spoke again. “Is a man named Reston in here? We just have a question, we’re not going to hurt you.”
The men stared at him, at both of them, and John wondered, for just a second, if they knew what they were doing there; if they knew what Umbrella was doing. They didn’t look like Nazis, they looked like a bunch of working stiffs. Like guys who put in a hard day and liked to throw back a few beers in the evening. Like—like guys.
And what did Nazis look like? These people are a part of the problem, they’re working for the enemy. They’re not going to help us —
“Blue ain’t here.” A big bearded man in a T-shirt and boxers, one of the ones John had been keeping an eye on. His voice was gruff and irritable, his face still puffy from sleep.
John glanced at Leon, surprised, and saw that the rookie looked the same. “Blue?” John asked. “Is that Reston?”
A man sitting at the end of the table with longish hair and grease-stained hands nodded. “Yeah. And that’s Mister Blue to you.”
The sarcasm was pointed. There were a couple of dark looks exchanged within the sitting group—and a couple of chuckles.
Reston’s one of the key guys, Trent said. And just about everybody hates their boss… but so much that they’d talk shit about him to a couple of terrorists?
Reston must be real unpopular.
“Is there anyone else working here who isn’t in this room?” Leon asked. “We don’t want to be surprised…”
The implications were obvious, but it was also obvious that they weren’t going to get anything else from the assembled employees. They might hate Reston, but John could see from the crossed arms and scowls that they wouldn’t talk about one of their own. If there was anyone else in the facility, which he doubted. Trent had said it was a small staff.
…which means it was probably Reston who brought us down, which means we could kill two birds if we find him—get the book and get him to start up the elevator again. We lock Reston in a closet, hook up with David and the girls and get gone before anything else unexpected comes up.
John nodded at Leon, and they backed up to the door. John realized that he didn’t want to just walk out, that he felt a kind of sympathy for the men that he’d dragged out of bed. Not a lot, but something.
“We’re gonna lock the door here,” John said, “but you’ll be okay until the company sends someone, you got food… and if you don’t mind a little advice, listen up—Umbrella ain’t the good guys. Whatever they’re paying you, it isn’t enough. They’re killers.”
The blank stares followed them out of the room. Leon closed the double doors and started to rig up the makeshift lock, threading the chain through the handles and bending the hangers. John walked the few steps to the corner and looked down the long gray hall that they’d stepped into from the elevator. They could continue on the way they’d been going to look for Reston, there was a bend in the corridor not far past the staff housing area—
—but he’s not that way, John thought, remembering the sound he’d heard when they’d first arrived. He’s back the way we came, somewhere.
Leon finished securing the doors and joined him, looking a little pale but still game. “So… now we look for Reston?”
“Yeah,” John said, thinking that the kid was doing pretty well, considering. Not a lot of experience, but he was smart, he had guts, and he didn’t clutch under the gun. “You holding up?”
Leon nodded. “Yeah. I’m just—do you think they’re okay up there?”
“No, I think they’re freezing their asses off waiting for us,” John said, smiling, and hoped that was the case—that after locking down the elevator, Reston hadn’t released the hounds, or whatever equivalent this place had.
Or called for help…
“Let’s get this over with,” John said, and Leon nodded, as they started back down the hall to see what was what.
TEN
They headed out into the
The men stared at him, at both of them, and John wondered, for just a second, if they knew what they were doing there; if they knew what Umbrella was doing. They didn’t look like Nazis, they looked like a bunch of working stiffs. Like guys who put in a hard day and liked to throw back a few beers in the evening. Like—like guys.
And what did Nazis look like? These people are a part of the problem, they’re working for the enemy. They’re not going to help us —
“Blue ain’t here.” A big bearded man in a T-shirt and boxers, one of the ones John had been keeping an eye on. His voice was gruff and irritable, his face still puffy from sleep.
John glanced at Leon, surprised, and saw that the rookie looked the same. “Blue?” John asked. “Is that Reston?”
A man sitting at the end of the table with longish hair and grease-stained hands nodded. “Yeah. And that’s Mister Blue to you.”
The sarcasm was pointed. There were a couple of dark looks exchanged within the sitting group—and a couple of chuckles.
Reston’s one of the key guys, Trent said. And just about everybody hates their boss… but so much that they’d talk shit about him to a couple of terrorists?
Reston must be real unpopular.
“Is there anyone else working here who isn’t in this room?” Leon asked. “We don’t want to be surprised…”
The implications were obvious, but it was also obvious that they weren’t going to get anything else from the assembled employees. They might hate Reston, but John could see from the crossed arms and scowls that they wouldn’t talk about one of their own. If there was anyone else in the facility, which he doubted. Trent had said it was a small staff.
…which means it was probably Reston who brought us down, which means we could kill two birds if we find him—get the book and get him to start up the elevator again. We lock Reston in a closet, hook up with David and the girls and get gone before anything else unexpected comes up.
John nodded at Leon, and they backed up to the door. John realized that he didn’t want to just walk out, that he felt a kind of sympathy for the men that he’d dragged out of bed. Not a lot, but something.
“We’re gonna lock the door here,” John said, “but you’ll be okay until the company sends someone, you got food… and if you don’t mind a little advice, listen up—Umbrella ain’t the good guys. Whatever they’re paying you, it isn’t enough. They’re killers.”
The blank stares followed them out of the room. Leon closed the double doors and started to rig up the makeshift lock, threading the chain through the handles and bending the hangers. John walked the few steps to the corner and looked down the long gray hall that they’d stepped into from the elevator. They could continue on the way they’d been going to look for Reston, there was a bend in the corridor not far past the staff housing area—
—but he’s not that way, John thought, remembering the sound he’d heard when they’d first arrived. He’s back the way we came, somewhere.
Leon finished securing the doors and joined him, looking a little pale but still game. “So… now we look for Reston?”
“Yeah,” John said, thinking that the kid was doing pretty well, considering. Not a lot of experience, but he was smart, he had guts, and he didn’t clutch under the gun. “You holding up?”
Leon nodded. “Yeah. I’m just—do you think they’re okay up there?”
“No, I think they’re freezing their asses off waiting for us,” John said, smiling, and hoped that was the case—that after locking down the elevator, Reston hadn’t released the hounds, or whatever equivalent this place had.
Or called for help…
“Let’s get this over with,” John said, and Leon nodded, as they started back down the hall to see what was what.
TEN
They headed out into the
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