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Mrs. Gunther motioned for us to head for the door. I glanced desperately around the diner hoping that someone else had noticed the gun or that I might get someone’s attention. Everyone was busy doing their own thing, and not paying the least bit of attention to us.
Matt nodded to Mrs. Gunther as if to ask, “Can we take her?”
I shook my head slightly. Even if we could get her down, she could easily shoot one of us – or someone else in the diner - before we could get her gun away from her.
“We’re not going anywhere with you.” Trinity put her hands on her hips and shouted. “You wouldn’t dare do anything here.”
A few of the movie watchers shushed her for interrupting their movie, but just went back to watching it.
I wasn’t so sure what Mrs. Gunther would dare to do. The movie was in the middle of a loud laser war and the swirling lights left the room with a surreal feeling. Anybody who did witness what was going on would just think it was some fans goofing off. Besides, Mrs. Gunther had proved how ruthless she was already by drugging Matt and me and kidnapping Dr. Kestler.
Mrs. Gunther’s hand slid toward her gun.
“Trinity.” I quickly put my hand on Trinity’s shoulder. My heart was pounding hard against my chest. “Don’t test her!”
“That’s right.” Mrs. Gunther chuckled gruffly. “Just ask your boyfriend what I dare to do. Out the front door, all of you.”
“But- but, I'm not with them, honest!” Winston whined, putting his hands up in front of him. “I don't even like them.”
“I don't like them either. Keep moving.” Mrs. Gunther backtracked to our table and picked up the notebook Matt and I had been writing in.
I winced and blew a sigh through my nose. If she looked in that book, there would be no doubt about what we had been up to. Not that there was anything I could do to stop her, or any way I could see to escape her. Leaving the diner with an armed terrorist was stupid, but challenging her could bring danger to everyone in the packed diner.
“Shut up, Winston,” I pushed the words through my teeth. “For once, will you just shut up.”
Winston glared at me and opened his mouth as if to retort, but as his eyes tracked something behind me, he paled and closed his mouth again.
“You've been busy boys again, haven't you?” Contempt dripped from Mrs. Gunther's voice as she poked me in the side with the barrel of her gun. “The Snake should have let me use poison in those cookies. Don't tempt me to correct that mistake.”
A bolt of fear hit me harder than the pain in my ribs.
“Last time. Move, or I'll be content to take only three of you with me.”
Not even Winston could miss the meaning of her threat. All four of us obeyed, weaving our way through the busy diner to the front door. Matt tried to appear tough, but fear glowed brightly in his brown eyes, and he looked very pale. Trinity bravely tried to cover her fear with a mask of anger and indignation. Winston looked like he was one more shock away from either passing out or screaming like a baby. My heart raced, but I forced myself to calm down. If we panicked, we would never get out of this mess.
Dear God, Help us. Rising panic threatened any attempt I made to think of a way out of this mess. Help us to escape. Help us to be brave.
I took a deep breath to relax. And another. It helped, a little. Focusing wasn't quite as difficult, at least. I trusted God to give us an opportunity to escape, but we would have to be on the lookout for it.
As we left the diner, Mrs. Gunther continued to prod me every so often with her pistol. Each time, fear ran up my back like an electrical charge. No one had ever pointed a gun at me before; it was not an experience I ever wanted to repeat.
We crossed the busy street quickly and stood in front of Davis Janitorial Supply. I swallowed hard. Once we were inside, Mrs. Gunther could do anything to us, and no one would know. If only there were a way to let SATURN know where we were!
If only! An idea sparked in my head. If I could only drop my wallet in front of the building, perhaps someone would find it and turn it in.
Right, or maybe they’ll throw it away after stealing what little money I have left.
Seeing no better option, and more than willing to risk the two one-dollar bills I had left in my wallet, I slowly slid my hand toward my back pocket. Please don't let her notice. The tips of my fingers had just brushed against the smooth leather when Mrs. Gunther jabbed me again – hard. I bit back a cry of pain as I jerked my hand out of my pocket.
“Don’t even think about it, Spy Boy,” she growled. “Try another stunt like that, and I’ll shoot all four of you as soon as we get inside!”
I rubbed my ribs where she had poked me. Desperation tightened my throat. If something didn’t happen soon, we would have little chance of leaving Davis Janitorial alive. If Mrs. Gunther was part of the group who planted the bomb in my parents’ plane, she would have no qualms about killing us, too. I paced my breathing carefully to keep from hyperventilating.
Dear God, save us! I repeated over and over in my mind. Partly as a prayer, but partly to help keep myself from thinking about how much trouble we were in.
“I'm not going in there,” Winston shrieked when we reached the doors to Davis Janitorial Supply. “What kind of idiot do you think I am?”
“Are you kidding me?” Matt snapped, grabbing Winston by the arm and squeezing tightly. “What part of this is not clear to you? She has a gun, you incredible moron.”
