Nicholas Tate had been right.
There were bears on the loose.
Papa bear seemed to sniff the air for a moment. Then he headed westward, toward the other end of the underground railway station, followed by his brood.
As soon as they were a safe distance away, Schofield dashed into the open stairwell.
Dave Fairfax was tapping feverishly at the keyboard of his supercomputer.
After five minutes' work, the computer had found a source number that represented Area 7's self-destruct release code.
Not bad progress, really. There was only one problem.
The number had 640 million digits. He kept typing.
10:52.
Schofield bounded up the stairwell, in near pitch darkness, his flashlight beam wobbling.
As he ran, he tried to get Gant on the airwaves. 'Fox, this is Scarecrow. Can you hear me?' he whispered. 'I repeat, Fox, this is Scarecrow…'
No reply.
He ran past the firedoor to Level 5 — the door with the thin jets of water shooting out from its edges — then came to Level 4, the lab level, hurried past its open door, heading upward.
On the other side of Level 4, Gant heard the voice again. It sounded tinny and distant.
'…repeat, Fox, this is Scarecrow…'
Scarecrow…
The voice was coming from Gant's earpiece, which now hung loosely from her ear. It must have been dislodged when her captor had knocked her unconscious.
Gant looked up at her left wrist, duct-taped to the cross high above her head.
She still had her Secret Service wrist mike attached to it. But there was no way she could bring it to her mouth, and the mike only worked when you spoke into it at close range.
So she started tapping her finger on the top of the microphone.
Schofield came to the floor door that opened onto Level 2 and suddenly stopped.
He'd heard a strange tapping in his earpiece.
Tap-tap-taap. Tap-taap-tap….
Long and short taps.
Morse code.
Morse code that read, 'F-O-X. F-O-X…'
'Fox, is that you? One tap for no, two taps for yes.'
Tap-tap.
'Are you okay?'
Tap.
'Where are you? Tap out the floor number.'
Tap-tap-tap-tap.
10:53.
Schofield burst through the Level 4 firedoor, scanning the decompression area down the barrel of his gun.
It was dark.
Very dark.
This end of the floor was completely deserted — the decompression chamber was empty, as were the test chambers opposite it, and the catwalks above. The sliding horizontal doorway in the floor — the one that led down to the Level 5 cell bay — however, was still open.
The water level down on Level 5 had risen considerably over the last few hours. It had leveled off flush against the floor of Level 4. Inky black wavelets lapped up against the edges of the horizontal opening so that it now looked like a little rectangular pool.
Level 5, it seemed, was completely underwater now.
Schofield stepped past the pool — just as something slashed quickly through its waves. He spun, whipped his gun around, but whatever it had been was long gone.
This was not what he needed.
Dark complex. Bears moving around the stairwells. Caesar and Logan in here somewhere.
Water everywhere. Not to mention the possible presence of more prisoners.
He came to the wall that divided Level 4 in two, flung its door open and snapped his gun up… and immediately saw Gant on the far side, beyond the shattered remains of Kevin's cube, lying spread-eagled up against a bizarre steel cross.
Schofield ran across the observation area, slid to his knees in front of Gant.
As he arrived before her, he dropped his P-90, clasped her head gently in his hands and, without even thinking, kissed her on the lips.
At first, Gant was a little stunned, then she realized what was happening and she kissed him back.
When he pulled away, Schofield saw the two men on either side of her.
First he saw Hagerty, out cold, similarly crucified.
Then he saw the dead Colonel Harper — saw the raw pink flesh of his hacked-off lower body, saw his exposed tailbone.
'Holy Christ…' he breathed.
'Quickly,' Gant said. 'We don't have much time, he'll be back soon.'
'Who?' Schofield started unraveling her duct-taped throat.
'Lucifer Leary.'
'Oh, shit…' Schofield started working faster. The tape around Gant's neck came free. He started on her wrists…
There came a loud resonating boom from within the walls.
Schofield and Gant both looked up, eyes wide.
'The aircraft elevator…' Schofield said.
'He must have gone upstairs,' Gant breathed, 'and now he's back. Hurry…'
Faster now, Schofield continued untying the tape around Gant's left wrist, but it was done too tightly. His fingers fumbled with the tape. This was taking too long…
He spun, saw some glass shards lying over by Kevin's stagelike living area — shards that he could use to cut the duct tape. He slid over toward them and sifted through them, trying to find one that was sharp enough. He found one, just as Gant called, 'Scarecrow!' and he stood and turned — and found himself confronted by an extremely tall broad-shouldered figure.
Schofield froze.
The figure just stood there before him — perhaps a yard away, his face shrouded in shadow — absolutely motionless.
He towered over Schofield, gazing at him silently. Schofield hadn't even heard him approach.
'Do you know why the weasel never steals from the alligator's nest?' the shadowy figure asked. Schofield couldn't even see the man's mouth move.
Schofield swallowed.
'Because,' the figure said, 'it never knows when the alligator will return.'
And then the giant man stepped into the firelight — and Schofield saw the most fearsome, evil looking face he'd ever seen in his life. The face was big — like its owner — and it had a hideous black tattoo covering its entire left side, a tattoo depicting five ragged claw marks scratched down the length of the man's face.
Lucifer Leary.
He was absolutely enormous, too, at least six-foot eight, with massive muscular shoulders and gigantic tree trunk legs; almost a full foot taller than Schofield. He wore prison-issue jeans and a sky-blue shirt with the sleeves ripped off. His black eyes revealed not a trace of humanity — they just stared at Schofield like empty black orbs.
Then Leary opened his mouth, smiling menacingly, revealing foul yellow teeth.
