Creepers

Another hatch, no different from the others. More eyepieces in the wall.

Now a door to the right, another quadrant. An overhead light revealed primitive exercise equipment, an early version of a treadmill and a stationary bicycle. Balenger imagined Carlisle laboring on them, trying to build the muscle tone and stamina that, along with steroids and vitamin supplements, helped him combat his bleeding. But the heavy weights in the corner had to be Ro

Where Balenger expected to find a bolted, wired hatch and a small metal shutter, he saw a compartment with a door. A button was next to the door. An elevator. Aiming, he opened the door, finding a brass gate and dark shaft.

He closed the door and pushed several weights against it. Then he hurried to the final quadrant, where Vi

"All the trapdoors are secured," Balenger said.

"We bought some time," Vi

Everyone looked at Balenger for guidance.

He felt helpless. "In the Rangers, explosives weren't my specialty."

"But you must have had some training in them," Amanda said.

"Not enough." Balenger crossed toward the metal box.

Behind him, he heard Tod ask, "How come the shutters on the windows are so small?"

"We told you Carlisle was agoraphobic," Vi

Except once, Balenger thought, remembering that the old man shot himself on the beach.

"The only views he could have tolerated," Cora said, "were through small windows."

"What a nutjob." Tod shifted several vials, examining them. "Never heard of some of this stuff."

"They're blood-clotting agents," Vi

"Not this one. It's morphine. Did he like to shoot up?"

"Carlisle needed it for the pain when blood seeped into his joints."

"Into his joints? Now I've heard everything. The label on the morphine's from 1971." Tod looked tempted to put it in his pocket, then thought better. "Stuff probably doesn't work anymore. It's probably poison by now."

Balenger unzipped his Windbreaker and shoved the pistol into his shoulder holster. Kneeling, he studied the wires co

They didn't move.

Except Tod. "Guess I'm the only one with the brains to take cover." He went into the bedroom.

"If that thing blows up, I have a feeling it won't make a difference where we are," Cora said.

Vi

Balenger gave them a look of respect, then held his breath and pulled the wires from plugs on the lever. He exhaled and gently lifted the box's lid.

They peered over his shoulder.

"Plastic explosive." Balenger managed to keep his voice calm. "The detonator's pushed into a block of the stuff."

"The thing that looks like a short pencil, is that the detonator?" Cora asked.

"Yes. There's some kind of electronic device hooked to it. When the trapdoor rises, it flips the lever and brings these wires in contact with another pair of wires. That closes a battery-driven circuit and triggers the detonator."

"Can the electronic device be activated by remote control?" Vi

"Don't know. It might also be programmed to blow up if anybody cuts the wires. The simplest tactic…" Balenger steadied himself. "… is to pull the detonator from the block of explosive."

"Maybe motion also sets it off," Vi

"Then we're back to where we started, and we wait to see if Ro

"Damned if we do, damned if we don't," Vi

"We're damned, all right," Amanda said.

Balenger wiped sweat from his brow. He reached into the metal box, then hesitated and took off his gloves. Again, he reached into the box. Thunder made him flinch. Working to control his trembling fingers, he gently pulled the detonator out. He lifted the block of explosive from the box-it felt like putty-and set it a distance away.

Vi

"You mean like nitroglycerin and the slightest jolt blows it up? No." Balenger dried his palms on his jeans. "Plastic explosive's stable. You can pound it with a hammer. You can throw it against a wall. You can hold a lit match against it. The stuff won't go off unless there's a preliminary explosion with enough heat to do the job." He pointed toward the block he'd put aside. "Right now, that's one of the least dangerous things in this hotel."

"I'm not encouraged," Cora said.

"Six to go," Balenger said with the tone of someone rolling a boulder up a hill. "If Ro

Urgency accumulating in him, he headed toward the bedroom to disable the bomb in there. "There's an elevator in the exercise room," he said to Amanda. "Does it work?"

"I don't know."

"Cora, you said you couldn't find keys for some of the rooms."

"Yes. The penthouse, Danata's suite, and a column of rooms from three twenty-eight all the way up to six twenty-eight."

"I think we know what's behind the doors to those rooms. The shaft for Carlisle's private elevator."

"All these lights," Vi

"No," Amanda said. "No one can see the lights. Ro

Balenger cursed and hurried to the trapdoor in the bedroom.

"I watched what you did," Vi

"Slow and careful."

"Bet on it."

"Tod?" Balenger shouted.

"I'm in the surveillance room watching the monitors!"

Balenger went to the door on the opposite side of the bedroom and peered inside. An array of screens showed green-tinted night-vision images.

Tod's facial tattoos were rigid with concentration. "Maybe we'll get a look at what this psycho's doing."

The top row of monitors displayed various angles of the hotel's exterior, but the rain was so dense that Balenger had difficulty seeing the outside walls and metal shutters. A lower row of screens revealed parts of the hotel's dark interior: the lobby, the collapsed staircase, the fire stairs, and the utility room, where a hidden camera was aimed toward the door through which they'd entered from the tu

"So far all I saw were rats, a bird, and a freaky cat with three back legs," Tod said.

"The cat's begi

"That must be where Ro