The Orion Deception by Tom Bielawski Page B

that man had tried to kill them, Lainne still pitied him and the corner he had chosen to back himself into.

    The three waited in the dank chamber with the corpse of the deceased assassin for nearly an hour, all the while checking for signs that the coast was clear for them to leave. Lainne was on pins and needles, hoping and praying that they could leave the rat-hole they were in before any other assassins showed up. For the moment, it seemed that the only presence beyond their hideout was that of the local police responders and the Commonwealth Guard Police, which was bad enough.
    No one talked during that time, each alone with his thoughts and plans for the coming hours. It seemed to Lainne that their lives must be measured in hours now, instead of years. It was very hard for her to think in terms of time beyond the present. She thought it must somehow be a survival instinct, a way to ensure that one's complete awareness was focused on enduring the ordeal and detecting and avoiding danger. Even after the sounds of the police activity had died down and the cruisers had apparently left, the three waited. It seemed that she was aware of every croaking bull frog, every splash of a mullet jumping in the river, and every cricket rubbing its legs together in song.
    Finally, the interminable wait ended and Heck decided it was time for him to conduct a reconnaissance of the area. Very quietly, and very slowly, he opened the door to the hidden chamber far enough for him to slip out. Gelad closed the door behind him, leaving Heck in the darkness on the ledge. He stood very still for nearly five minutes, hoping that if anyone had noticed the movement of the door they would assume that was just a shadow in the greater darkness of the tunnel and move on.
    When he was satisfied that he had avoided the attention of any potential sentries and no alarm had been sounded that he could hear, Heck slipped silently into the murky water. Heck was no stranger to Florida and well knew the threat of alligators lurking in the darkness. But he also knew that alligators would not likely attack something they thought to be a threat to themselves, and there were very few things in that category. So, Heck swam with a knife he had taken from the assassin in each hand. If an alligator grabbed him, he hoped he would be able to react quickly enough to stab it in the eye or snout or its soft underbelly in hopes of convincing it that he was far too dangerous to tangle with. And Heck knew that if he could pull that off he would be lucky indeed.
    Heck swam quietly through the dark water then climbed safely out onto the concrete platform below the bridge on the other side. Again, there had been no alarm and no indication he had been spotted. Very slowly he moved to the upriver side of the platform, the south side where the Swampwater Inn was located. Then, he peeked his head just far enough around the corner to look down the river's bank. From his vantage point, there was enough of a bend in the river that he could actually see the parking lot beside the Swampwater Inn . Luckily, much of the police presence had disappeared but there were still a few officers present and a pair of police cruisers, engines idling, were stationary in the parking lot.
    Heck squinted in the dim light to identify if the cruisers were local or Commonwealth. After a moment he could make out the tell-tale green and gray hulls and five-point star emblems of county sheriff cruisers. Doubtless one each from Lake and Volusia Counties, as the river was the dividing line between the two.
    He looked upriver to the south and then back downriver to the north, continually scanning the police activity. A small boat was in the water south of the restaurant, a spotlight flashed this way and that as a man with a long hook was pulling things from the river. Heck smiled grimly, their ploy had worked. Looking back downriver to the north he saw that there was no activity, just a few lights from homes