Black Sun Rising

Chapter Twenty-Nine

"Purdue!" Sam rushed over and crouched beside him. Blood was flowing freely from the open wound. Behind them Nina slammed the door shut again, and then turned to see her blood-soaked lover slumped on the floor. Without a word, she and Sam took hold of Purdue and stripped his bathrobe from him, then folded it a couple of times and held it against the gash in his skin.

"Keep that there," Nina said. "I'm going to call for help." She lifted the receiver on the bedside phone, picking up Purdue's folded clothes from the bed and tossing them to Sam while she waited for an answer. There was none. She hung up and pressed zero again, pulling her own clothes on with her free hand. The phone rang and rang. She tried 911. Instead of clicking straight through to emergency services, that number rang and rang. "They've cut us off somehow," she muttered, hanging up. "Let me take over. You need to get dressed."

Sam did as he was told. He dashed through to the other room where he had left his clothes and pulled them on, returning just in time to hear tapping on the door.

"Open the door, please." They heard Sara's voice from the corridor. "I would like to resolve this without any further bloodshed, but if you continue to resist I will have the hotel call the police. I'm sure they would be interested to hear about why there is a dead woman out here — especially because the knife in her chest has Dave's fingerprints all over it."

Nina, Sam, and Purdue glanced at one another. Sam saw the alarm in Nina's eyes and thought her expression must be a match for his own. With pain in his every movement, Purdue held up a hand, motioning them to be silent.

"Dave, I know you're injured," Sara's voice rang out again. "I'm sure you've already tried to call for help. Well, that won't work until we stop jamming your phone, so if you want to get a medical team here before you bleed out, let me in."

Nina nudged Purdue gently, and Sam watched them have a rapid, silent argument. She flicked her eyes toward the door and gestured at his wound, but he made a small, emphatic gesture with his open palm, refusing any suggestion that they should surrender in exchange for his well-being.

When Sara spoke again, the irritation in her voice was obvious. "This is not going to help, you understand. We can wait here until Dave finishes bleeding to death. Sam, Nina, maybe you'll wait it out a little longer than that. Maybe you'll stay in there a couple more days, who know? You can survive without food for a while. But I can keep someone posted outside your door constantly, and the moment you open it, we'll kill anyone we find and take the key. Or we just call the police and let them take it from there. There's no way for you to get out of this with the key in your possession if you want to keep your lives or your freedom. Give me the key. If you're prepared to promise us secrecy and give up the key, I can promise that you'll get out of here alive."

"Stall her," Sam whispered, leaning in toward Nina and Purdue. "We have to open the door, but you need to keep her talking. I'm going to get downstairs and get help."

"Sam!" Nina reached across Purdue and grabbed Sam's hand. He thought she was about to object to the plan. Arguments that it was the only option they had were on the tip of his tongue. Then she squeezed his fingers between hers. "Be careful," she said. "Don't get hurt."

"I'll do my damnedest," he promised. "I need you to open this for me."

I must be insane, Sam thought as he stood behind the door, waiting for Nina to press the panel that would unlock it. I might be about to get a knife buried in my back. Or a bullet. Or god knows what else. They might just shoot us all as soon as the door opens. But if they don't… I hope I can run fast enough.

The door slid back. Sam exploded out of the room, knocking Sara and the male acolyte back against the wall. He tore along the hallway, pulled open the door to the stairs and ran down, his feet slamming into the concrete, grabbing the handrail to pull himself around corners. He was not sure whether he was being followed. He did not dare to check.

"Well, that's a futile endeavor, isn't it?" Sara strode into the suite, her usual elegant glide abandoned in favor of a stiffer, angrier march. "What does he think he's going to do? Get reception to call the police? Does he really think I don't have the hotel security primed to take him down the second he starts yelling about throwing knives and impossible lock-ins? Sit down, Nina."

She perched in the nearest armchair, the acolyte close behind her, and smoothed her closely fitted black skirt over her knees. Nina considered whether there was anything that she could use as a weapon, any heavy or sharp object that could be thrown, but there was nothing close enough that she could be sure of getting to first. She sat on the end of the bed, helping Purdue to lean against the edge of it.

