Mark and Ivar sat in tense silence. Finally Eve appeared, shaking her head. "I was sure they would have a bodyguard outside the room. But they didn't. Then I searched every restaurant and public area."
Eve turned and quickly went to a bank of courtesy lobby phones. Mark and Ivar looked at each other blankly, then followed her.
Eve called the front desk, saying she was with the L.A. Times Newspaper. She glanced around and saw the woman who had taken her call across the lobby. Eve said she was calling because a reporter was on his way to interview Mr. Hashimoto. He would be arriving late. Could she have his room? Eve got the expected response that Mr. Hashimoto was not answering.
Mark and Ivar stood on either side of Eve, bent down, listening.
Eve told the operator that Mr. Hashimoto had reserved several rooms. Would they please check? She had the reporter on his car phone on another line and he was waiting. After a few minutes and the front desk clerk said there was no answer from any of the rooms. Mr. Hashimoto had reserved rooms 509, 510, 511 and 512, as well as the penthouse suite. Eve thanked the operator and told her, no, she did not wish to leave a message.
"They're not supposed to give room numbers," Ivar commented.
"Fifth floor," Mark said.
Eve had already strode to the elevators. Ivar and Mark hurried after her.
Mark muttered, One track mind, and stuck his arm in the elevator door to keep from being left behind.
"They've had her almost an hour," Eve said. "Is the camera ready?"
Mark nodded, as they exited on the fifth floor.
Eve walked quickly to room 509 and stopped before it. She stood there for a minute, doing absolutely nothing.
"What's she doing?" Ivar asked, almost to himself.
"Shh," Mark said. "Listening."
"These rooms are expensively built, with good soundproofing," Ivar said.
Eve went to each of Hashimoto's rooms and stood there a while. On the last door, 512, Ivar could see her whole body tense as she leaned into it. Then she turned around.
"Sabrina's in 510. Someone is telling her, over and over, how happy she will be living in Japan with her sister. They're using some kind of mind control technique. There are at least three people in the room, maybe four. Someone said something about a drug overdose."
"Oh my God," Mark exclaimed.
"I'm afraid of what will happen to Sabrina if I make a lot of noise getting inside. The suites are probably interconnected. If I broke into one, they could hustle her to another, which would give them too much time to call security."
Eve glanced at Mark, "If they are using these methods, they might consider Sabrina expendable. Give her an overdose on purpose, if they believe they'll be caught. Big headlines: Famous Model and Owner of Sabrina's Fashions Commits Suicide at Century Plaza Hotel. So we have to go in fast and quiet. Totally surprise them. Which means we have to get a control key card to open the door. Any ideas?"
Mark shook his head.
"I'll break into 511," Sabrina decided. "It's next door but further from the elevators. We can call from there for towels. The Japanese are notorious for their baths."
"As long as you don't make too much noise," Mark said. "And assuming we can con the maid into letting us use the key."
Ivar wondered how Eve could possibly believe she could break into one of the rooms. A successful attempt would require a hacksaw, but he saw Mark nodding.
As they made plans for the assault on room 511, a party of four people exited the elevators. Mark made a good imitation of looking for his key card, while Eve and Ivar asked loudly and irritably if he could have left it somewhere. Mark pretended to pat through numerous suit pockets. The charade ended abruptly when the two couples entered their rooms.
"I'll stand guard," Mark said, positioning himself in front of the elevators. If an elevator opened he would cough loudly to warn Eve, and detain the people leaving the elevator by blindly walking into them.
Eve and Ivar went to room 511 and stood in front of it. Eve took a deep breath and pushed with all her strength. The door did not budge a millimeter.
"My legs are stronger," she whispered.
"No one can kick down a door," Ivar said.
Eve took off her shoes and tried a high kick right next to the lock. It resulted in a thundering crash that reverberated down the hallway. She dented the door slightly.
Ivar watched with astonished concern. He thought she must have broken her foot.
"I might get in, eventually, but it would take too long and it's too noisy." Eve took a bottle of syrup from her purse and took a few swallows. They waited for someone to poke their head out of a room to see what the disturbance had been, but no one checked.
Ivar started searching his pockets for tools. "The doors are encased with metal, with wood in the center. The lock is metal soldered to metal alloy. We'll have to try to break the lock off." He took out a very sharp knife.
"Let me try." Eve put it on the seam of the lock where it attached to the door. She pushed so hard her arm started to shake and the knife blade bent in an arc.
"I'm sorry."
"That's all right," Ivar said. He had known she was heavier than regular people, and very strong, but he was astonished.
