Unknown Location
"Station 5, report!" came a voice close by.
Robin froze. The voice was coming from just around the corner.
"You cannot do anything without supervision! Wait for me!" came the reply.
Robin knew the voice. It was Jerry one of the guards she had given a nickname to. She heard a chair scrape across the floor. She closed her eyes and willed for him to go in the opposite direction. He did. She could hear his heavy footsteps receding.
Cautiously, Robin looked around the corner. She was directly behind the large guard's station at this end of the tunnel. There was no one else at the station at the moment. The tunnel loomed in front of her. She could see Jerry jogging towards the other end.
Robin crossed past the guard station and into the tunnel itself. The opposite end of the tunnel was brightly lit for the delivery she thought. Her end was dim and it suited her escape ideally.
The tunnel she knew was three hundred feet long. The door was nearly at the midpoint. She had one hundred feet in the open to run. The tunnel had never seemed so long.
"Are you certain of your information?" asked Peter.
"Why would you ever ask ME a question like that?"
"I'm sorry."
"Better," said Donatella. "The burial was today. The family attempted to keep it private but news filters out."
"What happened? Was it an accident?"
"Full blown AIDS," said Donatella. "At least, they still have-"
"Have what?"
"No, nothing. I meant ... each other, Scorpio and Devane."
Peter was lost in thought and calculation. He had the real Robin Scorpio. What would her family pay for her safe or not so safe return? What would Cesar pay for something that Anna would be willing to sacrifice anything to have? He had a most desirable piece of leverage, he decided. "Dona, please forget about my request. I see you are on top of things as usual. Have a good night, morning, wherever you are."
He broke off the connection. He made for the door. "Come, Jack, I have an urge to see my prize again. Maybe, you can sleep with Mama tonight."
He walked down the hallway to Robin's room. He slid his pass key and waited for the locks to disengage. It was dark in the living room. He called out lazily, "Mrs. Sinclair, care for a nightcap?"
Dressed in a patient's gown, Charlotte brandished the gun. As soon as the elevator doors had opened, she had leapt off the bed and took the gun of one of her guards. One bullet to the throat silenced him. A second shot caught the other guard in the head. She then shoved the gurney straight into the hallway before her and ducked behind it. She fired at Jerry, the guard, as she pushed the gurney past him.
A shot in the abdomen felled Jerry. Charlotte stooped over him. Grimacing in pain, Jerry fought her off. She viciously smashed the butt end of her pistol across his chin. She took his gun.
She heard the siren. She ran towards the tunnel.
Keeping an eye on the other end of the tunnel and an ear open to any sound, Robin hugged the walls and tried to stay in the shadows as much as possible. She began with an easy jog that became a full run. Would she make it?
The cold night air hit her in the face. It was a welcome sign and invigorated her. She ran towards the door. Thirty yards to go!
Suddenly, all the overhead lights turned on. The rumbling of wheels echoed down the tunnel followed by the hubbub of voices all talking at once. Behind her, a siren began to wail louder and louder.
"Oh, god, help me!" Robin pumped her legs even as she braced for the impact of tranquilizer darts on her back.
The door was so close.
Bang!
It was a gunshot. And then another.
Bang!
Robin lost her footing and stumbled.
The siren whined louder and louder.
She fell and rolled.
Shouts and yells came from both ends of the tunnel.
Robin regained her footing and kept running.
"Stop! Robin, I ORDER you!" came Peter's voice. "Stop!"
Twenty yards to go. Robin flinched and stumbled to her knees. The sharp pain in her shoulder was undeniable. She was hit.
Frantically, she felt her right shoulder for the tranquilizer dart. There! She pulled it out with all her strength. Fighting vertigo and the drug's early soporific effects, she got to her feet. Unable to run full out, she laid one hand on the cold wall to steady herself.
"Robin!" a voice called out.
Startled, Robin looked up in the direction of the voice. Charlotte was running towards her. Robin swiveled her head towards the other end of the tunnel. She could see Ben, her old guard running towards her with a tranquilizer gun in one hand. He was followed by more guards. She was sure Peter was coming for her.
"I'm not going back. Never," gasped Robin. She began to hobble towards the still open door. Her vision began to blur. She was so close.
Charlotte kept running forward heedless of the icy air blowing in through the wide open door. She could see Robin unsteady on her legs but still valiantly moving towards door. On the other end of the tunnel, men and women streamed out with most running into the tunnel after Robin. Charlotte did not stop running. She fired several shots at the pursuers closest to Robin. They stopped and took cover.
The shots brought them some time but would it be enough?
The force of the wind buffeted Robin's small form. It made her skin prickle but it also kept her somewhat alert. She concentrated and shut out everything but the door and putting one foot in front of the other. All other noises receded from her awareness. She could only hear the wind. It seemed to be calling her name over and over again like a siren't song.
