“Perhaps the simplest approach is best. We use ourselves as bait. We make some noise. Talk loudly. Sound like easy prey.”
Pendergast nodded. “Like the ptarmigan, feigning a broken wing, drawing off the fox. And how will we know it’s there?”
“We’ll use the flashlight intermittently. Wave it about, shine it down the hall. We’ll use the low setting; it may irritate the creature, but it won’t rebuff it. But it will allow us to see it. The creature will think we’re looking around, trying to find our way. Then, when it comes for us, I switch to the miner’s light and you start shooting.”
Pendergast thought for a moment. “What about the possibility of the creature coming from the other direction? From behind us?”
“The hall dead-ends in the staff entrance to the Hall of Pacific Peoples,” Margo pointed out.
“So we’ll be trapped at the end of a cul-de-sac,” Pendergast protested. “I don’t like it.”
“Even if we weren’t trapped,” Margo said, “we wouldn’t be able to escape if you miss your shots. According to the Extrapolator, the thing can move almost as fast as a greyhound.”
Pendergast thought for a moment. “You know, Margo, this plan might work. It’s deceptively simple and uncluttered, like a Zurbarán still life or a Bruckner symphony. If this creature devastated a SWAT team, it probably feels there isn’t much more that human beings can do to it. It wouldn’t be as cautious.”
“And it’s wounded, which may slow it down.”
“Yes, it’s wounded. I think D’Agosta shot it, and the SWAT team may have gotten one or two additional rounds into it. Maybe I hit it, as well; there’s no way to be sure. But, Margo, being wounded makes it infinitely more dangerous. I would rather stalk ten healthy lions than one wounded one.” He straightened his shoulders and felt for his gun. “Lead on, please. Standing here in the dark with this bundle on my back makes me very uneasy. From now on, we use only the flashlight. Be very careful.”
“Why don’t you give me the miner’s light, so you’ll be free to use the gun?” Margo suggested. “If we meet up with the beast unexpectedly, we’ll have to drive it away with the light.”
“If it’s badly wounded, I doubt anything will drive it away,” replied Pendergast. “But here it is.”
They moved quietly down the corridor, around a corner, and through a service door leading into the Hall of Ancient Mammals. It seemed to Margo that her stealthy footsteps echoed like gunshots across the polished stone floor. Row upon row of glass cases gleamed dully in the glow of the flashlight: giant elk, saber-toothed cats, dire wolves. Mastodon and wooly mammoth skeletons reared in the center of the gallery. Margo and Pendergast moved cautiously toward the Hall’s exit, Pendergast’s gun at the ready.
“See that door at the far end, the one marked STAFF ONLY?” Margo whispered. “Beyond that is the corridor housing Security Command, Staff Services, and the Computer Room. Around the corner is the hallway where you can set up your blind.” She hesitated. “If the creature is already there ...”
“... I’ll wish I’d stayed in New Orleans, Ms. Green.” Stepping through the staff entrance into Section 18, they found themselves in a narrow hallway lined with doors. Pendergast swept the area with his flashlight: nothing.
“That’s it,” said Margo, indicating a door to their left. “Security Command.” Margo could briefly hear the murmur of voices as they passed. They passed another door marked CENTRAL COMPUTER.
“They’re sitting ducks in there,” Margo said. “Should we—?”
“No,” came the response. “No time.”
They turned the corner and stopped. Pendergast played his light down the hallway.
“What’s that doing there?” he asked.
Halfway down the hall, a massive steel security door flashed mockingly at them in the glow of the flashlight.
“The good Doctor was mistaken,” Pendergast said. “Cell Two must cut this corridor in half. That’s the edge of the perimeter, there.”
“What’s the distance?” Margo said in a monotone.
Pendergast pursed his lips. “I’d guess a hundred, a hundred and twenty-five feet, at the most.”
She turned to the agent. “Is that enough room?”
Pendergast remained motionless. “No. But it’ll have to do. Come on, Ms. Green, let’s get into position.”
The Mobile Command Unit was getting stuffier. Coffey unbuttoned his shirt and loosened his tie with a savage tug. The humidity had to be 110 percent. He hadn’t seen rain like this in twenty years. The drains were bubbling like geysers, the tires of the emergency vehicles up to their hubcaps in water.
The rear door swung open, revealing a man wearing SWAT fatigues.
“Sir?”
“What do you want?”
“The men would like to know when we’re going back
“Going back in?” Coffey yelled. “Are you out of your mind? Four of your men were just killed in there, torn apart like frigging hamburger!”