Chapter 13
“What do you mean she’s looking for you?” Ben said sharply to the man who had introduced himself as Nick.
“Look, I’ve already said too much,” he replied, shaking his head, and looking out the taxi window.
A chime came from the handlink, and Jenn looked up. “Ziggy says there’s only a thirty percent chance this guy got mixed up in things by accident, Ben.” She clenched her jaw. “You don’t think he’s… a third leaper? I mean, he did kind of sense me, right?”
Ben pressed his lips together, keeping in check his urge to reach out and grab the man’s hand. He knew that if it did turn out to be another leaper, that would be giving himself away, and he was not aware of this man’s intentions.
Nick pointed to a building ahead. “There it is.” Sure enough, the CMFTV sign was lit up on the side. “Now will you help me or not?”
Ben looked to Jenn for help.
“Don’t look at me,” she said. “This guy could be anybody. Ziggy hasn’t got any ideas. Only advice I can give is proceed with extreme caution, but that’s obvious.” Then, another noise came from the handlink, and she checked it. “Oh, thank God. Sam’s gonna be back real soon. Try to stall this guy a little to buy time ’til he gets here.”
Ben gave her a subtle nod, and met Nick’s eye nervously.
“Okay, I’ll get you in,” he said, “but promise me you won’t just walk on into that studio without a plan. Without backup. Without something.”
Nick raised an eyebrow. “Are you proposing to help me?” His voice was high-pitched and hopeful.
“Yes,” said Ben. “This woman is dangerous. She could shoot you on sight. The least I could do is watch your back if you really plan on giving yourself up to her.”
“That’s actually a great idea,” said Jenn. “You know, roving reporters usually have a stash of Kevlar vests in case of dangerous situations just like this. You could start with that.”
“Th- thanks James… this means a lot,” Nick said, opening his wallet and throwing some cash at the cab driver before jumping out of the car.
Ben shared a lingering look with Jenn before he got out the other side. Jenn simply stood up, her head and shoulders poking out of the top of the cab until it drove away, leaving her whole again.
Ben and Nick headed for the entrance to the building—it didn’t appear that the cops had arrived yet to set up a perimeter, which was a small relief, but Ben figured they would be there any minute.
On the other hand, there were people pouring out of the front entrance, all looking terrified for their lives.
Ben turned to Nick. “I think we’d better find another way in, huh?” He looked past him to Jenn.
“Getting the floor plan now,” she said, busily tapping at the handlink. “Okay… head around to the…” She squinted, apparently trying to reconcile what she was seeing from the handlink with the building in front of her. Finally, she pointed to the west side of the building. “…That way.”
“This way,” Ben relayed to Nick, beckoning him as he followed Jenn around to the side of the building.
The side fire door was propped open, with a few people congregating outside of it, having just left their post.
“I’ll distract these guys while you slip in,” Ben said in a low voice to Nick. “Find a place to hide and I’ll call your name when I get inside. From there we can plan our next move.”
“It’s like you’ve done this before,” Nick remarked, eyebrows raised.
“Well, you know, in my line of work, you have to think on your feet.”
With that, Ben strode ahead to the five people talking animatedly amongst themselves.
“Hey, I just got back from chasing a lead,” he said, manoeuvring himself to the outer side of the group. “What’s going on in there? Is there a fire or something?”
The small group turned to face him, away from the door, giving Nick the opportunity to go inside.
“Some bitch went crazy on air,” said a short, stout man. “Pulled a gun on Ross!”
“Oh my god!” Ben feigned shock.
“She said she planted a bomb at City Hall too,” a woman said, looking incredibly shaken.
“God I hope Ross is alright,” said another lady. “I’m so frightened for him.”
“You know… I think we should all get away from this building,” Ben said. “What if she kills Ross and comes out looking for more victims?”
“You’re right,” said an older man. “Who knows what she’s gonna do next? Hell, dere could be a bomb somewhere at da station, too! Let’s get outta here before it blows!”
Ben watched the now-panicked group start to move away from the door. He dropped to the back of the pack, and then broke away, making a beeline for the fire door. On his way inside, he kicked aside the brick holding the door open and let it swing shut behind him.
“Nick? You in here?” Ben paused, realising that Jenn was no longer with him either. “N-Nick?”
“Over here!” came a muffled reply. Ben followed the voice around a corner, seeing Nick emerging from the men’s room. “I assume you know your way around this place. Which way do we go?”
Ben did not, in fact, know his way around; he’d only seen the path from the front entrance to the studio, and subsequently, James’s office.
“Well, I would suggest we start by finding the Kevlar vests…” he said, turning his head each way along the corridor. “I just… I’m not sure where to find them.”
“I thought you said you were a reporter here,” Nick said, eyes narrowing.
