Chapter 10: Rundown
July 16, 9:00 P.M.
"All units south of Montgomery Avenue: Converge on the Hotel Regal immediately. Do not let anyone get past you, in or out. Units on lockdown: Have everyone in the hotel return to their rooms immediately. Officers are inbound. Repeat: Units south of Montgomery converge on Hotel Regal. Guards: Get guests to their rooms."
Dennison set the radio down as his assistant drove the cruiser through the cleared road. They sped through the streets as cars pulled to the side of the road to let the convoy pass. Dennison's car and four others quickly closed in on the Hotel Regal. He made sure his pistol was loaded as he began to speak with his assistant.
"How did you manage to find him so quickly?"
His assistant answered as he swerved around a rogue pedestrian, who jumped back between the stopped cars. "I told the tech guys to terminate the universal search. I told them to restrict the list to the names on the guest list of the Hotel Regal on the day of the shooting. I can't believe you didn't think of it yourself, sir."
Dennison glowered in his seat. "What prompted you to do that?"
"I thought to myself, 'How would the lieutenant do this?' It was the first thing in my mind."
The lieutenant snorted. "Obviously it isn't how I would have done things." He looked at his assistant, who couldn't take his eyes off of the road. "It was better."
His assistant swallowed. "Thank you, sir."
The top spire of the Hotel Regal came into view as the cruiser rounded a corner. Dennison picked up the radio. "There it is! Lock and load, officers!"
Sirens and lights reflected off of the buildings flanking the road, turning the chorus of sirens into a screaming cacophony as the police cars were joined by others from around the city. Soon the convoy numbered twelve cars from six different precincts. The line of black and white cars cut through the normally crowded streets like a spear.
A voice came over the radio. "This is Lieutenant Greene in charge of the lockdown. We're having some trouble getting guests back into their rooms. They're citing the People's Concord of Rights. Advise. Over."
Dennison grabbed the mouthpiece and pushed the talk button. "This is Lieutenant Dennison. Tell them that the area is still considered a crime scene and they must comply with police orders or face prosecution. If that don't work, just force them into a corner somehow. Just don't let anyone get away. There'll be hell to pay if you do. Over."
Greene's voice came over the speaker after a short pause. "Roger that. Most guests are complying. Those who aren't are being rounded up by the central fountain. No serious resistance from anyone. Area is clear. Over and out."
Dennison replaced the radio mouthpiece and watched the top of the hotel get closer and closer. It would be ten minutes before he arrived.
9:02 P.M.
Oh no.
The amount of lights and sirens in the distance could only mean one thing. They were coming for real this time; no chances were being taken after their first arrest was such an embarrassment. They'd be here in, by his estimate, a little less than ten minutes. He had less than ten minutes to escape. It would be difficult; he'd have to sneak past patrolling guards and then get past the outer ring of the lockdown. But he'd gotten past more comprehensive security systems before. This was just another mission.
He went to the bathroom and grabbed the complementary hairspray can and hid it in his light jacket as he exited his room. Walking calmly to the elevator, he pulled out a keyring and picked one unusual-looking key. When the doors closed, he put the key into the slot labeled Maintenance and hit it with the bottom of the can of hairspray. There was a tinkling of metal as the tumblers broke. He turned the key and the elevator began its descent into the Maintenance basement.
When he arrived, his first job was to shut off the main breaker for the hotel's power supply. He picked one especially thick conduit on the ceiling and followed it all the way to the breaker box. When Harris tried the handle, it was locked. He looked around for a blunt object. The first thing he found was a hammer lying next to a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He smashed the flimsy handle and opened the breaker box. Before he shut off the power, he grabbed the lighter.
Harris could hear police sirens getting nearer. He ignited the lighter and shut the main breaker. All of the lights in the basement went out, replaced seconds later with dim emergency floodlights. Good. That should create a bit of a panic upstairs.
