Dear Delilah West

Chapter Twelve

So here we are. The New York Authority headquarters, found with directions given to us by Regina.

After getting off the plane and stretching our rather cramped legs, Missy and I took a taxi directly to a hotel. We booked in, dumped our stuff, and headed straight for this place. There was no reason to wait, really – and with Delilah’s message to ‘hurry’, I didn’t want to.

Quite the opposite of the building in Vegas, these headquarters are about as inconspicuous as you can get. Missy and I stand in front of a single story, seemingly ordinary suburban house. To a passerby, nothing would seem out of place. But what that passerby wouldn’t know is that this house actually has twelve floors built beneath it, which are teeming with dangerous people who enjoy kidnapping teenage girls to get revenge on their boss’s ex-wife.

“Sam?”

I look at Missy.

“You okay?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I murmur. “Just got caught up in thoughts. You ready?”

She shrugs. “Ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s go.”

We creep up the driveway, warily approaching the still, dark, silent house. There is no sign of movement as we walk along, backs bent, and we reach the small brick building with no troubles. After that, we locate the kitchen window and quietly let ourselves inside.

The kitchen is dark and deserted. I am surprised to see that they have set the room up quite well; a table and chairs, a microwave – even a kettle. I am tempted to check and see if there is food in the cupboards, but I am scared that the doors will creak. So I ignore my curiosity and follow Missy through to the laundry.

The laundry is not as well stocked as the kitchen. There is nothing but a sink and, looking very out of place, an elevator. Next to the elevator is a flight of stairs, leading downwards. They may be slower, but are much safer than the elevator – and we must take every precaution. The cost of not doing so could very well be our lives.

We sneak down the stairs, stopping at every step to listen for sounds, check for pursuers. It turns out that our caution was wasted – we reach the bottom of the stairs with no difficulties. This floor seems deserted, so we descend to the next one.

This floor shows a little more life than the last. The faint murmur of voices reach our ears, and we move slower than ever. A few lights are on, which work to both our advantage and disadvantage. The advantage is that we can now see our enemies. The disadvantage is that the enemy can now see us.

Luckily for us, these headquarters are not the same as the Vegas ones. The set out in New York is very different – not straight and symmetrical. Here there are so many side rooms and passages and doorways that it is hard not to get lost. But there is a good side to this – if anybody comes along it will be very easy to hide. We’re counting on that.

Suddenly, we hear footsteps approaching our passage, and without discussion – or even exchanging looks – we both dive for a room on our left. It looks like some sort of room where people sit around and talk; there are couches and chairs scattered messily around a coffee table, which still has a coaster or two resting on top. We duck behind one of the chairs and wait for the people to pass.

Only they don’t. By some unfortunate twist of fate, the people decide to enter the very room we are hiding in. Two men – I can see their shoes. Only their shoes, nothing else.

Missy nudges me, and I turn around. To my relief, we are sitting just in front of an open door, which, from what I can see leads right back into the passage we were in before. I am just about to move when I hear a voice.

“….Violet Bay,” says the deep, rumbling voice of one of the men.

I freeze. Missy tugs on my sleeve, but I hold up a hand to stop her. Violet Bay is my – and Delilah’s – hometown, and it isn’t likely that these men could be mentioning it unless it has something to do with Delilah.

“Yes,” says the other man. “That’s what he is planning.”

What? What is who planning?

The first man sighs. “Why can’t he just kill her and be done with it?”

I feel my face grow hot. Who does this man think he is?

“Because,” says the second guy. “Ryder said something about revenge.”

“Where is he?” asks the first man.

“He went back to Vegas about two weeks ago,” I hear the second voice reply. “I don’t know why he even came here in the first place. From what I know, he has the girl in the headquarters there. Vegas. What a place to have something so important.”

Two weeks ago. That matches up with what Patrick said about Delilah being removed from her cell.

The men exchange a few meaningless comments, and then leave the room. We wait five minutes, and then escape the room through the door.

We ascend the stairs and pass through the above floors without trouble, and before long find ourselves in the laundry. I’m guessing that this place was so easy to get through because Authority is so confident that nobody will find it in the first place, so they don’t worry about security. Oh well. Works for us.

We scamper through the kitchen, and then we are outside, breathing in fresh air and feeling the coolness of the night on our flushed faces. We make our way back to the hotel and collapse onto the beds.

“So, what do you think?” I ask, after a minute of silence.

Missy sighs in exasperation. “I think that Ryder Black is leading us on a wild goose chase.”

For the first time in a while, I laugh.