. They’ll put you to work there.”
“Bring it on!” Spader said, leaping to his feet. “I’m ready!”
Spader had thought hard about which of the habitats dotting Cloral he’d choose after graduating. It was a big decision since each was devoted to a specific industry. He was thrilled when he got his first-choice placement.
“What are you looking forward to the most?” Min asked the group.
“My mom’s cooking!” Dor said. “I’m sick of the academy menu.”
“Something new to do,” Spader said. “After drilling everything so many times, even this obstacle course is easy-o.” He nodded toward the other side of the dock where they’d spent hours navigating the obstacle course on their water sleds. “I could do it blindfolded.”
“I’d like to see you try!” Per Watsu challenged.
Spader turned to see Per Watsu above them, hanging over the rail of the observation deck. The guy was a right sinker, always bringing the mood down and trying to prove he was best at everything, especially anything Spader did well. Worse, he never seemed to have any fun. When Spader competed, he and his opponent generally had a good laugh afterward. Per was as sore a winner as he was a loser.
Per waved a hand in disgust. “I guess you just don’t want to break any rules.”
“Me?” Spader scoffed. “I haven’t met a rule yet that I couldn’t bypass.”
“Then do it,” Per goaded. “Prove once and for all that you’re better on the course than I am.”
“I already proved that,” Spader said, starting to get mad. “I’ve beaten your standings every time.”
Per’s jaw set and Spader knew he’d hit a nerve. Sure, they were only seconds apart in the finals, but seconds mattered as an aquaneer, and Spader had been named First Standing over Per. Still, using the course unsupervised was strictly forbidden. And blindfolded?
“Spader doesn’t care about any of that!” Dor argued. “I bet twenty grentons that he can get through it.”
“I’ll take that bet,” Min said laughing. “I don’t think he’ll make it to the chute.”
“No way!” Now all the kids were chattering and betting on how far through the course Spader could get. “The mama ramp will stop him!”
“Hobey!” Spader exclaimed. “I’ll make it over the baby, the mama, and the papa ramps like water over a fall!”
Per smiled smugly. “Well?” he asked. “Are you going to stand by your words? Or are you going to show everyone here that you’re just talk.”
“Why not?” Spader grinned at the group. “What can they do? Expel me? I’ve already passed!”
The group let out a cheer. Per glanced at his watch, smiled,
then went over to Min. “May I?” he asked, pointing at the sash she wore around her waist.
“For the cause,” she quipped. She unwrapped the sash and handed it to Per.
Per tied the blindfold slowly and ceremoniously around Spader’s eyes. He led him to the obstacle course entrance.
This could be a tum-tigger, Spader realized as he plunged into the water. It took him a moment to orient himself, then he struggled to unhitch the sled. His classmates on the dock shouted instructions. “The clip is on the other side.” “Don’t ride it into the dock!”
Once he was positioned properly at the water sled, Spader’s confidence kicked back in. He’d spent so much time on the nifty little thing it felt like an extension of his limbs. He could do this!
The water sled hummed to life. The kids on the dock were now chanting: “Go Spader Go!”
He zoomed up and over the first ramp—the one they all called “baby.” He slowed slightly. This wasn’t about beating the clock he reminded himself, the way it was in trials. This was about getting through it.
He visualized the course. Up first were the turns. He leaned hard left and then quickly hard right. His foot grazed the cone but he made it. He couldn’t celebrate the victory yet, though. He had three more turns to make—if his memory was right.
After the turns came…what? “Whoah!” He suddenly jolted forward. His grip must have tightened on the controls, making the sled speed up. He felt the sled angle sharply upward. He was already at the mama ramp!
“Whooo-ee!” Spader whooped as he picked up air underneath him. He shifted his weight and hit the water hard, but maintained his balance.
He could hear cheers from the dock and smiled, knowing Per must be fuming. Halfway there!
He took in a deep breath and submerged. He needed to make it through the reef fast—he didn’t have on an air globe!
No one had bothered to remind him—everyone was too wrapped up in getting on the blindfold to remember, including Spader.
He slowed the sled so he could feel his way along the reef—better to have to resurface for air than to smash into rough and sharp coral. He found the first opening and maneuvered through it, then carefully wove in and out of the rocky obstacle. His lungs felt as if they were going to explode any moment.