“Well, I didn’t do that. So how about plan B?”
Sam took out a radio. “Grubb in, Scott in,” he said.
Sam looked at her, then at John. “If you want to escape what might conceivably be a serious risk of death or injury, you should do exactly as I say.”
Seconds later one of her escorts from downstairs, a large black man in a suit looking like a linebacker on steroids, came through the door, followed by a leaner fellow nearly as tall and sporting a platinum-blond crew cut. Even in the loose-fitting suits it must have been an effort for the men’s tailors to contain the muscle.
“One in. One out. Anybody strange comes that May doesn’t know, stop them-whatever it takes, exclusive of shooting, unless they use heat first. Then kill them. Grubb,” he said, addressing the black man, “why don’t you stand out front? You make a good red flag.
“Anna and John, come with me.”
Anna and John followed Sam out the door and down the hall, away from reception. Sam was watching May, as if to make sure that she didn’t see which way they were headed. Glancing back, Anna saw Grubb take a position outside the conference room door with one hand in his suit jacket.
Offices lined the outer wall, each simple and fairly small. To their left were cubicles with four-foot dividers and the usual array of baby and spouse pictures, grade-school artwork, and the typical postings of office humor.
People were moving past them through the hall, looking busy and distracted.
They stopped at an empty office with the placard announcing Norman Rawles and went inside.
Sam closed the door. “I told you I hoped this wouldn’t happen, John, and I’m sorry. But it’s probably a little safer for you on the roof with us. On the other hand they will expect that you are there. What’s best for the safety of this data is for you to use the computer in this office to upload it to your computer at the university.”
“I can do that. Hopefully they have a fast pipe here to the Internet.”
“It’s a couple of T-ones,” Sam said.
“I’ll do it.”
Sam called a woman named Olivia and got a password that would access the computer. “John, you are Norman Rawles until I call and tell you otherwise. Close and lock the door. Leave the blinds open. Start the download, put your feet on the desk, and call the police. Tell them that you have reason to believe a robbery is in progress. If you hear shooting call them again and let them know about the guns. Don’t come out for anything. After the download is complete, hide that CD in a drawer or the computer. Don’t take it out until you leave. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“Look natural and absentminded, like you haven’t a care in the world. Come on, Anna.”
At the end of the hall a placard announced the offices of one Oscar Feldman, obviously an executive.
Sam and Anna walked in. “Head down, hat on, and stay behind me,” he said.
Oscar, a balding man with black bushy brows, barely had time to open his mouth in surprise. Sam bee-lined for a back door that led to a hallway with rest rooms and janitorial and utility rooms. They came to a plainly marked door with a green sign that said ROOF-HELIPORT. Through this door they came to another hall, which led to a set of stairs.
“You’ve been here before.”
“Yes.”
“I thought it was illegal to land helicopters on rooftops in Manhattan.”
“It is. But this building has always had one and if you know the right Feds you can get a permit. Cost me a big favor, though.”
As they climbed the stairs, Shohei fell in behind them. On the roof waited a large, white Bell jet ranger helicopter.
Sam paused, turned to Shohei. “It was supposed to be a twin engine.”
Shohei shrugged. “I don’t know how they screwed it up.”
“I never put my clients in a single-engine anything. We’re not going.”
Shohei appeared surprised but nodded agreement.
“Tell the pilots to leave or stay; their choice. Tell them there is danger.”
Shohei ran to the chopper. Anna studied Sam, who frowned and studied the roof.
She let her eyes follow his. Well out of rotor range, the roof accommodated the house over the stairwell, an elevator room, a storage room, and beyond these a lounging area complete with a planter box garden. The patio furniture was bolted down.
The helicopter began to make a loud whining.
“Now what?” she said above the din. “How do we get out of here?”
Sam handed his radio to Shohei. “You might want to tell Scott and Grubb to follow those guys up here.”
Just then the chopper lifted off, climbing steeply and away from the building. Perhaps three hundred yards from the building the jet engine skipped horribly, went silent, and the bird dropped with its rotors nearly motionless. A loud crash came from the street level a quarter mile or more distant.
“Come on, come on,” Sam said to a stunned Anna. “I need your shoes.” She looked bewildered but took them off. Inside the utility building in the far corner, Sam found a green tarp and some sacks of fertilizer and vermiculite for the potted flowers. Turning the shoes upside down to create the appearance of someone kneeling, he jammed the heels under the bags and allowed the very tips of the soles at the toe end to protrude from under the tarp. With the tarp over the bags it was a powerful and convincing illusion.
“Sam, what are you doing?” He was rummaging through some tools; he pulled out a big wrench.
“Stay here,” Sam said, walking out the door to the elevator building. Sam used the wrench to break off the door handle with one big whack. The building was a mechanical room for the elevator motor, the cables, and assorted equipment.
Sam returned and grabbed a ladder from against the wall.
“Crawl up on the shelf,” he said.
“What are you gonna do?” she asked as she climbed.
“I’m going to invite some gentleman to beat me up. We hope it will be a form of aversion therapy. Shohei will be right here and he will make sure that nobody hurts you.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Self-defense is the only way we can legally break their body parts.”
Eighteen
Things were not going well for Gaudet. When he exited the rest room he saw Chellis’s little squad standing outside the glass entry door to the Dyna Science offices. He didn’t want them coming in and making people nervous. Reversing course, he got on the cell as he went back to the rest room.
“Go up to the roof. Verify that Anna and her group have left in the chopper. If they are still there call me. Don’t kill them unless and until I say so.” There was a second part to the plan, if they didn’t take the chopper. The backup was known only to Gaudet and he savored it. But he detested being thrown into a situation where he had to work with others. He hoped the morons could follow instructions.
Anna’s group had left an obvious meat man outside a conference room door. Good trick. Two seconds later a big blond athletic sort, the guy who no doubt could hook and jab in blurs, exited and Gaudet breathed a sigh of relief. Then he realized they also might be headed for the roof. With a throng of body mechanics up top he couldn’t be sure what would happen.
Gaudet peeked in on the man who’d met with Sam and Anna Wade. The good doctor looked like the real thing with his feet up on the desk, talking on the telephone. Gaudet walked swiftly but calmly to May at reception.
“I need to get into the offices and I forgot my fob. At the end of the hall they told me I might obtain a general-purpose fob that will access the various office doors.”
“For all but the executive offices,” she said. “I’ll need to check with Olivia or Mr. Feldman, though, before I