Lighter in hand, he walked through the aisles of cleaning and maintenance boxes. The service entrance wouldn't be heavily guarded. If he could create another distraction, it would be the perfect escape route. He looked around him for anything he could use. Cleaning solvents and assorted hardware lay around him. His eyes lit on a bottle of bleach. It gave him an idea.
He grabbed the bottle of bleach and a bucket. Setting those aside, he furiously tore through the liquids in search of ammonia. After a minute of frenzied searching, he hit the jackpot: an industrial-sized bottle of ammonia. Perfect.
Harris looked around on the ceiling for a toxic gas monitor. When he found one, he set a ladder underneath it and put the bucket on top. He poured the bleach into it. Then, his shirt covering his mouth and nose, he poured the ammonia into it. He quickly backed away as he saw thin vapors rising from the cocktail.
Harris briskly walked away from the bucket and inhaled about twenty feet away. Within seconds, the chlorine gas from the reaction of the two liquids would set off the toxic gas sensor. The police would be forced to evacuate everyone to a safe place. He knew they would simply take them to the upper floors. But it would distract the guards at the service door, giving him a chance to escape.
Sure enough, a high-pitched whistle was emitted from the sensor after fifteen seconds. He crept to the service door and peeked out the window, trying to see the police guard. One officer reached for his radio and, after a few seconds, waved for another cop to come with him. That left only once guard at the rear door. Harris wanted to escape now, but knew that the best idea was to wait, lest it be a clever trap. He sat on the floor next to the service entrance and waited.
9:12 P.M.
Sora had waited hours for this chance, and now his plan was coming to fruition. The doctor had quarantined his cell, so everyone who went in was wearing an environment suit. The guard had just changed, and they weren't due for a check-in for another hour. That was all the time he had before his room would be discovered empty. After that, he'd sneak out of the facility and rejoin Riku and Kairi. It all rested on this moment.
His door opened, revealing another blue-suited mercenary holding a syringe of adrenaline. Moments after he injected it into Sora, the spiky-haired teen shook his head and looked up at the mercenary, feigning innocence.
"There's something leaking in the bathroom. Can you take a look at it for me?"
The soldier-for-hire grumbled something, obscured by his sealed suit. As he entered the bathroom, he looked for the offending leak. Not finding any, he voiced his unhappiness.
"I don't see no le-"
His sentence was cut off as Sora brought the hand guard of the Keyblade down on the back of the mercenary's head, knocking him unconscious. Sora began to strip the sealed suit off of the knocked-out man, hoping it would fit him slightly well. Within minutes, he had donned the suit, which, conveniently enough, had a flap of fabric and elastic specifically designed to keep the wearer's hair out of sight. But instead of a handy tool to keep long hair out of doctors' eyes, Sora would use it to hide his trademark spiky locks.
He shut the bathroom door, hiding the mercenary inside. As he walked to the door, a flaw in his plan presented itself. He didn't know the proper "password" to tap on the door. His mind raced to come up with an alternate plan.
The only idea he could come up with was lousy and unlikely to work, but it was better than nothing. Sora stood next to the inner door, leaning against the wall with his Keyblade drawn. He'd have to wait for a while.
9:15 P.M.
Kairi sat on her bed, watching the TV. A discussion on politics was interrupted by the words "Breaking News" and a disheveled anchor appearing on the screen. The anchor adjusted his tie as he began to speak.
"This just in: Police have sent a massive number of units to the Hotel Regal within the last twenty minutes. A police spokeswoman said that an arrest was imminent in the investigation of the assassination attempt against Sora eight days ago. The name of the suspect has not been released at this time. Again: Police have stated that they are going to make an arrest at the Hotel Regal related to the assassination attempt against Sora."
Kairi sat bolt upright at the mention of her love. Could it be? Could they find the shooter? Would Sora be released soon? She watched the news with her jaw slack in disbelief.
"Riku! Come here!"
