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Clementine would just as soon kill me as look at me. She'd proven that already tonight. She wouldn't be threatened, scared, or intimidated in the slightest by me. And if she realized that I was still alive - that the Spider was still alive - sneaking through the museum and killing her men, she'd grab Finn or one of my other friends and hold a gun to their heads until I agreed to surrender. Once I did that, she'd put a couple of bullets in my skull, and that would be the end things for me and everyone else in the rotunda.
No, whatever was in that vault was the only bit of leverage I would be able to get here. If I swiped it first, Clementine would have no choice but to deal with me to get what she wanted, and I'd force her to trade my friends and the rest of the hostages for the treasure in the vault. Of course, Clementine would no doubt try to double-cross and murder me, but that was nothing new.
Still, to steal whatever was in the vault and rescue Owen, I needed supplies, and I needed help - and I knew exactly where I could get them both.
Chapter 12
I turned away from the monitors and went over and looked at the giant I'd killed earlier, still careful not to touch her. She seemed to have the same gear that the first guard had: leather belt, gun, ammo, baton, pepper spray. I wouldn't have minded another gun and some more ammo, but I didn't want to electrocute myself to get them.
So I pulled out the metal baton I already had and used it to smash the rest of the security camera monitors. I'd seen what I'd needed to, and I didn't want Clementine and her crew using them to try to find me when I finally made my presence known.
When that was done, I went out into the antechamber where the lockers were. It was easy enough for me to use my Ice magic to freeze and then shatter their flimsy metal locks. I sorted through the items inside, but I didn't find anything useful or interesting, except for the fact that one of the guards kept a stash of porn in the bottom of his locker. Of course he did. Why stare at priceless works of art for hours on end when you could look at fake, inflated boobies?
I also came across a small red cooler, which I opened. Someone had brought his lunch along tonight. A tuna fish sandwich, from the rancid smell of it. I wrinkled my nose. Ugh. I shut the lid and put the cooler back where I found it.
I had turned away from the lockers and started to go over to the exit when I noticed a door next to the vending machine, one I hadn't spotted before. A sign on the front read Broom Closet, but I was more interested in the blood smears on and around the handle. Senses alert and knife in hand, I carefully opened the door - and immediately stepped back as bodies tumbled out of the dark space.
Five poor souls had been killed and stood up and crammed into the closet, and they pitched forward and thumped to the floor like dominoes. Three men and two women, all giants, all with multiple bullet holes in them. Well, now I knew what had happened to the museum's real guards. They'd been shot, probably while they'd been looking at the monitors in the other room. There was nothing I could do for them, so I left them on the floor, although I did take a moment to close their eyes.
My search complete, I headed over to the exterior door. I listened a moment, but I couldn't hear any more through it than I had before, so I cracked it open and gazed out into the hallway.
The dead giant lay in the same position as before, although more blood had pooled under and around his body. Sharp, shocked whispers reverberated through the gray marble, but I shut those sounds out of my mind and listened for any other notes of warning, danger, or unease that might be rippling through the stone. But there was nothing. Now that Clementine and her crew had taken control of the museum, the stones had settled down a bit, their tension lessened - at least, until I killed someone else within the marble walls.
I considered moving the giant's body inside the antechamber but discarded the idea. He was far too heavy for me to carry. Sure, I could drag him, but it would take some effort on my part, and I needed my energy for more important things. I couldn't have cleaned up all that blood, anyway, not without Sophia and her Air elemental magic to help me. Sooner or later, one of Clementine's men was sure to stumble across the dead giant, but I just had to hope that luck, that capricious bitch, would let it be later. I doubted my chances on that, but there was nothing else I could do.
I shut the security-center door, stepped over the giant's body, and went on my merry, murderous way.
* * *
I moved through the museum halls as quickly and quietly as possible. Since the evening's festivities had been centered in the rotunda area, most of the other lights had been turned down low, casting many of the hallways in darkness. Fine by me. The lack of light gave me more shadows to skulk through.
