F Wilson - Fatal Error

Bridger pointed across the road with the bar. "There."

"Why don't we just drive over there?"

"No." He pointed again. "There."

Kewan saw now that the bar wasn't pointing across the street, but at the street-at a manhole cover.

"What?"

As soon as the lone car passed, Bridger walked to the middle of the road, stuck the end of the bar through a hole in the manhole cover, and levered it free. He pushed it aside and gestured to the opening.

"In you go."

"Like hell."

Bridger dropped the bar inside, then slipped through, disappearing through the hole. A flashlight beam speared up from the opening.

"Hurry your ass down here before a car comes!"

Well, okay, Kewan thought. Long as you're in there first.

He eased down. His feet landed in about an inch of water as he found himself in a concrete pipe about four feet high.

Shit!

He crouched as Bridger popped his head and an arm back through the hole and used the bar to maneuver the cover back into place.

"What the fuck we doing here?"

Bridger flashed his beam along the collection of wires and thick cables running along the side of the pipe.

"Some of these are fiber-optic cables-OC-twenty-four and forty-eight-running to the IXP I just showed you. You've got other OC cables running into it from other directions, but almost all of them are as easy to access as these."

Kewan saw what was going on.

"You're kidding. They're this easy to get to?"

Bridger nodded, grinning. "Yep. They go to all that trouble to protect the IXP building, but the lines feeding into it are sitting ducks. We've got brother Kickers inside lots of these places, and they feed us the cable layouts, tell us which are the important ones."

"So all we've got to do is take a hammer and-"

"Hammer? My friend, we've got something a lot better than hammers at our disposal."

"Like what?"

"You'll see."

At first Dawn thought it was just another of the backaches that had totally plagued her the past two months. But they'd never bothered her in bed before. Usually the ache stopped once she got herself horizontal. But this one had awakened her. Not that she slept much anyway these days. But she'd finally managed to doze off.

She checked the bedside clock: 3:22. Another long, lonely night.

The pain eased. Maybe she'd twisted in her sleep and set off a spasm, because this had seemed like more of a clenching than an ache. She closed her eyes and tried to find sleep again. So hard these days. She tried counting backward. That sometimes There, starting in the back again, only this time reaching forward into her lower abdomen, almost like a period cramp, except it couldn't be. She was The baby? Was this a contraction? Was she going into labor?

Oh, God, she'd been totally waiting for this moment, hungering for it, because it meant the end of this eternal pregnancy. And yet she'd totally dreaded it as well, because it meant pain. How was this baby ever going to pass out of her? No way it could fit.

No. She could do it. She'd have to. Countless women through the ages had done it. So could she.

But she was so scared. All through the pregnancy she'd had no one to talk to about it. She wished her mother were here. Mom would tell her how it would go, talk her through it. But Mom was gone, murdered by that Wait. There. It eased off.

Shouldn't she time the contractions? She'd read about that in her pregnancy books. She noted the time on the clock, and waited… and waited. And then, eight minutes later, it came again.

No question about it, she was in labor.

She pressed the call button next to her headboard. A minute later, just as the contraction was subsiding, Gilda knocked and stepped into the room.

"Yes, Miss?" she said in her vague, East European accent.

She'd tucked her gray hair up inside some sort of old-fashioned sleep cap and wrapped herself in a bulky, flower-print robe. Her eyes were puffy slits and she looked anything but happy to be called to Dawn's room.

"I think it's started."

The slitted lids parted halfway. "What has started?"

Dawn wished she and Gilda had been getting along better. She could use some help now but didn't know how much Gilda would be willing to give. Dawn had asked forgiveness for what had happened to Henry, but Gilda didn't seem to have much of that in her.

"Labor! I think the baby's coming."

The older woman's eyes popped wide open. "Yes? This is true?"

"I think so. I've had three now."

The woman's face creased as she smiled and clapped her hands. "I must call the Master!"

"Never mind him! Call Doctor Landsman!"

"No-no-no!" she said, bustling out. "The Master must know first!"

Mr. Osala was in North Carolina or someplace like that. What could he do?

Dawn punched her pillow. She'd call Dr. Landsman herself if she had a phone. But she didn't, and didn't know the passcode for the few the duplex contained.

So she watched the clock and waited. Twelve minutes and still counting when Gilda returned, looking uncertain.

"He is not answering and he has not responded to my messages."

"Maybe just as well," Dawn said. "It seems to have stopped. Maybe it was just, you know, false labor."

"Perhaps."

"Do you have any children?"

Her expression hardened into the stony look Dawn had grown accustomed to. "Yes."

"How many?"

"One."

"A boy or a girl?"

"A boy."

This was totally like pulling teeth.

"What's his name?"

"Kristof."

"What was delivering him like?"

Her eyes glittered and her lips curved into a smile. "Terrible. I was your age. The worst pain I ever have had. I will never forget it."

Dawn's stomach lurched. What a mean bitch. "You're just saying that. You're just saying that to scare me."

Gilda shook her head slowly back and forth, right, then left, once each way. "No, it is truth. But in end I had my Kristof."

"Does he work for Mister Osala too?"

A single nod. "In a way."

"Does-?"

And then a contraction hit, harder than before. She writhed on the bed.

"It's back! Call Doctor Landsman. Now!"

Gilda hurried out, leaving Dawn to deal with the pain. This one was lasting longer than the others. It seemed to go on forever.

Gilda popped back holding a terry-cloth robe, usually reserved for the pool area.

"The doctor says to come right away."

Dawn struggled from her bed and started for her closet. She'd been wearing an oversized Giants T-shirt to bed these days.

"I need to get dressed first."

"No-no-no! He says baby will come very quickly when it begins." She held up the robe by its shoulders and shook it. "Come-come. Georges awaits to drive you."

Dawn hesitated, then turned and slipped her arms into the sleeves. She'd be changing into a hospital gown as soon as she got there anyway.

Gilda hustled her out into the hall where Georges waited like a bad portent. A liveried block of granite, with about as much emotion. Without a word-he rarely spoke-he led her to the penthouse's elevator. Dawn was praying she wouldn't get hit with another contraction before the hospital. She didn't want to double over in front of Georges.

Not like he gave off a creepy vibe or anything. He gave off no vibe, and that was sort of creepy in itself. He looked relaxed and wide awake in his fresh, uncreased suit. Didn't he ever sleep?

She realized the insides of her thighs felt wet. She looked down and saw thin fluid running down her legs into the Crocs she'd slipped on. Her gut clenched. She knew what that meant.

"My water broke!"

Georges looked down, looked at her, then pulled out his cell phone and pressed a button. After a few seconds he said, "Gilda? Mess in elevator."

The door slid open into the building's front hall. Georges led the way to the front doors.