He moved on toward the adjacent lab when the sudden braying of a horse froze him in his tracks. He could detect no movement around him and finally decided that the sound came from the horse stables at the end of the building. He studied the lab and was relieved to see only a few dim lights turned on on the lower level. Some brighter lights glimmered from the upstairs windows, and he heard the faint sound of music coming from above. The living quarters for the scientists who worked in the lab obviously were upstairs.
Checking again to see that no horse patrols were nearby, he crept to the glass entry door and pushed. To his surprise, the door was unlocked and opened into the test bay. He entered quickly and closed the door behind him. The bay was illuminated by a few desk lamps and buzzed with the hum of a dozen oscilloscopes but was otherwise empty. Gunn noticed a coatrack near the entrance and grabbed one of several white, long-sleeved lab coats hanging on the hooks, which he slipped over his own dark jacket. Might as well look the part, he thought, figuring it might be enough to deceive someone looking in from outside.
He walked to the main corridor, which stretched the length of the building, and noticed the lights were turned on in a few scattered offices. Fearful of being caught in the open hallway, he hesitated only a second, then stormed down the hall. He walked as fast as his legs could move without breaking into a run, keeping his eyes forward and face down. To the three other people still working at the late hour, he was just a quick blur past the window. All they could tell was that it was someone in a white lab coat, one of their comrades, probably on the way to the bathroom.
Gunn quickly reached the thick door at the end of the hall. With heavy breath and heart pounding, he flipped the latch and shoved. The massive door swung open quietly, revealing the huge anechoic chamber inside. Towering in the center of the room under a bright circle of overhead lights was von Wachter's acoustic seismic device, just as Pitt and Giordino had described it.
Thankful to find the chamber empty, Gunn climbed through the door and up onto the catwalk.
"We're halfway home," he muttered as he pulled out the digital camera. Noting the handheld radio on his belt, he silently wondered how Pitt and Giordino were faring.
-53-
IF YOU CAN PROVIDE a distraction from the front, then I should be able to slip around and surprise them from the side," Pitt whispered, studying the two guards standing like bookends on either side of the main residence door. "A visit from my pet monkey should do the trick," Giordino replied, patting the heavy red pipe wrench dangling from his belt.
Pitt lowered his head then released the safety on his Colt. That they would have to subdue the front-entry guards in order to gain entry to the residence was a given. The challenge would be to do so without firing a shot and alerting the small army of security forces that Borjin kept on the compound.
The two men moved quietly along one of the reflecting canals that flowed toward the house, advancing in short quick bursts. They dropped to the ground and crawled to a rose bed that circled around the residence's main covered entryway. They were within clear sight of the guards as they peered through a bed of ivory yellow Damask roses.
The guards stood leaning against the residence in a relaxed state, accustomed to the uneventful grind of the night shift. Save for an evening walk or a late return from Ulaanbaatar, neither Borjin nor his sister were seldom seen after ten o'clock.
Pitt motioned for Giordino to stay put and give him five minutes to reposition himself. As Giordino nodded and hunkered down in the rose bed, Pitt silently looped his way around toward the far side of the entrance. Following the rose bed, he reached the entry drive and, as Gunn had done, gently stepped his way across the crushed gravel. The grounds were open from the road to the house, and Pitt moved quickly across the area, running low to the ground. The front face of the house was dotted with shrubs, and he ducked behind a large juniper bush, then peeked through it to the front porch. The guards stood as they were, oblivious to his movements in the dark just a few dozen yards away.
Creeping forward, he picked his way bush by bush until reaching the edge of the covered portico. He kneeled to the ground, tightened his grip on the .45, and waited for Giordino to start the show.
Seeing no suspicious activities by the guards, Giordino gave Pitt an extra minute before moving from the rose bed. He had noted that the column supports for the portico roof offered a perfect blind spot from which to approach the porch. He inched to one side until one of the columns blocked his view of the guards, then stepped out of the rosebushes.