"I never should have made your invitation a plus one, Dave," she said with a tight smile. "Or at least I should have vetted your guest more closely. If I had known this woman was going to cause so much trouble, I would never have agreed to her coming. She's one of the few people that FireStorm can't help — one of those unfortunates who won't cope well with the new order when it begins."

"New order?" Nina spat. "Just how insane are you? How the hell did you get from large-scale data harvesting disguised as New Age nonsense to… this?" She gesticulated wildly at Purdue's wounded shoulder and the looming acolyte behind Sara's chair.

"Such a closed mind," Sara hissed. "You're so certain that things can never change. The world is in a mess, and it needs a strong vision to bring it back on track. People like you are the problem."

"Their vision is extensive, Nina," Purdue's voice was strained, as he tried to ignore his pain. "It's a complete restructuring of the world as we know it."

"Whether we want it or not? That's been tried before. I specialize in studying the people who tried it."

"Ah, yes," Sara's tone sparkled with forced brightness. "You're the Nazi history specialist. You, of all people, should understand how cheap it is to compare anyone who attempts to build a better world to the Nazis."

"You make it difficult not to," said Nina. Her hands were shaking as she held the towel and she knew that she should not be running the risk of talking back to Sara, but she could not stop herself. "It's not just your dodgy ideology — you're even appropriating the same symbols as they did." She nodded toward the brooch on Sara's lapel.

"Ah," Sara's slender fingers flew to the polished ebony. "The black sun. The energy capable of generating a better race. It's an ancient symbol, Nina, surely you know that? The Nazis were not the only ones to adopt it. If you're trying to suggest that the use of it indicates that our intentions are not good, well… that's an argument as spurious as suggesting that anyone who studies Nietzsche or listens to Wagner is hell-bent on genocide. Good ideas are sometimes co-opted by bad people, Nina. That doesn't mean that we abandon them. But we are wasting time here. Dave is in need of medical attention, I would think. And all he has to do to get it is give me that key."

A little way down the corridor, Sam hauled open the door to the stairwell. Flights of steps stretched before him in both directions. He ran up at first, going far enough to conceal himself while he waited for the door to open again.

It remained closed. I'm not being followed, he thought. That's… good, I suppose? But if they're not following, they're still there. In the room. With Nina and Purdue. That can't be good. And if they haven't followed, it's got to be because they don't need to. Because they know I'll go for help, but there won't be help available… shit. Well, I have to try. I can't stay here all night. Slowly, cautiously, he straightened up and ran lightly down the stairs, thanking whatever fates had deposited them on the fourth floor instead of the fortieth.

The double doors at the bottom of the stairs brought him out into the lobby, which was crowded with people even at this late hour. He looked at the long line of reception staff, wondering whether any of them were safe to talk to. Are any of them part of FireStorm? All of them, maybe? Damn it, I can't assume that anything is safe.

He walked up to the nearest receptionist and flashed his most charming smile, trying to conceal his nervous shortness of breath. "Hi," he said, "I wonder if you could help me? I think there's a problem with the phone in my room, but I need to make a call quite urgently. You don't have another phone I could use?"

The young woman smiled back blandly. "I'm so sorry that there's a problem, sir. Can I take your room number and we'll get someone to take care of it right away?"

"Room 515," Sam lied automatically.

The girl met his gaze. Sam could not decide whether he detected a look of doubt. "Room 515. Right. One of our engineers is on his way. Now let me help you with that call." She picked up the receiver of the phone in front of her. "If you'll just give me the number, I'll be happy to connect you. It will, of course, be complementary."

Sam hesitated. If I say 911, and she's one of them, I'm dead, he thought. If she's not, I might be able to make the call and get us some help — but look at her. She knows. I can see it in her eyes. She's waiting for me to make that mistake.

"It's, er… it's a personal matter," he tried. "I can't really discuss it out in the open here. Don't you have anywhere a little more discreet?"

Her gaze was unflinching. "I'm sorry, sir, but I would have to get my manager to authorize that. Do you want me to call him? It's just that he's dealing with another guest and it might take him a little while to get here, so if your call is urgent… "

"Er, you know what, it's fine," said Sam, backing away. "I've just seen someone I need to talk to anyway. I'll just wait until the phone in our room's been fixed."