"I'm going home. Going home," said Robin.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Charlotte coming closer and closer. She saw her firing her gun. She could see her waving and maybe she was yelling. Maybe. But Robin didn't hear or notice. Every thought was focused on the door. Everything and everyone else was unimportant.
Robin reached the door and gripped the door frame to steady herself. Drops of water hit her face. It was drizzling outside. She turned back and saw Charlotte recoil and collapse to the floor. She saw Ben put his tranquilizer gun away and begin to run full tilt for the door.
The rain and the cold seemed to awaken her senses fully. Strength flowed to her legs. Her vision sharpened. Her nostrils flared at the familiar scent of an active city at night - smoke, gasoline mixed with the freshness of rain and winter.
A series of steps led upwards. She took to them with a vengeance. At the top of the stairs, she stared around in all directions deciding which way to go. Old fashioned street lamps lined the street. She could see no signs in English. There was light traffic on the street but the cars were not models she recognized. Buses ran along tethered to electric lines overhead. She didn't know the place. Not at all.
She pulled her scarf up and over her head to shield herself from the pelting rain. She ran across the street. Her steps picked up speed the further. She didn't bother to look back. She was free and she was going to stay that way.
She took to some smaller streets. Her shoes were quickly soaked as she scampered through snow and puddles of mud. All the exercising she had been doing for the last few years were paying off. She was hardly winded. She didn't feel the weight of her small bag or the growing wetness of her clothes weighing her down. She just ran.
A delivery truck was parked in a small alley. She couldn't read the text written on the side of the truck. She saw the driver get out, open the rear door and come out with a trolley stacked with boxes. It was a good bet that the driver would return and make another delivery. While the driver was inside the building, Robin crept up to the truck and clambered inside the cargo area.
In the dim confines of the truck, she grinned. It was stacked high with boxes and it was warm and dry. She squeezed between some stacks into the farthest corner and waited. The sound of her heart seemed to grow louder and louder with every passing second. She couldn't hear any noise from outside. But that didn't mean they weren't on her trail. She couldn't afford to underestimate her captors this time.
Ten agonizing minutes passed before the driver slammed the rear door closed and began to drive. There were no windows in the truck but Robin could tell that driver was driving away from what was apparently the driver's last stop. The truck stopped and Robin could hear the clanking of a gate sliding open. The truck continued on for a few minutes at a slow speed. She heard the driver's side door open and slam. She heard the jangle of keys and the random whistling of the driver. She heard one loud slam then silence, blessed silence.
In the dark, Robin felt her way to the rear doors. She found the handle and tried to open the door. It wasn't locked. She opened the door little by little until she was able to peer out. One grimy window let the moonlight in. She was inside a shed of some kind. There was a clean workbench on one side of the truck and on the other metal shelves full of bins and baskets. Faintly, she could hear the wind whistling outside. The rain pelted steadily on the roof.
Robin hopped off the truck and went straight for the window. She was in a yard full of trucks and sheds. She couldn't see anyone moving outside.
"I might as well stay here for a while," said Robin softly. She began to explore the shed touching as little as necessary. The bins seemed to be a hodge podge collection of odd objects. She found a pair of socks and a pair of shoes that fit comfortably. She changed shoes and socks right away. Staying warm and dry was a priority. She looked out the window again. She saw no one and heard nothing beyond the wind and the rain.
Feeling safer, she rummaged through a pile of clothing, she found a worn brown corduroy jacket that wasn't very thick but it was quilted on the inside. To her finds, she added a dark blue tee shirt with a white happy face on the front, a black knit cap, amber tinted round sunglasses, an umbrella, another pair of socks and a battered small denim backpack. A penlight went straight into her pocket.
Her eyes fell on the a dirty but operable phone on the workbench. She picked up the handset and heard the expected tone of an active line. She smiled wide and happily. She hadn't heard a real phone in years. The sound brought to her the true realization that she was out from her cage. She had no idea where she was but she was out.
"I want to call but that's how they found me before. Traced me," said Robin. She replaced the handset on its cradle. She ran a finger experimentally across the keys. The letters and numbers were faded. It was an old phone.
Her stomach grumbled. "Okay, okay, time to refuel."
Robin aimed her flashlight around the front of the shed then the workbench. There were two plastic bottles of a brownish liquid with a label that said Baikal. She couldn't decipher much on it other than the English word "Drink."
"Pop?" She opened one bottle and sniffed cautiously. She sipped. She grimaced slightly. "Pepsi and Dr. Pepper. Oh, well, better than nothing."
She dug inside her pack and took out a rice cake. The Baikal and a cake made for a strange meal but she couldn't remember enjoying a meal more. She sat on a stool by the bench, ate quietly while looking out the window.
It was her first night of freedom.