Harper nodded. Jack and the agents left, closing the door behind them.
“See?” said Leopold. “That wasn’t so hard.”
“Do you always talk this much?” said Harper, pulling on her jacket.
“I was never a fan of awkward silences.”
“Let’s get this over with.” She went to the door. “You coming?”
Leopold smiled and got to his feet. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Chapter 46
TREVOR’S WATCH VIBRATED with a silent alarm. He touched the button to stop it. When the face illuminated in green, he smiled. His self-imposed isolation had almost come to and end.
Hold it together. Steady and ready.
In the dark, he found his phone, turned it on, and checked the local news alerts. The handset connected after a few seconds, the browser taking a moment to catch up. The screen refreshed and displayed the latest alerts. Trevor stared at the screen, his eyes struggling to adjust to the glare.
What the hell?
A blurry cell phone video of Seattle Center park flashed up. A mad rush of people, police cars, ambulances. He paused the video and switched to a different report. Frowning, he read the full article. Then another. The city was in panic and the President had been diverted. The convention center and hotel had been locked down. Something about a major traffic collision. An escape attempt. The reports were sketchy, full of conjecture and hyperbole, but the implications were clear.
Trevor felt his heart rate jump. If the President had backed out, Melendez might jump ship and leave the hotel, no doubt surrounded by security. The conference had been cancelled; there was no reason for him to stick around. Trevor’s mind raced, calculating his options. He took a deep breath, steadied his nerves, and concentrated.
With the hotel sealed and the roads blocked off, maybe Melendez hadn’t left yet. Maybe he was still in his room. Trevor cursed himself for falling asleep earlier. If he’d been awake, maybe he would have heard something. Maybe Melendez had been moved, no way to be sure.
Not without seeing for himself.
Trevor took a caffeine pill and washed it down with the last of his water. He did a set of push-ups, followed by a set of sit-ups, followed by squats. He did them all over again to fully wake his body and mind, and then one more time after that. Feeling the caffeine kicking in, he inspected his gear.
Using the penlight, he fished out a length of piano wire, his KA-BAR knife, and a small crowbar. He stashed the wire in a pocket, slipped the bar under his belt. Next, he pocketed an extra magazine of rounds for his pistol, along with the custom sound suppressor. He screwed the fitting into place and then holstered the gun.
Taking one last leak in the waste bucket, he rubbed the remnants of his long night of darkness from his face. Folding his clothes neatly and setting them on top of his bag, he crawled over to the access hatch. Silently, he removed the screws and set the panel aside. He crouched low, listening out for movement below.
A few minutes passed. A few more. Trevor checked his watch. The news had broken almost ninety minutes earlier, and the hallway was silent. He had expected pandemonium, panic. His pulse quickened once more.
Maybe Melendez got out.
He steeled himself. No sense in conjecture, no point wondering what might be. Perhaps the floor had been sealed off, which would explain the lack of movement. Maybe all the action was happening downstairs. No way to tell. He checked his watch.
A rumbling noise, and Trevor tensed. The elevator was on the move. Trevor gripped the KA-BAR a little tighter. Someone was on the way up, probably one of Melendez’s security team. Hopefully not the big guy.
Stick to the plan, he thought. He needed that room key. And if the other bodyguard was camped outside Melendez’s room, he’d need to take the first out quickly with the knife. Then round the corner, take the other out with the pistol. No time for nerves. Steady and ready.
A soft chime sounded. A rattling clatter, the elevator doors opening. The muffled noise of footsteps on the carpet, shuffling fabric. There were no other sounds, other than the thumping of Trevor’s heartbeat in his ears. The footsteps grew louder, heavier. Whoever they belonged to must have been packing some serious bulk.
A shadow passed beneath Trevor’s hiding place, sweeping across the carpet and up the walls. Moving slowly, a figure came into view. Tall, the man’s head just a foot or so from the ceiling. Short, dark hair. Dressed in a black suit. He couldn’t make out the face. The man swept past.
Time to move.
Trevor felt his muscle memory take over. Instead of jumping, he dropped from the hatchway, letting gravity do all the work. He landed softly behind his target, bending his knees to absorb the impact. The man froze.