felt about his lack of foresight. And just at that moment, he heard the distant buzz of an approaching helicopter, the faraway thrum that could be nothing else – and although it was a solution of sorts, it was the worst one possible.
Nothing for cover except this compound, and we'll never make it back to the van, we've got two, three minutes… 'We have to get out of here,' David said, already running through the things they would have to do if they were to stand a chance, even as they were all running for the door.
The workers were cake. There had been a few tense moments rousing them from their dark cots in the dark dorm rooms, but it had gone off without inci– dent. John had still been somewhat wary of a few of them when he'd first herded them into the cafeteria, where Leon was watching the card-players – in partic– ular, two fairly big men who looked like they might have machismo disorders and a thin, twitchy guy with deepset eyes who couldn't seem to stop licking his lips. It was like a compulsive thing; every few seconds, his tongue would dart out, flick between his lips and then disappear for another few seconds. Creepy. There'd been no trouble, though. Fourteen men and no one willing to play hero after John had presented them with a little logic. He'd kept it short and simple:
we're here to find something, we're not planning to hurt anyone, we just want you to stay out of the way while we get out of here. Don't be stupid and you won't get shot. Either the logic or the M-16 had been enough to convince them that it would be best not to argue. John stood by the door back into the big hall, watching the unhappy-looking group seated in the middle of the large room around a long table. A few looked pissed, a few looked scared, most just looked tired. Nobody spoke, which was fine by John; he didn't want to have to worry about anyone trying to work up a rebellion. In spite of his reasonable certainty that all was cool, he was glad to hear the light tap on the door. Leon had been gone maybe five minutes, but it seemed like a lot
longer. He walked in holding a length of chain and a couple of wire coathangers. 'Any trouble?' Leon asked quietly, and John shook his head, keeping his attention on the silent group. 'Been nice and quiet,' he said. 'Where'd you find the chain?' 'Toolbox, in one of the rooms.'
John nodded, then raised his voice, keeping it calm.
'Alright, folks, we're about to take our leave. Wethank you for your patience…' Leon nudged him. 'Ask if Reston's here,' he whis-pered. John sighed. 'You think if he is, he's gonna tell us?'The younger man shrugged. 'Worth a shot, isn't it?'Stranger things have happened…John cleared his throat and spoke again. 'Is a man named Reston in here? We just have a question, we're not going to hurt you.'
The men stared at him, at both of them, and John wondered, for just a second, if they knew what they were doing there; if they knew what Umbrella was doing. They didn't look like Nazis, they looked like a bunch of working stiffs. Like guys who put in a hard day and liked to throw back a few beers in the evening. Like – like guys.
And what did Nazis look like? These people are a part of the problem, they're working for the enemy. They're not going to help us… 'Blue ain't here.' A big bearded man in a T-shirt and boxers, one of the ones John had been keeping an eye on. His voice was gruff and irritable, his face still puffy from sleep. John glanced at Leon, surprised, and saw that the rookie looked the same. 'Blue?' John asked. 'Is that Reston?'
A man sitting at the end of the table with longish hair and grease-stained hands nodded. 'Yeah. And that's Mister Blue to you.'
The sarcasm was pointed. There were a couple of dark looks exchanged within the sitting group and a couple of chuckles.
Reston's one of the key guys, Trent said. And just about everybody hates their boss… but so much that they'd talk shit about him to a couple of terrorists?
Reston must be real unpopular.
'Is there anyone else working here who isn't in this room?' Leon asked. 'We don't want to be sur– prised…'
The implications were obvious, but it was also obvious that they weren't going to get anything else from the assembled employees. They might hate
Reston, but John could see from the crossed arms and scowls that they wouldn't talk about one of their own. If there was anyone else in the facility, which he doubted. Trent had said it was a small staff… which means it was probably Reston who brought us down, which means we could kill two birds if we find him – get the book and get him to start up the elevator again. We lock Reston in a closet, hook up with David and the girls and get gone before anything else unexpected comes up.
