“I wouldn’t start anything, Axel,” Mason said with a laugh. “But, while our secret team works in the darkness, it doesn’t appear like anybody from our skeleton crew gives a shit about coming down here—which I don’t understand. So I suggest we do a full sweep, and let’s get at it right now.”
With that, they organized into two teams—Mason and Axel as one team, starting at the south end, with Berkley and Troy and Nelson starting on the north end, both teams checking steel girders and such, doors, walls, and corners. They searched all the way back to the blast area. There they found the rest of the crew, including Denny, frozen in place and staring in horror.
When they joined them, Denny turned to look at him. “What are you guys doing?”
“Searching for more C-4,” Mason said grimly. “You don’t happen to know where any is, do you?” His flashlight swept across all the faces in front of them.
Chucky stared at them all. “C-4? I thought this was an accident.”
“Nope,” Troy said. “This was C-4.” He held up the one that he had in his hand. “We found this one.”
At that, several of the men stepped back.
“Holy shit,” one said. “Who’s trying to kill us?”
“I don’t know,” Troy said, “and maybe it’s not even a case of who, but maybe it should be a question of why. In the meantime, we need to keep searching for C-4, so either move out of our way or join us.”
Chucky and Winslow immediately joined them, as the others just stood off to the side and watched, as the search parties went step by step, slowly girder by girder, by each steel railing and ramp, and finally across to the opposite side.
When they got there, Troy said, “We’re clear on this side.”
Axel stepped toward him. “We’re clear on this side too.” Slowly they moved back down along the center, checking inside the doors, checking the walls, checking as much as they could. When they returned to the blast site again, all the crewmen remained there, waiting for them.
“Did you see anything?” Jonesy asked curiously.
Berkley couldn’t tell if anything other than curiosity was in his tone.
Troy shook his head. “No, I don’t believe any explosive is here, at the moment. But we need to check the next level up.”
“That’ll take forever,” Jonesy said. “There are so many rooms, and lots of the guys’ personal belongings are there. You can’t just go through the place.”
At that, Gregor, Gregor, stepped forward from the group. “Hell yes, they can. Do you have any idea what kind of money is involved here?”
“Shutting down this rig is probably costing billions.” Now Jonesy’s voice sounded positively cheerful.
Berkley tucked away that little tidbit of information in the back of her mind. It didn’t make any sense to her though, because it affected his paycheck too. What she really needed to know was whether there was any connection between these men, the women, and Jude and his brother. And maybe not even so much a connection to Jude and his brother. Maybe somebody thought these crewmen had participated in the rapes. But, if that were the case, she figured they’d end up in the morgue too.
Slowly they disbanded into groups and went upstairs to conduct the next searches. Gregor ran the group going through all the personal rooms.
By the time all those rooms had been searched, except for the rooms housing the current crew, Mason spoke up. “Now we’ll go search your rooms,” he said to the group, his hard tone, daring somebody to argue.
They all looked at each other. Chucky and Winslow broke the silence as they both spoke up, with an invitation to start with theirs. They opened the doors, and Troy and Axel, along with Mason and Nelson, went through their rooms, checking for anything potentially lethal or incriminating. But found nothing.
The four went through each room set aside for the remaining crewmen, and still nothing was found. When it came to her turn, Berkley just shrugged. “Come on in.” She walked down to her room and opened it up. Her bed was still disheveled the way it had been, her pajama bottoms thrown off to the side. The four men she trusted above all others here went through her belongings and, of course, didn’t find anything.
When they stepped back out, they looked at each other. Wondering what to do next.
Gregor asked, “What are the chances all the C-4 this saboteur has on hand has been used up now?”
“It’s possible,” Troy said. “I took pictures of it and sent it out for some extra information to be tracked on it.”
“What kind of information?”
“It still had its packaging, with barcodes,” he said, “so we’ll track where it was shipped from.”
“Good,” Gregor said, “because this is bullshit.”
They moved up one level to the kitchen, dining area, and management rooms, and carefully went through everything.
By the time they were done, Denny was beside himself. “Did you really think I’ve got C-4 in my kitchen?” His tone was incredulous.
“Do you really think that you will be spared from another blast like that last one?” Mason asked quietly. “Somebody hates you. Somebody hates everybody here. Did you ever consider that?”
Immediately Denny fell silent.
She knew about his record. He probably didn’t want anybody else to know though.
*
Now gathered in the dining area, she looked at the clock. “It’s five a.m.”
“Well, I’m not going back to sleep,” Denny muttered, returning to his kitchen, where he started banging around his pots and pans.
“What will you do?” Berkley asked him, interested in his reaction.
“When I’m upset,” he said, “I bake. I’ll make breakfast.”
“Isn’t it a little early for food?”
“Food-food, yes,” he said, “but I just said, I would bake.”
Troy listened to the cook’s tone, and Denny really was upset, but Troy didn’t necessarily understand what his reason was. Granted, there were lots of reasons to be upset right now. Troy walked over and, on the quiet, asked, “Denny, did you know the three women who had trouble here?”
Denny looked at him with a hard gaze. “Is there a reason you’re asking me?”
“Yes,” he said, “because we found some very disturbing photos on one of the managers’ phones.”
Denny’s eyebrows popped up. “Disturbing, how?”
“Let’s just say, disturbing sexual-exploitation photos.”
Denny winced. “That no-good son of a bitch,” he said. “That man has been trouble the whole time. And not just with girls.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, ask Daniel about his brother. If anybody did deserve to die, it’s that no-good doctor.”
“Did you know him any other place than here?”
“No, but people talk,” Denny said. “That guy was a rat, and I’m glad he’s dead. If I’d known he had something to do with hurting those poor girls, I would have poisoned him myself.” At that, he started sifting flour and sugar.
Troy looked over and caught Berkley yawning. He walked toward her. “Come on. Let’s get you back to bed,” he said. “No reason you can’t sleep for a couple hours.”