“D’Agosta?” he said, adjusting the channel. “D’Agosta, this is Pendergast. Do you read?”
The radio squealed static. Then: “D’Agosta here.”
“D’Agosta, what’s your status?”
[363] “We met up with that creature of yours,” came the response. “It got into the Hall, killed Ippolito and an injured guest. We moved into the stairwell, but the basement door was jammed. We had to go to the subbasement.”
“Understood,” Pendergast said. “How many of your weapons were you able to take?”
“We only had time to grab one twelve-gauge and a service revolver.”
“What’s your current position?”
“In the subbasement, maybe fifty yards from the stairwell door.”
“Listen closely, Vincent. I’ve been speaking with Professor Frock. The creature we’re dealing with is extremely intelligent. Maybe even as smart as you or I.”
“Speak for yourself.”
“If you see it again, don’t aim for the head. The slugs will just bounce off the skull. Aim for the body.”
There was silence for a moment, then D’Agosta’s voice returned. “Look, Pendergast, you need to tell Coffey some of this. He’s sending some men in, and I don’t think he has any idea of what’s waiting for him.”
“I’ll do my best. But first let’s talk about getting you out of here. That beast may be hunting you.”
“No shit.”
“I can direct you out of the Museum through the subbasement. It won’t be easy. These blueprints are very old, and they may not be completely reliable. There may be water.”
“We’re standing in half a foot of it now. Look, Pendergast, are you sure about this? I mean, there’s a mother of a storm outside.”
“It’s either face the water, or face the beast. There are forty of you; you’re the most obvious target. You’ve got to move, and move quickly—it’s the only way out.”
“Can you link up with us?”
“No. We’ve decided to stay here and lure it away from you. There’s no time to explain now. If our plan [364] works, we’ll join you further on. Thanks to these blueprints, I’ve discovered more than one way to get into the subbasement from Cell Two.”
“Christ, Pendergast, be careful.”
“I intend to. Now, listen carefully. Are you in a long, straight passage?”
“Yes.”
“Very good. Where the hall forks, go right. The hall should fork a second time in another hundred yards or so. When you get to the second fork, radio me. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“Good luck. Pendergast out.”
Pendergast quickly switched frequencies. “Coffey, this is Pendergast. Do you copy?”
“Coffey here. Goddammit, Pendergast, I’ve been trying to reach you for—”
“No time for that now. Are you sending a rescue team in?”
“Yes. They’re preparing to leave now.”
“Then make sure they’re armed with heavy-caliber automatic weapons, flak helmets, and bulletproof vests. There’s a powerful, murderous creature in here, Coffey. I saw it. It has the run of Cell Two.”
“For Chrissakes, you andD’Agosta! Pendergast, if you’re trying to—”
Pendergast spoke rapidly into the radio. “I’ll only warn you once more. You’re dealing with something monstrous here. Underestimate it at your peril. I’m signing off.”
“No, Pendergast, wait! I order you to—”
Pendergast switched off the radio.
= 52 =
They slogged into the water, dim flashlight beams licking the low ceiling in front and behind. The flow of air in the tunnel continued to blow gently into their faces. D’Agosta was alarmed now. The beast could come up behind them unannounced, its stench wafted away from them.
He paused a moment to let Bailey catch up. “Lieutenant,” said the Mayor, catching his breath, “are you certain there’s a way out through here?”
“I can only go by what Agent Pendergast said, sir. He’s got the blueprints. But I sure as hell know we don’t want to go back.”
D’Agosta and the group started forward again. Dark, oily drops were falling from a ceiling of arched herringbone bricks. The walls were crusted with lime. Everyone was silent except for one woman, who was quietly weeping.
“Excuse me, Lieutenant?” said a voice. The young, lanky guy. Smithback.
[366] “Yes?”
‘Would you mind telling me something?”
“Shoot.”
“How does it feel to have the lives of forty people, including the Mayor of New York City, in your hands?”
“What?” D’Agosta stopped a moment, glared over his shoulder. “Don’t tell me we’ve got a fucking journalistwith us!”
“Well, I—” began Smithback.
“Call downtown and make an appointment to see me at headquarters.”
D’Agosta played the light ahead and found the fork in the tunnel. He took the right-hand passage, as Pendergast had directed. It had a slight downhill grade, and the water began to move faster, tugging on his pants legs as it rushed past into the blackness beyond. The wound in his hand throbbed. As the group moved around the corner behind him, D’Agosta noted with relief that the breeze was no longer blowing in their faces.
A bloated dead rat came floating past, bumping against people’s legs like a lazy, oversized billiard ball. One person groaned and tried to kick it away, but no one complained.
“Bailey!” called D’Agosta behind him.
“Yeah?”
“See anything?”
“You’ll be the first to know if I do.”
“Gotcha. I’m going to call in upstairs, see if they’ve made any progress in restoring power.”
He grabbed his radio. “Coffey?”
“Reading. Pendergast just shut me off. Where are you?”
“We’re in the subbasement. Pendergast has a blueprint. He’s leading us out by radio. When are the lights coming on?”
“D’Agosta, don’t be an idiot. He’ll get you all killed. It doesn’t look as if we’ll be getting power back any time soon. Go back to the Hall of the Heavens and wait [367] there. We’ll be sending the SWAT team in through the roof in a couple of minutes.”
“Then you should know that Wright, Cuthbert, and the Public Relations Director are upstairs somewhere, the fourth floor, probably. That’s the only other exit point for that stairwell.”
“What are you talking about? You didn’t take them with you?”
“They refused to come along. Wright cut out on his own and the others followed him.”
“Sounds like they had more sense than you did. Is the Mayor all right? Let me talk to the him.”
D’Agosta handed the radio over. “Are you all right, sir?” Coffey asked urgently.
“We’re in capable hands with the Lieutenant.”
“It’s my strong opinion, sir, that you should head back to the Hall of the Heavens and wait there for assistance. We’re sending in a SWAT team to rescue you.”
“I have every confidence in Lieutenant D’Agosta. As should you.”
“Yes, of course, sir. Rest assured that I’m going to get you safely out of there, sir.”
“Coffey?”
“Sir?”
“There are three dozen people in here besides me. Don’t forget that.”
“But I just want you to know, sir, we’re being extra—”
“Coffey! I don’t think you understood me. Every life down here is worth all the effort you’ve got.”
“Yes, sir.”
The Mayor handed the radio back to D’Agosta. “Am I wrong, or is that fellow Coffey a horse’s ass?” he muttered.
D’Agosta holstered the radio and proceeded down the passage. Then he stopped, playing his flashlight over an object that loomed out of the blackness in front of them. [368] It was a steel door, closed. The oily water rushed through a thickly barred grating in its bottom panel. He waded closer. It was similar to the door at the base of the stairwelclass="underline" thick, double-plated, studded with rusty rivets. An old copper lock, covered with verdigris, was looped through a thick metal D ring along the door’s side. D’Agosta grabbed the lock and pulled, but it held fast.