As he figured, if he couldn't see the guards, then they couldn't see him, and he angled his way right up to the back side of the column. The front door was less than twenty feet away, and he would have a clear shot at either guard. Without saying a word or making a sound, he casually stepped from behind the column, took aim at one of the guards, then hauled back and flung the pipe wrench like a tomahawk.
Both guards immediately saw the squat Italian step into view, but both were too startled to react. They stared in disbelief as a red object tumbled through the air at them, smashing one of them in the chest, cracking his ribs and knocking the breath out of him. The buffeted guard fell to his knees, wheezing a moan of shock and pain. The other guard instinctively stepped to his aid, but, seeing that his partner was not injured seriously, stood up to charge after Giordino. Only Giordino was no longer there, having ducked back behind the column. The guard stumbled toward the column, then stopped when he detected footsteps behind him. He turned in time to see the butt of Pitt's .45 strike his temple just beneath his helmet.
As the lights went out, Pitt managed to slip his hands under the man's arms and catch him before he collapsed to the ground. Giordino popped from behind the column and approached as Pitt dragged the unconscious guard toward some bushes. Pitt noticed a sudden glint in Giordino's eyes just before he yelled, "Down!"
Pitt ducked as Giordino took two steps and leaped directly toward him. Giordino stretched out and soared up and over Pitt, flying toward the first guard who now stood behind Pitt. The injured man had shaken off the blow from the wrench and staggered to his feet with a short knife, which he'd been preparing to plunge into Pitt's back. Giordino whipped his left arm forward midair, knocking the guard's knife to the side before tumbling into him with his full weight. They fell hard to the ground together, Giordino driving his weight into the man's chest. The pressure on the guard's broken ribs was unbearable and the wincing man gasped as he tried to suck in air. Giordino's right fist beat out the cry, crashing into the side of his neck and knocking him out before another warble left his mouth.
"That was a little close," Giordino gasped.
"Thanks for the leap of faith," Pitt said. He stood up and surveyed the compound. The grounds and house appeared quiet. If the guards had triggered an alarm, it wasn't apparent.
"Let's get these guys out of sight," Pitt said, dragging his victim again toward the bushes. Giordino followed suit, grabbing his guard by the collar and pulling him backward.
"Hope the next shift change doesn't arrive soon," he huffed.
As Pitt deposited his body by the bushes, he turned to Giordino with a twinkle in his eye.
"I think it may arrive sooner than you think," he said with a knowing wink.
-54-
THERESA WATCHED AS the tiny flames gobbled up the torn pages, then slowly grew higher and brighter as the fire danced over the open books. When it was clear that the fire would sustain itself, Theresa moved quickly to the study doorway, grabbing the file of reports that Wofford had earlier tried to take. Inside were samples of von Wachter's detailed imaging, along with the seismic fault maps and their unsettling red markings, including the chart of Alaska. Casting a glance back at the glowing yellow blaze beginning to erupt at the back of the room, Theresa turned and bolted down the corridor. She moved in a shuffling run, fleeing as fast as she could without pounding the marble floor with a loud patter. Nervous adrenaline pumped through her veins as she dashed along, the pr
ospect of escape at last a reality. The plan was simple. They would hide off the foyer until the fire drew the response of the front-entry guards. Slipping outside, they would try to commandeer a vehicle in the ensuing chaos and make a break at the front gate. The fire was now set, and Theresa felt a glimmer of confidence that their humble escape plan might actually work.
She slowed to a walk as she approached the foyer, searching for Wofford's hiding spot. He stood where she left him, standing beside a large fluted column. Seeing her approach, he looked at her with dread in his eyes. Theresa smiled in return, indicating with a nod that she had been successful. The normally jovial Wofford stood stone-still, his face in a tight grimace.
Then Tatiana stepped out from behind Wofford's shadow, waving a small automatic pistol at his back. With a menacing smile, she hissed at Theresa. "A beautiful evening for a walk, no?"
Theresa gasped as a chill ran down her spine like the Polar Express. Then seeing the wicked smile on Tatiana's lips, her fear was replaced with anger. If her time was at hand, she decided, then she wasn't going to go down meekly.