John nodded at Leon, and they backed up to the door. John realized that he didn't want to just walk out, that he felt a kind of sympathy for the men that he'd dragged out of bed. Not a lot, but something. 'We're gonna lock the door here,' John said, 'but you'll be okay until the company sends someone, you got food… and if you don't mind a little advice, listen up – Umbrella ain't the good guys. Whatever they're paying you, it isn't enough. They're killers.'
The blank stares followed them out of the room. Leon closed the double doors and started to rig up the makeshift lock, threading the chain through the han– dles and bending the hangers. John walked the few steps to the corner and looked down the long gray hall that they'd stepped into from the elevator. They could continue on the way they'd been going to look for Reston, there was a bend in the corridor not far past the staff housing area…… but he's not that way, John thought, remember– ing the sound he'd heard when they'd first arrived.
He's back the way we came, somewhere.
Leon finished securing the doors and joined him, looking a little pale but still game. 'So… now we look for Reston?' 'Yeah,' John said, thinking that the kid was doing pretty well, considering. Not a lot of experience, but he was smart, he had guts, and he didn't clutch under the gun. 'You holding up?' Leon nodded. 'Yeah. I'm just – do you think they're okay up there?'No, I think they're freezing their asses off waiting for us,' John said, smiling, and hoped that was the case – that after locking down the elevator, Reston hadn't released the hounds, or whatever equivalent this place had.
Or called for help…'Let's get this over with,' John said, and Leon nodded, as they started back down the hall to see what was what.
TEN
THEY HEADED OUT INTO THE BLACKNESS of the compound, the beat of the helicopter's blades getting closer. Rebecca saw its lights less than a half-mile northwest, saw that it was hovering, shining a spotlight down onto the desert-like plain.
The van, they've spotted the van.
Claire saw it too, but David was looking at the warehouse-type buildings behind them as he unslung his rifle, his intense gaze taking in the layout. Rebecca could hardly see him in the pale moonlight. 'They'll have to set down outside the fence,' he said. 'Follow me, and stay close.' He jogged off into the darkness, the burr of the helicopter growing steadily behind them. God, I hope he sees better than I can, Rebecca thought, clutching her nine-millimeter tightly, the metal cold against her numb fingers. She and Claire jogged after him as he headed for one of the dark structures, the second from the left in the line of five. Why he'd picked that one she didn't know, but David would have a reason, he always did. They ran into the corridor of black between the first and second building, fifteen feet of hard-packed arid sediment that stretched ahead of them some indeter– minate distance. The freezing air burned into her lungs, gusting out in clouds of steam she couldn't see. The whackawhacka sound of the 'copter drowned out their footsteps, drowned out most of what David was saying as he stopped, a door on either side of them.
'… to hide until we… can't… back…'
Rebecca shook her head and David gave it up, turning to the left, pointing his weapon at the door of the first building. Rebecca and Claire moved behind him, Rebecca wondering what he was up to; if the people from the helicopter landed to search – which they surely would – the bullet-riddled door would give them away. It looked to be made from some high– density plastic, but wasn't remarkable in any other way – it had a handle and keyhole rather than a card swipe. The building itself was some kind of stucco material, dirty and dusty, and no particular color that she could tell; the one behind them looked the same; there were no windows on either. The helicopter's searchlight was sweeping the fence at the front of the compound, its brightness piercing the cold dark like a brilliant flame. Flurries of dust were swirling up into the light, staining it, and Rebecca thought they had maybe a minute before it found them; the compound just wasn't that big. Bambambambambam! Most of the noise was swallowed up by the roar of the helicopter. Even in the darkness, Rebecca could see the line of holes, the concentration of them near the handle. David stepped forward and gave the door a hard kick, then a second – and it flew inward, a gaping black hole in the wall. The searchlight was moving back through the com-pound, the helicopter's swollen belly passing almost directly overhead as it shone its beam down on the other side of the first building, the thunder
