Captive

Chapter 39

Matthews and the redhead bounded up the stairs two at a time before reaching the appropriate landing. The guard cautiously opened the door to the hallway and peeked inside. When it was clear, he and the replica entered the corridor and began their search for Bridget Dunn. This part of the building was quiet; the employees had cleared out to help in other parts of the facility. It was the only action they would see since they were confined to desk chairs and surveillance feeds. Matthews remembered the layout in the Tower—and its many nooks and crannies—so he gingerly moved from room to room seeking Truitt and his prisoner. The replica followed him and tried to determine how she could be of assistance.

"Hey," Matthews whispered when he stopped dead in his tracks. His comrade turned to him as he pointed to the room to his left. "There's some noise coming from in there." The guard slid along the wall until he reached the entrance and stuck his head out to see into the space. When he moved back, he said, "That's them. He's got Bridget tied to a chair."

"What do we do?" she asked.

Matthews shook his head. "I need a minute."

"I don't think we've got a minute. If your clone did his job, this place is going up any second now."

***

Backpacks bounced with every step Vincent's clone took. He darted through the psychological facility, stopping only when forced to do so by any remaining staff in the facility. He shot at them before he continued on his way. His task was imperative to the mission; he kept that idea in the front of his mind. The cloned believed the sole purpose for his creation and his life was to destroy the building. He finally reached the designated staircase and skipped down it as fast as his legs could move. The maintenance level was at the very bottom of the facility, six flights down. The building ran on geo-thermal technology, and the generators in this part of the building were only used to provide electricity. Still, he carried enough plastic explosives in his bag to bring down the Sears Tower. The only thing of which he was not completely sure was what the generators looked like. He had never seen one, and it appeared that whoever implanted the building's information into his head failed to give him a description of the machines. He frowned as he reached the bottom of the stairs to see a room filled with immense pieces of humming steel and iron. Completing his task looked as if it may take a little longer than previously anticipated.

***

Matthews and his partner knelt outside the room where Bridget Dunn was held. He tried to think but could not determine a safe plan of action. The replica finally grunted, jumped up, and calmly walked into the room. Matthews rolled his eyes but remained behind. Surely, the woman had some reason for her decision. He wanted to know her intentions before deciding whether or not to join her. In some respects, his lack of response made him feel like a coward.

"Well, well, look at what just strolled in," Matthews heard from the hallway. "Ain't you just a pretty little thing? Why, you look just like this one over here, but then again, I already knew that. Didn't think you'd survive your first night here." It was Truitt.

The replica spoke, "I'm here for her."

"Guess you're gonna be disappointed," the man replied. "You seen Matthews anywhere? Figured he might've got beat by Spencer."

"I don't know where he is," the woman replied. "How about you untie her?"

"Can't do that, sweet-cheeks. I got special orders to watch her until Spencer comes back."

"Spencer's dead. I shot him." Matthews heard footsteps coming toward the door. He stood, ready to pounce if he caught a glimpse of Truitt's grimy head peeked through the entry.

"Ya know what I think?" Truitt asked.

"I don't care what you think."

"Oooh, you gotta mouth on you, don't ya?" The footsteps came again, but this time, they were followed by the sound of a palm colliding with a cheekbone. Matthews heard the clone drop to her knees, which the guard took as his chance to strike. He burst through the door and tackled Truitt, the short man's gun releasing from his grasp and skimming across the floor. The two men hit the tile with ample force. The clone stood and ran to assist her original form; she removed the gag but was unable to locate the key for the handcuff still cinched around Bridget's small wrists. Matthews overpowered his opponent with little effort. Too many six packs and nights sitting in a recliner had made Truitt soft and squishy. The younger man hurled his fist into the other guard's face, rendering Truitt unconscious after a bit of blood slid down his chin. Matthews stood and wiped his face before going to the women.

"You okay?" He asked, but it was unclear to whom the question was directed.

"Yes," they both replied. Matthews pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the handcuffs.

"We need to get out of here." Matthews grabbed both women and led them toward the door.

The clone shirked his hold and said, "I'm staying here." Vincent and Bridget looked at her, puzzled. She continued, "In case he wakes."

"Are you sure?" Bridget asked. Matthews walked to the replica and looked her in the eye.

"Yes." She glanced up to the officer. "I told you. Take her and go. This is my fate."

He hugged her and whispered, "Thank you." When they broke the embrace, Matthews grabbed Bridget, and they left the room. The replica took a deep breath and drifted about the room. She eventually picked up Truitt's pistol and decided to await the end seated in a chair.

***

The bottom level of the psychological facility was a vast room of pipes, machines, and circuit breakers. Vincent's clone ran the perimeter of the space before deciding to climb some scaffolding in hopes of catching a glimpse of something that looked like a generator. He surveyed the room from above, but nothing stuck out. He shook his head before climbing down. The man removed one of the backpacks and looked at its contents. He knew that he had enough explosives and that finding a generator might not actually matter, but the position and location of the charges was still of the utmost importance. The replica zipped the backpack and tossed it over his shoulder before making his way to the center of the room. It was a fairly open area except for a medium sized geo-thermal unit blowing warm air into the room. Here, he removed one of the bags and dropped it to his feet. He unpacked its contents and arranged the plastic explosives around the heating unit. The remaining bag, still on his shoulder, would be used to set charges in the four corners of the room.

The clone moved quickly to distribute and lay the plastic explosives. When he finished, he made his way back to the center and looked at his watch. He only had seconds to spare, but since he knew Spencer was dead, he began to recalculate his timetable. He told Regan and Freddie to leave without his original and Bridget. The clone's conscience whispered to wait. He looked at his watch and decided another thirty seconds would not hurt. The replica did not truly know if Bridget and his original form had escaped, but blowing up the place with them inside was a risk he had no choice but to take.

***

The Gilliman's delivery truck sat idling on the edge of the city. Regan forced Freddie to pull over in order to call her brother to make sure he was out of the building. He did not answer. Freddie pleaded with her to get the others to safety, but she would not listen. She called and called, hoping that he would pick up, but she received no response. The people in the back grew nervous even though Freddie tried to explain that they were safe. Regan peered through the passenger mirror and gaped at the reflection of the building in the distance. It would soon fall, and she had no idea if her brother was still inside.

A rumble echoed across the city, and the vehicle trembled slightly as Regan watched the Algern Pharmaceuticals Psychological Research Facility topple to the ground. Cement turned into dust that formed a billowing cloud above the metropolitan area. The young woman, still clutching her gunshot wound, bellowed in horror. Her brother was gone, trapped under rubble and burned in flames. She screamed and wept as Freddie chose to merge into traffic and take off toward Regan's childhood home.