"I could not sleep," she tried bluffing. "We are so close to finishing the analysis. I convinced the guard to let us retrieve some of the reports so that we could work in our rooms," she said, holding up the file under her arm.
It was a game effort, but Theresa could see by the look in Tatiana's eyes that she was buying none of it.
"And where is the guard?"
"He is closing down the study."
A conveniently timed tumbling of books sounded from down the corridor, the work of the fire burning through a lower bookshelf. An inquisitive look crossed Tatiana's face and she took a step toward the center of the foyer to peek down the hall, keeping the gun pointed at Wofford. He glanced at Theresa, who nodded slightly in return.
As if in a rehearsed move, Theresa flung her bundled papers at Tatiana's face while Wofford lunged for her right arm, the one holding the pistol. With a snakelike quickness that surprised them both, Tatiana instantly spun in a half circle, sidestepping Wofford's reach as the tossed files bounced harmlessly off the back of her head. Spinning forward, she stepped toward Theresa and jammed the gun in her cheek while the cloud of papers was still fluttering to the ground.
"I should kill you now for that," she hissed into Theresa's ear while waving Wofford back with her other hand. "We shall see what other tricks you have been up to."
Prodding Theresa across the foyer with the muzzle of the gun, a Makarov PM automatic, she led her to the front door. Reaching around with her free hand, Tatiana flung the door open.
"Guards," she barked. "Come assist me."
The two guards on the porch, dressed in Mongol warrior attire with their tin helmets pulled low, burst through the door and quickly sized up the situation. The first guard stepped toward Wofford and produced a handgun, which he jammed into the geophysicist's ribs. The second guard, a shorter man, stepped up to Theresa and grabbed her tightly by the arm.
"Take her," Tatiana ordered, pulling the gun away from Theresa's face. The guard obliged by roughly jerking her away from Tatiana. A wave of hopelessness fell over Theresa as she looked at Wofford with despair. Oddly, the look of gloom had passed from Wofford's face and he looked at her with a gaze of hope. Then the viselike grip around her arm suddenly eased. In an unexpected move, the guard let go of Theresa's arm and suddenly grasped Tatiana by the wrist. With the flick of his powerful hand, he twisted Tatiana's wrist while applying a pincerlike squeeze to her hand. The gun slipped from her hand before she realized what was happening, the pistol clanging across the marble floor. The guard then jerked her wrist again and shoved, sending Tatiana sprawling to the floor with a shriek of pain.
"What on earth are you doing?" she cried, rising to her feet while cradling her bent wrist. For the first time, she looked earnestly at the guard, noticing that his sleeves dangled from a shirt two sizes too large. He smiled at her with a somehow-familiar grin that seemed out of place. She turned toward the other guard and saw that his uniform was way too small for his tall frame. And the gun he was holding was now aimed at her. Looking into the face, she gasped at the penetrating green eyes that stared back at her with morbid delight.
"You!" she rasped, losing her voice in shock.
"You were expecting Chicken Delight?" Pitt replied, holding the .45 aimed at her belly.
"But you died in the desert," she stammered.
"No, that would be that phony monk friend of yours," Giordino replied, picking up the Makarov. Tatiana seemed to shrivel at the words.
"Al, you came back," Theresa said, nearly welling up at the turn of events. Giordino squeezed her hand.
"Sorry to rough you around on the way in," he said. Theresa nodded her head in understanding and squeezed his hand back.
"We are sure glad to see you, Mr. Pitt," Wofford said. "We had little hope of getting out of here in one piece."
"We saw what they did to Roy," Pitt said with a cold eye to Tatiana. "This place isn't exactly a Girl Scout camp. All the same, you saved us the trouble of trying to find you in this palace."
"I think it might be a good time to make an exit, before any real palace guards show up," Giordino added, escorting Theresa toward the door.
"Wait," she said. "The seismic reports. We found evidence that they may try to disrupt tectonic fault zones in the Persian Gulf and Alaska."
"This is absurd," Tatiana declared.
"No one is talking to you, sister," Giordino replied, pointing the Makarov in her direction.
