The resulting flash was brighter than he would have preferred. Gulping, Alex felt his blood rushing toward his feet as the flashbulb's momentary discharge caused Bad Attitude to glance in Alex's direction. He hurriedly shot several more photos, in every direction except the mystery man's, before furtively risking a glimpse back at his unwilling (and highly intimidating) photographic subject. To his relief, the surly gunman was no longer paying any attention to Alex, having shrugged off the presence of the lanky teenage shutterbug. Thank goodness! Alex thought, feeling his racing pulse slow to something closer to a normal human rate. Now the only question was, having already pressed his luck this far, did he really have the nerve to keep on trailing the dangerous suspect? His resolve was tested only ten minutes later when the looming target of his surveillance checked his watch and grunted in approval. Carelessly tossing an empty candy wrapper onto the concrete floor of the rest area, Bad Attitude stomped toward the passage to the Big Room. What was he waitingfor? Alex wondered, giving the guy a few seconds' head start before sticking his camera back in his pocket and taking off in pursuit.
Once he realized the shooter was definitely heading for the Big Room, Alex grew worried that Bad Attitude was going to run right into Liz and the others. He considered running ahead to warn them, but quickly decided that would be jumping the gun, no pun intended. The Big Room was big, after all; chances were, the burly gunman would completely miss Liz and Co. in the vast, crowded recesses of the enormous cavern.
Certainly, Bad Attitude wasn't interested in sight-seeing. He hiked right across the paved, level surface of the Big Room, ignoring such popular attractions as the Painted Grotto and the Rock of Ages. Instead he marched straight to the far end of the gargantuan cavern, where he paused in front of a gaping chasm that a nearby sign identified as THE BOTTOMLESS PIT.
Alex gulped, finding it all too easy to visualize the bad- tempered hoodlum throwing him bodily into the Pit, where he would probably fall for several long minutes before ending up impaled on some razor-sharp stalagmite. Knock it off, he told his overeager imagination. No more of that now. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he ambled casually over to the end of the cave, faking an interest in one odd-shaped calcite deposit after another. Boy, could I use that newspaper! he thought yearningly.
Meanwhile, Bad Attitude waited with growing impatience by the Pit, tapping his foot restlessly while searching the faces of the tourists parading past the chasm. He was looking for someone, Alex deduced, but was it Liz? At one point, the man's bellicose gaze passed directly over Alex without any flicker of recognition or interest, and Alex had to resist an urge to sigh loudly in relief. Despite the chill atmosphere, he was sweating heavily beneath his sweater, the perspiration causing the fabric of his T-shirt to cling to his back. "Keep cool," he whispered to himself, avoiding eye contact with the menacing lone gunman. "We can do this, for Liz's sake."The hefty suspect, who had been known to fire off guns in public places, had grumpily checked his watch at least three times before another man finally approached him. "About time," Bad Attitude snarled, his raspy voice not sounding any friendlier or less intimidating than the rest of him. "You're late."The newcomer murmured something in reply, but Alex couldn't quite make it out. He took a second to scope out the Johnny-come-lately, risking a quick stare at the stranger, before concentrating, or so it seemed, on a rounded rock formation that bore a surprising resemblance to a Teletubby. Don't mind me, he thought, wishing he possessed some small fraction of Isabel's telepathic gifts. I'm just checking out Tinky-Winky here. Nothing for you to worry about…
Bad Attitudes tardy visitor could not have been more different than the disreputable-looking gunman. Clean-cut and neady groomed, the second man wore an unscuffed leather flight jacket, aviator-style sunglasses, and newly-pressed blue slacks. Alex had relatives in the military, so he recognized the type right away. Some sort of cop or soldier, he guessed, a theory confirmed only seconds later when he heard Bad Attitude address the other man as "Lieutenant."Probably from Fort Bliss or White Sands, he surmised; both military bases were only a few hours' drive from Carlsbad-and strictly off-limits to civilians. What sort of business could this lieutenant possibly have with a gun-wielding thug like Bad Attitude? He considered trying to snap a photo of the nameless officer, but was afraid that would give him away for sure. The region around the Pit was murkily lit, the better.to show off the colored spotlights illuminating the chasm; there was no way either the gunman or the lieutenant could miss the flash when it went off, and Bad Attitude had already let Alex take one "accidental" snapshot of him. Trying for a second surveillance photo would definitely be pushing his luck, maybe all the way into the waiting Pit.
"Over here," the shooter said gruffly, nodding toward a vacant corner of the cave, where they could better converse in privacy As the two men relocated, Alex stealthily circled around the nearest gnarled stone column, keeping the immense pillar between him and the unlikely pair. He still couldn't hear everything being said-the caverns irregular contours made for strange acoustics-but he could make out snatches of the conversation.
"Look, Morton, I got (inaudible) as soon as I could," the Lieutenant complained. From his tone, Alex could tell this was no friendly rendezvous. "You don't understand the pressure I'm under… (something, something) watching me all the time."The shooter, whose name was apparently Morton, was less than sympathetic. "Yeah, yeah. Have you (mutter, mumble) the merchandise?"The lieutenant lowered his voice, making it harder for Alex to eavesdrop. "(Something) hidden…(mumble) not here… (whisper) too public… (mutter) the money?"You'll get the money when (something)," Morton said firmly, if not entirely audibly. Alex wished he could somehow turn up the volume on the two co- conspirators. Whatever they were up to, it was obviously something fishy. "Tonight. Midnight. (Mumble, mumble) Slaughter Canyon."Alex recognized the name as the site of one of the less touristy caverns Max had mentioned earlier, a short drive away. Slaughter Canyon sounded like something out of a Scooby-Doo cartoon, but it was a real enough place to serve, so it seemed, as the locale for some sort of illicit transaction between Morton and the lieutenant. Is this about drugs? he wondered. Military secrets? Illegal aliens, of the non-extraterrestrial variety? This close to the Mexican border, it was easy to imagine all kinds of nefarious smuggling operations. We never did find out, he recalled, what that gunfight in the Crashdown was all about.
Having dispensed with the meat of their discussion, the two men wandered back toward the Pit, forcing Alex to shift position in order to keep out of their line of sight. "You stay here for a while," he ordered the lieutenant, making it pretty clear who was calling the shots in this partnership. "Don't leave too quickly." He spit rudely onto the floor of the cavern. "Let me get out of here first."Sure," the lieutenant said nervously. "Of course." Alex guessed that the unnamed military man was acutely afraid of being caught at whatever shady business he was up to; why else would he be wearing shades eight hundred feet below ground? Thoughts of international espionage raced through Alex's hyperactive mind. What in the world have we gotten into this time, he wondered, his heart pounding, and when did my life turn into a never-ending episode of The X-Files? Assuming that Morton would be heading for the elevator next, Alex decided he needed to report back to Max and the others before Morton left the caverns entirely. Making a break for it, he darted out from behind the tapered column and made tracks for the secluded grotto where he had left his friends, zigzagging through and around clusters of strolling tourists. Damn it, he thought impatiently, in a hurry to get where he was going, did the Big Room have to be so darn big? By the time he reached the grotto, maybe ten minutes later, he was out of breath and panting. At first he didn't recognize the redhead in the yellow sweater, tucked between Max and Maria, then he did a double take when he realized it was Liz. Whoa, he thought. That's just too weird.