Panic

Chapter 13

Christina’s eyelids flickered, letting in some of the dim light. She was sitting upright, that much she could tell, and the chair was cold and hard. She tried to stand up, but found she couldn’t move. A quick glance confirmed she was tied to a chair with some kind of rope, unable to move her limbs or hands. The room where she was sat was warm and smelled of dust, as if it hadn’t been used in quite some time.

She blinked hard several times and the room shifted slowly into focus as her eyes tried to make out familiar shapes in the gloom. A gray shadow moved in the corner. There was something else in the room with her.

“Are we awake?” asked the shadow.

Christina tried to speak but couldn’t find the words. The shadow moved again, drawing nearer. She could make out a face now, and eyes flecked with silver, catching the little light available in the room.

“We’re going to have some fun with you,” said the shadow.

Christina felt a hand on her shoulder. The shadow caressed her bare skin with thick, rough palms, gently stroking her neck and arms. She wanted to be sick. Whatever drugs were in her system were playing tricks on her mind. This wasn’t happening.

Then Christina saw the knife and screamed.

 Chapter 14

Jerome pulled the SUV over to the curb on West 114th and turned off the engine. After a cursory sweep of the vehicle’s exterior, the bodyguard located a small black box fixed to the inside of one of the wheel arches. He tossed the device into a nearby trash can and kneeled down to get a better view of the undercarriage. Satisfied, he gave the all clear and gestured the others out of the car.

Columbia University’s enormous Butler Library backed onto the street, which was lined with rows of brick-fronted apartment buildings owned by the University Trust. The street was adorned with flags, hanging haphazardly from the many bookstores and apartment blocks that loomed overhead, but the wind hadn’t yet picked up enough to rouse them. Jerome fed a handful of change into the parking meter, and the three of them made toward a set of tall black gates that opened onto the rear entrance path to the University’s Morningside campus.

It was only just midday and the sun was out in full, along with what seemed like the entire university student body. The path opened out onto an enormous courtyard, with Butler Library at the closest end and the Low Memorial Library at the farthest. In between the two buildings was an expansive grassy area signposted as South Lawn, which was intersected with pathways leading up to the steps of the library, where a crowd of students shuffled around looking for their parents following the graduation ceremony earlier in the day. Hundreds of others were either walking through the campus or were sitting on the grass reading, laughing, or playing Frisbee. Leopold led the way toward the Low Memorial Library steps at the far end of the lawns, where the University’s administrative departments were housed, weaving in and out of the crowd.

“I ran a search on Stark,” said Jerome, catching up to Leopold and holding out his cell phone. “There’s an entry on here from several years ago that caught my eye.”

“Ex-military?” asked the consultant.

“Yes, just like the senator said. Except this particular branch of the military only takes the best of the best. Stark was the leader of a black ops team stationed in the Middle East until five years ago.”

“What happened?”

“Stark was discharged for engaging the enemy during a ceasefire,” said Jerome. “Turns out nobody told him the war was over. His entire unit was rounded up and sent packing.”

“Great, just what we need,” said Leopold. “A team of super-soldiers with a grudge. Let’s hope Stark’s on our side.”

“We’d know if he held a grudge against us,” said Jerome, pointing to the screen. “Apparently, he flew into a rage after his commanding officer took the stand. Threatened to assault the man as he took his seat.”

“Not a fan of authority figures?”

Jerome nodded and kept walking. The Low Library building loomed overhead, casting a shadow over the steps as the sun crept slowly overhead. The entrance was sheltered by ten towering columns, over fifty feet tall and made from gleaming white marble. Inside, the domed ceiling rose one hundred feet above the main hall, and the walls were lined with busts of notable Greek and Roman philosophers, who glared menacingly at the crowd of students going about their business below. Leopold led Jerome and Mary through to the back of the hall, blinking hard as his eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light.

“To find Christina,” said Leopold, his voice echoing slightly, “we need to access the University’s student records and track down where these classmates of hers live, so we can ask them a few questions.”

“How can we get access?” said Mary.

“All I need to do is scan the area for the University’s wifi network,” said Leopold. “My cell phone can emit a radio frequency that will block all wireless transmissions within a fifty foot radius, cutting off access to anyone linked up to the network. Then, when we turn off the jammer, we can piggyback on another device as it tries to log back in.”

“I have no idea what you just said,” said Mary, “but I guess that means you can hack into the University’s files?”

“Yes. But you make it sound so simple,” said Leopold.

Mary smiled and shrugged. Leopold swiped the cell phone’s screen to unlock it and proceeded to activate the program. Less than a minute later, the software co

“They’re not far,” said Jerome, “living in university-owned accommodation on the corner of 114th and Broadway.”

“Fantastic,” said Mary. “Looks like we parked in the right spot.”

Chapter 15

Stark was a patient man. He had completed tours in Afghanistan, Iraq, and countless other places where he and his team of highly trained soldiers could be best put to use. If the government needed delicate work carried out with zero exposure, Stark and his team were the number one choice. On the forty-seven missions he had commanded, Stark had always achieved his objectives and he was not about to break his wi

Following several unscheduled visits to the house, Stark had advised the senator to make sure that a member of his team was present during all meetings, to ensure any security risks were properly managed. The senator had eventually agreed, on the condition that the colonel himself be present and that anything said during the meetings be treated in the strictest confidence. Stark didn’t relish the idea of bugging every room in the house, so he had agreed and signed a nondisclosure form.

Today’s meeting was with the three businessmen from Washington, one of several meetings they had held in the last week that Stark had been forced to endure. Standing quietly at the back of the richly-decorated room, the soldier thought back with fondness to his days in combat. Hopefully, his chance would come again soon.

“Senator, I’m sure you can understand the situation we’re in here,” said one of the suits, a smug expression on his face.