Private Games

Chapter 118

KNIGHT HEARD THE gunshots and Lancer’s booming threat through an exhaust grate in the ceiling of the ductwork several feet beyond the gas line and the triggering device.

He didn’t have time to try and defuse the trigger, and for all he knew Lancer had booby-trapped it to go off if it was tampered with.

‘How about cutting off the tanks?’ he asked over his radio.

‘It’s a disaster, Peter,’ Jack shot back. ‘He’s welded the valves open.’

Above him, Lancer launched into a longer tirade, beginning with the doctors in Barcelona who had drugged him to prevent him from winning gold in the decathlon, from being named the greatest all-around athlete in the world. And in the background, Knight could hear the petrified crowd trying to escape the stadium. He understood he had only one chance.

He pushed the blowtorch forward and crawled after it, past the gas line and the triggering device, until he lay beneath the exhaust grate.

Through the slats he saw flashes of approaching lightning and the billowing glow of the Olympic flame still burning.

Four bolts held the grate in place. All of them looked sealed in some kind of chemical resin. Maybe he could melt it.

Knight grabbed the blowtorch and ignited it. As fast as he could, he heated the resin until it melted. Then he grabbed the nearest bolt head with the pliers on the Leatherman tool that Meeks had given him and wrenched at it. He felt thrilled when it gave.