Winston hesitated, as he considered the gun still grinding into my ribs. “I'm not the moron, you guys are. This is your mess; I refuse to be involved.”
“You're already involved, Whiny.” Mrs. Gunther took a threatening step toward Winston, pushing me along with her. I arched my back away as she dug the barrel deeper and pain radiated through my side. “Now go inside or you and your friend gets it here.”
“Cadet McCully is certainly not my friend,” Winston muttered, but he stopped protesting and opened the door.
The showroom of Davis Janitorial looked like a normal shop, with aisles for chemicals and cleaning equipment filling the large room. A dark-haired young woman with a hard expression stood behind the check-out counter. Mrs. Gunther no longer made any attempt to hide the gun as she led us to the back room, but the girl didn’t seem to care. It was as if she saw thugs threatening people with guns every day.
If this was really a terrorist front, she probably did.
Perhaps Winston had been right to refuse to go inside. Now that we were here, we were cut off from any hope of escaping. The same hopelessness I felt began to creep over the others' faces. Lord, I got them all into this, please help me get them out.
Mrs. Gunther led us to an elevator at the back of the storeroom, prodded us inside, and hit the “B” button.
“Where are you taking us?” Trinity's voice shook and she clutched her locket tightly in her fist as we all piled into the elevator.
“To see the Snake.” Mrs. Gunther grinned an ugly, stiff grin as the elevator doors slid open to reveal a long hallway lined with tightly closed steel doors. She motioned us out of the elevator with her gun. “After you.”
“You can’t do this to me.” Winston balked at the elevator door. “Do you know who my father is?”
“I don’t care if he’s the President of the United States.” Mrs. Gunther glared at him. “Even he couldn’t get you out of here.”
“I have money!” Winston’s whine rose to a wail. “Just name your price – anything.”
“You can take that up with the Snake.” Not taking Winston’s bait, Mrs. Gunther snarled at the frightened cadet. She took the gun out of my side and waved it at Winston. “Now shut up.”
Winston blanched and glared at me as his kidnapping was somehow my fault. Anger rose up inside me. If anything, our situation was his fault. If he hadn’t been too busy making a scene in the diner, we might have had a chance to escape.
My anger faded as guilt rose in its place. Winston had a point. I had gotten them all involved, well, maybe indirectly. Perhaps this was really all my fault. I shook off my grim thoughts. Neither blaming myself or getting angry at Winston were going to get us out of here. I needed to focus on a way to escape.
Mrs. Gunther led us to the end of the hall, which intersected with another hall to form a T. I paid careful attention to the way back to the elevator in case an opportunity to escape presented itself. She forced us down the right arm of the “T” to a steel door at the end of the stark, white hall. Keeping her gun pointed at us, she pushed a button on the intercom at the right of the door.
“Gunther here, Boss.” She kept her eyes and gun focused on us.
“You have them, then?” A sinister voice crackled over the intercom.
“Yes, sir.” Mrs. Gunther gave us a mean smile. “All four of them.”
“Bring them in. I wish to speak with them myself.”
I bit my lip nervously and glanced at Matt. No matter what we did, we just seemed to get deeper and deeper into trouble. Chris had warned us about the Snake, but Chris wasn't here now, and we were about the face the man who had blown up my parents' plane.
Matt returned my gaze steadily. I could see by the fierce glint in his brown eyes that he was still ready for a fight, in spite of the hopelessness of the situation. I shook my head slightly. We would never survive an outright war in a terrorist’s hideout. My still-aching side was a good reminder that they were armed, and we were not.
The steel door swung open silently and Mrs. Gunther prodded us into the dimly lit room. The room was well furnished and decorated like a CEO’s office, not at all like what I had expected a terrorist’s office to look like. In the movies, they always had guns or exotic decorations all over the place.
I could make out the silhouette of a man sitting behind a large desk, but the dim lighting made it impossible to see his face and made an already frightening situation seem downright freaky.
“Teenagers?” the silhouette hissed angrily. “You bring me teenagers? Don't tell me Agent Marshall wasn't with them at least.”
“No, sir.” Mrs. Gunther pushed me, then Matt, forward with her gun. “These are the two Agent Marshall sent to spy on me at Kestler's.”
I stared uneasily at the shadow ahead of us. This wasn't exactly how I'd hoped to find out what had happened to my parents, but perhaps he could tell me more than Chris had.
Fear gripped my stomach. He could, but then he would quite literally have to kill us. He couldn't afford to let us leave here alive.
Us! I closed my eyes as guilt briefly replaced my fear. Matt was staring bravely at the Snake, the grim look in his eyes showing that he'd reached the same conclusion I had. Trinity was glaring defiantly, but her hands shook as she fingered her locket. Winston unsuccessfully tried to cover his fear with a thin mask of bravado.