Eve bent the knife back so that it was almost straight, using both her hands, as Ivar simultaneously told her to be careful. She might cut herself. She did, but the gash on the thick pad of her thumb closed before his eyes. He would have said something about the miraculous healing, but Eve had put the thin blade into the slit where the card key fit and was feeling around inside with the knife.
There were loud metallic crunching noises and percussive pops. Ivar glanced over at Mark. He was shaking his head with a finger over his mouth.
The interior of the lock mechanism was more delicate than Ivar thought, or else Eve was phenomenally strong because she was destroying it. He didn't think it would do any good.
Eve hacked at the lock with the knife and pressed on the bar handle. She was breaking off the lever. It would be totally useless. There was no way she could make the bolt come out of the door jamb.
Eve turned her head and smiled at Ivar. The door clicked open.
Mark hurried down the hall and entered the room with them. They had to move quickly now. The door lever was hanging at an odd angle. Anyone walking down the hallway would notice.
The room looked like more than one person had changed rapidly and without a thought to neatness. Gi's, black belts, shirts and pajamas were strewn across the two beds haphazardly. Eve went to the phone, dialed housekeeping and handed the phone to Ivar. They would be expecting a male to be in the room.
Eve told him what to say, "Hai. Towels please. Room 510 and 511."
Mark stood in the doorway, holding onto the door handle to disguise the fact that it was broken. Eve stood beside him, leaning against him, with an arm around his neck. She wanted to look like a wanton prostitute. She stuck out one hip, unbuttoned a few buttons on her blouse and pulled it loose from her jeans as though she had dressed hurriedly. Ivar stood behind the door in case they would need muscle.
Mark looked at Eve and nodded approvingly. He messed up her hair with his free hand and wished he had some gum she could pop. He had to tell Eve not to lean on him so hard. She almost knocked him over.
The Century Plaza has very good service, but it seemed a very long time before they saw a woman in the hotel uniform walking down the hallway toward them carrying towels.
Eve languidly straightened up as the woman came abreast of them. "We need two towels for this room. Give me two more for next door."
The woman handed Eve the towels.
"Honey," Eve said, "I want to surprise the guys next door. A little gift. You understand. Just let me open the door?"
The maid handed Eve the key card while Mark smiled and nodded at her. Eve took the key and slipped it in the lock for room 510. She quietly pulled on the lever so that it clicked, and then handed the key back to the housekeeper.
Mark smirked at Eve lewdly for the benefit of the housekeeper. He gave Eve a wink, slapped her on the bottom and whispered loudly, "Give em hell, baby."
The housekeeper was discrete and exited quickly. She looked back only once, saw the guests waiting for her to leave before opening the door, and got into the elevator.
"Okay, Ivar," Mark said quietly. Ivar came into the hallway and stood behind them.
"Remember. Use the camera right away, Mark."
Mark and Ivar stood on either side of Eve and she gave a brief glance at each of them and nodded. She threw the door open. It hit the doorjamb on the opposite wall, broke it, and crashed into the wall.
Mark was as good as his word and started snapping pictures.
The bodyguard who had been walking Sabrina across the hotel room was so surprised and blinded by the flashing strobe that he dropped Sabrina. She crumpled to the floor. Mark took pictures of the psychologist following her, reading a script. He took pictures of the doctor trying to put a cloth over the syringes and medications that were used to drug Sabrina. He took pictures of Sabrina, lying in a loose heap on the floor. He turned once to get a picture of the door with the room number on it. He took pictures of Ivar holding up his identification. He took pictures of the physician trying to run out of the room.
Then Mark dropped the camera and ran to Sabrina.
Eve picked up the camera and resumed taking pictures. One of Ivar running after the tiny physician and grabbing him by the back of his collar, pulling him back into the room. One of the psychologist cringing and trying to hide the papers he had been holding. Eve grabbed the papers from him and took pictures of every page. She took pictures of the medications. She took pictures of the physician, the psychologist and the bodyguard sitting together on the bed where Ivar made them stay.
She did not take pictures of Mark, carefully holding Sabrina's head up and repeatedly asking if she was all right. Or of the tears he batted away when he found she was breathing and that she could move a little.
Mark picked Sabrina up, carried her to a chair and sat her down in his lap, petting her hair, murmuring over and over that she would be fine. He would take her home. He rocked her like she was a small child. She didn't seem to recognize him.
Eve took pictures of Sabrina's dazed face, the dilated eyes showing terrible fear and confusion. Then Eve left the room, afraid if she stayed any longer she would murder the three men sitting on the bed.
A couple of minutes later Ivar called her back inside. He needed her to take pictures of him confiscating the vials of drugs and syringes.