Three times I passed rooms that Clementine's men were busy looting, the exhibit halls I'd heard her mention before on her walkie-talkie. The giants had switched the lights on in those areas, the better with which to see the art they were stealing. I repeatedly thought about storming inside and taking out the giants, but there were six men in each room, which was about four too many for me to kill with anything resembling quiet. Besides, I needed to get out of the museum before the bodies were discovered, so I tiptoed across the open doorways when the robbers' backs were turned and hurried on.
Finally, I reached a door that led outside. It was locked, but my stolen key card changed that. In the hushed quiet of the museum, the metallic snick the door made seemed to reverberate from one hallway to the next, like a locator beacon pinging and giving away my position. The giants were probably too busy rolling up paintings and hefting sculptures around to notice the noise, but I still needed to move. So, knife in hand, I slipped outside and pulled the door shut behind me, wincing once more at the unwanted sound it made.
A series of rhododendron bushes had been planted on either side of the entrance, and I wormed my way in between them and the marble wall of the museum, ignoring the tickles and faint scratches of leaves and stems along my bare arms and the soft, loose soil working its way between my toes. Crouching down, I stared out into the night.
I was on the left side of the museum, facing west toward the river. A series of lush gardens rolled across the landscape in front of me. A gray stone path zoomed from the door straight to the gardens before splitting into three separate branches that plunged even deeper into the dark foliage, like a pitchfork stabbing into the shadows. Whitewashed benches and gazebos stood here and there among the manicured beds of roses and pansies, while weeping willows towered over them all, their tendrils kissing the soft petals below. Magnolia and mimosa trees had also been planted in the gardens, right next to sunflowers that drooped under the heavy weight of their own seed-laden heads. Old-fashioned iron streetlights placed along the paths provided a soft golden glow, filtered by the wash of bugs dancing around the globes. Once again, the aroma of honeysuckle saturated the air, although now the scent seemed sickly sweet, as though it were the funeral-home stench of perfumed, floral death.
I didn't see or hear anyone, but I stayed low, hugged the marble wall, and followed the path of the rhododendrons all the way around to the front corner of the building. It was just as quiet here as it had been in the back, and only the annoying hum of the mosquitoes broke the silence. I started to ease across one of the side lawns so I could slip into the parking lot when a small beep sounded, and a door hissed open to my left. I hunkered back down into the bushes.
Two giants carrying a couple of cardboard boxes each stepped out into the night air, along with Dixon, who was speaking into his walkie-talkie. I'd turned the volume down on the one I'd swiped from the first giant I'd killed so it wouldn't crackle and give me away at the wrong time, but Dixon wasn't even trying to be quiet, so I was able to hear his words loud and clear.
"We're outside. I'm going with Leroy and Keith to load up one of the trucks, then checking on Hannah and Anton down by the bridge. "
"Good. " Clementine's voice sounded through his walkie-talkie. "Tell Hannah and Anton to make sure the job is done right. I don't want any mistakes. If the bridge goes too soon, we're screwed. "
The bridge? What were they doing at the bridge?
"Understood. " Dixon clipped the walkie-talkie back onto his belt, then gestured at the giants. "Well, you heard her. Let's get going. "
Dixon led the two giants toward the museum's main entrance. I stayed behind the bushes and followed them. Four large moving trucks were now parked in front of the building. The back of one truck was open, revealing long, skinny tubes and odd shapes covered with thick sheets of bubble wrap - all the art the giants had grabbed so far.
"All right, let's get what's in these boxes loaded up," Dixon said.
The other two giants climbed up into the back of the truck and started unloading the contents of the boxes they'd been carrying, carefully stacking up more tubes and rearranging the padded sculptures so they could have as much room as possible inside for their stolen loot.
Dixon stayed on the ground and watched the other men work. While they were distracted, he casually bent down as though he was going to tie his boot. Instead, he slipped a small cell phone out of his pants pocket and hit a button on it. A faint beep sounded. Dixon nodded to himself and slid the phone into his pocket again before smoothly getting back to his feet.
