image
image
image

Chapter 3

image

The airport restroom was empty when Bones went in. The spot on his ribs where he’d taken the elbow shot had become increasingly tender, much more so than he would have expected from a glancing contact. The first boarding group was queued up, but there was still twelve minutes until the scheduled departure, and he wasn’t sure when he’d get another chance to check. Besides, it would only take a few seconds.

He stopped in front of the sink, and allowed himself a grin as he gazed at his reflection in the wall mirror. Despite all the action he’d seen recently, he still looked like the same handsome bad-ass who had nearly killed Maddock during SEAL training all those years ago.

Good thing Maddock has mellowed out since then. I’m a good influence on him.

Remembering that he had only a few minutes, he quickly pulled up his shirt and inspected his lower torso. Sure enough, the skin was inflamed and puffy, tender to the touch.

It reminded him of the localized soreness he’d experienced after his last tetanus shot.

His eyebrows came together in a frown. Maybe the “bump” hadn’t been quite so innocent after all.

He pulled his shirt back down and headed for the exit, eager to share this news with Maddock, but when he gripped the door handle and pulled, it remained firmly shut.

He pulled harder. Nothing.

A quick examination revealed that the door was locked, but no amount of force would rotate the bolt into the unlocked position. “What the—”

Somebody screwing with me? He wondered. If so, they picked a bad day for it.

He took a step back then drove his heel forward into the middle of the door. It might as well have been a solid block of concrete.

A chill ran through him as he considered the possibility that this was neither a harmless prank nor an accident. He turned and scanned the room. No windows, just the stalls, sinks, and a paper towel dispenser. He considered ripping the towel dispenser out of the wall and trying to smash in the door with it, but if a full-powered kick didn’t do the trick, he doubted anything else would.

An idea occurred to him and he lunged toward the door and launched a kick at the wall next to it. His foot left a shallow impression, but failed to punch through. He grimaced when a jolt of pain went from his heel up into his lower back.

Concrete behind the drywall. Now I know. Should I try to yell for help?

His entire life of relying on himself told him to fix it himself, but then he remembered that his sister had been kidnapped.

“Maddock!” He shouted, beating the door with his fist. “Maddock, You out there?”

Nothing.

A seed of panic blossomed. He intensified his assault on the door and began screaming.

“Help! Let me out! I’m trapped!”

He kept this up for a couple minutes and then stopped to put his ear to the door. He heard humming and vibration, but no sign that anyone had heard him.

The futile exertion had left him flushed and panting for air. He took a deep, calming breath.

Screw this, I gotta come up with something else.

His eyes went to the ceiling. There were a couple of crevices that probably held security cameras, and he gave each of them the finger. He also saw a smoke detector. He considered trying to disable it, which would likely set off some sort of alarm, but the ceiling was eighteen feet high and he couldn’t see a way to get close.

He looked at his watch again. Eight minutes to go. He put his hand in his pockets, just to see if maybe he had something that could help. There wasn’t much. To get through the security checkpoint, he’d put almost everything he’d brought along in his checked bag—along with his Glock, which probably would have come in pretty handy right now—but he had held onto his Mini Maglite.

That gave him an idea.

He tore the metal paper dispenser off the wall. Kneeling on the ground, he set it with the open back facing upwards and removed all the paper. As quickly as he could, he tore the paper into smaller pieces and shoved them into the dispenser until it was about half full. He rushed over to the sink and ran a small amount of water into the nest of paper, enough to make it damp. Then he returned to the floor and filled the top of the dispenser with dry pieces of paper.

Next, he carefully unscrewed the cap of the flashlight and worked the bulb loose. Using the butt end of the tube as a hammer, he smashed the glass bulb, exposing the wire filament posts. He then reinserted the remains of the bulb into the socket, placed a piece of paper towel directly in contact with the filament, and switched it on.

Nothing happened.

“Crap,” he muttered. “I really thought that would work.”

He tried again and this time, the paper immediately ignited. Ignoring the flames licking at his fingers, he transferred it into the nest of paper in the dispenser.

The paper caught fire as well, and he let go of the foil. Within seconds, a healthy fire was burning. Soon, the flames hit the damp paper and it began to smoke.

He looked at his watch. Five minutes to go.

Waving the dispenser over his head, he positioned himself under the smoke detector. For several long seconds, nothing happened, but then, just when he was about to give up, the alarm sounded.

And the door lock snapped open.

Bones rushed to the door and sprinted back toward the gate. Strangely, nobody seemed to be reacting to the alarm siren. After a few seconds, the alarm fell silent. The woman at the entrance frowned and looked at her watch as he offered his boarding pass.

“Mr. Bonebrake? The door closes in thirty seconds.”

Bones offered his best smile. “Just in time.”

Under her disapproving gaze, he jogged down the ramp and reached the door to the aircraft just as it was starting to close. He ducked in past the surprised flight attendant and found his seat in the fifth row next to Maddock.

Maddock looked at him. “You must have really had to go.”

“You have no idea.” Bones closed his eyes and leaned his head back. He vaguely recalled that there was something he wanted to tell Maddock about, but couldn’t for the life of him remember what it was.