He now dumped the Global jacket too and shopping bag.
Then outside into the lobby. He got a look at the TV in the bar, reporting on the event at the theme park. No pictures of him, no artist's rendering, no reference to Solitude Creek.
In the gift shop he bought a windbreaker, sunglasses and a tote--into which went his gym bag.
He took a cab to a downtown Hertz office to rent a car. There he told the clerk he'd be dropping off the rental in San Diego in three days--the police could be looking for rentals to the Monterey area. He'd call later and extend the rental and ultimately switch the return destination to somewhere in Central California. A flight might be safer but he had only the one pistol; he couldn't afford to leave it here--there was no way of getting a new weapon in California.
And he knew he'd need it before the week was out.
With his mind racing--beautiful and brilliant Kathryn Dance figured prominently--March took surface streets and local roads on a mazelike route for miles, meandering north, until he figured it was safe to hop on the Ventura Freeway, the 101.
North. He'd be back on the Peninsula in five hours.
Chapter 47
Simple.
But effective.
Dance and O'Neil were at the front entrance to Global Adventure World, near the shattered gate. The unsub's stolen Chevy sat nearby; under it, oil and coolant pooled. The panic had stopped and several thousand people meandered about in the front area of the park, apparently not sure what to do next.
Three dozen had been injured, none critically. Opening the two gates--the main and the disabled entrances--had largely relieved the pressure of the masses.
Dance had nearly been trampled herself, by the surge of patrons leaping through the gift shop window, but the security chief, Herb Southern, had saved her, the woman who'd fallen and her daughter. He'd driven a golf cart directly between them and the mass and they'd parted around it.
"Go on," Dance now said to Southern and Sergeant Ralston. They continued explaining to the Monterey law enforcers what had happened.
Simple, effective.
No, the unsub hadn't escaped through the security tunnels lacing the theme park. He hadn't even given the fake terrorist announcement. Apparently he'd noticed entrances to the tunnels, as well as an extensive P.A. system, speakers hidden in trees and landscaping. He'd pulled on a ski mask and waylaid one of the security guards--easily spotted because he was carrying one of the fake ID flyers.
The security guard--his name was B
ob--was present here too. He continued, "Then he asked about the tunnels. I didn't want to tell him but he had the gun. He was right beside me. It was...pretty bad."
Dance said, "I'm sure it was. Of course."
Bob, miserable, continued in a resigned voice, "He took my wallet and called somebody. Gave my address. Told his friend to go there and keep an eye on my family. I had to do exactly what he told me." Dance supposed he regretted not trying some karate move and disabling the guy.
Ralston added to Dance and O'Neil, "We've got somebody on the house already."
O'Neil said, "There's no evidence anybody's working with him. I think that was a sham."
"I didn't want to help him," the shaken employee said. "It happened so fast. He was just there."
"It's all right, Bob," Southern said. "There was a panic and some injuries 'cause of it but nobody badly hurt. You did what you had to. I would've done the same thing."
"I was supposed to go down in the tunnel and give it five minutes then he'd fire the gun. He promised me he wasn't going to shoot anybody. He was just doing it to escape. If I thought he was going to shoot anybody, really was, I wouldn't've done it. I--"
"It's okay, Bob."
The man swallowed. "And I did what he wanted. I grabbed the microphone and said what I was supposed to."
Dance shook her head, looking over the milling crowd, now easily three thousand people. As at Solitude Creek, in the snap of a finger they'd calmed, once they were out of the park and police on loudspeakers had reassured them there were no terrorists.
Their unsub had walked right out in the midst of escaping attendees. He didn't even need a disguise. He could've had a black hood on and been carrying a machine gun and nobody would've spotted him.
O'Neil took a call. "That's right... Yes... They're set up?" He thanked the caller and disconnected. He looked at the others. "CHP. All the roadblocks're up. They worked fast. Not every exit route, but the main ones. And random stops, traffic headed away from the park."