Cat flipped a grenade down the gap.
It exploded. There was no more firing.
Now the two of them opened the door the rest of the way. It went rather easily.
Steep stairs led down into a small concrete room with an elevator door on one side and the top of a spiral staircase on the other. There were pieces of body armor scattered on the floor, some still containing fragments of flesh and bone. The pieces didn’t come out even, so some of them must have blown off the edge and down the spiral stairway.
They went back up into the cabin and put on their packs. Cat quickly finished his coffee. “Shouldn’t drink this,” he said. “I’ll just have to pee later.”
“You didn’t put on your catheter?” said Cole with mock surprise.
“Can’t find any that fit me,” said Cat.
Cole turned to the miserable-looking rebel. “We probably won’t come out this way, so . . . I’ll see you at your treason trial.”
No smart remarks. The guy just looked away.
Down on the elevator landing, Cat pushed the button for the elevator.
“Oh, come on,” said Cole.
“Ain’t gonna ride it, man,” said Cat. “Just want to see if it comes when I call.”
They waited, weapons trained on the door. It opened. The elevator was empty.
“We could put that guy inside and send it down,” said Cat. “Then it’s friendly fire that’ll kill him.”
“Being an ignorant jerk who believed a lot of lies shouldn’t get you the death penalty,” said Cole.
“Not even sometimes?” Cat was holding the elevator door open.
Cole leaned close to him and whispered. “Push the button for the bottom floor and let’s go down the stairs.”
Cat pushed the button and scrambled back out of the elevator before the doors closed.
Then, as quietly as they could, they started down the stairs.
TWENTY-ONE
COMMAND AND CONTROL
Anybody who thinks that the dread of shame isn’t stronger than the fear of death has only to consider how many Roman senators, generals, and traitors preferred to fall on their swords or open their veins rather than live through humiliation. But it’s not just humans. Wounded animals try to hide till they’re dead, rather than let their predators eat them alive.
They were about halfway to the bottom when the rebel in the cabin shouted, “They’re coming down the stairs!”
Should have killed him, thought Cole.
No. We should have closed the trap door from the inside.
Fortunately, there was a good chance nobody at the bottom could understand what he was yelling.
They heard gunfire below them.
The elevator door must have opened. But the sound was muffled. They must have built a heavy
door between the stairway and the elevator landing at the bottom.
But now that they knew Cole and Cat hadn’t come down the elevator, they were bound to think of the stairway. If it was a grenade they tossed, Cole and Cat should stay high on the stairs. But if they opened the door and fired, they should be down there to shoot back.