“Sure I am,” said Ben. “You don’t typically wear bulletproof vests to cover a teenager playing jump rope, though…”
“Jump rope?”
“Live coverage during the breakfast show tomorrow—don’t miss it.” He picked a direction and marched down the hall, Nick’s rubber soled sneakers squeaking as he followed.
After trying a few different doors and finding mostly offices, Ben finally came upon the wardrobe department, where a few pieces of clothing had been discarded on the floor, presumably when the order to evacuate had been sounded.
On the racks within, Ben found four bulletproof vests, to his eternal relief. He passed one to Nick, and grabbed one for himself, fitting it.
“I hear it still hurts like hell if you get shot with one of these on,” he remarked as he tightened the straps. “But as long as we don’t… die…” he trailed off as he turned around and noted that Nick was gone. “…Nick?”
His eyes jumped to the double doors, which were closed. He hurried to them and attempted to open them, only to find it was stuck. Had Nick blocked the door?
“Hey!” he yelled, banging on the doors.
“Sorry James,” Nick’s voice came from the other side. “You’ve been a big help, but you can’t come with me. So thanks. Do yourself a big favour and don’t follow me.”
A few shoe squeaks could be heard as he retreated from the door, and Ben let out a frustrated wail.
* * *
Sam fired up the Imaging Chamber, only to find Ben slamming his shoulder against a door. It barely moved.
“Ow, dammit,” he grumbled.
“Ben? What’s going on here?” Sam peered around the room, noting the racks of clothing. Ben had at least made it into the station, so that was something. But now he was stuck?
Ben rubbed at his arm, turning to Sam with a frustrated look on his face. “You took your time getting here. Was Addison’s Mom so riveting that this life-or-death situation could be put on hold?”
“Sorry, Ben.” Sam looked away from his accusatory expression. “It’s a long story. But what happened here? They told me there might be a third leaper?”
“Maybe—I wasn’t game to reveal myself to him, so I kept my hands clear,” Ben said. “Maybe for good reason, ’cause he just trapped me in here. Whoever he is, I think he plans on confronting that woman alone.”
“God… who could it be?” Sam wondered before looking at the doors. “That’s an internal lock…”
Ben nodded. “Yeah, and it’s open. The door’s stuck some other way.”
“I’ll check the other side,” Sam said, passing through the wall. It became clear that the doors had a broom slotted into the handles, preventing their free movement. Sam returned to Ben. “The old broom-in-the-handle trick,” he said. “Give it a good kick, and keep going until that broom handle either shifts out or breaks.”
He pointed to the crack between the handles. “Aim your kicks here to give it the most pressure on the rod.”
Ben stepped back, and kicked at the door feebly.
“You gotta give it more oomph than that,” Sam said, demonstrating with his own front kick. Not quite the roundhouse kick he was known for, but that wasn’t the right kind of kick for every situation. Just most.
“Sorry,” Ben said, trying again. This time the double doors shook violently, but the broom remained.
“That was good, Ben. Just keep going with that, okay?” He looked up from the handlink. “I’m gonna go check what’s going on in the studio.”
Ben nodded, wiping the beginnings of sweat droplets from his forehead as he tried again.
Sam tapped in a few settings on the handlink—which he was really getting the hang of now—and centred himself just inside the news studio, where a terrified Ross had his hands splayed on the desk. He was sobbing and begging for his life.
“Would you please shut the hell up?” Margaret Cartwright—or the leaper using her face—moaned. “You’re the most irritating bargaining chip I’ve ever had to deal with. Get a hold of yourself, man.” She rolled her eyes, looking to an empty space to her left. “Are you sure I can’t just shoot him now?”
She’s got a hologram, Sam realised. He was about to move himself back to Ben when the large studio doors swung open.
“Let him go. I’m here, so you can just let him go. Please.”
As Sam laid eyes on the familiar-looking man, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.
Uh-oh.
The blonde woman flashed a dead-eyed smile at the man.
“Ah. Good of you to make it.” She looked to her hologram. “Gee, we should have tried something like this ages ago. So, should we do what he says?”
She listened to the invisible person for a moment, before turning back to the man. “Not just yet. Come on over here, we want to make sure it’s really you.”
She held out a hand to him, and he gingerly walked through the cameras and cables, into the bright studio lights, placing a shaking hand onto hers.
Sam was unable to see the resulting effect, but the look on the woman’s face told him everything he needed to know.
Hurriedly, he returned to Ben using the handlink. Ben had managed to escape the room and was charging down the corridor towards the studio. Upon seeing Sam, he stopped abruptly, huffing and puffing.
“Ben, that man in there…” Sam said weakly. “He is another leaper. And it’s… me.”