|
40
David had his gun drawn as he peeked around the corner on his vulnerable high perch. He saw that the elevator door up one floor and to the right was open and empty. Only a dim illumination came from an emergency light in the 10th floor hotel hallway beyond. David still couldn’t believe his eyes. Moments before, commandos had been machine gunning them; then two of the commandos had been shot from below, their bodies had dropped silently into the shaft, and the rest of the skinheads had withdrawn from the open door.
“Don’t tell me we have to climb up there,” Mattoon said dispiritedly, thinking several steps ahead. He held his gun limply at his side, and wiped sweat from his forehead with one sleeve.
David kept his gun trained on the door above, but he peered down over the ledge. Something was going on below. “Hey, this is David Gordon! Don’t shoot!”
“David who?” came a voice from below.
“Gordon. Captain, U.S. Army. Under orders from General Devereaux.”
“Captain Gordon, Sir! Glad to see you. I’m Sergeant Goldman. Have you got our man up there?”
“Safe and sound.”
Moments later, three sooty-faced, grinning men came up the shaft using some sort of clamp device that allowed them to hoist themselves a foot at a time. They had light gear, and small assault rifles strapped close to their bodies in addition to M-16’s on their backpacks.
“Mike!” one shouted. David looked up and saw fanatical eyes in the high doorway.
The man named Mike swung a few inches to his left and released a spray of rounds. A commando dropped his rifle into the shaft, then followed in a slow, silent pirouette of death. Acrid smoke drifted in the shaft.
“That was close.” The three point men climbed up onto the shelf. They all shook hands. David quickly explained the tactical situation. “They could come swarming any minute,” he told them. “Especially that door up there.”
“We’ll keep our eyes on that door,” Mike agreed.
Mattoon said: “If I get out of this alive, I’m running for my old Senate seat as an unaffiliated citizen.”
Mike said: “Why don’t we change the Constitution so this won’t happen again?”
“Naw,” Goldman said, “forget changing the Constitution, man. That’s the whole drill. Leave it alone.”
“Heads up!” the third soldier said. A wooden platform arrived, driven by one soldier dressed like the first two, his face also blackened The platform was not quite as wide as the elevator. Mike nudged Mattoon: “Hop on there, Sir, quick!” While the big man froze in fear at jumping across the abyss, the three soldiers tied ropes around his waist and shoulders. “Here you go, Mattoon. If you drop, we’ve got you. All you got to do is jump for the cable!”
Mattoon rose, flexing his knees. “Well, I’m getting good at this.”
Just then a commando face appeared in the doorway above. And another.
“Go go go,” Mike screamed, shooting at the commandos.
Mattoon jumped, caught the cable, and was whisked out of sight.
Two or three minutes, the platform appeared again with two men on it. “Captain!” Mike shouted. “Now!” Mike and the other man extended their free hands to help him.
David rose and jumped.
As he landed beside Mike, Mike’s partner took a bullet in the chest and spun, with a stunned expression, out of sight into the shaft.
The cable swung back and forth. Mike raised an Uzi and sprayed upward. “Take us down!” he screamed into the shaft.
More shots came from above. David heard two bullets sing past his ears. This is it, he thought. I’m gonna die any minute now.
Goldman was hit several times and slumped on the platform above.
Suddenly, there was an enormous explosion. The shaft filled with a blinding, choking white dust that rose in a column and instantly enveloped David. Coughing and gasping for air, David clung to the swaying platform, unable to see six inches before his face. The platform bounced violently up and down as it swung, and he thought with panic of the long drop down into the shaft—to a certain death.
His worst fear was that he might never see Tory again.
|