Algorithm - Book 1 - The Medallion

Chapter 12

"Good afternoon, Hedda. Are you going to introduce me to your pretty young friend?"

Linda closed the door and followed Hedda. Before she could reply, Linda spoke up. "My name is Linda Garcia, and I'm here as Hedda's guest."

"And where are the other two?"

Hedda said, "That's none of your business. These folks are my guests. You still haven't explained yourself."

"Explain myself, Hedda?  This is my office, my colliery, my land. I do not need to explain anything to you." 

Wiping his mouth with his free hand, Herman continued. "I know Ben and Adam Dove are also on the premises." 

He paused a moment, rose to his feet and looked directly at Hedda. His face was grim, and the sneer mutated into a worm of a frown. "I also know that Dr. Dove has an artifact in his possession that is most unusual. And it is this that I've come here to see."

Hedda's face turned crimson. She took a step closer to Herman. "So that's why you were chasing us, hunting us down like animals?  You couldn't just ask?  You're the same bullying dog that ran my husband into the ground so many years ago. Nothing changes."

"Now Hedda, it's not like that at all. This whole affair of the chase is just a misunderstanding. I only wish to talk to Dr. Dove and see the relic."

"Smooth talk. I ain't havin' it. We're gonna leave this place, and you ain't gonna follow us." 

Hedda turned to the door with Linda in tow. They both froze at the unmistakable metallic sound of a live round entering a pistol chamber.

***

Adam felt the cage wire slicing into his fingers. His shins were screaming. In seconds the pain would begin to exceed his threshold. Dangling as he was, he knew there was no way back.

"You idiot!  You're gonna kill yourself."

True enough.

Adam moved hand over hand to the left in an attempt to circumnavigate the caged room, trying to find a way out before his fingers lost the little strength remaining. Through the gloom he spied the remains of a wooden platform at the entrance to the cage. He lunged and curled one hand on the base of the railing, and swung his body around the corner. He hung there, arms embracing the metal post. And then the cage shook violently.

The uniform was not giving up.

Adam drew himself up and sat on the narrow platform. With a moment to regain his bearings, he rubbed his shins in a wholly inadequate attempt to ameliorate the throbbing. He swallowed when he noticed dark stains on his jeans. His hands were bleeding. The cage shuddered once more. The uniform was rounding its corner.

The descending staircase was long gone. Adam stood up and peered into the cage. The sheet metal floor, coated with soot and streaked with rust, sloped into the center like a rectangular funnel. Above him dangled the tattered remnants of a chute.