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Walker rushed to her side and looked over to see Marc moving toward the big pine tree on the south side of the building.

“I see him.” Grace peered out into the darkness. “He’s still got that gun.”

“It’s an assault rifle, Grace, probably with a night scope.”

“But aren’t they illegal?”

“I don’t think he cares about that. The balconies are all on that side of the building, aren’t they?”

“That’s right,” Moira confirmed. “Paul wanted a southern exposure.”

“Smoke!” Betty exulted as the word came easily to her lips. She pointed toward the air-conditioner vent and said it again. “Smell the smoke. Building on fire?”

“Nope.” Walker shook his head. “I kept an eye on the monitor while you were lining up at the door and I saw Marc doing something to the furnace. He must have backed it up to smoke us out. Probably plans on picking us off when we stick our heads out for air.”

Grace began to smile. “At least he can’t come into the building again, not until the smoke clears.”

“That’s true,” Ellen agreed. “But there’s no way for us to get any fresh air, either. The whole dome’s sealed off.”

“Washer.” They turned to look at Betty. “We can open the window-washer.”

“You’re right!” Moira exclaimed, leaning over to give her a big hug. “There’s a panel that lifts out for the window-washing equipment. Over on the other side of the swimming pool.”

“Okay, everyone over here.” Walker motioned for them to join him. “Now, don’t make a sound. We’ll lift out the panel and then I’ll go down the side of the building on the scaffolding.”

Moira frowned. “But how? The equipment’s electrical.”

“See that handle?” Walker pointed to a hand crank mounted on the wall beneath the panel. “It’s a safety device and there’s another crank mounted on the side of the scaffolding. I’ll crank myself down as fast as I can and the moment I’m on the ground, crank the scaffolding back up again. Got it?”

Ellen grabbed his arm. “Don’t do it, Walker. He’ll shoot you before you get close enough to use that bayonet.”

“You’re forgetting that he’s positioned himself to concentrate on the balconies and the front door. He’ll never expect anyone to come down this side and circle around.”

“But we’ve got fresh air now. Why can’t we just wait until Jayne and Paul bring the police?”

Walker pulled her over to the side where no one else could hear them. “Look, Ellen, we can’t count on them to bail us out in time. I didn’t want to say anything in front of the others, but after Marc finished with the furnace, he went over to inspect the gas lines. If smoking us out doesn’t work, I figure he’ll blow up the building with us in it.”

Ellen shuddered and Walker pulled her into his arms. He kissed her and reached out to cradle her cheek. “I know what I’m doing, Ellen. It’s our best shot. Watch from the windows and if I can’t take him out, get everyone down on the scaffolding and head for the woods.”

“But if we go down on the scaffolding, we can’t crank it back up.”

“It won’t matter then. He’ll already know that I used it to get down and he’ll figure the rest of you are still up there. We have to do it this way, Ellen. We don’t have any other options.”

Tears came to Ellen’s eyes. Walker was right. But as she watched Walker crank himself down and she brought the empty scaffolding back up, she was working on her own backup plan.

Sergeant Dennis Rawley sighed. She’d been crying for the past ten minutes and nothing made him feel more helpless than a woman’s tears. A veteran officer only a year from retirement, he’d been shot five times, once nearly fatally, and had lost three partners. Two of them had been killed in the line of duty and one had eaten the barrel of his own gun. He’d seen every kind of abuse that humans could dish out and had been on the receiving end more than once, but the sight of a woman with silent tears rolling down her cheeks still turned his insides into jelly.

“It’s all right, Ma’am. They’re loading up right now and they’ll be there in less than twenty minutes. That’s guaranteed.” Tears were still streaming down her cheeks and he reached out to pat her hand. “How about coming up to the roof and watching them take off? It’s against regulations, but I can swing it.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you!” She gave him a blinding smile and Dennis felt ten feet tall as he led her up the stairs and showed her where it was safe to stand. Her husband was going in with the SWAT team, to give them the layout. Dennis watched the men pile in, carrying rifles and equipment. They looked like an invasion team and that’s really what they were. He didn’t envy them the dangerous assignment.

In the harsh glare from the lights he could see she was still half-frozen from the exposure. Dennis had called in the Doc. A patch of white skin on her left cheek looked like frostbite, a rare sight under the blazing Vegas sun.

“Hurry! Please hurry!”

“They will, Ma’am.”

Jayne didn’t realize that she’d spoken aloud until he answered. She could see a blinking neon sign in the distance, four-thirty AM, eighty-five degrees. Another warm Vegas night, but she was still shivering in Betty’s fur coat.

The rotor started and the deafening noise filled Jayne with hope as she watched the huge helicopter lift off. She watched until it was nothing but a speck in the night sky and then turned to the officer beside her. “Twenty minutes?”

Dennis nodded. “That’s right, Ma’am. How about a cup of coffee?”

Jayne let him lead her back into the building. Her knees shaking as they walked back down the stairs. As she watched the steaming liquid pour into the cardboard cup, Jayne couldn’t help but think of the four friends they’d left behind, Moira, Grace, and Ellen, barricaded in poor Betty’s room. How long could they hold out against a trained killer?

TWENTY-TWO

The west side of the building was landscaped with a hedge of juniper and Walker crouched behind it for cover. He worked his way around the building, wincing at the open field of snow ahead, still showing the blurry indentation of their snow angels. That happy time seemed far in the past, though it had actually been less than thirty hours ago.

Feeling the adrenaline rushing through his veins, he forced himself to slow down. Time was not of the essence, but caution was, and his breathing was already ragged. The Springfield weighed approximately eleven pounds, the bayonet probably bringing the total up to twelve. He’d trekked through the muck of Vietnam carrying at least fifty pounds, but he’d been much younger then.

As soon as his breathing had slowed, Walker assessed his chances. The wind had died down and now it was as quiet as a tomb. To make matters worse, the temperature had dropped, causing the snow to crunch underfoot.

Just then a crash sounded back in the trees on the far side of the building, as a fairly large animal moved through the brush. A coyote, perhaps, or a deer. It was an unexpected break. The moment he heard it, Walker was up and moving, streaking across the bare field of snow, using the sound for cover.

A shot shattered the stillness of the night. Marc had spotted him, but only after he’d reached the safety of the pine grove. Here only light snow dusted the ground, and less than five minutes later he was in the center of the grove, about a hundred yards directly behind Marc’s position. There was still an exposed patch of snow to cross, but he had to wait for his chance.

Walker settled down and forced his tense body to relax. The bright pink jacket had only a thin lining of flannel inside. It had been designed for warmer temperatures, but it was better than nothing. Luckily, he’d been wearing his boots. Ellen had found a perfectly adequate pair of leather gloves, but Walker knew he couldn’t last indefinitely out here in the cold. He had to hope his chance would come soon, while he could still move rapidly and efficiently.