Alex tried not to wither under that intense gaze. He noticed a faint blue nimbus of energy glowing around the outer ring of the sorcerer’s irises. It gave him a disturbing, other-worldly look.
Almost on cue a low, grinding rumble filled the room. It started faintly but in the quiet, everyone heard it.
“Get ready,” Callahan growled in a voice that was soft enough not to be loud, but forceful enough to carry. “Sorenson, wake up O’Mally.”
All around the storage room policemen and detectives roused themselves, checking their sidearms and crushing out their cigarettes.
“Saved by the bell, eh, Lockerby?” Barton said with a sardonic smile. He snapped his fingers and the hammock vanished, leaving him to float down to the ground as if he were no heavier than a feather. “This is actually rather exciting,” he said. He opened his hand and arcs of blue energy danced between his fingers.
“I’d rather you stayed here with me, Mr. Barton.” Captain Rooney said. “The governor would have my hide if anything happened to you.”
“He’s got a point, sir,” Callahan said. “This might get dicey and I can’t have you distracting my men.”
Barton closed his hand and pouted.
“All right,” he said in a way that reminded Alex very much of a five-year-old. That ability to switch between corporate tycoon and petulant child seemed prevalent in all sorcerers, if the stories were to be believed. It was what made them so dangerous.
Alex smiled at the thought of Sorsha behaving that way. She simply didn’t have it in her.
Maybe it only applies to men.
As the grinding sound got loud enough that Alex could feel it in the floor, he moved from his cover next to Barton and scurried up to where Danny crouched behind a box.
“You ready for this?” Alex asked.
Danny smiled and nodded.
“Looks like you were right.”
Alex held his breath as the words washed over him. He’d believed he was right, he knew he was right all the way down to his core. Everything fit. But he didn’t realize until that moment just how much he needed to hear someone else say it.
It had been obvious to him the moment Jessica had asked him to take her to the museum. The same museum that had stored a king’s ransom in salvaged gold in its vault, thanks to a court case.
According to the papers, the treasure of the Almiranta was worth over one hundred million dollars. A far greater prize than any mere bank. On top of that, literally, was Andrew Barton and John D. Rockefeller’s elevated crawler station, connected by electrified rail directly to Empire Tower. All the thieves had to do was tie the electric motor to it with the copper cable they stole, and they were in business. From there the operation was simple, dig through into the museum’s secure storage room from the abandoned subway tunnels, steal the gold, and use their stash of stolen trucks to get it out of the city.
Since Alex and Danny found their trucks, they would have had to make new plans, but with the court case being thrown out, they were out of time. If they didn’t move on the gold tonight, they’d lose their chance.
Alex smiled with satisfaction at figuring it all out.
Finally.
A crack appeared in the far wall of the storage room and the wall bulged out slightly.
“Douse the light,” Callahan said. “Stay hidden. Nobody move until I give the word. Remember, they’ve got a hostage with them.”
The single magelight on the ceiling went out, plunging the room into inky blackness.
Alex’s smile at his own cleverness faded when Callahan mentioned Leroy. If the thieves had been delaying, looking for another way to get the gold away, they might have already finished their tunnel. If that had happened, they wouldn’t need Leroy any more.
Alex figured they’d want to keep him around for the last push into the vault.
Or rather, he hoped they did.
A chunk of masonry fell out of the wall and a massive boring bit as big around as dinner plate pushed into the room. Light bled through around it, making it look like a glowing rune circle. A moment later, the bit was pulled slowly back, and light flooded into the storage room.
Alex and the police all ducked out of sight. A few minutes later they heard sounds of someone pulling debris away from the hole.
“We’re in,” a Jersey-accented voice said.
Alex smiled. He knew that voice, and it explained one of the few pieces still missing from this puzzle.
“Hit it again,” the voice said.
A moment later a humming sound came through the hole, followed shortly by the grinding noise of the boring bit. It took a few more minutes, but it punched another hole in the back wall, sending bits of broken masonry and debris scattering across the floor.
The sounds of sledge hammers came next as the thieves broke open the hole.
“That’ll do it,” Jersey accent said. Alex could hear him enter through the hole. “Bring the flashlights and spread out. Focus on the small stuff and find the entropy stone.”
Men began to move into the room, opening the nearest crates full of ancient American gold. Danny flexed his hand, tightening his grip on his service .38. Alex wondered if Callahan could see what was happening. He’d deployed his men well back from the wall that faced the subway tunnels, but if he let the thieves get too far in, they were bound to stumble across some of his men.
“Hands up!” Callahan’s voice boomed through the room. At the same moment all the lights in the room were turned on. “Stay where you are.”
Danny and the other officers and detectives rushed the room, leveling their weapons at the startled men with flashlights.
“Cops!” Jersey yelled, still in the back by the hole.
A couple of the thieves rushed the cops and gunshots erupted in the space. Jersey turned and ran.
“Where are you going, Jimmy?” Alex yelled.
The man turned back, and Alex confirmed that it was Jimmy Cortez, the big floor manager for Barton Electric. Alex had wondered how the thieves knew enough about the traction motor to steal it.
Jimmy snarled, but his eyes went suddenly wide and he darted away through the hole. An instant later a bolt of blue energy raked the wall where he’d been.
“Traitor!” Barton yelled in a voice that echoed unnaturally off the walls.
“After them,” Callahan yelled, charging toward the hole at the back.
Danny took off running, with Alex right behind him. They reached the hole right before Callahan and a dozen cops, pushing through into the crude tunnel beyond. It had been dug out tall enough for a man to stand comfortably and wide enough for two men to pass each other. The walls and ceiling were supported by beams made of two-by-fours that had been lashed together and placed every four or five feet.
The tunnel ran straight for about twenty yards, then opened out, into a dark space that had to be the abandoned subway.
“Which way did he go?” Danny shouted, as they neared the end of the tunnel.
“Left,” Alex answered. “Watch yourself.”
Danny skidded to a stop and ducked around the corner for a quick look around.
“It’s clear,” he shouted, running out into the tunnel.
Alex followed.
The tunnel was lit with magelights that had been hung along one curving wall. Barton’s traction motor, mounted on a wheeled cart and sporting the massive boring bit, sat just outside the tunnel. Farther away to the left, Alex could see half a dozen men taking cover behind piles of dirt that they’d obviously removed when they made the tunnel.
As Alex looked for cover of his own, a man in a pair of dirty overalls stepped out from behind a stack of empty crates. Alex recognized the round magazine and forward grip of a tommy gun as the man leveled it at Danny.