In the end, whether he understood or not, he came to investigate. I heard him crossing the space between us. He was using crutches. I could tell from the sound he made. He came closer. His head appeared around the corner. His chest. His face registered surprise. But only for a moment. Because as he stepped forward I took a handful of his shirt, just below his neck. I twisted for a better grip and slammed him back against the wall. The wind was knocked out of him. He slumped forward, gasping for breath. Dropped one crutch and cradled the back of his head with his hand.
“Let go.” He could barely manage a whisper.
I twisted the shirt harder, increasing the pressure on his throat.
“I’ll yell.” He summoned a little more volume. “Get help. Others’ll be here in two seconds.”
I said, “Really? How many? There were four of you last night. How did that work out?”
The guy tried to suck in some breath.
“Go ahead. I hope your buddies do come. I hope Dendoncker comes. I wonder if he’ll be impressed? Only, the way I understand it, when you’re on sentry duty you’re supposed to stop intruders. Not let them in and then start crying.”
The guy breathed out, slowly. He made a mean hissing sound, but he didn’t shout.
“Smart move,” I said. “Let’s do this instead. I’ll ask you a couple of questions. You answer. And Dendoncker never finds out how useless you are.”
“No way. I won’t tell you anything.”
“OK.” I hooked my foot behind the guy’s standing leg and swept it out from under him. He crashed down next to the track, in the gap between the rail and the wall. I grabbed his right pants leg, just above the ankle, and hauled it up to waist height. Pulled out my knife. Found a blade with a serrated edge, like a little saw. And slid it between the plaster of paris and his skin. “Time for a new plan. Get rid of the bandage. Remember how it felt yesterday? When the bones broke? You screamed pretty good. I bet it was louder than you can shout. That should bring Dendoncker and his boys running. Save me the trouble of hunting them down later.”
“You wouldn’t.”
I went to work with the blade. It cut through the powdery material with no effort at all. The guy was mesmerized for a moment. He was staring at the cloud of white dust puffing out and floating down to the ground.
“Stop.” His voice had risen an octave or two. “OK. What kind of questions?”
“The woman Dendoncker took. Michaela Fenton. Is she here?”
“I think so.”
“You think?”
“I haven’t seen her. But I heard some other guys talking. It sounded like she was here.”
“Where, exactly?”
“Dendoncker’s half of the building. I think.”
“What kind of building is this?”
“I guess it’s a school, from the way it looks. Was a school. There are no kids here now. I don’t know much else. This is my first time here. I was never allowed through the tunnel before.”
“What does Dendoncker use it for?”
“Like, a warehouse, I think. For his merchandise. The stuff he takes on the planes. I saw the containers. I think there’s a workshop here, too. Maybe an office.”
“What gets made in the workshop?”
The guy looked away. He didn’t answer. I started sawing the plaster again.
“Dendoncker had someone working there. That’s all I know.”
I paused with the knife. “Making bombs?”
“Maybe. Probably. Look, I made sure not to find out. Some things, it’s better not to know.”
“OK. How many people are here?”
“There’s Dendoncker. There are three guys with him. At least. A bunch of locals. Maybe half a dozen. I don’t know them. Haven’t seen them before. I don’t think Dendoncker trusts them all the way. They just do the cooking and the fetching and carrying. Plus the three guys who went to the town. We’re still waiting for them to get back.”
“No need to wait.” I folded the knife and put it back in my pocket. “They won’t be coming.”
I let go of the guy’s leg. He managed to stop his ankle crashing into the ground, but only just. Then he rolled onto all fours and struggled up onto his good foot.
“What happened to them?” The guy hopped around for a minute while he retrieved his crutches.
I shrugged. “Your friends are an accident-prone bunch.”
The guy made a move around the corner. He acted like he was heading back to the desk. Then he spun around. He raised the crutch in his right hand and lunged. He was trying to spear me in the gut. I moved six inches to the side. Grabbed hold midway between the rubber tip and the handle. Stepped forward. And punched him. An uppercut. It lifted the guy right off his feet. His remaining crutch clattered to the ground. His body followed, completely inert. He landed on his back, neatly between the rails. I flipped him over. Secured his wrists with a zip tie. Took his pistol from his waistband. A 1911. It was old, but well maintained. I bent his good leg at the knee. Used another zip tie to fasten it to the belt loop at the back of his pants. Picked him up. Tossed him in the rail truck. And threw his crutches in after him.