"Certainly, sir. Have a pleasant evening." As Sam sidled away from the reception area, he saw the girl pick up the phone. He wondered whether she was calling Sara, or perhaps someone else within FireStorm, or someone they had bribed or coerced. Of one thing he was certain: that call meant danger for him and the others.

"How do we know you won't just kill him?" Nina demanded. "Or leave him to die?"

Sara tapped her long nails against the arm of the chair with growing irritation. "You don't," she said. "But Dave knows that he can trust me, even if he has abused my trust. Once I have his key, we can bring the backup servers online and undo the damage you three have done. You will have been no more than a minor annoyance. We won't be able to risk having Dave at the heart of the operation again, of course, but we would be prepared to keep all three of you on our peripheries. We can provide you with lives, employment, and places to live — in exchange for your loyalty. Gradually you would be able to work your way back into the fold. FireStorm is forgiving — as you would know already, had you embraced it."

"So you're offering to let us live under constant surveillance? What if we refuse? Is that the bit where we end up getting sliced up in the middle of the desert by your drugged followers?"

"That never happened, Nina," Sara lowered her gaze and stared directly into Nina's eyes. "You would do well to remember that."

"And you would do well to go fuck yourself," Nina snarled. "I know what I saw. And I know that you're a fucking psychopath."

Too late Nina realized that she had finally gone too far. Sara's jaw tightened. With great care and precision she crossed one leg over the other, smoothed down her skirt and spoke to the remaining acolyte. "This is getting us nowhere," she said. "Kill him."

The door, Sam thought. There's got to be a phone on the street, or another building I can go to, or even just someone passing by who might let me use their phone.

He strolled casually toward the door. Just going for a late night stroll, he repeated in his head. Taking the air. Stretching my legs.

"Sir?" A tall, broad-shouldered man stepped in front of the door that Sam was approaching. "I'm sorry, sir, but we can't let you go outside just now." The blood froze in Sam's veins as he heard the words. "There's been a police incident on the street outside, and they've requested that we don't let anyone leave the building until they give us the all clear. For your own protection, sir. There are some things you might not want to see out there."

I'll bet, Sam thought. He craned his neck, trying to determine whether there was any truth to the man's story. Sure enough, he detected a slight flicker of a flashing blue light, but nothing more conclusive than that. There's got to be another way out, he told himself. He had seen an emergency exit in the stairwell, but it had been covered in signs warning that it would activate an alarm when opened. Sam was not sure that evacuating the whole building was the way to go. Pausing in the middle of the lobby, he looked around, wondering whether there might be an exit through the kitchens or the laundry.

Then an elevator dropped past him, descending rapidly into the bowels of the building. As it flashed past, Sam caught a glimpse of a face he recognized. Julia Rose.

Nina screamed as the acolyte advanced on Purdue, his knife in his hand. A long stream of angry threats spilled from her lips. She saw Purdue raise his good arm, ready to defend himself as best he could, but she threw herself between the two of them and lunged at the acolyte with her cane.

By sheer luck, she caught him square on the back of the hand and heard a couple of the small bones crack. He dropped the knife and she kicked it away, so charged with adrenaline that she did not even register the pain in her damaged ankle as she moved. The acolyte spun around, ready to go after the lost blade, but Purdue leaped up and flung his good arm round the young man's throat, hauling him backward, giving Nina the split-second she needed to dive across the floor and grab it.

She held it out as she turned back to face the acolyte, prepared for him to have shrugged Purdue off and come after her, but he remained sprawled on the floor. The two men were grappling with each other. It was clear that Purdue would not be able to maintain his grasp for long, but he was putting up as much of a fight as he could. Sara sat by and watched, an expression of distaste on her face. On instinct Nina started to move toward her, planning to make the most of her distraction and do her some harm.

She got no more than two steps before another figure entered the room. Nina did not even stop to think. She jumped behind the man, grabbed his arm and twisted it sharply up his back. Automatically he bent backward, giving Nina the opportunity to press her blade against his throat. She could see it nicking the skin. A fat red drop of blood welled up against the metal.

"Nina… " the man croaked. "What are you doing?"

