Transfer of Power

WHEN THEY PULLED her out of the vent, her black sweat suit was covered in dust, as was a healthy portion other ponytail. Rielly flipped over onto her back and sat up. Rapp and Adams were poised just above her, eagerly awaiting the report.

Remembering to keep her voice at a whisper, Rielly nodded her head vigorously.

“They’re doing it. They made it through that outer door you told me about, and they’re working on the big shiny door that leads to the bunker.”

“With what?” asked Adams.

“I’m not sure.” Rielly gestured with her hands.

“I think they’re drills. At least that’s what they sounded like. The guy who’s down the’re pulled out a tape measure and held it up to the door.”

Adams tried to ask another question, but Rapp stuck his hand out and stopped him.

“From the top,” he said to Rielly.

“What did you see?”

Rielly took a deep breath and let her hands fall to her lap.

“I saw three objects attached to the door. Like I said, I think they were drills. On the floor there were two boxes… like toolboxes. One was red and the other one was gray.” Rielly stopped and tried to remember every detail.

“There was one man. He walked from the left side of the room, where I couldn’t see him because that first door isn’t swung all the way open.”

Rielly’s eyes danced over her story as she pictured it.

“The man had a cup in his hand-it was probably coffee-and he walked over to the drills.” Rielly’s left hand was cupped as if she were carrying a mug and the right was held flat.

“He placed his hand on the drills… I think he was checking to see how warm they were.”

Adams nodded knowingly.

“He’s afraid they’re gonna burn out on him.”

Rielly shrugged.

“Well, after he was done doing that, he pulled out a tape measure and held it alongside each drill.”

“What did he look like?” asked Rapp.

“Not like the others.”

“You didn’t see him when you were being held in the mess?”

“No.”

“How did he look different?”

“He was”-Rielly searched for the right adjective-“pudgy and I guess a little older.”

“How old?”

“I’d guess late forties to fifty.”

“Was he armed?”

This one stumped Rielly. Her eyes looked to the ceiling while she tried to remember. After a moment she shook her head and said, “I’m not sure.”

Rapp accepted the answer and tried to think if he was missing anything.

“Did you see anyone else? Hear anything else? Anything you can think of?”

Rielly shook her head.

“Nope. I wasn’t down there very long.”

Rapp reached down and started untying the rope.

“Nice work, Anna. Now I want you to wait here while I go back upstairs and report in. I think we’re gonna have some more work to do, but I have to let them know that their hunch was right.”

Rapp finished untying the rope and stood. Reaching for his gun, he said, “Milt, let’s go.”

Adams struggled up from one knee and pointed at his feet.

“What do I do about shoelaces?”

After looking at Rielly’s white stockinged feet, Rapp said, “Take the boots off and go in your socks. We’re just going up and right back down.”

Adams took the boots off, and then moving toward the door with Rapp, he said sheepishly, “Mitch, I have to go pee again.”

Rapp looked at him sideways. Something clicked in his head, and he stopped. Turning back to Rielly, he asked, “Anna, did you say the guy was drinking coffee?”

Rielly nodded.

“I think so.”

Rapp smiled and glanced at Adams. “Milt, you’re a genius.”