Read The Prisoner of Chillon and Scattered Short Stories Page 7

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  Harry followed on his hands and knees into a crawl-space connected to the main tunnels beneath Scone.

  “This should take a bit of new wiring, I think,” said one of the men up ahead, who was already examining some of the tangled wires carrying the compound’s electric and telephone lines. “Let’s move up and find the control box to tell Castle security what we’re up to.”

  “Do they know we’re coming?” piped in Harry, immediately sensing danger at the very word ‘security.’

  “Sure, our plans are their plans as well,” the senior man laughed. He patted Harry on the shoulder with the gentle hand of a coach discussing curveballs with his rookie pitcher. “Very soon in this business you’re going to find that the people using the phones and the lights are always on top of those fixing them.” The others laughed. “They always know where and when we’re doing anything.”

  Harry stopped to think for a second, and then continued after them. As he walked, he rummaged in his backpack and in a hidden pocket that he had sewed into his pants. The lead repairman picked up the phone. “Security, this is the repair crew sent for a maintenance check. Are we clear to establish temporary lines and fix some frayed wiring? The phones may be disconnected for a second or so.”

  The security guard at the main controls paused to check the register of arriving repair crews. “You’re on my list. Let me just check the phone lines for a second. . . okay, you’re clear to establish the temporary line now.”

  As soon as the intercom button was released, Harry lighted a small flare and kicked it past the three repairmen. A flash of bright green light filled the passageway. “What in bloody hell?!. . . “ Each man grabbed his neck and fell to the ground with a groan as Harry fired his tiny tranquilizer gun.

  “Yuck. I hate it when they grab their necks.” He stepped forward over the prostrate bodies and waited for a minute before activating the intercom. “All’s clear, ducky!” he reported to the security guard who replied with a curt ‘thank you.’ Harry began tying the men up with the wires in the tool boxes. “I love saying ‘ducky.’”