“What are you saying?” Hargrave asked.
“The floors look like concrete, and the walls seem to be a combination of concrete and metal painted battleship gray, with some exposed pipes attached. There’s no natural light coming into the frame, and the cage around the bare light bulb on the wall looks like something straight out of the Cold War era.”
“So our current working theory is that they are in an underground space?” Patel said. “Like a midcentury nuclear facility or fallout shelter?”
“Even decommissioned nuclear facilities are strictly controlled.” Hargrave looked dubious. “And a shelter would have to be massive to have that many rooms and corridors.”
“It’s the only actionable intelligence we have at the moment,” Wu said, undeterred. He shifted his gaze to Johnson, who had been quietly working at her terminal during the briefing. “Can you get a list of fallout shelters built by the government during the forties through the eighties?”
“Why built by the government?” she asked.
“I can’t imagine any private citizen or group with enough money to create an underground facility this big. It would take permits, engineers, heavy equipment, and hundreds of people to accomplish. That would add up to millions even back then.”
“On it, sir.” She bent back to her computer.
Hargrave gave him an appreciative nod. “I see your point. Keep me apprised of any developments.”
Wu watched the assistant director leave, aware that he would be on a conference call to Washington within minutes. How would those among the highest echelon of law enforcement accept the knowledge that an FBI agent and the civilian she was responsible for were combatants in a deadly game? A contest watched by people on the dark web around the world, people whose votes sealed the fates of real human beings they believed to be virtual. What would happen if they discovered they were unwitting participants in a modern-day blood sport where real gladiators died?
Wu considered the gladiators who had fought in ancient Roman amphitheaters for the entertainment of crowds that gathered to watch. They were usually slaves, prisoners of war, or people condemned for committing crimes. The game’s developer was making sure a crowd was watching, but Vega and Toro were not slaves or POWs, so what crime did he believe they had committed to earn a place in his coliseum?
CHAPTER 42
Dani turned to face Toro, prepared for an attack. She looked into his inscrutable dark eyes, unable to read his expression. She viewed the situation from his perspective and could see how a chance at freedom and a million dollars might make him reconsider their alliance. Time to set him straight.
“Thinking about taking Nemesis up on the offer?” she asked him. “Because you won’t live to collect the bounty if you try.”
“Got to admit,” Toro said. “He made it tempting.”
She gave him a mock pout. “And here I thought we were friends.”
He visibly relaxed. “I’m not going to kill you,” he said quietly.
“At least not yet.” She made the statement lightly but wanted him to know she hadn’t let her guard down despite his attempt at reassurance.
“You’re right,” he said. “Not yet.”
“You suck, Toro.”
“Back at you.”
That settled, they made their way down the corridor, carefully checking each open door they passed. As soon as they turned the corner and started down another hall, metal bars slammed down behind them.
“What now?” Toro said, echoing her thoughts.
The walls around them slid down into the floor, disappearing to reveal a vast room.
And five other people split into two groups lining opposite walls.
Dani recognized Guapo, Jock, the Colonel, and two more of his men she’d seen at the hangar in New Jersey. She reflexively bent to pull the gun from the top of her boot, hiding it behind her back until she knew how the others would react. Based on the glares directed at her, she concluded none of the others had a gun, or they would have shot her where she stood.
She thought back to the announcement Nemesis had made to the others. He’d described her as a spy and condemned Toro for bringing her to their doorstep but never mentioned her affiliation with law enforcement.
Why not? What was he hiding?
She pushed aside thoughts of their captor’s motives and scanned the area. They were divided into three groups, each on a different side of a much larger room. There was a metal ladder bolted to the wall on the fourth side, where no one was located. A bottle of water sat on the floor at the foot of the ladder, which led up to a balcony circling the perimeter of the room above them. She could also make an educated guess about the patchwork of metal squares covering every inch of the floor except the outer perimeter, where they were all standing.
Apparently their captor had herded them toward this spot for a confrontation. Coming from different directions, they were prevented from direct physical contact by the squares, which no one seemed willing to step on.
The voice Dani had come to dread reverberated through the space around them. “When the game began, there were thirteen,” Nemesis said. “You are the only survivors. We’ll see how many of you are left after the next challenge.”
Dani looked around at the others and read her own apprehension in their grim expressions. Some of them would not leave this space alive.
“Your objective is to get across the room in one piece,” Nemesis said, allowing a moment for them to absorb the implied threat before continuing. “As you may have guessed, the floor is covered in pressure plates. If you step on the correct squares, you can cross safely. Your reward is the water, but you have to get to it first. Once you do that, you can climb up the ladder to get to the next level. As you can see, there’s no going back.”
All paths of retreat had been blocked by bars. They were trapped together in a cage, forced to use their wits and cunning to escape the room or die trying.
“Your clue is on the message board,” Nemesis said.
Words glowed on a rectangular sign beside the exit door.
IF YOU FOLLOW THE SEQUENCE OF THE SQUARES RATIONALLY, YOU’RE GOLDEN. IF YOU DON’T, YOU’RE TOAST.
Dani waited for more, but Nemesis had stopped talking. The oddly worded phrase must have some significance beyond the literal meaning.
“I can’t believe we have to figure out another damned clue,” Toro muttered to her, then called out to the others. “Why don’t we work together for a change? We could all get across the squares and share the water after we get out of the room.”
A derisive combination of laughter, obscenities, and rude gestures met his suggestion.
“You gave it a try,” she said to him. “Can’t say I’m surprised at their reaction. You and I are at the top of their hit list after Nemesis called me a spy.”
She took advantage of her first opportunity to see the others in action. Their response to this situation would give her valuable intel about their capabilities and limitations. She and Toro occupied the side directly across from the ladder. The two men whose code names she didn’t know were on the side to her left, while Guapo, Jock, and the Colonel lined the wall to her right.
Raised voices drew her attention. The two men on the left were shouting and pointing at each other.
“Guess they’re having a difference of opinion about how to proceed,” Toro said to her. “We’re all used to working independently. When we’re together, the Colonel’s in charge.”
“Only this time, the Colonel isn’t on their team,” she observed.
As a Ranger, she’d been trained to follow orders but also to lead others and to operate independently when necessary. These two knew little about teamwork and were rudderless without a leader.
She glanced at the Colonel, who watched the argument in silence, flanked by Guapo and Jock. His gaze shifted to her, and she sensed the frank appraisal in his hard expression. He seemed to view her as more of a threat than the others. If he knew her true background, he would have been even more concerned.
Before she could dwell on the Colonel any further, the squabble between the two men on the left escalated. Without warning, one of them planted his hands on the other’s chest and shoved. The second man screamed, arms windmilling as he keeled over backward.
The instant his body touched the pressure plates, the air sizzled and crackled with high-voltage electricity. His entire body spasmed and jerked until the current stopped, apparently switched off from a control room somewhere in the facility. They all stared as smoke curled up from the man’s inert form.
If she had known their argument would go this far, she would have pointed her gun at the men and ordered them to stand down. Now the man who had pushed his cohort was alone, and there was nothing to be gained by revealing that she had a weapon, a trump card she would keep up her sleeve as long as possible.