“Sir!” Kay stopped the man who was being ushered past them. “Did you see anyone else in there?”
The man shook his head and was led away.
“Maybe Gomez has noticed that people are going out but no one’s coming in,” said Kay.
The other two didn’t respond.
“He’s getting away!”
The shout came from behind them and all three turned around. They saw Bob Oz trying to get past the two uniformed police officers who were holding him back.
“Get that guy out of here!” O’Rourke yelled.
“Wait,” said Kay.
“The ventilation shaft,” Bob shouted. “It’s open!”
O’Rourke looked at Bob. He looked at Kay. He adjusted his helmet. “We’re going in now.”
The leader signaled to one of the SWAT team, who opened the door slightly and rolled in a stun grenade. Kay could hear thesound of the grenade bouncing across the tiled floor. The door was closed. She put her hands over her ears, heard two dull thuds and then the SWAT team swarmed in. O’Rourke went in right behind them, and a few seconds later he was back in the open doorway. His face told them all they needed to know, but he said it anyway.
“Our bird has flown.”
—
Bob followed Olav Hanson and Kay Myers into the restroom. He saw at once that next to where the fan was hanging down was a hinged door in the ceiling, above one of the cubicles. It looked like it was possible to squeeze in through the space. Bob went over to O’Rourke, who was standing outside the open cubicle. The bubble wrap lay spread out on the floor in front of the toilet. Already one of the SWAT people was standing on the toilet lid and feeding the wire with the micro camera through the opening above.
“No one here,” he said to O’Rourke. “Just this.”
He plucked something from the shaft and handed it down to his leader.
“What is this?” asked O’Rourke.
“It’s an insulin needle,” Bob said behind him. “Gomez has diabetes. He’s trying to crawl out through there. Isn’t anyone going to go in after him?”
“How about you, Oz?” O’Rourke handed him the needle. “Or would you prefer to send Myers?”
Bob locked eyes with the SWAT boss.
“No?” said O’Rourke. He pulled off his helmet, unfastened the bulletproof vest, handed his rifle and his pistol to one of his men. “Good thing Bonzo’s up for it, then.”
“Hanson,” said Kay, “find out where these ventilation shafts exit and get some of your men over there.”
“Okay.”
Bob watched as two of O’Rourke’s men helped him up until hegrabbed hold of something inside the ventilation shaft and managed to pull himself up into it. Once he was up they handed him his helmet with the headcam and flashlight and his pistol.
“Radio silence?” one of the men asked.
“If he’s there then he’ll hear me coming a mile off,” said O’Rourke. “Just listen in and I’ll try to give you guys a good show.”
They heard a rumbling in the shaft and then O’Rourke was gone. One of his men held a phone as the others gathered around. Bob went over and looked at the screen. The mere sight of it gave him claustrophobia. In the cone of light cast in front of O’Rourke’s camera all that was visible were his hands and the cylindrical walls of the shaft, and now and then the jerking of the light flashed on the pistol he was holding in one hand. The panting and grunting grew heavier, drowning out any sounds that might be made by someone waiting for him. Every so often O’Rourke stopped and then everyone listened closely. But all they heard was a regular whirring noise.
“There’s a fan up ahead,” O’Rourke whispered.
Soon those gathered around the phone saw the same thing, a large fan at the end of the shaft where it split left and right at a T intersection.
“He must have gotten out this way,” said O’Rourke. “The shafts going the other way get narrower.”
