Kate looked up at the sound of the second explosion. She tried the door again. Still locked. She thought she smelled smoke. Her mind raced through Dorian’s crazed allegations and the videos of the children walking into that massive structure… with the packs strapped to their backs.
The door swung open, and Martin Grey stepped quickly into the room. He grabbed Kate by the arm and pulled her out into the hall.
“Martin,” Kate began, but he cut her off.
“Stay quiet. We have to hurry,” Martin said as he led her down the white-walled corridor. They turned a corner, and the corridor ended in what looked like an airlock on a space station. They proceeded through the airlock and a gust rushed past them as they ventured into the large room beyond — some sort of hangar or warehouse with a high, arched ceiling. Martin squeezed her arm and led her to a stack of hard plastic crates where they knelt and waited in silence. She heard voices at the end of the room and the engines of heavy equipment — forklifts maybe.
“Stay here,” Martin said.
“Martin—”
“In a minute,” Martin whispered as he got to his feet and ran to the men.
Kate heard his footfalls stop abruptly as he reached the men. His voice rang with an authority and force Kate had never heard from her adoptive father. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Unloadin—”
“Sloane’s called for all personnel at the North Entrance.”
“What? We were told—”
“The station’s been breached. If it falls, whatever you’re doing here won’t matter. He’s called for you. You can stay here if you like. It’s your funeral.”
Kate heard more footfalls, moving toward her; then they passed her and moved out another airlock. There was just one set of footfalls now — Martin. He walked deeper into the hangar and spoke again. “He’s called for everyone—”
“Who’s going to control the site—”
“Gentlemen, why do you think I’m here?”
More footfalls, running, an airlock opening and closing, and Martin was back. “Come quickly, Kate.”
Martin marched her past rows of crates and a makeshift control station of some kind, with a bank of computers and a wall of screens. They showed a long ice corridor and the opening she had seen the children walk through.
“Please Martin, tell me what’s going on.”
Martin’s eyes were soft, sympathetic. “Get into this suit. I’ll tell you all I can in the seconds we have left.” He motioned to a white, puffy space suit hanging on the wall beside a group of lockers. Kate began slipping into the suit, and Martin looked away from her as he spoke.
“I’m so sorry, Kate. I’m the one that forced you to produce results. And when you did… I kidnapped those children. I did it because we needed them—”