00:11
She had been thinking about land. A requirement for a large city. But not necessarily for a populous one. What if a city was incredibly dense because land was at a premium? The answer that would have come much quicker if not for the circumstances popped into her head.
00:09
She sucked in a deep breath, scrambled to her feet, and began punching numbers on the keypad. Eyes stinging and watering from the gas, she had to blink several times to be sure she didn’t accidentally fat-finger the buttons.
8-6-5-9-6
The safe door opened. She snatched the gas mask lying inside and flung herself back onto the floor, where the air was still breathable, grateful she’d figured out Tokyo was the biggest city on earth. She went through the process of pulling on, tightening, and clearing the mask before attempting a breath.
00:04
The face shield covered her stinging eyes, providing blessed relief, and she could breathe without any discomfort. She swiveled her head to see how the others were doing. Toro was just pulling his mask on, and the Colonel and several others were doing the same. She counted three of their group who did not. They were standing in front of the keypads, frantically pushing buttons.
Another thought occurred to her. Why the countdown? The gas would surely poison anyone who didn’t punch in the answer quickly enough. And then the reason came to her in a sickening flash of insight.
00:01
She bellowed a warning. “Hit the deck!”
They either couldn’t hear the words through her mask or didn’t react.
00:00
A fusillade of shrapnel burst out from the keypads that hadn’t been opened. The explosion sent chunks of metal directly into the bodies of the three men who had been standing in front of their respective panels.
They collapsed to the ground, blood, flesh, and bone spewed everywhere. Dani was forcibly reminded of the aftermath of an IED that had claimed the lives of some of her fellow soldiers.
Judging by the rumble in the walls around and above her, as well as the dust fluttering to the ground, she concluded the cells where the detonations had occurred were everywhere except below her. She had gone down several flights of stairs during her walk in the dark. Perhaps she was on the lowest level.
“You bastard!” one of the men shouted at the overhead camera in his cell.
The red gas around them was dissipating quickly, and Dani heard an HVAC system thundering at full capacity.
The man who had yelled at the speaker lurched forward, screaming a stream of obscenities. He reached out and wrapped his hands around the bars. At first Dani thought he was shaking them like an inmate in a prison movie. She could see the muscles in his formfitted black nylon spandex suit flex as the cage around him rattled.
With dawning horror, she realized he was being electrocuted. Teeth gnashed, eyes bugged out, hair on end, he was welded to the metal that was killing him. A few seconds later, his hair began to smoke. Then his suit.
“Stop it!” the Colonel shouted.
But it did not stop. Not for three full minutes. Finally, the smoking husk that had been one of their group slumped to the ground in a smoldering heap.
While the man had been dying, Dani had taken renewed stock of her situation. Four of their number were now dead. Their demise had been brutal and grisly. She shifted her gaze to glance at the Colonel on the monitor. He stood in stoic resolve, but the color had drained from his face. This had not been part of his plan. She felt certain he was equally trapped.
She recalled touching the metal bars of her cell shortly after they rose up from the floor, and nothing had happened to her. The current had been cut off at a certain point, allowing the man who had been electrocuted to fall to the ground, which meant whoever was in control had the ability to electrify the bars at will. It would be wise to assume other things could be electrified as well. Then there was the matter of the gas. Noxious fumes could be introduced into their environment and then cleared using a remote system. Lights had also been extinguished and switched back on.
She concluded that her undercover assignment with the FBI had radically shifted. She was now in a combat situation. The enemy had total control of the battle space, which put her at a severe disadvantage. Unlike in her military deployments, she was not with a trusted team of elite soldiers who would work as a well-trained unit. Instead, she was with a group of homicidal mercenaries who would gladly kill her if they knew her true identity. Maybe even if they didn’t. They had worked together before, but she was an outsider. She still had to abide by the rules set out for her, but no one else would operate under the same constraints. How long would it be until she was forced to decide between her oath of office and her life?
“Now you all understand that I’m serious,” the voice said into the silence that followed as they all stared at the group video feed. “I have hidden clues for you to solve in order to locate the exit.”
Dani pictured all of them scurrying through a maze, looking for crumbs. Their captor was terrorizing and degrading them at every turn.
“Some clues lead to food, water, weapons, and a map. Things you will need to survive . . . because there are many ways to die.”
What kind of sick game was this? Dani had received instruction in psychology as part of her military and law enforcement training, but this level of thinking was beyond anything she had encountered in the field or the classroom.
“Finding a clue or supplies gets you closer to escape but also makes you a target. Only one person leaves alive. That person will have to outmaneuver, torture, and kill your former partners to get all the clues needed to escape.”
Dani considered the rules of engagement. Whoever was behind this wanted them to spill each other’s blood. What if they all chose to cooperate instead? They could search for clues, pool information, and unlock the exit. Someone with enough time and resources to orchestrate the capture of twelve trained assassins would have planned for that possibility. The voice had promised only the first person out would live, guaranteeing that her fellow captives would play for keeps.
“You are all paid killers,” the voice said, echoing her thoughts. “Like all animals, you only care about survival, but only one of you will have it. Are you smart enough? Strong enough? Ruthless enough?”
This comment told Dani her cover was still intact. Whoever was behind this believed she was Nicola Corazón, disgraced Army veteran and now one of the Colonel’s assassins. Should she mention her true identity now? Would their captor make a different decision, knowing that a federal agent was in the mix? Based on what he had already disclosed, Dani assumed anyone who would make such elaborate plans to watch brutality and death wouldn’t have an attack of conscience upon learning an innocent person was present. In fact, that revelation might put her in everyone’s crosshairs.
“Your cage will open in sixty seconds. At that point, the search will begin. You will hunt for clues, you will hunt for supplies, but most of all, you will hunt each other. Remember, every kill gets you one step closer to freedom.” After a brief pause, the voice went on. “You are not allowed to take anything from your cell. Leave your street clothes, the gas mask, and the night-vision equipment behind.”
There was more going on than whoever was behind this was telling them, and the instructions about the night vision applied only to the Colonel, supporting her assumption that he had made a powerful enemy. If it was simply about dealing out justice to people who had committed heinous crimes, their captor had the resources to simply have them all killed one at a time. This scenario had been devised to force them to brutalize each other. Why?
Thoughts of the group brought Toro to mind. He was the only one who knew her true identity. After this morning’s meeting, he also understood that she would be operating under the FBI’s policies and directives. Even though she now considered herself a combatant, unlike the others, she would be limited in her actions. Toro was supposed to be doing the same, but would he in a life-or-death situation?
If he helped her, he could expect more leniency, but if he killed her, he could escape and disappear permanently. No one would ever know what had happened to her. They would both eventually be presumed dead, and he would be free to live overseas in a country with no extradition to the US. This could be Toro’s best and last chance at freedom.