Riku burst out of the bathroom to see Kairi pointing at the TV. He sat down on the corner of his bed and watched the screen change to an airborne view of the Hotel Regal with police cars parked three deep in a semicircle around the front entrance. Large trucks labeled CH SWAT and CHPD were scattered about, unloading squads of black-clad officers wielding assault rifles as they entered the building. The anchor's voice began conversing with the helicopter reporter.
"What can you see, Judy?"
A voice distorted by static began commenting on the scene. "Well, as you can see, the police have just swarmed this building in what appears to be the most massive law enforcement mobilization this city has ever seen. They are responding to what the police department says is the identification of the shooter."
"Can you see anyone leaving the building?"
"No, but there are reports of a chlorine gas buildup in the basement. The guests are being moved to the upper stories of the hotel until the warning is verified."
"What will happen then?"
"The police will be bound by law to evacuate everyone from the building. The suspect may be able to escape in the ensuing chaos. Hazardous Materials teams will have to rope off the hotel, making this arrest very difficult for the police."
Kairi nearly screamed with joy. "Riku! They're gonna find whoever did this! We're going to get Sora back!" She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed, causing him to choke and gag.
"Kairi… you're… crushing… my… lungs... nngh…"
She released him and ran to her window, grabbing the flashlight. She remembered that the lights were still on and sprinted the whole thirty feet to the switch and flicked it off. Turning the flashlight on, she ran to the window and began signaling for Sora. But he wouldn't respond. His light was on, but he apparently wasn't waiting for a message from his friends.
He was, in fact, waiting for something completely different.
9:18 P.M.
Harris was getting edgy. The guard hadn't moved in five minutes, which meant he was going to stay put. He'd have to be removed by force.
The ex-sniper grabbed the small can of hairspray from his pocket and banged it against the door. The policeman heard the sound and burst into the room, gun drawn. Harris sprayed the stinging liquid into the officer's eyes and twisted his wrist, causing the cop to drop his handgun and fall to the ground, writhing in pain. He kicked the officer's gun away and went out the door, shutting it behind him.
He peeked over the edge of the concrete stairwell. No police were in sight. But it was only a matter of time before the officer in the basement recovered and called in an escaped guest. He'd have to move quickly and quietly.
Harris crept up in front of an empty police cruiser and eyed the alleyway behind the hotel. It wasn't well protected, but it would be the most obvious escape route; so obvious that even the police would catch on to him before long. He opted instead to go along the side of the hotel for a little bit. The police were still distracted with his chlorine trick.
A noise from a nearby alley startled him, but it was only a stray cat rustling through some garbage. This new alley seemed a less likely route for the police to investigate, so Harris looked around once more and fled into the alley.
9:20 P.M.
Dylan Maxwell was just now sitting down to dinner. This business with Sora potentially having African sleeping sickness had kept him distracted all day. He had read the doctor's report; it could only be transmitted by bodily fluid. It seemed unlikely, but he and his girlfriend were pretty intimate. Not to mention they were celebrities. You don't get to be a celebrity without having a secret life outside the public eye.
Dinner, such as it was, consisted of chicken tenders and mashed potatoes in chicken gravy with grilled zucchini and a garden salad. He had rejected a glass of Merlot in favor of a juice blend. He bit into the tenders with zest; he hadn't eaten since breakfast.
The situation with Sora didn't seem right. True, he and his girlfriend were close. They had even shared hearts at one point in the past. But they didn't seem like the type to get into bed with each other at such a young age. That made sleeping sickness an unlikely possibility. But few other things caused his symptoms. It was maddening.
He took a large swig of his juice and was about to take a mouthful of mashed potatoes when he started coughing. Must have gone down the wrong pipe there.
That thought, however, was dashed when he couldn't stop coughing. He felt his throat closing up. Something had gone very wrong. People heard his extended hacking and burst into his office, trying to help calm him down. It was far too late. Maxwell was on the ground, clutching his throat, face turning purple.