My heart grew cold. Sure, I was afraid to die, but I wasn’t afraid of what would happen to me after that - or to Matt either, for that matter. Winston and Trinity on the other hand... Please, Lord, get us out of here. They're not ready to meet you yet.
“Does SATURN think I’m a child to be babysat by teens?” The Snake’s harsh voice rose wrathfully. “Do they not fear me enough to at least send real agents instead of children?”
His voice softened to a malicious whisper. “Soon they will fear me. The whole world will fear me!”
The Snake looked over us carefully.
“Who are you? How much do you know?” His voice was suddenly sweet and condescending, as if he were talking to preschoolers. “Tell me what I want to know, and I will consider letting you go.”
“My name is Winston Daytona the third.” Winston stepped up readily. “Of the Boston Daytonas. My dad will pay you well if you return me unharmed.”
“Whether you remain unharmed relies entirely on how well you cooperate,” the Snake said threateningly.
Matt and I glanced at each other grimly. The Snake wouldn’t dare let any of us go now that we knew the location of his hideout. He couldn’t risk our reporting to SATURN. Besides, if Matt and I did tell him how much we knew, we could get all of us in even more trouble. Our best bet might be to play dumb and hope we were convincing.
“What’s wrong with you?” Trinity shouted at the Snake, her voice laced with panic. She twisted her locket so frantically, I was sure it would break off in her hands. “We are teens, not spies. Teens hang out at that diner all the time. You’ve made a mistake.”
The Snake opened the drawer to the desk and reached inside. With a rasping chuckle, he poured a small pile of shining silver disks on to his desk. “Were these 'mistakes' as well?”
They'd found SATURN's bugs. Matt poked an elbow into my side. We were going to have some trouble talking our way out of that.
“Those two were there all day, writing in this.” Mrs. Gunther stepped forward and tossed Matt's notebook on the desk in front of the Snake. “The girl and the short kid met them later.”
All hope flowed out of me as the Snake thumbed through the notebook silently. Any chance we might have had of passing ourselves off as innocent teenagers was now gone. Matt groaned beside me.
The Snake chuckled menacingly. “Very thorough. You described everyone who came or went from here all day. I’m not sure a real agent could have done a better job.”
Trinity stared at us speechlessly.
“The other two had nothing to do with this.” Perhaps I could at least persuade him to let Trinity and Winston go. “They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Yes.” The Snake templed his fingers in front of him. “And unless you tell me what I want to know, they will die with you. We’ll start with your names. Cadet Daytona here has wisely decided to cooperate.” The Snake looked at Trinity. “What about you, young lady?”
“Trinity Marie Shiloh.” Her hands dropped to her sides as tears of defeat filled her eyes.
“Good. She, too, realizes things will go easier for her if she cooperates.” The Snake turned to Matt. “Your turn.”
Matt folded his arms over his chest and spread his feet. The Snake had no reason to recognize Trinity and Winston's names, but if he associated Matt and I with our families, we were all toast.
“Perhaps you need a little reminder. Matthew David Marshall, brother to SATURN Agent Christopher Marshall.” The Snake leaned forward over his desk. “I'm shocked your brother allowed you to get involved, given how the first time he met me turned out.”
“Scott Eric McCully.” The Snake stressed my middle name as he swiveled in his chair to face me. “Only child of SATURN's dynamic duo, the late Eric and Marisa McCully. The same Eric and Marisa McCully that I had killed a week ago?”
They’re not dead! I fought to keep from reacting as the blood drained from my face. He was just trying to get to me. He had to be.
“SATURN probably told you they died in a plane crash.” The Snake chuckled. “Not even SATURN believes that. They only told you that because they thought you could handle it better than the truth.”
I wasn't s sure I wanted to know his version of the truth any more.
“I had my men kidnap them, and instructed Mrs. Gunther to crash their plane to cover up their disappearance. The nerve gas was a convincing addition, I thought.”
He's enjoying this. This was all a game to him, a battle of wits I couldn't afford to lose.
“I had them brought here for interrogation.” The Snake paused and glanced at each of us to see the effect his words were having. “I’m afraid our methods were a bit harsh, and your parents were more than a bit stubborn. A body can only take so much.”
I stood as pale and stiff as a statue, my eyes staring straight ahead. Winston was silent for once. Trinity cried softly and Matt muttered under his breath angrily, but they sounded very far away. I couldn’t move. I felt like I had been kicked in the stomach. They’re not dead. They can’t be.
“I’d like to tell you that they died easily,” the Snake said maliciously, ”but their deaths were anything but easy. I’m afraid there wasn’t even enough left for a proper burial.”
Tortured. My knees gave out beneath me and I sank to the concrete floor. He was lying, he had to be. Dear Lord, after all this I can’t be too late. I wanted to scream at the Snake, but the lump in my throat cut off all sound. My eyes burned with blinding tears.
“Take them to the detainment room.” The Snake’s instructions barely pierced the fog surrounding my brain. “They will be joining his parents soon enough.