Fenton started moving again. With some difficulty. I followed, keeping to her pace. It seemed futile. The corridor must be a dead end. Like beyond Dendoncker’s office. The exit was boarded up tight. I’d seen it when I was searching for an alternative way in. But as we went farther I realized there was a difference. The final classroom’s wall didn’t run straight. Not all the way to the perpendicular wall. The was a recess at the very end. A setback of about a foot. To draw attention away from another door. A solid wooden one. With a sign attached. It said El Conserje. The Janitor.
The door was locked. But not in any serious way. It only took one kick to open it. Inside a set of stairs led down to another basement. They were wooden. Painted white, but less worn than the ones running from the kitchen down to the tunnel. I turned on the light and started to descend. Fenton followed. The space at the bottom was divided into two areas. One-third was for cleaning equipment and supplies. Two-thirds were for maintenance and repair. Or they had been. Now the tool benches and equipment lockers had been pushed to one end. Another army cot had been set up in the space that had been created. There was an intravenous drip stand next to it. A tube ran down from a bag of clear fluid. It was hooked up to the arm of a guy on the bed. His body was covered by a sheet. So were his legs and his other arm. But his head was visible. His face was swollen and cut and covered with scabs and bruises and burns. There was a huge lump on his forehead. Big chunks of his hair were missing. Fenton screamed. She pushed past me. Rushed to the bed. She looked like she was going to pull the guy into her arms. But she stopped herself. Took hold of his hand. And said one word. Softly. With a voice full of guilt and pain.
“Michael.”
Chapter 50
I moved closer to the bed, too. I thought maybe the guy in it was dead. I was worried about how to get Fenton out of there if that was the case. But after a moment one of his eyes flickered open.
“Mickey.” His voice was dry and scratchy and barely audible. “You got my warning. You came?” Then his eye closed and his head rolled to the side.
Fenton checked his pulse. “It’s OK. He’s still with us. Help me get him up.”
* * *
—
It was a tough call. Michael didn’t look in any kind of shape to be moved. I would rather have brought the medics to him. But Dendoncker was on my mind. He couldn’t know that Fenton had found out about Michael. And evidently Michael had information that Dendoncker wanted. So Dendoncker would come back for him. Or he would send some guys. Either way, we were in no position to defend that cellar. Not for any significant length of time. Which made evacuation the lesser of two evils.
I picked Michael up and carried him to the stairs, still wrapped in the sheet. Fenton followed with the IV bag. We moved slowly and gently, trying not to shake or jostle him, and we paused when we reached the corridor. We detoured into the room she’d been kept in and I laid Michael down on the bed. Fenton stayed with him while I went back to the glass corridor. I used one of the Uzis to blast out the windows. Half a magazine on each side. To allow the gas to dissipate faster. Then I went back to the room and called Wallwork. He answered immediately. There was no hint of sleep in his voice. I guessed he was with the TEDAC crew and they were pulling an all-nighter. I told him Fenton was safe so they were clear to move the truck whenever they wanted. I told him we had recovered a casualty, and asked him how long it would take to send some agents to the medical center in Los Gemelos. When Dendoncker discovered Michael was missing he wouldn’t take it lying down. He would send out a search party, and knowing the condition Michael was in, the closest hospital was the obvious place to start.
Wallwork took a minute to figure the timing and distances. Then he said, “I’ll have to make some calls. But best guess? A couple of agents could be there inside four hours. If you’re worried about the guy, can you babysit until then? Unofficially?”
“I don’t see why not.” Maybe my luck would change, I thought. Maybe Dendoncker would show up in person to look for Michael. Mansour, too. I hated to think of them walking around free. “How’s it going at your end?”
“Good. Just got off the phone with Quantico. After what I told them they’re putting a major effort together to bring Dendoncker in. A full-court press. Worldwide, if necessary.”
“And the bomb?”
“My guy’s just finishing up. He’s done inspecting. Now he’s getting the device ready for transport. We’re flying it out first thing.”