By the time the doctor arrived, the poison in Maxwell's juice had taken its toll. He was rushed to the onsite medical suite and was pronounced dead on arrival.
9:22 P.M.
"Hey, come on out, man. We've got a situation."
Sora stood next to the door, praying that the mercenary would enter the room. Come on, just open the door. Do it.
Sora's prayers were answered when the mercenary opened the door and looked around, confused. He hit the floor a moment later as Sora stood over him, Keyblade drawn. He dragged the unconscious man into the bathroom along with the first mercenary and sealed the door. No need to have these two squealing anytime soon.
He passed through the inner door and pointed the Keyblade at the lock on the outer door. A scintillating beam of light shot from the tip of the blade into the keypad, which unlocked itself with an electronic beep. The door swung open, servo motors humming. He closed the door behind him and began his trek to the outside world.
Within seconds, a patrolling mercenary crossed his path. Hoping he would be mistaken for one of the men attending to him, Sora quickly strode past the mercenary, looking away from him. Both people continued without a second glance. Sora realized he had been holding his breath and exhaled once the mercenary was around a corner. As much as the incident had scared him, however, it gave him confidence in his disguise. The patrolling soldier had walked by him without as much as a curious glance.
There were no directional markers in the hallways, so Sora had to guess his way by memory and gut instinct. He took a wrong turn once and ended up near the armory. Quickly turning around, he headed in the opposite direction. He wondered how long it would be before his stealthy escape turned into a foot chase. He hoped it wouldn't have to.
9:25 P.M.
As much as Harris wanted to proceed quickly, he had to balance speed with silence. If he moved too quickly, someone would pick up on his escape. He was still less than a block away from the Hotel Regal, and police had begun regular patrols on the streets surrounding it. If he suddenly popped out into the open, he'd be beaten into the pavement by several angry policemen. That was something to be avoided, if at all possible.
A police car drove by the alley and shone a bright light down its' length. Harris narrowly avoided detection by hiding behind a dumpster just in time. Close calls were nothing new for him. He'd had bullets fly half an inch past his head without so much as flinching. The threat of detection by the police paled to the threat if instant death. His heart rate had barely increased during that incident.
Harris stopped to examine the situation. He knew that if he were running the patrols, he'd have about a thirty second window in between each patrol. Enough to spread manpower effectively, but not so much that it clogged the streets. That gave him almost no time to cross the street. He could wait in they alley; stay hidden until the patrols were sent farther out to search for the missing guest.
But then he remembered the policeman he had attacked in the Maintenance basement. He'd get up within a few minutes and radio for help. Policemen would come out of the woodworks if that happened. No, he'd have to proceed immediately.
He waited for the next cruiser to pass by the alley and sprinted to the sidewalk, where he adopted a casual walking pace. Twenty-five seconds. He walked to the corner and waited for the walk signal to turn. Ten seconds. The "Walk" light came on, and he followed the rest of the crowd across the street.
By that time, the next police car had pulled up to the light. By some miracle, the officers identified Harris in the crowd and jumped out of the car, handguns drawn. Harris bolted towards the sidewalk, avoiding the slow-moving crowd as much as possible. The cops got back in their car and began to pursue him.
He ran down another alley as the car tried to follow him. By the time he came out the other side, two cars were waiting for him. He turned back and ran up a fire escape as policemen followed hot on his heels. He heard the one thing he dreaded over the officers' portable radios.
"Use of deadly force authorized."
With that sentence, the cops stopped chasing him and started shooting. Luckily, they were all beneath him, and the bullets didn't penetrate the metal stairs. Harris got to the roof and vaulted the small ledge. He ran to the other side of the building and jumped. He jumped higher and farther than he ever had in his life; higher and farther than he thought was possible. Even with that, and the thin alley beneath him, he was just able to grab the roof of the adjacent building, swing his legs over the top, and continue onward.
