Chapter 43
It was a three-hour drive to the town of Gables, into what Minnesotans called “the northwoods.” Outside Minneapolis the forests grew heavy, broken by fields for farms and the occasional lake. It wasn’t like southern Minnesota with its flat lands and forever corn fields. It got hilly in places, and the highway rolled along.
We followed the interstate for a while, north out of the cities, and when we left it, we got on a state highway that had probably seen better days. It was the middle of the week, thankfully, and whatever traffic there might have been up here in cabin country was clearly not out in force, though we did see quite a few more cars than I would have expected in a county of only twenty thousand people.
I rode in an SUV with Scott, Reed and Zollers. Janus, Kat, Foreman and two agents were in the van behind us. I’d considered bringing more of our security, but frankly, this wasn’t their fight. So instead they were all standing around in the lobby of the Agency, behind barricades, guns pointed at the door in case this was an elaborate bait set up for my benefit.
I doubted it was, but I lost zero points for being too cautious.
Besides, I had an ace in the hole in the van behind us.
“Approaches to the resort are clear,” Harper said in my ear. I could hear her as if she were speaking right to me, though I knew everyone was hearing what I was.
“I’ve got the schematics pulled up,” Rocha said.
“Hacking,” Reed muttered.
“I’ve overlaid them with what Harper has on the infrared,” Rocha said, either not hearing or ignoring Reed’s comment. “Looks like there’s a big meeting going on in a conference room.”
“Hard to tell,” Harper said, “but I’d guess seventy or so people in attendance there.”
“The rest of Century, I presume.” I muttered, and sighed. The SUV’s air conditioner blew cold air into my face.
“We’ve got guards on perimeter duty sporting assault rifles and submachine guns,” Harper went on. “Probably twenty or so hanging around the grounds, another cluster in the main lobby.”
“Any civilians?” Scott asked. I looked over at him in the driver’s seat and he blushed. “I know, I shouldn’t be so soft—”
“No, it’s fine,” I said under my breath. I raised my voice and said, “We get the civilians out first. We’ll assault the main building and do everything we can to ensure that employees of the resort don’t get caught in the crossfire.”
“Hey guys,” J.J. rang in. “I’ve hacked the payroll system and found the resort work schedule for today. Looks like one person on duty in the front desk, fifteen in the kitchen, and eight maids to clean the rooms.”
“Century needs its hot, catered meals, you know,” I said. “Harper, we need likely positions on those people.”
“I’ve got about twenty-five in the kitchen,” Harper said tonelessly. “Some gun carriers among them, so they must be keeping watch on the exit there. I’ve also got eyes on the maids, they’re spread throughout the building.”
“Guys, I just sent the blueprints to your phones, and I have the most recent positions of enemies marked on the map,” J.J. said.
I heard a sequence of dings from everyone in the car, and then one instance of someone’s phone going off and playing Pharell’s “Happy,” as a ringtone. I glanced back at Reed in the backseat and he muted it. “What?” he asked me accusingly. “It’s a great song.”
I looked down at my phone. The blueprints showed a building that looked like half a jack—three long wings jutting out from a central building where I assumed the lobby was. Guards were stationed at the end point of each wing—two per door, by the count of them, and I saw markings to indicate approximately where the maids were.
There was also a big, hand-drawn arrow that led to lettering indicating, “KITCHEN” and “AUDITORIUM.” I figured out the lobby all on my own.
“Yikes,” Reed muttered. “This looks like a hostage crisis.”
“Then we brought the right backup,” I said.
We rolled up to the entry to the resort’s driveway. I knew from the preliminary briefing that we had two miles to the main buildings, and Harper’s eye in the sky told us the nearest sentries were no more than two hundred yards from the resort. So it was clear sailing up until that last bit.
Woods shrouded the entry, flanking the driveway on either side. I slammed the door to my car, cringing and wishing I’d done it more gently. “Let’s look the blueprints over one more time together and prep the assault.” There was the soft sound of crickets from all around us, and then I heard doors start to close more quietly on the other vehicles in our little procession.