MINDSCREW by Lars Emmerich

Author:Lars Emmerich [Emmerich, Lars]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lars Emmerich

28

Sabot peered cautiously around the doorjamb and into the hallway, holding his breath and listening carefully for any signs of his captors. Finding none, he stepped quietly out of Fredericks’ cell, the fat, balding man following closely behind. Sabot ducked into the next room, the place he’d awakened earlier with a splitting pain and all sorts of crazy images in his head.

Zelaya still lay comatose on the floor, tranq darts protruding from his chest, a bluish pallor to his pockmarked face. Sabot stepped over his limp form and examined the medicine cart’s contents.

It contained bandages, scissors, surgical tape, stitching, and hook-shaped needles in the top drawer. The next drawer contained pharmaceuticals. “Diazapem,” Sabot read. “Paramescaline-B. Any idea what these are?”

“Hell if I know. Do I look like a doctor?”

“Maybe we can sell them,” Sabot said. He pocketed a few of the vials, and grabbed a handful of hypodermic needles, but thought better of placing them in his pocket. Instead, he grabbed a pillow from the bed, liberated the pillowcase, and stashed the drugs and needles inside, taking care to tie shut the opening.

“I thought you said you left him alive,” Fredericks said, kneeling over Zelaya’s body with his fingers pressed against the comatose man’s neck.

Sabot turned white, and felt a surge of fear and dread. I killed him? He’d never killed anyone in his life.

“Just kidding,” Fredericks said, amused at Sabot’s reaction. “He’s alive. But aren’t you quite the tough guy!” Fredericks barked a loud, insulting laugh.

“What, you’re some kind of ninja assassin yourself?” Sabot shot back.

Sabot caught a momentary smirk on Fredericks’ face. It made him wonder. “What exactly did you say you did, again?”

“Private security,” Fredericks replied.

Sabot snorted. “You’re a night watchman?” He looked over at Fredericks, who was patting down Zelaya’s body.

Fredericks found something near Zelaya’s ankle, and raised the comatose man’s pant leg to reveal a holster and small pistol. “Hardly,” he replied, unstrapping the holster from Zelaya’s leg and fastening it to his own. “Personal security.” He removed the gun from the holster, checked the clip, chambered a round, and set the safety. “Corporate CEOs, visiting dignitaries. That sort of thing.”

Sabot didn’t quite believe him. If this guy ever had to haul ass, it would take two trips. He imagined Fredericks waddling after some bad guy. Stop, or I’ll eat another donut. He smiled for the first time in what seemed like forever.

He looked up and saw Fredericks watching him. “Let’s get out of here,” Sabot said, his smile fading. “Time’s wasting.”

They returned to the hallway and made their way to the doorway at the end. It didn’t have a room number on the door, but neither did it have a doorknob. Sabot searched Zelaya’s key ring for an unmarked key. There were half a dozen of them, and he tried them sequentially in the lock, this time remembering to try them both directions before moving on to the next key.

Each attempt rattled the door and the lock. Sabot’s heart pounded, and his hands began to shake.

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