the frenzied activity around the entrance as several of Cano’s men brusquely shoved back people who were coming in as well as those who were on their way out while the goons closed the massive main doors.
The next phase of Stratton’s plan required him to get outside but all indications were that the building appeared to be closing down. He quickly scanned around for anything that might provide a clue to getting out and his gaze landed not on the perfect solution but probably the only one. A fire alarm was fixed to the wall beside the fire exit and Stratton whacked it with his elbow, breaking the glass. The building immediately erupted in a cacophony of bells and sirens and he walked into the crowded lobby as event staff emerged from the banqueting hall, wondering what the alarm was about.
‘Fire!’ Stratton called out. ‘Fire! Get out of the building! There’s a fire!’
It had the immediate desired effect with a general shift of people towards the main doors. The security guards tried to hold them back. Skender’s thugs were overly physical in their own efforts, which only served to increase tension, ignite tempers and fuel the urgency to escape.
Stratton joined the pack, shouting scary warnings above the din of the alarm bells. The mass of people quickly began to reverse the efforts of the guards and Skender’s goons to close the doors as Cano stepped from an elevator.
Cano quickly made his way to the side of the crowd, shouting at his men to hold the doors as he pushed his way towards them. As he forced his way to within a few feet of the entrance he noticed someone staring at him from the other side of the mass and suddenly realised it was Stratton.
Cano increased his efforts to push forward, never taking his stare off Stratton while his hand slipped inside his jacket and grabbed his pistol. He ripped it from its holster and struggled to raise it above the heads of those in front of him. As he got it roughly aimed, Stratton ducked out of sight.
Cano pushed even more violently, trampling a woman who had lost her footing in front of him. He ignored her screams as he stood on her in an effort to gain some height so that he could find Stratton.
The mass of bodies squeezed through the main doors as the guards finally gave in to the greater force. Cano surged out with them and onto the concourse where people were flooding away from the building in every direction. Most stopped at what they considered a safe distance to look back and see what the alarm was all about. Cano moved further out, scanning beyond and behind, his gun in his hand, ready to shoot should he catch sight of the person he hated most on this planet. As he came to a stop and turned a full circle, looking far and near, he caught sight of a figure in a waiter’s uniform running from the square and down a side street. Although he could not see the man’s features clearly enough he knew that it was Stratton. His empty eye socket began to throb.
As Cano continued to look in that direction he was filled with an intense curiosity to know what the man had been doing in the building and why he’d left.
‘Top-floor security, this is Vleshek,’ he shouted into his radio. ‘Top-floor security!’
A moment later there was a reply.
‘Is everything okay?’ Cano asked.
‘Everything is fine here.’
‘Check with all the other guards on that floor. I want to know if there has been anything suspicious in the last hour.
‘Give me a minute. I will check,’ the voice said.
It had been about an hour since Tony had been tossed into the dumpster. Stratton had been in the building somewhere, doing something that had taken that amount of time to complete. Perhaps he had been looking for the boy, but that would have been a stupid risk unless he had good reason to suspect that the kid was there. And to search a building that big by himself would have been pointless anyway. Cano could not but respect Stratton’s explosives skills and audacity but what the Englishman could possibly have been doing in the building he could not imagine.
‘Vleshek?’ a voice barked over the radio.
‘Yes,’ Cano said.
‘I’ve spoken to all the guys and no one’s seen or heard nothin’ suspicious.’
Cano lowered the radio, his mind churning through possible reasons Stratton could have been there.
‘Vleshek?’
‘I heard you,’ Cano snapped. He made his way back to the main entrance. Anger once again dominated Cano’s emotions as the feeling grew inside him that he did not have the initiative in this fight. He of all people knew the advantages of the small against the mighty. The only thing he had in his favour was time – or, more precisely, knowing that Stratton had little of it.
As Cano entered the lobby, the alarms bells still ringing, he raised his radio to his mouth. ‘This is Vleshek. Everyone listen. I want anyone who is not covering an exit to meet me on the second floor, and I mean everyone. And turn those goddamned alarm bells off !’
33
A sedan pulled into a side street across from Skender’s building and came to a stop alongside the kerb. Inside it Hobart, Seaton, Hendrickson and the driver all sat in silence, looking dishevelled and somewhat fatigued after a night without sleep. They’d spent hours at a medical facility, undergoing checks. Then they’d examined the mine at dawn for any clues or evidence. Having found nothing of value, they’d then learned of the pick-up that had been stolen outside the bar in Twin Oaks and discovered that Stratton’s vehicle had been left in its place. They’d decided to head for Los Angeles and Skender’s business centre since that was the next logical focus point of the manhunt.
Hobart finally broke the silence with a heavy sigh. ‘I’m gonna tell Skender to cancel his opening ceremony,’ he said as if he had just made the monumental decision.
Hendrickson, still wearing his singed coat, turned around in the front passenger seat to look at him. ‘He’s not going to like that, sir.’
‘I don’t give a damn what he likes,’ Hobart said. Then, after considering the comment, he acknow ledged the implications of such a decision. ‘Call the mayor’s office. I think the governor’s coming too. Let ’em know we’re closing down the building and not to come.’
‘Should I say why?’ Hendrickson asked.
‘Go ahead and tell ’em it’s a bomb scare but make sure they understand this is not al-Qaeda or anything like that. Just say we’ve got a crazy out there with an explosive device.’
‘The press’ll be here five minutes after I make the call,’ Hendrickson said.
‘They’re gonna know as soon as you call the police chief, the fire department and emergency services. We’re gonna need a cordon at least three blocks deep – plus EOD and ECM.’
‘We’ll have to evacuate every building within the cordon,’ Hendrickson said.
‘A goddamned nightmare,’ Hobart sighed. ‘Got anything to add?’ he asked Seaton.
Seaton was ignoring him and staring directly ahead.
Hobart looked at him. ‘Seaton?’
‘There he is,’ Seaton said.
Hobart didn’t quite understand who Seaton meant – his mind was on so many characters at that second. ‘Who?’ he asked, looking ahead in the direction where Seaton was staring.
‘Stratton.’
Hobart focused through the windscreen on a man in a waiter’s outfit walking across their front as Hendrickson spun round in his seat to look.
‘That’s
Hendrickson looked at Hobart, waiting for him to make the next move. Hobart quickly opened his door and the driver and Hendrickson followed, pulling their guns from their hip holsters.
Hobart put out a hand to keep them behind him. ‘No shooting unless I tell you to – is that understood?’
Hobart took the lead and hurried down the centre of the road, a warning tapping anxiously at his brain that this was too easy and something was about to blow up. As he turned the corner Stratton came into full view,
