Zero Game - Brad Meltzer [62]
Son of a bitch.
Viv takes off to the left, and I’m again right behind her. Janos storms down the stairs. We’ve got nothing more than a thirty-step head start. Viv makes a sharp left so we’re not in his direct line of sight, then a quick right. Down here, the basement’s got low ceilings and narrow halls. We’re like rats in a maze, twisting and turning as the cat licks his chops behind us.
Dead ahead, the long hallway widens. At the end, a bright shot of sunlight glows through the glass in the double doors. There’s our way out. The west exit—the door the President uses as he steps out for his inauguration. From here, it’s a straight shot.
Viv looks back for a half second. “You know what’s . . .”
I nod. She understands.
Pouring on the speed, Viv clenches her fists and heads for the light. A few drops of blood drip to the floor.
Behind us, Janos is galloping like a racehorse, slowly closing the gap. I can hear him breathing—the closer he gets, the louder it grows. We all dig in hard, and the pounding of our shoes echoes through the hallway. I’m neck and neck with Viv, who’s slowly losing steam. She’s now a half step behind. C’mon, Viv . . . Only a few feet to go. I study her face. Wide eyes. Mouth open. I’ve seen that look on people at mile twenty-five in the marathon. She’s not gonna make it. Sensing her pain, Janos shifts a bit to the left. Right behind Viv. He’s so close, I can almost smell him. “Viv . . . !” I shout.
Janos reaches out, raising his hand for the final grab. He lunges forward. The door’s straight ahead. But just as he swipes down, I grip Viv’s shoulder and make a sharp right, whipping us both around the corner, away from the door.
Janos skids across the polished floor, struggling to follow us through the turn. It’s too late. By the time he’s back in pursuit, Viv and I shove our way through a set of black vinyl double doors that look like they lead to a restaurant kitchen.
But as the doors swing shut, we find fourteen armed policemen milling around the hallway. The office on our right is the internal headquarters of the Capitol Police.
Viv’s already got her mouth open. “There’s a guy back there who’s trying to—”
I shoot her a look, shaking my head. If she blows the whistle on Janos, he’ll blow the whistle on me—and right now, I can’t afford to be taken in. From the confused look on her face, Viv doesn’t understand, but it’s still enough to let me take the lead.
“There’s a guy back there who’s muttering to himself,” I say to the three nearest officers. “He started following us for no reason, saying we were the enemy.”
“I think he snuck off his tour,” Viv adds, knowing just how to rile these guys. Pointing to the ID badge around her neck, she says, “He doesn’t have an ID.”
Janos shoves open the black vinyl doors. Three Capitol policemen move in.
“Can I help you with something?” one of them asks. He’s unimpressed with the FBI windbreaker, which he knows can be bought in the gift shop.
Before Janos can even make up a lame excuse, Viv and I continue further up the hallway that’s spread out in front of us.
“Stop them!” Janos shouts, taking off after us.
The first officer grabs him by the windbreaker, pulling him back.
“What’re you doing?” Janos roars.
“My job,” the officer says. “Now let’s see some ID.”
Twisting and turning back through the maze of the basement, we eventually push our way outside on the east front of the Capitol. The sun’s already passed to the other side of the building, but darkness is still an hour or so away. Hurtling past the groups of tourists taking pictures in front of the dome, we race toward First Street, hoping the Capitol Police give us enough of a head start. The white marble pillars of the Supreme Court are directly across the street, but I’m too busy looking for a cab.
“Taxi!” Viv and I shout simultaneously as one slows down.
We both slide inside, locking our respective doors. Back by the Capitol, Janos is nowhere in sight. For now.