curse when Az’s cell phone vibrated.
“You’re fucked,” Cas said.
“We’re coming to that conclusion. You’d better not charge me for that prophecy, Cassandra.”
“They’ve got cameras everywhere. I hacked into their feeds, and I’m staring at the two of you right now. Which means they are, too.”
“Goddammit.” Madigan lifted his middle finger anyway, just to test the veracity of Cas’s claim.
“Yeah, I see that you prick. Also, the perimeters are heavily guarded, as you probably already guessed.”
“How about the overhead view? Is that showing any weak spots?”
“There is no overhead view. That’s the fucked-up part. I searched everything I could find, given the time limits. I mean, there’s a picture there, but if I dig into the image’s encryption, the origin date is a decade old. It’s being passed off as the most recent. I imagine Bennington’s company is buying the rights to the images to keep details of the area hidden.”
“You can do that?”
“Madigan,” Az said quietly. Madigan held up a finger and shook his head.
“Fuck yeah, the government does it all the time. Without a doubt, there are other satellites with good images overseas, but I’d need more time to hack into them. Shit.”
Az pressed Madigan back against the wall and put his finger to his lips.
When Cas came through the line again, his voice was low, too. “They’re closing in. Bet you hear them. Don’t say anything, just do exactly what I tell you to. Jonah’s working on an alternative exit plan.” Madigan hoped Jonah’s alternative plan involved leading them to a weapons cache. Madigan felt fairly confident about his skills in gunfight, not so much trying to solve his way out of a cargo labyrinth. “There’s a red container three rows back. Nod if you see it, then head toward it. Don’t run, just walk as quietly as possible. I’m leading you away from them right now, but since they’re watching, too, they’ll catch on quick enough.”
Madigan nodded, then caught Az’s attention and inclined his chin toward their path. They moved slowly, listening to the sounds of the men behind them. Madigan was sure they were going in the wrong direction, and if Cas couldn’t see jack from above, how would he know the difference?
“Ok, now, go faster. Make a left at the next row,” Cas hissed. “Then pass seven containers and hard right between the seventh and eighth. Run until you see anything that looks like a little utility outbuilding. Probably greyish. Get inside it. I’m scrambling their system now, so I won’t be able to see you anymore. But neither will they. Go!”
Madigan pulled the phone away from his ear, and they took off running down the aisle, Madigan silently counting the containers as they passed. Shit, was he supposed to start with the one that had been in front of them when they turned? Or the first one after they turned?
When Cas started shouting through the line, Madigan grabbed Az by the elbow and jerked him to the right. Something thunked into the siding of a container. Then came a raining plink plink plink of bullets piercing metal as they ran.
“You see a metal building anywhere?” Madigan shouted over his shoulder. All he could see were more endless rows of fucking shipping containers in primary colors. Nothing grey.
Az snagged Madigan by the sleeve and tugged him around a corner just as another hail of bullets sprayed in their direction, then stepped back out and fired at whoever had been heading in their direction. “Go,” he urged Madigan, and they took off again.
Just when Madigan was sure there was no building to be found, Az caught him once again, this time by the shoulder, stilling him, and pointing between an enclave of yellow, blue, and green to where a small outbuilding the size of a guard shack stood, its corrugated metal siding nearly orange with rust.
They raced toward it and nearly tore the door from its rusty hinges getting inside. Madigan lifted the phone to his ear again as he scanned the interior—empty aside from what looked like a few old gauges and pipes, none of which seemed to be in use in any meaningful way. “Now fucking what? There’s nothing in here.”
“Look down.”
Madigan looked down. “Fuck me.”
“Aww, c’mon,” Cas crooned. “It’s probably been a while since you’ve said hello to your rat brethren. Get down there and head west. You’ll be walking a mile and a half. Keep track of the mileage on your phone and at the mark, you’ll see your exit. It’ll dump