The police officers, not wanting to attempt such a stunt, stood on the roof and fired at him as he darted between various pieces of cover. When he disappeared behind the stairwell entrance, they radioed the direction he was taking to the other cops joining in the rundown. They holstered their weapons and climbed down the fire escape back to their vehicles.
Harris hid behind the brick stairwell, panting. That jump had taken a lot out of him. He couldn't do it again. He looked around on the roof for rope, chain; anything that could be used to get him to the next rooftop. A pair of planks caught his eye. He laid them on top of each other and swung them over they alley. They were just long enough to form a precarious bridge.
He stepped onto the planks. As he walked to the middle, the two boards sagged and creaked ominously. Harris quickened his pace and reached the other side. When he did, he pulled the planks over with him. No need to keep a convenient bridge up for the police.
The next set of buildings were all connected, but at differing heights. Harris had to jump to reach the roof of some buildings and jumped down to others. When he reached the end of the block, he grabbed onto a supporting I-beam that protruded from the building and shimmied his way to street level. When he did, there were no police in sight. He ducked into another alley and hoped he wouldn't be found again.
9:31 P.M.
Something big must have happened. That was the only explanation Sora had for the amount of people running past him in the halls. None of them paid any attention to the out-of-place environment suit in the middle of the halls.
Whatever it was, Sora was grateful for it. He was certain that if people were paying attention, someone would have noticed him by now. His stealthy escape would quickly dissolve into a flat-out race; a race he would inevitably lose. All they had to do was engage the electronic lockdown of the building. Steel plates would fall over every door and window in the Doghouse. It would turn into a prison. There would be no escape after that.
He went down a likely-looking hallway only to end up at the fitness center. He was well and truly lost now. He'd just have to continue wandering until he found an exit. The layout of this building was extremely complicated. Maybe it was to prevent an easy hostile takeover. No matter the reason, it was driving Sora nuts. Every hallway ended in a different kind of dead end. He just wanted to find a stairwell.
The next hallway he took finally had a stairwell in it. He expected an easy descent to the ground floor only to discover the stairs only went between the third and fourth floors. He felt his anger rising. Whoever designed this building must have been seriously high on something.
The third floor was just as confusing and irritating as the fourth. Hallways weren't marked, nothing went in any direction for very long, and he must have been near the center of the North Wing, because he hadn't seen any windows for a while. That was just his luck. If he could see outside, he might have been able to reorient himself. Even a measly compass would have been helpful.
9:35 P.M.
When Anton had heard that Dylan Maxwell, Sora's Head of Security, had been poisoned, he immediately sent one of his few underlings to check on Sora. In this time of confusion, it would be nice to know the main objective was still in sight. If Sora was still alright, everything would end up alright, even if they lost one of their best in the process.
Even though he personally hated Maxwell, he respected him as a leader and a soldier. He was a forceful, decisive man who never let emotion cloud his judgment. Anton envied him for that quality. Many a time someone had remarked that Anton's decisions were based on feelings, not logic. It was a good quality for a philanthropist, not a mercenary. It was Anton's goal to try and use more logic in his judgment.
When the dispatched man reached Sora's room, he tapped on the inner door. No response. He tapped again, once more receiving no response. When he opened the door, Sora's bed was empty, and the two men were nowhere in sight. He opened the bathroom door to discover the mercenaries lying crumpled on the floor, one of them sans clean suit. When he saw this, he blew his top. He had seen a strange-looking guy pass by him wearing a clean suit. It must have been Sora.
Son of a bitch!
He reached for his radio to report this unfortunate turn of events, only to discover he had left it in his barracks. Great. He'd never hear the end of this. He sprinted back to the door only to find it had closed behind him. Now he'd never get out in time. He sat on Sora's bed, loathing and admiring the kid all at once.
He certainly was smart when he needed to be.
A/N: All the stuff Harris does in this chapter is actually possible and dangerous. Don't try any of it, especially mixing ammonia and bleach. It releases chlorine gas, which is TOXIC and DEADLY. Don't do it.