The Gauntlet Assassin

Chapter 22

Wed., May 10, 9:25 a.m.

Too energized from her turn in the Puzzle to go back to the hotel, Lara hung out in the lobby with other contestants. A few teasingly asked her to give them tips and she laughed it off. Sharing details about the arenas or Gauntlet phases was strictly forbidden, as well as stupid.

No one had been caught cheating yet, and it didn’t surprise Lara. In addition to the jobs and huge grant money awarded to the winner’s state, the victorious contestant took home a cash prize of ten thousand dollars and received offers from companies for commercials. Lara had no interest in being a spokesperson, but the cash would be welcome.

If she won, she planned to give half to the family she’d inadvertently harmed. More than that, she wanted to help her state. She wanted to put police officers and teachers back to work. Even more, she needed redemption. She couldn’t ever bring back the innocent life she’d taken, but if she made thousands of other lives better, she might hate herself a little less.

Lara watched as the scoreboard updated and her name appeared at the top of the list with 114 points. Yes! She’d earned 25 points for getting out of the cube and another 22 bonus points from the viewers. If she held the fastest time in the Puzzle, she could earn another 50 points for winning. The final prize was starting to feel tangible.

“You kicked ass.” Jason Copeland walked up and raised his bottle of juice in salute.

“Thanks. I’m a little stunned, but very pleased.”

“You still have to beat me in the Battle.”

“No problem.”

“The odds of us being paired off in one of the rounds are pretty high.”

“We’ll see.” Lara looked him over. He was younger and more muscular than her, but she had more training. She wanted to beat him just to wipe the smugness off his face.

“A woman hasn’t won both her rounds of the Battle yet. You won’t make into the Obstacle.”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself.” The Battle required hand-to-hand combat with various weapons. Lara counted on her extensive training, her speed, and her leaping ability to get her through.

“I’ll bet money on Lara.” Makil Johnson stepped up to the scoreboard. He still had to work the Puzzle later that afternoon.

“Thanks.” Lara grinned. She didn’t know if bet was just an expression or if the contestants had a pool going. Why wouldn’t they? Viewers around the world had betting pools set up.

Jason laughed and clapped Makil on the shoulder. “We all need to be worried about Sam Duggar from Texas. Have you seen that guy?”

“I don’t know how he made it through the tunnels,” Makil said.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t survive the cube,” Lara added. The point of the Puzzle was to ensure that brute strength and endurance alone couldn’t earn the final prize. AmGo had insisted the Gauntlet have an intellectual component and had done everything possible to make the competition gender-neutral and fair. Some bloggers still complained that men had a physical advantage. Lara wanted to win and shut them up.

Her euphoria fading, she nodded at her competitors and crossed the lobby, scanning in both directions for the blond man. Outside, she caught a shuttle back to the hotel. Alone in the van except for the driver, she drank a can of ProFast and planned her next move. She had free time until the Battle tournament started in the morning and decided she’d better look at the footage in the auditorium where she’d seen the shooter.

At the hotel desk, she asked the clerk to contact Thaddeus Morton. Lara figured he had to have a suite or office at the hotel during the competition. After a moment, the clerk wrote something down and handed her a small piece of paper. Lara read: Suite 440, at the end of the hall on the fourth floor. Be discreet.

Of course. He didn’t want other contestants to see her enter his office. If she won, it would look bad. Lara took the elevator to the fourth floor, found the hallway empty, and hurried to the commissioner’s suite, which was three rooms away from hers.

She started to knock, then heard a soft click and the door came open. Glancing up, she saw the security camera.

Morton was seated at a large desk in what looked like a luxury apartment. “I’ve been expecting you.” He motioned for her to sit at a smaller desk nearby. “Congratulations on your excellent performance in the Puzzle. I don’t usually watch the footage unless I need to make judgments, but I wanted to see if you’d still be here tomorrow.”

It wasn’t necessary to witness her efforts in the cube to learn her outcome, and Lara was surprised by his personal interest. “Thank you. I’m starting to feel optimistic about winning this thing. Provided I don’t get killed first.”

“I was hoping you’d fail today, get on a plane, and go home. It would make my life simpler.” The commissioner leaned back in his chair. “You’re here to look at security footage?” He gestured toward the smaller desk.

“We need to find this guy.” Lara sat down at the NetCom and tapped the fingerpad. “Has he come after you again or contacted you?”

Morton shook his head. “I really don’t think he’ll be back.” He reached for the control pad. “I’m sending you the video section the security staff isolated for us.” A few seconds later, an icon appeared on her screen. “That’s the footage of the orientation,” he added.

Lara opened the file and saw the front of the auditorium. “I need the footage from the camera aimed at the back of the room.”

“Fine. I’ll send the whole folder. I asked for two-hour sections, so you’ll have to skim through the beginning.”

A small blue folder appeared on her screen. Lara opened the file marked Camera 3 and started a video clip. The auditorium was clearly empty, so she fast-forwarded to the point where a service worker opened the doors at the back of the room. From there, she skimmed until the first contestants started filing in, then slowed it down and watched in regular time. After twenty minutes, she saw herself come into the room, look around, and take a seat near the back. Watching herself was a little creepy, and she was glad to move on. Some of the contestants came in pairs, roommates likely, but most were alone. The media people were easy to spot with their Docks and shoulder cameras.

The room had nearly filled, and the audience turned to face forward, as if someone had taken the stage. A moment later, she spotted the guy. A shaggy-blond man in blue slacks and a gray sweatshirt slipped in. He hung in the back instead of looking for a seat. A minute later, the service worker closed the doors.

Lara zoomed in on the guy and the image went blurry. He had the same build as the man she’d seen in the driveway at the commissioner’s house in Eugene and the same dirty-blond hair, parted in the middle and tucked behind his ears. Generally, the shape and color of his face looked similar too, but she couldn’t make a positive ID because she hadn’t seen the shooter’s face clearly, and this image wasn’t in focus.

She panned out and watched the footage as he stood in the back, listening to the speaker. After a few minutes, the man took a seat. Lara zipped the clip forward through twenty minutes of the commissioner’s presentation. Blondie stood, so she slowed the speed and watched in real time and he walked to the wall and leaned against it.

Moments later, she watched herself rise and head for the doors. Blondie saw her coming, did a startled double take, and charged for the exit. Lara was now certain he hadn’t followed her into the room. He’d gone there to hear Thaddeus Morton and had been surprised to see her, the witness at his earlier crime.

“Come look at this guy.” She reversed the clip while the commissioner walked over. She stopped it at the point where Blondie stood near the end of the speech. “Is this the man who shot you?”

“Sure looks like him. Not many men wear their hair like that.”

“You’re right.” Lara zoomed in again. “You know what? I think it’s a wig.”

“You might be right.” The commissioner squinted at the monitor. “Do you suppose his mustache is fake too?”