"Mine too," Sam said grimly. "But I think we were wrong, and I feel responsible for getting her into all this. So let's go and get Julia Rose and the key."
By midnight Sam, Nina, and Purdue had all eaten and bathed and were wrapped in thick, soft robes. They sat around a small table sharing a twenty-five-year-old bottle of Talisker, discussing their plans.
"How dangerous are they likely to be?" Nina asked. "With Cody out of the picture, do you think Sara's likely to also be armed? And what about the acolytes?"
"To some extent," said Purdue, "Though I suspect Cody was their muscle. They have knives, we know that. I think our best hope is to try to isolate Sara and subdue her."
"I suppose that as soon as we get Sara's key from her, time won't be on our side," Sam speculated. "She'll contact whoever has the third key. Can we stop her from doing that?"
"Put her in the cells," Nina suggested. "I'm not keen on the idea of inflicting that on anyone, but it would buy us a bit of time. Mind you, that will only work if the initiates aren't around. Can we bide our time until the end of the Mind Meld?"
Sam shook his head. "They'll be waiting on Cody coming back. When he doesn't, they'll know something's wrong. Purdue, are they likely to figure out that we're after these keys?"
"I should think so," Purdue said, with a hint of hollow amusement. "Sara is many things, but she is not stupid. Because Cody was able to pinpoint our destination, we can safely assume that Sara knew that I would attempt to destroy those servers. No matter how confident she is in Cody's thuggish abilities, she would be a fool not to take steps to protect the key. She will be ready for us. I am just not sure what form that will take. Perhaps more drones, hopefully nothing worse. I was not directly involved in the development of the Parashant base, so I cannot speak for its aggressive capabilities."
"Are we out of ice?" Nina leaned over and looked into the ice bucket. "Damn it, we are."
"Then try drinking it properly," Sam teased. "Just whisky in the glass — no water, no ice, no nonsense. It's the only way."
Nina snorted. "Yeah. If you like the feeling of your throat burning. I'll just go to the machine and get some more. Back in a second." She pulled on a pair of white hotel slippers, grabbed the bucket, and reached for the door handle. "How do I unlock this? Is there a trick to it?"
Purdue crossed the room and tried the handle for himself. "It's not locked," he said, but the door did not budge. "Or at least, it shouldn't be. Perhaps I locked it without thinking." He pressed his hand against the plate above the handle, and then tried once again to open the door. Nothing happened, but Purdue's spine stiffened and his face went white.
In one swift, fluid movement Purdue ripped a panel from the wall beside the door, revealing a touch screen. He pressed his fingertips against it, then his whole hand. When this failed to get the result he wanted, he cursed softly and began tapping and swiping rapidly. "Nina, call reception," he said, not looking up from his task. "Ask them to confirm whether this door is supposed to be locked."
Scrambling across the bed, Nina snatched up the phone and pressed zero. A few moments later she slammed it down again. "They said it's unlocked," she said. "They told me to try again." Purdue tried the handle once more, but to no avail.
"Can we shoulder it open?" Sam asked. He scanned the outline of the door, looking for hinges, and then remembered that it only slid. He banged on it with his fist. "It doesn't feel that solid. We should be able to budge it open."
"Try your handprint first." Purdue seized Sam's wrist and pushed his hand against the panel. The uncovered screen flashed red. The door stayed in place. "No, not you, either… They have your handprint."
"Who?" Sam asked. "FireStorm? Why would they—"
"I think they have someone in the building. Someone who knows we are here and is overriding the door controls to keep us contained. If they had deactivated the doors for the whole building the reception staff would be bound to know by now, but it appears that it is just us. The door should unlock at the touch of my hand. Indeed, when opening from the inside, any door in this place should respond to the touch of any hand — the correct print is only required to gain entrance to a room, not exit from it. I can only assume that they have overridden that command specifically for us."
Sam racked his brain, trying to think when FireStorm could possibly have acquired his hand print. He could not remember giving them any identifying information, but there was so much that was strange and hard to remember about the events of his time at Parashant.
An image flashed in his mind of warm, damp earth, dark walls, and a strange glow in front of him. The trials, he thought. When we had to put our hands on that orb and keep them there… That must have been it. Staring into the pool, being prodded in the mouth by whatever that was. Were they harvesting biometric information? I thought they were just hippies…
"Nina!" Sam called over to her. "You didn't do the trials, did you?"
Her eyebrow shot up. "What? Why the fuck are you asking me that?"
"Never mind!" he yelled. "Did you do them?"
"No, I—" she was cut off with a yelp as Sam dived across the bed and swept her up, carrying her over to the door. He pushed her hand against the panel. At last, the lock clicked. Sam yanked the handle and the door slid silently open.
"Sorry, Nina," Sam said, gasping a little from the sudden exertion. "I just wanted to spare your ankle. I hope I didn't—"
"Get down!" she yelled. Sam obeyed on instinct, just in time to hear something whistling past his head.
Purdue was less swift. The knife hit him in the left shoulder. He stifled a cry of pain as he pulled it out, then, with a snarl, threw it straight back in the direction from which it had come. He hit the female acolyte square in the chest. She fell to her knees, collapsed onto the floor and began to stain the pale hallway carpet with blood.
"I think," he panted, "we can safely say that they know we're here."
Chapter Twenty-Nine
"Purdue!" Sam rushed over and crouched beside him. Blood was flowing freely from the open wound. Behind them Nina slammed the door shut again, and then turned to see her blood-soaked lover slumped on the floor. Without a word, she and Sam took hold of Purdue and stripped his bathrobe from him, then folded it a couple of times and held it against the gash in his skin.
"Keep that there," Nina said. "I'm going to call for help." She lifted the receiver on the bedside phone, picking up Purdue's folded clothes from the bed and tossing them to Sam while she waited for an answer. There was none. She hung up and pressed zero again, pulling her own clothes on with her free hand. The phone rang and rang. She tried 911. Instead of clicking straight through to emergency services, that number rang and rang. "They've cut us off somehow," she muttered, hanging up. "Let me take over. You need to get dressed."
Sam did as he was told. He dashed through to the other room where he had left his clothes and pulled them on, returning just in time to hear tapping on the door.
"Open the door, please." They heard Sara's voice from the corridor. "I would like to resolve this without any further bloodshed, but if you continue to resist I will have the hotel call the police. I'm sure they would be interested to hear about why there is a dead woman out here — especially because the knife in her chest has Dave's fingerprints all over it."
Nina, Sam, and Purdue glanced at one another. Sam saw the alarm in Nina's eyes and thought her expression must be a match for his own. With pain in his every movement, Purdue held up a hand, motioning them to be silent.