annex roof that would alert Phoenix that we were up to something. And that trap door was a substantial piece of metal; I’d never be able to open the thing.
Tony pushed aside a backpack to make himself more comfortable.
Zak fanned himself with the Stetson. “Treat the bag with some respect, bud. We don’t know how stable that stuff is.”
Like he was moving a sack of eggs, Tony gently shifted it farther from him. “Greg, you sure you know how to use it?”
I didn’t take my eyes from the binoculars. “I’ve bundled half a dozen sticks together with a detonator and ten feet of fuse. When I tested it earlier the fuse burned at two seconds per foot.”
“That’ll be enough?”
“Once you light it you’ve got twenty seconds to get clear.”
“Give or take a few seconds,” Tony added. “So make sure you move fast once it’s burning.”
Zak gave a grim smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll move fast enough. They don’t call me Mr. Greased Lightning for nothing, you know.”
Tony chuckled. “When did they ever call you that? We have to hold lighted cigarettes to your toes to get you out of bed in the morning.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
I knew they were letting off steam to ease the tension. The truth was, all this hung on Boy getting it right the first time. If he fluffed it we got no second chances. And I knew we didn’t have enough dynamite to blow a hole through those three-foot concrete walls.
“Man, you’re so slow you’ve got moss growing on the soles of your boots.”
“You’ve got moss on your dick. The only time you use it is to prick the pastry.”
Both crumbled into snorting laughter. Tension was eating them. They were letting it out the only way they knew how.
Tony flicked Zak’s bald head with his finger. “Yeah, remind me to buy you a brush and comb set for Christmas.”
Zak grinned. “You won’t do that twice.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah… I’ve got a cute little kitten in my coat pocket. Try that again and I’ll squeeze its throat until its eyes go pop.”
“That so?”
“Yeah, and what-”
“Guys,” I breathed. “It’s happening.”
Suddenly they were alert again, staring forward through the bushes. Boy had climbed to his feet. He tilted his head to one side as he hoisted the backpack onto his back.
Zak whispered, “I hope those weld joints hold, Tony.”
“They will.”
I watched Boy. He seemed to be listening to a voice. I angled my head, too, but couldn’t catch anything. Then I saw Boy nod.
“He’s heading toward the annex,” I whispered. “That’s what Phoenix told us to do last time.”
“So it’s working?”
“Pray that it is.” I stared through the binoculars at the annex building that was disguised as a large garage. “There’s a door operated by pneumatics, I guess. Boy will have around twenty seconds to do his thing.”
Boy made a good act of plodding exhaustedly toward the annex. The backpack looked like a dead weight on his back. I guessed he wasn’t playacting that part of it. The bag contained nothing but a welded steel frame that fitted tightly into it like a hand in a glove. Tony had spent half the night making the thing. Now, pray God it was strong enough.
“There it goes,” I whispered. “See the bunker door opening?”
“Hell, it must be a foot thick,” Zak breathed.
“As soon as he wedges the bag in the doorway, move. And for God’s sake keep off the lawn. There are landmines under the grass.” I glanced at Zak. “You happy carrying the dynamite?”
“I’ll do it. Don’t worry about me.”
I nodded. “Once we’re in, Phoenix will do whatever he can to make life hard for us. There’ll be no light, so use the flashlights. He’ll probably hit us with water. Even a lot of noise.”
“If those are his only weapons we’re laughing.”
“Just say a little prayer he’s got nothing else. Wait; Boy’s almost there. Get ready. But keep down until we know the door’s jammed. OK?”
Without rising from the cover of the bushes I pulled the strap of the rifle over my shoulder and checked that the. 45 automatic was still strapped to my hip. At either side of me Zak and Tony checked their weapons. Tony sported a submachine gun with spare ammo clips taped together, while Zak carried a pair of sawed-off shotguns. He also hoisted the backpack containing the bundles of dynamite over his shoulders.
Hell, there was so much to check. Flashlights, ammo. I patted my pockets, feeling a rising panic. I’d forgotten the goddam cigarette lighter to ignite the fuses. Shit, you idiot, Valdiva, you fucking class A idiot, you should -Thank Christ. I felt hard tube shapes in my shirt pocket. I’d placed a pair of lighters there earlier. But pulling this off was like the plate-spinning trick you see at the circus. You have to make every little element of the plan work. Anything forgotten, anything mistimed, it all went crap.
“Any second now,” Zak whispered.
Still playing the weary refugee, Boy made it to the bunker. I saw him stop to listen again to a voice we couldn’t hear. No doubt Phoenix was giving the same instructions Michaela and I’d received in the same soft, whispering voice. Boy nodded again, then limped to the open doorway. As he entered he slipped the heavy bag from his shoulders. This time lightning-quick he spun ’round and jammed the bag lengthways into the entranceway. A second later the big armored door slid forward, as if to seal the aperture. It made it a third of the way, then stopped. It slid back. Shut again. But it couldn’t slide more than a third of the way across. An alarm began to sound from the bunker.
“He’s done it.” I scrambled to my feet and repeated the earlier warning: “For God’s sake keep off the grass. Touch that and you’ll go fucking sky high.”
The two followed me along the path to the bunker entrance.
Fifty
This was it. Adrenaline blasted me into overdrive. The world blurred as I ran hard at the bunker.
Boy danced outside the bunker door. “I did it, I did it!”
“Great work. Now get behind the bunker. And keep off the goddam grass.” I looked down at the doorway. The metal frame inside the bag still held against the pressure of the door. Even so, it had closed now maybe halfway, leaving a two-foot opening. I heard pneumatics hiss. The steel frame groaned; there was the sound of metal on metal grinding somewhere inside.
“It’s holding,” I shouted. “But it might not hold for long.”
Then Phoenix’s voice rolled from the speakers. “Valdiva! Get out of here! You’re a dead man! I’ll crush you!”
“Yeah, you and whose army?”
“You are dead, Valdiva. Get away from here! Get away!”
The voice thundered across the plastic lawns away into the forest.
“You’ve got bunker boy all riled,” Tony said as he switched on his flashlight.
“I’ll go first,” I said. “He’s going to turn this place into a fun house the moment we go in there.”
Phoenix boomed like the voice of God: “YOU’RE DEAD MEN WALKING. D’YA HEAR? GET AWAY FROM HERE… LEAVE AND YOU’LL LIVE!”
