Gideon checked the paper basket and said, Excellent! Before his eyes, the basket filled and then overflowed with a billowing flutter as the paper kept coming, covered with facts and figures of such outstanding volume that it surprised even the man whod demanded them, knowing the answer would not be brief. And knowing it would not be good.
Apart from the printers clatter, he heard only silence.
The intruders had given up on the door, but it wouldnt take them long to come around the side and realize there was another way into the office.
Crash.
Not long at all.
The breaking glass of his office window was followed by the scrape of an arm, cleaning out the frame and pushing the shards to the floor. After this came the crush of feet on the scattered fragments, and the grinding sound of heels turning the glass to dust.
Gideon picked up an armful of
paper and scanned it. His eyes widened.
A man called out, This way! I see him!
Without lifting his attention from the printout, Gideon kicked the office door shut, then twisted the lock. It wouldnt hold forevernot nearly as long as the main entrance. But he needed more time. The printing apparatus wasnt finished. It spewed its contents without pause, flinging more and more and more still into the basket, faster than Gideon could empty it.
The heavy thump of a big mans body shoved hard against the side door. Then three shotssomething high-caliber, something that could punch holes in a body or blow away a lock. The fastener held through the fourth round. Gideon was not dealing with the worlds greatest sharpshooter.
A booted foot kicked the door open with a bang.
The printing apparatus wasnt finished yet, but Gideon told himself that this much would sufficeit was enough to give him his answer, and, if he was very lucky, it might even be enough to make his case.
The stacks of numbers were so fresh they smeared ink across his palms as he hurriedly seized them and bundled them together. In the office doorway, a man with a red bandana over his face and a gun in his hand shouted, Get away from that machine!
Irritated at the interruption, Gideon tore off the printed paper and gave its dangling, still-growing edge a rueful look before hefting the bulk of the printout. He crushed it in his arms, holding it between himself and the gunman.
In the brief pause that followed, he let Lincolns plaque slip quietly from his grasp, hidden by the crinkled, fluffy mass of wadded paper.
It fell.
And at the moment the plaque landed atop the printers console, Gideon flung himself behind a table and used his hip to knock it over. He dropped down for cover as the gunman opened fire. Two shots plunked into the heavy oak, which banged against the scientists elbows as he twisted, rolled, and folded the paper into a more manageable mass. Meanwhile, someone fired another shot, maybe more. It was hard to tell them apart over the rattling industrial clank of the printers keystrokes.
A second set of footsteps joined the gunman, and two more bullets went wild. Maybe both of them were terrible shots. Something to keep in mind, but it didnt mean he could disregard them. They only needed one lucky shot between them.
Back there! The first man pointed. The upended table rocked again as another volley dug a row of deep, splintering holes.
Behind the incessant clatter of the still-pounding printer keys, he thought he could hear the intruders reloading. Even if it was his imagination, it was only a matter of time before they fired again. He needed a way out.
Several plans presented themselves from his vantage point. He sorted and prioritized them according to likely cost versus success rates.
The men stood between him and the stairwell door, but that was fine. He didnt want to lead them down there anyway.
No. Behind him. The trapdoor to a storage cellar. Thatd be a better option. It had once been part of the basement, before the basement had been finished out for Gideons work. The old hospital was a rabbit warren of such places, and he knew them all, having studied the blueprints before establishing his professional headquarters.
Of course, the cellars exterior door may or may not have been barred from outside, closed up fast against storms or burglars. There was always the chance that choosing this escape route would render him a fish in a barrel, but he ran the odds in his head and was reassured. Despite the risk, this was his best chance, both for preserving his equipment and for escaping the facility unseen.
Gideon jammed the unwieldy bundle of paper under his arm and glanced about for something to tie it with. Nothing obvious presented itself, so he dropped that idea. Hed have to carry it unsecured. A little noisy, and a little inconvenient, but not impossible.
Is this the Fiddlehead? one of the men shouted to the other over the cacophony of pounding keys.
I dont know! What does it look like? came the uncertain reply, meaning they hadnt yet seen the strategically relocated plaque.
Behind a counter over to his right, Gideon spied a jar of aluminum powder. His eyes narrowed, swiftly scanning the room until he remembered that the potassium chlorate was in the cabinet behind it.