Spiral

The room was empty, the phone off the hook. Beyond it, through a windowless metal-reinforced door, was the herbarium proper, with its rows of storage cabinets. A tough space to enter unnoticed. He’d have a target painted on his chest.

No choice. He had to go there.

Jake opened the door slowly. The main lights were out, the only illumination coming from the back of the room. One brown cabinet after another, each maybe seven feet tall and four feet wide, arranged in four rows like giant dominoes. He listened closely for any sound, then stepped inside. He took up a position against the closest cabinet on the left, keeping his breathing even and slow. If someone was here, they would have heard him enter. Better to play dumb.

“Maggie? You in here?”

Nothing.

“Maggie?”

A rustling came from somewhere in the middle of the room. He peered around the cabinet, gun ready, his finger half-squeezing the trigger. He saw a human form standing in a shadowed space between the two rows of cabinets.

Jesus. It was Maggie. Her mouth was taped closed, her hands behind her back. Bound and gagged.

Jake kept the gun up, worked his way carefully along the left wall.

Then Jake’s phone rang.

Jake pulled it from his pocket and glanced down. The caller ID said ANS OR SHE DIES.

Jake edged around until he could see Maggie again. He accepted the call.

“You’re going to do something for me,” the woman said, her voice calm and low. She had an accent-Chinese, Jake was pretty sure. He picked up a slight echo, probably from her voice carrying across the warehouse-sized space. The acoustics of the room were complex, sounds ricocheting off the walls and cabinets. He couldn’t yet tell where she was, but he was sure she was inside. And therefore not more than a hundred feet away.

Jake tried to think it through. She was most likely across the room, on the other side of Maggie. His best bet was to go left, circle around. Outflank her. “Who are you?” he said into the phone, listening for the echo.

“You can call me Orchid.”

“What do you want?”

“In time. Now. Look at your phone.”

Jake saw the numbers of his phone appear one by one, as if he was dialing. The dialing stopped on the second-to-last number. He recognized the number. It was Vlad’s cell.

“Here’s what you will do. You’ll tell him everything is fine. Tell him that Ms. Connor’s cellphone batteries were dead. You understand? Then ask him how his search is going. He’ll tell you. You’ll respond appropriately. Then you’ll hang up. Do you understand?”

“What do I get in return?”

“Nothing. You fail, I kill her. I’ll be on the line. I’ll cut you off if you try and say anything wrong. You understand?”

Jake kept moving, hoping the confusing acoustics would mask his forward progress. He swung around the next cabinet, gun in one hand and the phone in the other.

Nothing.

Jesus Christ, where was she?

The last number appeared. Then the phone was ringing.

Vlad picked up on the second ring. “Jake?”

Jake approached the next cabinet, gun drawn.

“Jake? Everything all right?”

He whipped around, ready to fire. Nothing. “Everything is fine. Where are you with the sequencing?”

“What was wrong with her phone?” Vlad asked.

“The battery was dead.”

Jake stepped around another cabinet, gun drawn. Nothing.

“What about the landline?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she didn’t answer it.”

“You didn’t ask her?”

“No. Vlad. It’s fine. Tell me about the sequence.”

Vlad didn’t respond. Then, “You sure you are fine?”

“Vlad. Leave it. It’s been a tough couple of days.” Jake continued his progress along the left wall. Only three more cabinets to go.

Jake was close. The next row was the one that was his best guess. “We’ve almost got it, Jake. Another half-hour.”

He heard the slight squeak of rubber. A shoe. It came from the other side of the cabinet he was now facing. He looked to his right. He could still see Maggie. The shoe wasn’t Maggie’s.

Moment of truth. He’d come around it quickly, firing.

He took a breath, held it. He muted his phone, then tossed it across the room. The phone struck the far wall with a clang. Jake turned the corner, gun held in both hands, ready to blow Orchid’s head off.

Standing there, staring right at him, was Dylan, eyes big as moons. Jake’s legs went rubbery, hands shaking at what he’d almost done. He’d come to within a fraction of a second of shooting.

He eased the pressure on the trigger, his knees almost buckling.

From behind him, a voice very close: “Put down the gun. Slowly.”

28

INSIDE OF AN HOUR, THEY HAD THE BRASS CYLINDER AT DETRICK.