“You’re kidding, right?” asked Camille as they stepped inside the stairwell. “There could be twenty of them waiting for us out there.”
“I’m not kidding,” Art replied. “We’re going to walk right out the exit.”
Camille stared at him.
He’s lost it completely, she thought.
Art took off his jacket and handed it to her. “It’s cold outside,” he said.
Camille took the jacket and slipped it on. Her mom was going to be furious that Camille had lost her red jacket with the white polka dots.
Art opened his backpack and took out his Yankees cap. “Put it on,” he said. “Your red hair can be seen from a mile away.”
The girl took the cap and snuggled it down over her mound of red hair.
“Just walk right out the exit?” she asked. “That’s your plan?”
“Yep,” the boy replied. “That’s my plan.”
Art pointed at a small box on the stairwell wall—just next to the door leading back into the ballroom hallway.
Camille smiled.
Regina Cash made her way over to the window and stared down at the sidewalk below. She could see the SUV parked across the street. She knew that Nigel Stenhouse was waiting for the kids somewhere outside the emergency exit, figuring they wouldn’t dare to go out the front door of the hotel.
But there was no sign of the kids.
Be patient, she told herself. Everything’s going according to plan.
And that’s when it happened.
Up and down the entire hallway, small strobe lights near the ceiling started flashing. Immediately the multitude of conversations in the hallway stopped. No one seemed to know what was happening.
No one but Regina Cash.
I really hate those kids, she thought.
Cash covered her ears with her hands. She knew what was coming next.
The noise started a moment later—a high-pitched, pulsating sound.
Briefly, the crowd remained frozen in place, uncertain what to do. Then someone in the throng yelled, “Fire!” and in an instant, everyone rushed toward the exit sign.
As soon as he pulled the small red lever, Art moved away from the door. Lights immediately started flashing in the stairway, followed by the piercing sounds of the fire alarm. Art and Camille covered their ears. In the confined space of the stairwell, the noise seemed unbearably loud. Art kept his eye on the door, waiting for the crowd to appear. But there was nothing—just the sound and the flashing lights. Had his plan not worked?
Where is everybody? he wondered. He looked anxiously at Camille, who seemed to be thinking the same thing.
And then, suddenly, the exit door burst open. The stairwell filled with people, who started filing down the stairs toward the emergency exit.
Camille grinned at Art, who smiled back.
They squeezed into the crowd heading downstairs.
Nigel Stenhouse ripped the receiver from his ear. The piercing noise had almost burst his eardrum. He had been waiting outside with his eyes peeled on the emergency exit door when the noise started. Stenhouse, looking up at the windows of the hotel, saw the flashing lights and instantly recognized what was happening.
Someone had pulled a fire alarm.
Smart kids, he thought. Regina should have been more careful.
He knew that the plan would have to change. Within a few seconds, a crowd of people would start pouring out the exit. And somewhere in that mob was a young boy who held the key to a massive fortune.
Things were about to get exciting.
Stenhouse took a position just to the side of the exit door and prepared to act. He would have to move quickly—identify the kid in the masses, grab him, and move him to the SUV by any means necessary. It wasn’t the best of circumstances, but the noise and confusion of the crowd would provide some cover. The team couldn’t let the boy get away yet again—there was too much at stake.
Stenhouse pressed his back against the stone exterior of the hotel. His frosty breath drifted out into the night. For a moment, the only noise was the muffled sound of the fire alarm from inside the building. The exit door remained closed.
A few seconds passed, and nothing happened.
Stenhouse wondered whether everyone had been shuttled to another exit—perhaps through the front of the hotel?
And then the door creaked open ever so slightly. It seemed to pause in that position. Stenhouse readied himself. For a moment, everything was still.
Then the door exploded wide open. The muffled sound of the fire alarm gave way to a full-throttle blare. People poured out in waves. Stenhouse tried to maintain his position by the door, but the crowd was too thick and moving too fast. The man soon found himself standing in the middle of the street at the far edge of the mob.
Surrounded by a throng of people, Art and Camille squeezed through the exit door and onto the sidewalk. Art had forgotten how bitterly cold it was outside. A light snow continued to fall. The crowd of partiers, however, did not seem the least bit deterred by the fire alarm or the cold or the snow—in fact, it was as if they had simply moved the festivities outdoors. The sidewalk next to the hotel was filled with people who mingled about with drinks in hand. No one seemed to notice, or care, that the temperature was well below freezing.
Art spotted the black SUV he had seen from the window on the second floor. He could see the exhaust pouring from the rear of the vehicle.
He and Camille needed to get out of there, and fast.
To his right Art could see the massive stone façade of the National Portrait Gallery. Heading that way was out of the question—he and Camille had almost been cornered by their pursuers in that area, and for all Art knew, some of them remained there. The kids would need to head in the opposite direction.
He got Camille’s attention and pointed to their left. Camille nodded her understanding.
Regina Cash spotted them. The kids stood on the far side of the crowd to her left, no more than twenty feet away. The girl was now wearing the boy’s coat and a hat.
Not much of a disguise, Cash thought.
She looked around for any sign of Nigel Stenhouse but couldn’t see him in the large crowd. She tried contacting him on her two-way radio, but the only thing she heard in her earpiece was static.
She would have to handle this herself.
Don’t rush, Regina cautioned herself. Let the kids make the first move. Just watch and wait for the right opportunity.
Her patience paid off. Instead of sticking to the safety of the crowd, the kids broke free and started walking south along the sidewalk.