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 prospect 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.