The other candidate buildings were almost as complex, and there would be no telling which Dryden would choose until the last moment. The very fact that he was moving toward them was a good sign, though. So far, he was doing as the techs had predicted.
“Come on, asshole,” Gaul said. “Step into the trap.”
*
Dryden coasted through the nearly empty streets. The sky was still ink black, the first hint of dawn probably an hour away. Ahead, the shapes of a few office midrises stood above a sprawl of low-slung buildings—shops, restaurants, warehouses.
He could feel the eyes of the satellites on him like crosshairs. Since leaving the wreck site, he’d thought of little else but the various spy platforms he’d worked with in Ferret—and the performance improvements he’d witnessed during those six years. Several more years had passed since then.
Rachel remained quiet. She sat with her hands in her lap, no doubt nervous but containing it well.
Just ahead, a green light went yellow. Dryden slowed and stopped.
“We’ll be where we’re going in less than a minute,” he said.
Rachel nodded. “I like your plan. It’s … different.”
“It has to be.”
Rachel stared forward through the windshield, looking for the destination.
“How do you know about this place?” she asked.
“My wife and I met there, when we were kids.”
“Is this going to be dangerous? I mean, for the people inside?”
Dryden shook his head. “They practice for this all the time, in case the real thing ever happens. This’ll be just another drill.”
“It’s going to make them really mad, though.”
“I’ll send them a donation when this is all over.”
“Let’s hope.”
*
On the monitors, the pickup got moving again, rolling through the intersection. It coasted along for another thirty seconds, then slowed and pulled to the curb. It was three blocks shy of the hospital, and no closer to any other building the techs had predicted. Instantly they started shuffling their handwritten notes while Lowry pulled up database programs, frantically trying to identify the building Dryden had stopped in front of.
The pickup’s doors opened; Dryden and the girl emerged, already running. They sprinted up the long walkway toward the building’s main entrance. Gaul stared at the monitor showing the widest image of the place. Its layout and profile suggested a single-story hotel: long hallways lined with small rooms. The satellites could roughly image the shapes of bodies inside, reading the infrared right through the roof. The clarity was starkly reduced, to something like a view through pebbled glass, but was still good enough to establish the size and outline of each figure.
All appeared to be asleep, understandably at this hour.
Gaul leaned closer to the nearest monitor. Something about the sleepers bothered him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
“Got it,” Lowry said. “It’s a boarding school.”
The techs traded looks. What the hell kind of place was that to dodge the satellites?
Gaul suddenly understood what had caught his attention about the sleepers: They were small. They were all kids.
“Oh shit,” Gaul said.
*
The doors would all be locked, of course. It didn’t matter. Getting in quietly was not the point, and in fact couldn’t have been further from it. Midsprint, Dryden stooped and picked up a heavy landscaping rock from beside the walkway. As he and Rachel reached the entrance, he heaved it through the glass-block window beside the left door. The suddenly empty frame was too narrow for Dryden to slip through, but Rachel made it easily. A second later she opened the door from inside.
They ran to the nearest hallway intersection, and then Dryden stopped, turning to her.
“You know what to do?” he asked.
Rachel nodded.
“Alright,” Dryden said. “When you get outside, run in the direction we were driving—that’s east. I’ll meet you five blocks from here. But even then, we’re going to keep distance between us for a while.”
“I understand,” she said.
He patted her on the shoulder. “Let’s make some noise.”
They split up down the divergent corridors. Dryden spotted a fire alarm handle twenty yards ahead, but even before he could reach it, the calm was shredded by the hundred-decibel bass drone of the alarm system. Rachel had beaten him to it.
*
Gaul didn’t need audio to know what was happening. Every sleeper in the building jolted awake in perfect unison. It was a surreal thing to watch from an overhead view. Within seconds they flooded into the hallways.
Just like that, the Rachel shape was lost in a sea of similar shapes. Dryden should have been easier to distinguish, being taller than the kids, but with enough people in a confined space, the hallways became solid rivers of blue-white thermal glow. Worse, the shapes of other adults—teachers or whoever the hell lived there full-time—were now converging from various wings of the school, seeking to manage the chaos. There would be no way to distinguish them from Dryden when the crowd exited the building.