The Hypnotist

FORTY-FIVE

But it wasn’t an earthquake at all. The backup teams positioned in the groves of trees just beyond the bungalow heard a rumble, yet the ground they stood on remained still. Just yards away, hundreds of twelve-inch-wide slats of aluminum rose from the ground. In less than twenty seconds, a massive steel fence cut off the building they’d just been staring at. The structure was now hidden from sight. And so was the rest of the compound.

Once the trembling earth had quieted and he could hear the crazy cries of birds reacting to the unnatural occurrence, Special Agent Gary Fulton approached the fence cautiously, gun drawn, aware that if someone had gone to all the trouble of creating a metal moat, they might also have set up booby traps in the ground.

He reached it without incident and inspected the overlapping slats. There were no toeholds. No way they’d be able to scale the smooth wall. Even if they built a ladder of human rungs and they could get an agent to the top, how would he drop down inside?

Running alongside it, Fulton couldn’t see an end to the curving metal wall. How much of the compound was cut off?

There was no time to find out. No time to dig under the fence and tunnel in. He and his men needed to reach the building where Glass and Richmond, Sellers, O’Hara and Jeffries were prisoners.

Fulton got on his radio and called for help. He needed a chopper and he needed it fast.