“Jesus H. Christ—are those the terrorists?”
“Technically arms dealers to terrorists, but yeah,” I confirm, but offer no more. Duncan seems to be a little in shock, not that I can blame him after the way he’s spent the last thirty minutes.
Duncan stares at me like I’m a riddle to solve, then asks, “Who the hell are you?”
“Clearly not who you thought I was,” I say as I circle the room, ripping the cords off every electrical appliance I can find and throwing them to Bunker.
“Clearly.”
“And who are you?” I ask, stopping long enough to watch his reaction.
Duncan looks genuinely confused. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m asking if you’re friend or foe. Last I heard, you suspected I escaped the room just in time to save myself but not the rest of you.”
“How do you even know about that?” Duncan asks as he starts giving himself a pat-down, probably looking for a bug. Despite the crazy that is happening all around us, watching The Douche have a near breakdown is fucking hilarious. Bunker is busy hog-tying one of the hostiles, but I can hear him snickering.
“Like I said—I’m not your average Carlislian,” I say, trying hard not to laugh so I can mess with his mind just a little more. “So how’s that escape plan you were working on?”
Duncan starts patting down his lower half and stops when he hits his pockets.
“Here. You can have your five dollars back.”
I start tying up the other hostile but not before snatching my money from him, because hey, the Company has me on a tight budget, and I’m hoping I’ll live another day to use that money.
“Why are you here, Douche?” Bunker says, apparently feeling himself now that he’s been made my unofficial partner. Duncan doesn’t say a thing about it, either.
“When they didn’t come back, I had to check it out,” Duncan explains.
“That was either very stupid of you or very brave.”
“Well, after sitting in class for the last half hour wondering whether we were going to die, somebody had to see if there was a chance to run.”
I come this close to taking back my comment about him being possibly very stupid, and telling him how cool it was of him to take that chance, but I just can’t do it. He’s still Duncan. But maybe now I’ll stop thinking of him as The Douche, at least.
“All this time I’ve been hassling you, this is what you could have done to me?” Duncan asks, looking around the room. “You took these guys out with … with what? I don’t suppose you’re packing heat at school.”
“No one’s been ‘packing heat’ since the nineties,” Bunker says as he hog-ties Bad Guy #1 with an extra-long extension cord. “Even I know that. He did it mostly with his bare hands. And I helped.”
I look at Bunk as if to say, Stop talking, but it probably doesn’t matter anymore. What little was left of my cover is long gone, thanks to my stalker making me an internet sensation. Besides, I can tell Duncan’s emotions when he found us were real. He can’t be the hacker, probably isn’t working with her, and he definitely isn’t a gorgeous British girl.
“Look, Duncan, I don’t have time to explain. There are more of these guys on the loose and they’re hunting me down.”
“But why? Who are you?”
I stay quiet for a second as I secure the hands of Bad Guy #2 with a handcuff knot, thinking of how to explain.
“Let’s just say I work for the government.”
Duncan lets that sink in for a second. He looks astonished, or sick to his stomach, I’m not sure which. Then he says, “Are you saying you’re a—”
“I’m saying I have to bounce. Now. The school is locked down, we can’t get out, but I may have a way to contact the outside and get us some help. But there are more where these two came from, at least four more, and when these guys can’t be raised on their radios, one of their friends will come to check. So we have to move.”
“We? Does he ‘work for the government,’ too?” Duncan asks, nodding toward Bunker while making air quotes.
“Yes,” I say, cutting Bunker off before he can explain himself. We don’t have time, and I’ve decided after he had my six with that coat rack, he deserves to be deputized.
“I want to help,” Duncan says, shocking me for the second time today. “Let me come with you.”
“You can help by keeping an eye on our captives. They should be out for thirty minutes to an hour, but you can make sure they stay that way,” I say, handing him my baton. “Use it if they come to.”
“I can do that.” Duncan looks down at the hostiles before he notices the third man slumped against the wall. “Is that another one?”
“No, that’s Maitland,” Bunker says.
“World-Geo Maitland?” Duncan asks, going for a closer look. “Wow. He’s one of them?”
“No. At least, I don’t think so. He was just collateral damage. Don’t worry. He’s still alive,” I say.
Duncan half smiles and asks, “You’re sure?”
Yeah, pretty much no one likes Maitland. For a guy who hasn’t been at the school a whole semester yet, he’s already made a ton of enemies.
“Before you start watch on these guys, go back and let the chem lab know what’s up. Wait—is everyone okay in there?”
“Sure. Physically, anyway. They’re holding up.”
“Good. The main thing is to keep the rooms locked from the inside. As long as everyone stays in the rooms, they’ll be okay. And don’t trust anyone you don’t know,” I say, wincing as I think of Katie. “And be suspicious of people you do. The janitor and the groundskeeper—”
“The ones who look like they spend the whole day at the gym?”
“Right. They aren’t legit. Neither are the two who have Dodson, even though one of them is actually a cop.”
“Yeah, I know about them,” Duncan says. “We heard them on their radios. The real cop is Andrews, the fake cop is Marchuk, and there’s another one called Koval.”
“Koval must be the janitor,” I say, the name sounding vaguely familiar. “Stupid of them to use their names over the radio, though.”
“I think these two aren’t the brightest of the bunch. The one called Koval kept yelling at them every time they used his name. He must be in charge.”
“Marchuk’s in charge, but Koval must be his second-in-command. Good looking out. That’s useful information,” I tell him, surprised to find saying something nice to Duncan isn’t as painful as I’d have thought. I guess being held hostage is a good way to make friends out of foes. And the way Duncan is cheesing, you’d think I was the agency director himself paying the compliment.
“Speaking of staying informed,” Bunker says, reaching into his backpack. “In case things start going south in here…”
Duncan looks as confused by Bunker’s ancient brick of a phone as I was. And how many of those does he carry around, anyway?
Bunker tells Duncan, “It looks like a phone—”
“Not really,” Duncan says.
Bunker ignores Duncan’s assessment and continues, “But works like a walkie-talkie. You’ll be able to contact Peter and me with these.”
Duncan takes the phone, looking doubtful.
“Bunker, leave your hostile’s radio too, so Duncan will know if one of the others is coming.”
Bunk and I put on the ski masks and head for the door.
“Hey, Smith,” Duncan says.
“What?”
“How is this thing really going to go? What’s going to happen to us all?”
I’m thinking this thing is going to go badly, but Duncan doesn’t really want to know that. He wants to believe we’ll all be safe in our beds tonight trying to forget this day ever happened.
“These guys like to work below the radar. They’re taking a chance just being in this country. No way will they compromise themselves any more than they already have by hurting anyone but me.”
Duncan doesn’t look convinced. “If you really believed that, if you truly think you are the only person they’d hurt, wouldn’t you just give yourself up so the rest of us can go free?”