By this time the physician had regained his professional hauteur. He explained that Sabrina had become ill. They had been tending to her.
The physician had a skinny neck that looked like a wrinkled arm. His adams apple bobbed as he said that he was a licensed physician. What right did they have to intrude? In Japan, patients regarded it as an honor to be treated by him. That he was being questioned about his expertise was an indignation.
"Save it," Ivar said harshly. "I want to know how much of each of these drugs you gave to Sabrina Miller."
Ivar took a pad out of his coat pocket and had the physician shakily writing the amounts of each of the drugs. Then he made the doctor sign the bottom of the paper, threatening that if he did not sign it he could be put in prison. The doctor probably knew Ivar was bluffing. He also knew, surely and instinctively, that Ivar would hurt him very badly if he didn't sign.
Eve wanted to give Mark and Sabrina time together and let Ivar scare the men a little more, so she went through the room looking for hidden drugs. She ripped out the telephone cord so the men couldn't make any calls. Eve found that this hotel room was connected to the rooms on both sides of it, as she had speculated. She dismembered the phones in both of those rooms violently, growling low in her throat and pretending the phones were the doctor's skinny neck.
Eve went into the bathroom, got a wet towel and handed it to Mark so he could revive Sabrina. She kept falling asleep moments after he tried to rouse her.
"Is there an antidote?" Eve whispered to Ivar, who was still questioning the Japanese men.
"No. They say the drugs will wear off in a few hours."
"We don't have that much time. We have to get out of here. What scares me is the overdose. What about permanent brain damage?"
"The doctor says she will be perfectly fine, if we keep her awake."
Eve ran over to the chair where Mark was holding Sabrina and told him it was vital to keep Sabrina awake. They decided to resume walking her, and each supported one arm and started moving her from one side of the room to another, telling her to move her legs and help them. It was like trying to propel a body made of rubber. Her knees kept collapsing and her head sagged forward on her chest. Once she moaned, "Not again."
"You have to stay awake Sabrina," Eve said loudly, shaking her a little when she seemed to doze even while stumbling forward.
Mark glared at Eve.
"I wish we could put her in the shower. A very cold shower."
"You heartless bitch."
"We can't take a sopping person through the lobby," Eve said, totally unmoved by Mark's comment. He was overwrought.
While Eve and Mark walked Sabrina, Ivar wrote a confession and made each of the men sign it. It stated that they had, under the direction of Mr. Sato Hashimoto, given drugs to a woman named Sabrina Miller. They had used mind control techniques with a script written by the psychologist, also following Mr. Hashimoto's direct orders. Eve and Mark signed as witnesses.
Ivar told the men that Mr. Hashimoto could contact his lawyers in their behalf, as well as his own. They were under room arrest. They were not to leave under any circumstances. They would be contacted by the authorities.
Ivar needed a little time to get Sabrina out of the hotel before Hashimoto learned that she had been taken out of his control. What they had done was an illegal search and seizure. They were all aware Ivar could get into deep trouble with the CIA for his activities.
As Mark and Eve walked Sabrina they discussed how to get her downstairs and through the lobby without attracting too much attention. Any one of the three of them could carry her, but Good Samaritans would try to help if they said she was sick and their anonymity would be compromised. They could try to support her through the lobby, but she might collapse. Sabrina could not seem to support the weight of her head, which lolled forward or sideways like a heavy flower.
She actually looked like a drunk. They didn't want it noticed that a drunken woman and her twin had gone through an exclusive Los Angeles hotel lobby.
It was decided that Eve would go get the car so the noticeable twin thing would not be obvious and memorable. The other reason was because Mark absolutely refused to leave Sabrina, even to go get his own car.
Eve looked around the room and found some cardboard in the trash cans that had been used to back dry-cleaned shirts. She tore up a sheets and made what looked like a crude cervical collar. They put it around Sabrina's neck and it held her head up. Sabrina looked like an exotic type of nun, but it hid the most telltale sign that she could not support herself.
While Eve was making the collar, Ivar got a radio message from Malcolm. Hashimoto was now on his way back to the hotel. They had to leave quickly.
Eve left the hotel room first. Mark and Ivar practiced walking Sabrina until they thought they could support her without looking too remarkable. Each had an arm around her waist and they locked their arms together. They draped Sabrina's arms around each of their necks, holding her hand with their own to keep her arms in place. It was a little awkward, because Ivar was quite a bit taller than Mark, but they finally got the hang of walking Sabrina.
Three good friends, arms around each other, went down the hallway. Sabrina's feet just skimmed the floor. She floated through the hotel lobby while Ivar and Mark held a happy conversation with her for all to see.