She nearly let go as she noticed who it was, but recovered herself in the nick of time. "Sorry, Jefferson," she said, "but I don't have a choice."

Without a thought for who might be watching him, Sam ran full speed toward the stairwell and dashed down another flight of stairs, past the spa, the gym, into the housekeeping area where only staff were permitted to go. At the entrance to each new level he stared through the glass panels in the doors, looking for any sign that the elevator had recently arrived.

As he set foot on the top step of the final flight, leading down to the empty laundry, Sam froze. The door below him had swung open and was now slowly falling shut, and someone was climbing the dimly lit stairs with tentative steps.

"Julia Rose!" Sam whispered, as soon as she crept into view. She jumped, gaped at him in terror for a moment, then turned tail and fled back downstairs. Sam went after her, catching her just as she burst back into the basement laundry room. "It's ok, it's ok!" He worked to keep his voice gentle, as she lashed out at him. Glad that he was taller and stronger, he pinned her flailing arms to her sides with as little force as he could. "I'm not going to hurt you. Are you all right?"

"Don't take me back to them," she pleaded, her breathing harsh and shallow, her thin shoulders heaving as she leaned against one of the industrial washing machines. "Please. Sam, you have to help me, they think I betrayed them. When they found me in that cell they thought it was my choice — that I'd sacrificed myself to let Nina go, because they'd go easy on me. Sara said—" Julia Rose stifled a sob, then composed herself again and plowed on. "Sara said that our little plan wasn't going to work, and they were going to make an example of me because she couldn't stand people who try to play one side against another. She thought I'd been faking it when I followed her, Sam! She thought it was all just me trying to get a good story — but I meant it, I really did. I thought she was so… Anyway, she said I could make up for it all at the next hunt. Then they blindfolded me and put me in a helicopter and brought me here. I got away, but the chopper pilot's not looking so good and I feel so bad. That poor guy, what if he's…? I didn't want to hurt him, but I had to get away, and now I don't know where I am or how to get out. Please, Sam. Help me."

Sam groaned and slumped down onto one of the oversized laundry bags. "That's not going to be easy. God, I'm glad you're all right, though. I felt really bad about leaving you there. Look, here's what's happening. Sara is upstairs and she has Nina and Purdue. I need to get help, but I can't get to the phones and they've got people who won't let me outside. We need to get out. We need to get them out."

Julia Rose was quiet, pensive, considering what Sam had just told her. She looked around at the piles of sheets and heavy cotton bags. "Give me your lighter," she said. "I know you have one, you always have one. Give it to me."

It was clear what she was about to do, yet Sam's heart was in his mouth in disbelieving anticipation. Her hand trembled as she took hold of the lighter. She walked across the laundry to the far end, selected a pile of sheets beneath a smoke detector, then flicked the lighter open and held it against the cloth.

"It's better this way," she explained, as she waited for the flame to catch. "If we just broke the glass on an alarm or opened a fire door — that would activate a different symbol on the alarm system than if it's started by genuine flames. This way they'll definitely evacuate." She watched with satisfaction as the flames took hold and a thin trail of smoke spiraled up toward the ceiling.

Sam dragged a few sheets from the nearest pile and laid them over the laundry sacks, making sure there were no gaps that could act as a fire break. The farther the fire spreads, the more time this will buy us, he thought.

"Wait!" Sara held up a hand, stopping the acolyte in his tracks. "Let go."

The acolyte released Purdue without question. Nina tried not to let her hands tremble, afraid of both showing her fear and accidentally slitting Jefferson's throat. Purdue scrambled to his feet. He waved at Jefferson's left hand. "There!" he wheezed, trying to get his breath back. "There! In his hand!"

"What's in your hand?" Nina demanded, squeezing Jefferson's trapped arm.

"I was bringing these to Sara," he replied in strangled tones, opening his fingers to let Purdue see what he was carrying. "What's the matter?"

Without answering, Purdue snatched them from Jefferson's hand. Two small pendants attached to leather thongs dangled from his fingers. He squeezed each one gently, popping them open to reveal that they were truly USB devices. "We have them," he smiled. "All three. Now let us—"

Nina never heard the end of Purdue's sentence. Before he could finish, the air was torn by the screaming of the fire alarm.