Velocity (Karen Vail #3)(125)

Glock in hand, she moved down the hall toward one of the condos, where light splashed out into the corridor. When she arrived, she saw a man of about Robby’s age, lying still on the floor. Pooled blood around his head.

She felt a pang in her stomach—but as she approached, she could tell the body type was significantly smaller and slighter. Gunshot wound to the head. No need to check for a pulse.

Vail rapidly cleared the rooms and found them empty. “Robby! You in here?” Listened. Nothing, not a grumble, a moan, a kick against a closet door. She moved back out toward the hallway and pulled LOWIS from her pocket. The signal appeared to be strong, glowing green and yellow.

She pulled her two-way and raised Clar on channel 9. “Mark, LOWIS has two lights: green and yellow. What does that mean?”

“Where are you?”

“Fifty-seventh floor of Vdara. Outside what I’m guessing is Villarreal’s condo. There’s a DB, GSW to the forehead.”

“We’ll call it in. Meantime, go down to a lower floor. Here’s the key. Green and brown are your friends: they mean you’re within fifty yards on the x-axis for green and within fifty yards in the y-axis for brown. Yellow or amber are bad: you’re out of range in the y-axis. But blue is the worst. You see blue, you’re cold—she’s totally lost the signal. They’ve moved beyond about a hundred yards in all directions.”

“Jesus, could you have made it more confusing?” Vail ran toward the staircase. No—the elevator. It was a risk, particularly if they were on a middle floor and she went down too far, she’d pass them by—but walking down dozens of flights would take too long if they were headed out of the building. How high is a floor in this building? How many yards?

Vail looked down at LOWIS and stopped. “Wait a minute—the signal. Mark, the display, LOWIS went black!”

“Stand by,” Clar said.

Vail stood there, heart pounding, emotion flooding her body, tears forming in her eyes. She stared at LOWIS’s blank screen. “C’mon, god-dammit, work! What’s wrong with you?”

“Okay, okay—” Clar’s voice boomed over the radio. “She’s fine. She’ll come back online. The signal from Ortega’s phone cut out. Either it was shut off or the battery came dislodged. But the FBI techs got it back and they’re using it as that roving bug we discussed. So here’s what you need to do. See that flat button on the right side?”

Vail fumbled with LOWIS and found the slight protrusion. “Yeah, yeah, I got it.”

“Push and hold it for five seconds. She’ll reboot and then she should pick up the new signal.”

“Reboot? I don’t have time for that. C’mon, Clar, what kind of piece of shit did you build?”

“Karen, another time I’d take offense to that.” His voice was calm and measured. “But I know you’re under tremendous stress. Take a breath. She’ll be up in a few more seconds.”

As Clar promised, the device had begun loading its operating system. “Okay—it’s scrolling through some red computer code.” She closed her eyes and took a breath. “Sorry about what I said.”

“Already forgotten. Now pay attention, she’s almost ready. She’ll reacquire the signal automatically. Nothing for you to do.”

Vail moved forward and pressed the elevator button. “What am I looking for?”

“Green and brown are good, remember? They mean you’re within fifty yards on the x-or y-axes. If you see amber or yellow, you’re out of the fifty yard range.”

The elevator door opened and Vail got in. “What about purple?”

“Oh, right. If she’s purple, turn left or right. Don’t know which. That’ll be in version 2.0. Like all of us, LOWIS has her limitations.”

Vail kept her eyes on the glowing green, yellow, and purple lights as the elevator descended rapidly. She pressed the button for 38, and would thereafter stop at 28, then every ten floors—and assess LOWIS’s color, because her target would be moving as well.

At 38, the display went blue—and a cold sweat broke out across her forehead. Her gaze flicked over to the numerical floor level display—to hell with the ten-floor plan. She hit L and watched LOWIS’s screen. As she approached Lobby, the light changed to green.

Bingo.

The doors slid apart and she ran forward, watching the LED display. Brown, amber—and purple. She could only turn left, which led her down the hall, toward the garage and the back of the building. A moment later, she sighed relief: LOWIS sported green and brown lights.

Vail left Vdara and followed the signs into the walkway that led to the Bellagio’s Spa Tower, a separate, though connected, high-rise that housed a glass-ceilinged conservatory, convention rooms, and luxury facilities for pampering hotel guests.

According to the placards she had seen, above her was the monorail that ferried guests from CityCenter directly into the Bellagio. She rotated her head left and right, Vegas’s unmatched nightscape partially visible through the glass walls. Halfway through the tunnel, she glanced down at the tracking device.

Brown and amber lights stared back at her. They were on the same level as she was, but more than fifty yards away.

Shit! She quickened her pace, then sprinted out of the walkway and into the Spa Tower. Ahead was a large, glass-enclosed storefront, “News-stand” emblazoned on the sign above the door. She ran past it and continued down the hall. The green LED came on, but the purple light once again flicked to life. She looked ahead, through the throng of passing people, but couldn’t see Robby—or anyone else who appeared to be moving at a pretty good clip. But as LOWIS had indicated, about a hundred feet ahead there was a turn in the corridor.