“Actually, you were my choice. I knew you’d studied the tunnel system and your experience as a treasure hunter seemed useful. But Chase was wary. He’d already lost two people to his little venture. He didn’t want to risk losing more and bringing on unwanted publicity. So, he insisted on a test.”
“Which I passed with flying colors.”
Facts and memories spiraled through my head, as I sought to understand the situation. But without organization, I found myself more confused than ever. Shifting gears, I began to establish a timeline.
People broke into Hartek’s laboratory in 1976. They murdered the two scientists and stole a large bell-shaped object, known as die Glocke.
I flashed forward to the present. Somehow, the large cylinder in the laboratory toppled over, spilling unknown chemicals into an underground river. The poisoned water injured or killed members of the colony as well as the fish that inhabited the waterway. An alligator subsequently emerged, looking for food.
Around the same time, Jenson attempted to pawn a bar of Nazi gold but fled before he could be questioned. The story got back to Chase. Shortly after, the Chairman of the MTA died an untimely death, allowing Chase to take temporary control of the system.
He hired Standish to find the trove. Standish, in turn, hired Kolen and Adcock. The alligator attacked and killed Kolen and Adcock, among others. Then Chase hired me and staged his phony lockout to give me breathing room.
Three things struck me as important. First, Jenson. It seemed probable that he set the entire chain of events in motion. He must’ve entered the laboratory, stolen a gold bar from somewhere, and accidentally knocked over the cylinder.
Second, Chase was a lying, manipulative, driven bastard. Most likely, he’d killed the former MTA Chairman to carry out his plan. Who knew what other crimes he’d committed as well?
And third, Standish indicated that die Glocke, and not the gold bars, was his main priority. Why? What made it so important?
“You did well,” Standish admitted. “Without you, we might not have found those bodies. The chemicals we discovered on the remains matched up perfectly with what we knew Hartek stored in his laboratory. It didn’t take long to realize there was an underground river at work.”
“And that led you here.” I frowned. “If I had to guess, I’d say that Chase knew about the laboratory for a long time. A very long time. He just didn’t know where to find it. Is that why he joined the MTA’s board in the first place? So he could keep an eye out for it?”
Standish shrugged and I saw a bored look in his eyes.
My time was almost up.
I scanned the room, making observations. The laboratory was quite dark, despite the light fixtures in the other tunnel. The closest large object was the desk, which stood several feet away. Most importantly, Standish was alone, with no signs of immediate backup.
“So, tell me,” I said casually. “How do you like being at Chase’s beck and call? Do you even think for yourself anymore?”
His eyes burned with hatred.
“You’re a joke,” I continued. “Nothing but a yes-man with a gun. If you weren’t so pathetic, I’d almost feel sorry for you.”
“Shut up.”
I grinned, throwing even more kindling on the fire. “And the worst part is, you know I’m right. You owe everything to Chase. Without him, you’re nothing.”
His face clenched and wavered. He struggled to keep his gun hand steady but it refused to cooperate.
Steeling my body, I prepared to leap toward the desk.
“Ryan!”
The shout, which originated from outside the passageway, caught me off guard. I froze for a split second and by the time I realized what had happened, Standish’s gun was steady again.
The light coming from the subway system dimmed and a shadow flitted across the room. A second person, a woman I didn’t recognize, emerged from the passageway.
“What?” Standish asked.
“I just wanted to make sure everything was okay. I heard the shouting from outside.”
“I’m fine.”
“Do you want me to take care of him for you?”
“Oh no, Cyclone’s all mine.”
A small smile crossed his face.
Suddenly, distant gunfire crackled through the air.
All traces of light vanished.
I heard shouts and screams. Scuffling. Running footsteps. People crashing into things. People crashing into each other.
I dove behind the desk. As I removed my pistol, I felt the pain in my head resurge. Ignoring it, I scanned the room, trying to pick out Standish and the woman.
I heard scraping sounds to my left. Rotating my body, I fired three shots into the darkness. A feminine yelp followed and then a thud.
Gunfire spat right back at me and I took cover behind the desk. I knelt there for a minute, breathing softly. My thoughts briefly turned to the sounds emanating from the subway tunnel.
What’s going on out there?
I didn’t wait to find out. Lowering my head, I began crawling across the room. I moved quietly, like a slithering snake.
A wooden table leg appeared in front of my face and I pulled up, barely avoiding a noisy collision. I paused for a moment, taking stock of the situation.
Part of me wanted to fight Standish. Yet, I was outnumbered and outgunned. Even if I managed to defeat him, Beverly and the others would kill me the moment I emerged from the laboratory.
I needed to escape. And the chaos outside provided me with the necessary distraction.
That is, assuming it lasted long enough.
Cautiously, I reached up and felt around the table. My fingers closed around something. It felt like the purse I’d searched earlier.
I launched it across the room. A moment later, it smashed against the concrete floor, bounced, and skidded. I cringed. It was supposed to sound like something falling off a table due to a sudden jostle. Instead, it sounded like a diversion.
A poor diversion.
An easily traced diversion.
An idea popped into my brain. Immediately, I slid across the floor to the southwest corner. Upon reaching the purse, I hung a right and headed straight along the wall.
I gained confidence as I approached the passageway. No doubt Standish heard the noise, guessed it was a diversion, and acted accordingly. The last thing he’d expect was for me to head toward the diversion.
But as I neared the passageway, I saw a shadow looming in front of the opening. All along, I’d assumed that Standish was reacting to my actions. Instead, he’d merely positioned himself in front of the only exit, knowing that eventually, I’d have to come to him.
Before I could stop myself, a frustrated grunt escaped my lips. Standish turned his head. Jumping to my feet, I hurled myself at him. His gun hand shifted in my direction. I chopped down on it and the weapon dropped to the ground.
His fist slammed into my jaw with the force of a jackhammer. My vision blurred and I saw colors around the edges. My headache returned with a vengeance and I knew I didn’t have long before I experienced another incident.
Ducking under his arm, I swept his leg and he fell on his back. Before he could recover, I sprinted through the passageway.
As I exited into the subway tunnel, I saw darkness, interspersed with frantic movements.
“Cy.”
The familiar, feminine voice rang in my ears like a discordant note. Spinning to the side, I pushed Beverly against the wall and placed my arm against her windpipe. “Why the hell did you do this to me?”
“We don’t have time for this,” she gasped. “I knocked out the lights and fired a few bullets. They’re confused now, but it won’t take long before they’ve got this area back under lock and key.”