Slick approved the plan. Since no other guard had shown up, they headed up the hill in the cleared area. Melody wished she were wearing her running shoes. She was in danger of losing the ones she had on because of the rough ground, but she didn’t say anything to Slick. Once they were past the line of sight from the windows, they followed a sidewalk close to the building. Walking on the concrete was easier. As they came around the corner of the building, they saw the door they were looking for. The window near it was dark.
Slick tried the handle. It was locked with a simple lock. He had a couple of thin metal strips attached to his key ring. He opened the door in less than a minute. They went inside and found a light switch by feel. A number of ceiling lights came on. The room was large, with all kinds of equipment in it, including blankets, bed linen, pots and pans, and other kitchen utensils. It had a stove and sink. There was also electronic gear of some sort. The room was furnished with a long table with chairs around it. Half a dozen cots were lined up along the far wall, made up for sleeping with military precision. Schematic drawings of what looked like a submarine covered another wall.
Melody was attracted to several manuals she saw sitting on a bookshelf. They looked familiar. She walked over to one and glanced at the cover. She gasped and opened it up.
“Slick. Look at this.”
Slick ambled over and came as close to showing emotion as Melody had seen from him. “If I’m not mistaken that’s Russian.”
“This is identical to a manual Drake and I saw on the sub.”
“Proof that Big G is dealing with the Russkies.”
“Worse. It’s proof that Big G made the attack on Malibu. This was a training room for the crew. They slept here; they studied here.”
“Ah, the light dawns. Casey faked the attack to aid his quest for power.”
“I remember now. A helicopter flew along the beach just before the attack. It must have been communicating with the sub, telling it when to fire to catch the tail-end of the runners. Killing one was acceptable to Casey, because it helped rouse the public to demand security.”
“I wonder if those generals and admirals downstairs know about this.”
“I doubt it. They’re trained to defend their country, not attack it.”
The only inside door leading from the room was to a bathroom. The training center was isolated from the rest of the building. Melody and Slick went back outside and continued around the building in a counterclockwise direction, looking for another way in.
CHAPTER 37
Drake walked slowly toward the doorway, trying to stall as long as possible. Where were Melody and Slick? He had lost track of the time. He had allowed this two-bit guard to get the best of him. Now he would die for the cause of freedom.
Millions of Americans had died for freedom already, but his was a useless death because Casey had won. He felt the pressure of Artie’s gun in his back. Drake faked a limp to gain time and wondered how he could disarm Artie while handcuffed without getting himself killed.
He stepped outside into the cool night. At least the floodlights on the building allowed him to see. He took a step to the left toward the front of the lodge where Melody and Slick would be most likely to spot him. Artie grabbed his arm and roughly swung him in the opposite direction toward the lowest corner of the building.
Still moving slowly, Drake reached the back corner. Beyond and downhill from them were trees. They were headed away from the road and away from civilization and any chance for help. Drake glanced over his right shoulder, ostensibly to glance at his captor, and swept his eyes uphill along the back of the lodge, looking for a sign of Melody and Slick.
In that split second, he thought he saw a movement. He wasn’t sure, and didn’t dare look again, because he was afraid of directing Artie’s attention behind the building. Even if it were a person, it might be that other guard on patrol.
Artie suddenly pulled him away from the corner, so that they were no longer visible from the back of the building, and directed him downhill in a slightly different direction. Even if what he had seen was some combination of Melody and Slick, if they hadn’t seen him at that exact same moment, they wouldn’t know he was here.
Drake whistled the same four warning notes that Melody had used to warn him about Sterling’s gun in the motel room: C, F, G, A. Then in rapid succession he added the next four in the sequence: F, B flat, A, G. They had made up lyrics for the notes: “He’s got a gun; this isn’t fun.”
Artie hit him on the side of the head with said gun, almost knocking him over, and growled, “Shut up.”
Drake stumbled and wished his hands were free to help him regain his balance on the downhill slope.
“There’s somebody down there.” Slick spoke softly. Melody followed his gaze toward the downhill corner of the building; she didn’t see anything. They had just been trying to look in a window, but it was dark inside. They were contemplating breaking the glass to gain entrance.
“It could be another guard. Stay behind me.”
Slick moved silently downhill, keeping his gun in front of him and his body hugged against the wall of the building.
Melody heard the eight notes clearly in the still night. They sliced through her body like a scimitar. “That’s Drake. He’s in trouble.”
She ran past Slick down to the corner of the building and looked around it. She saw two figures by the glow of the spotlights, heading downhill toward the trees. The one in front was stumbling, and it appeared that his hands were tied behind his back. Drake.
Slick came up behind her and looked over her shoulder.
Melody whispered, “A guard is taking Drake toward the woods. I bet he’s going to shoot him.”
Slick sucked in his breath. “We can’t storm them, or Drake gets it. I’ll go left. You go right. We’ll approach from either side.”
“Hurry.”
Slick had to go uphill a bit to approach them from the left side. Melody’s route was downhill; she went as fast as she could while making a minimum of noise and keeping a low profile. Fortunately, Drake and his guard were walking noisily. Drake was undoubtedly doing it on purpose.
She sped up as the two reached the trees, knowing that it would be more difficult for the guard to spot her now. How far was he going to take Drake before shooting him? Only far enough that the noise of the gun wouldn’t alert the men in the meeting. It was dark in the woods, but the guard had turned on a flashlight. Melody worked her way toward its beam, being careful not to trip over a root, knowing that she and Slick had to act fast.
Drake knew that the end was near. He had to take some action, not go out like a pantywaist. He was just about to try to knock Artie over when he heard the first two notes of the code he and Melody used. They came from close by on the right. He immediately dropped to the ground.
Artie swung his flashlight in the direction of the notes. Two gunshots came from the opposite direction. Artie swung the flashlight in a 180 and pointed it toward where the shots had come from. He fired in that direction as more shots came from there and behind him.
Artie grunted and dropped the flashlight, but he was still standing. Now Melody and Slick wouldn’t be able to tell where he was. Drake could see by the peripheral light of the flashlight, now lying on the ground, that Artie was aiming the gun at him. He was going to make sure of his original objective.
The beam of another flashlight zigzagged rapidly toward them from the left, along with the sound of somebody crashing through the brush. It must be Slick. Artie whirled and fired toward the beam. There was a thud, and the flashlight disappeared. Another shot came from almost right beside them. Artie staggered as several more
