“Where’s Yury?” Matthew shouted. “Did anyone see where the terrorist leader went?”
“He ran out this door,” a girl shouted. “He can’t be far.”
The SWAT team reacted quickly, but Matthew beat them to it. “You four men come with me and follow Wilson, the rest of you secure the exits,” The SWAT leader ordered. “Don’t let anybody out of the school.”
Matthew raced through the door and into the corridor connecting the gym to Coach’s office. The door was closed, but he quickly searched the office. It was empty. The SWAT team came up behind him. “I wonder if Yury found the tunnels,” he said to the SWAT leader. “I’m familiar with the tunnels. You and another man come with me while the rest of you see if he went that way,” pointing at the front door.
He called Chris Lewis and didn’t waste time with greetings. “Yury might have entered the tunnels from the Coach’s office. Get some men to close off the other exits; I’m going in after him.” Matthew hung up before she could reply so she did as she was asked.
“It’s dark down here, with a lot of places to hide. Let’s be careful,” Matthew cautioned. The SWAT leader was as big as Matthew and not accustomed to taking orders from a civilian.
“With all due respect Mr. Wilson, this is what I’m paid to do. You’re welcome to come along, but my man and I will take the lead. Agreed?”
“Agreed, but let’s hurry and remember, this guy is very dangerous. He won’t hesitate to kill you.”
“We understand. Andrew, take the lead. Be careful.”
Yury wondered how it had come to this. He had known about the tunnels and this was his planned escape route. The others would go out the front door in a suicide mission, but he would use the tunnels to reach cold air return that led to the roof and eventual freedom. Despite the problems, he had almost made it. If the SWAT team had arrived 30 second later he would already be long gone. Now he was trapped and could hear his pursuers approaching. Should he give up and hope for another pardon or prisoner exchange? That would be the smart thing to do.
He could make out the voices of the men behind him, they were that close. It was time to give up. Yury started to rise out of the little cubbyhole he had found when he heard the words that changed his mind.
“Matthew, wait here while we check out the next turn. It looks like an ideal place for an ambush.”
“He was right,” Yury thought. “Come around that bend and I’ll kill you before you know I’m here.” He quickly reconsidered. Why not let the SWAT team go past and wait for Matthew Wilson, the man Yury wanted to kill more than anyone else. It would be suicide, because the SWAT team would come back and kill him. Would it be worth it? The answer was yes.
Yury scrunched back into his little cubbyhole, his dark clothes blending into the background and his face buried in his arms so that no light reflected off his white face. Andrew, and then the SWAT leader went by without noticing the small anomaly pressed against the wall. Both men swept their flashlights briefly on Yury but neither man noticed anything unusual. Yury watched them turn the corner and knew the coast was clear, for a couple minutes at least. He waited, but Matthew wasn’t behind them. He would need to go after Matthew which was okay with Yury. It was like hunting bears in the summer. All you needed to do was sneak into their cave and take them by surprise.
Matthew waited as ordered, but also because his senses warned him of impending danger. Yury was out there; he could feel it. Matthew never proclaimed he was a psychic, he didn’t believe in psychics, but Matthew was finely attuned to his senses and had learned to trust. Matthew waited. He was not armed. His only weapons were a cell phone and a few coins in his pocket. He wished he had the lead pipe he had given Coach earlier, but he would have to make do.
He dialed all but the last digit of the code, turned up the volume to maximum, and waited. The tunnel was pitch black with visibility less than three feet. Yury was almost on him when Matthew heard the slight rustling of clothing brushing against the far wall. He depressed the last number, left the phone on the floor, and stepped back behind a pillar. Moments later, the tunnel was filled with the immortal words and sounds of one of Matthew’s favorite Chuck Berry songs from the ‘50s;