"It's true," Wofford said, bending down and helping Theresa scoop up the papers that littered the floor. "They designated the destruction of the oil pipeline at the northern end of Lake Baikal that somehow triggered the seiche wave. They've also targeted specific faults in the Persian Gulf, and one near the Alaska Pipeline as well."
"They've already struck the gulf successfully, I'm afraid," Pitt said. "The data should fill in nicely with the photos that Rudi is taking as we speak," Giordino added.
Pitt saw the quizzical looks on Theresa and Wofford's faces.
"An acoustic seismic array sits in the lab across the way. Used to trigger earthquakes, we believe, which have already created extensive damage to oil port facilities in the Persian Gulf. Your documents would appear to support the contention. We didn't know Alaska was next on the hit list."
Theresa stood up with an armload of documents when a deafeningly shrill sound pierced the hallway. The growing blaze of burning books had finally triggered a smoke detector outside the study, its alarm echoing throughout the residence.
"We set fire to the study," Theresa explained. "Hoped to use it as a diversion for Jim and I to escape."
"Maybe we still can," Pitt replied, "but let's not wait for the fire brigade to arrive."
He quickly stepped through the open door as Theresa and Wofford followed behind. Tatiana edged toward the back wall, trying to slip behind in the mass exit. Giordino smiled at her attempt, walking over and grabbing a fistful of her sweater.
"I'm afraid you'll be leaving with us, darling. Do you care to walk or fly?" he asked, shoving her roughly toward the door. Tatiana turned and snarled at him, then begrudgingly moved through the doorway.
Outside, Pitt quickly led the group across the portico to the outlying support columns, then stopped. The sound of galloping horse hooves far to his right told him a patrol near the northern edge of the residence had heard the alarm and was charging toward the entrance. Ahead and to his left, a yelling and commotion was erupting near the stables and security quarters. Pitt could see lanterns and flashlights hurrying toward the residence, carried by guards woken by the alarm and rushing there on foot.
Pitt silently cursed that Theresa had set fire to the residence. If they had gotten away a few minutes earlier, the confusion might have played into their hands. But now the entire security force was roused and rushing toward their position. Their only option was to lay low and hope the guards surged past them.
Pitt m
otioned toward the rosebushes behind the columns. "Everybody get down flat. We'll wait for them to enter the house, then we'll move on," he said in a low voice.
Theresa and Wofford quickly dove to the ground and slithered behind a row of the thorny flowers. Giordino shoved Tatiana behind a budding bush, then clasped a hand over her mouth. With his other hand, he motioned the Makarov's barrel to his lips and said, "Shhh."
Pitt kneeled down and pulled the handheld radio from his belt then held it to his lips.
"Rudi, can you hear me?" he said quietly.
"I'm all ears," came an equally hushed reply.
"We're on our way out, but there's a party starting up. We'll have to meet up on the fly, in about five or ten minutes."
"I'll wrap up and head toward the garage. Out."
Pitt hit the ground as a trio of guards from the stables approached. Running on foot, they bolted by a few feet from Pitt, barely noticing that the entry guards were nowhere in sight before rushing into the residence. Only a few dim lights were turned on near the door, leaving Pitt and the others hidden in the covering darkness.
The horse patrol was still fifty yards away. Pitt contemplated moving past the rosebushes and into the compound grounds before they got closer, then thought better of it. The horse patrol wouldn't expect anyone lying around the entrance. With luck, Theresa's fire would be raging sufficiently that they would all be pressed into fire-fighting duty.
The horse patrol, numbering eight men, had been galloping fast toward the front entry when they suddenly pulled up hard on their reins as they reached the gravel drive. An uneasy feeling came over Pitt as he watched the horsemen fan out in a large semicircle at the edge of the portico, then stop. Two of the horses snorted in uneasiness as the riders held them still. Inside the residence, the ringing alarm suddenly fell silent as four additional guards approached on foot from the opposite side and stopped short of the drive. The fire was either raging out of control, or as Pitt feared, it had been contained before it could spread.