Paula dropped the phone and turned to George. “We have to get to the safe room! Now!”
“How can we get to it?” George blurted as he scrambled to pull on a pair of pants. Being naked made him feel even more vulnerable, if that was at all possible.
Paula turned back to the security pad, and they watched as the intruders flew back out of the master bedroom and paused, as if confused about what to do next.
“They’re searching for me,” she whispered over the sound of the alarm. “Who the hell are they?”
“Lord knows! They can’t be FBI or SWAT.” He remembered that the team of men who had invaded his apartment all had their affiliations clearly blazoned on their uniforms. These people did not.
They watched as one of the men made a call on what they guessed was a cell phone.
“Follow me,” Paula said quietly. “There are back stairs to the second floor just outside the guest suite.”
“Is that the best idea? The safe room is in the basement?”
Paula nodded toward the screen. “They already checked the master bedroom. We should go there and use the hidden slide.”
George nodded his understanding.
They slipped out of the guest suite, Paula pulling George behind her as they ducked into the back stairway behind what looked like a closet door. Once there, they began creeping up the dark wooden steps. At the top, Paula came to an abrupt halt and ducked down, causing George to bump into her, nearly tripping over her crouched figure. She pointed ahead, down the second-floor hallway to a dark figure standing at the head of the main stairway, blocking their route. With no other option, they cowered in the darkness at the head of the back stairs and waited. The raucous noise of the alarm stopped as suddenly as it had started.
A whistle came from below, and the man silently sprinted down the steps in response.
“Now!” Paula whispered. She scrambled forward, urging George to follow. She hurried down the hall toward the master bedroom.
Hearing footsteps, the man who had just descended the stairs looked up, spotting them dashing past in the half light. “Stop!” he yelled.
They ignored him and kept running for the bedroom.
The man leaped up the stairs two at a time, yelling over his shoulder to his colleagues. “I have them! Master bedroom!”
George and Paula burst into the master bedroom, slamming the door shut as the man chasing them ran into it. George braced himself against the door while Paula flicked the lock.
The intruder threw his full body weight at the locked door, but it was lined with steeclass="underline" another level of protection ordered by the former owner, for which George and Paula were now thankful. The man out in the hall repeatedly lunged at it, crashing into it presumably with his shoulder. It rattled but held.
The master bedroom was almost pitch-dark, with just an inkling of light coming in through the curtains covering the sliding glass doors that led to a balcony overlooking the pool area. They made their way over to the wood panel that covered the chute, with George holding on to Paula’s nightgown. Locating the handhold ingeniously camouflaged in the panel’s trim, Paula yanked open the panel to the chute. A whiff of comparatively stale, humid air wafted up from the chute in stark contrast to the highly air-conditioned air of the bedroom.
Paula grabbed George’s arm and pulled him toward the yawning maw. George hesitated. Throwing himself down a black hole willy-nilly was a scary proposition, even though he had already done it earlier. But then it wasn’t dark in the room.
“Go!” Paula commanded in a harsh voice. The man in the hall continued to pound away at the door. Boom! But now they could hear the sound of wood splintering. George realized that while the door itself might not give way, its frame was about to.
Sensing he could not hesitate another second, George launched himself feetfirst down the chute. The walls were of polished metal, and only an instant later he hit the cushioned floor of the basement. In the utter blackness he groped for a landmark. As he started to stand, Paula collided with him, knocking him forward onto his hands and knees.
“Sorry,” she managed.
“It’s okay.” He scrambled to his feet again and then began inching forward with his hands outstretched, swinging them in a tight arc in the direction of the safe room in the hope of connecting with something to orient him.
He felt Paula place her hand on the small of his back, urging him forward toward the safe room’s door. Then, for the second time that night, they were stunned. On this occasion, it was even more frightening than when the front door was blown open.
51
George and Paula were frozen in place, blinking against a blinding bright light shining directly at them. They were immediately set upon by several of the intruders, who grabbed them and bound their hands behind their backs with plastic ties. Whoever these people were, they were in a hurry. Not a word was spoken.
“Who are you and what do you want?” Paula demanded. With the anxiety of the actual chase over, her terror had morphed into rage.
The men ignored her and placed black hoods over George’s and Paula’s heads. Rapidly, they half dragged and half carried their two captives to the stairs, where they were unceremoniously hauled up to the main floor. Then, just as quickly, they were propelled out the back door, wincing in pain as their bare feet trod across the stone walkway to the alley.
Paula started to yell out but was immediately thumped on her back with a club. “You’ll lose all your teeth if you do that again,” a captor sneered.
George overheard the threat and remained silent. The next thing they knew, they were being forced into a van, pushed down to the metal floor, and covered with what felt like a heavy blanket. A moment later the door to the van was slammed shut, and they could feel the vehicle begin to move, slowly at first, along the alley. A few seconds later it lurched forward as it accelerated in the open street. Both George and Paula repositioned themselves to make breathing easier.
Their movements brought rapid retaliation. They could feel their captors above them pushing down with their boots to keep them from moving. They heard a police siren in the distance, but the blaring sound faded as the van raced in the opposite direction.
So much for the police, George thought, discouraged. They would find nothing but an empty house.
After several minutes George risked a whisper: “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I brought this on you. I tried to make sure I had not been followed.”
“They must have tracked your car with GPS,” Paula answered back just as quietly.
“Maybe so,” George said. He’d never given a thought to having been tracked wirelessly.
“Regardless, it’s not your fault. I’m sorry, too,” she added.
“Quiet!” one of the men above them snapped. The boots pressed down harder.
George was aware they were moving quickly through the city streets, which he knew had little traffic at that hour. Despite the earlier warning, George moved to try to get more comfortable, forcing Paula to do the same.
“Stay still!” one of the captors warned.
As they rode in silence George tried not to think about what was going to happen to them or why they were being abducted. Their captors seemed professional and highly trained from the way they functioned with such efficiency, without the need to talk. He wondered if they were government agents because of their lack of identity, but that didn’t make any sense, since he’d already been arrested. In fact, the only government agency that would act in this manner was the CIA. He couldn’t believe that anyone thought he and Paula were terrorists, needing rendition to some place like Guantánamo.