Page 76 of Freedom Fighters
Garrett studied the door, running his fingertips over the hinges. It was a simple hollow core door that swung into the room. Because the frame was on the outside, they couldn’t kick the door from its lock. They could kickthroughthe door for it was a flimsy thing, although whoever guarded the door on the other side would hear them long before they finished bustingthrough.
Just like the door, the hinges were normal, too. Garrett worked the thin edge of the ruler into the small gap between the head of the hinge pin and the hinge beneath, sliding the ruler deep. He worked it, bending the ruler up and down and pummeling the opposite edge with the side of his fist.
The pin moved. If it squeaked, Carmen didn’t hear it. The wind screamed outside the building,making her thoughts fuzzy and discordant.
Once the pin extended above the hinge by an inch, Garrett worked it with his fingers, lifting it out of the metal tube the hinge created. The hinge didn’t move.
He dropped to his knees and worked on the bottom hinge the same way. When both pins were lying on the floor next to the doorframe, he got to his feet and came over to where she was sitting.
“I need your help.” He had to lift his voice over the shrieking wind.
She struggled to her feet and Garrett helped her to the door. She looked at him expectantly.
He put his lips close to her ear. “We pull the door out. You deal with whoever is on the other side. If there’s two, I’ll take the second.”
She went over to the box of office supplies where Garrett had found the ruler and rummagedthrough it. She spotted what she was looking for and hauled it out from the bottom of the box. The paper punch was a heavy duty metal one, with a rubber sole. She gripped it and gave it a swing, glad that her left shoulder had taken the shot. Swinging weight was impossible with that hand, although she was right-handed.
Garrett still worked at the door. This time, though, he slid his fingers underneaththe door itself, scraping his knuckles against the concrete floor. Carmen settled herself to one side of him. Now the door had no hinges, that side would open like a normal door, with the lock on the other side acting as a hinge of sorts…unless there was a bolt on that side. She didn’t remember seeing a bolt, just a normal office doorknob, round and bronzed, with a key slot in the middleof it. On this side of the door, the knob used to have a locking button. Someone had jimmied the knob and removed the button.
Garrett got a grip on the bottom of the door and looked up at her. She nodded.
He hauled on the bottom of the door, the tendons in his neck standing out. Carmen watched the side of the door, which didn’t move.
Garrett stood, swearing. It sounded soft, under the noiseof the wind. He rubbed at the tips of his fingers, which were mottled, as he studied the hinges. Then he held out his hand. “Give me that for a moment.”
She handed him the paper punch. He weighed it in his hand, still studying the hinges. Then he swung and struck the top one, the rubber base of the punch bouncing off the hinge.
Then he hit the bottom one. The blows were silent. There was toomuch sound and fury elsewhere to hear the muffled thud the punch must have made.
After three strikes against each hinge, Garrett paused and looked at them again. The curled-over sections that slotted into each other to form the tube that held the pin were mis-aligned by a quarter inch.
Carmen understood what he had been trying to do with the punch. The hinges had been glued together by time,dust, the load of the door itself and the pin holding them. Oil or graphite added to make the hinges work without squeaking or friction would have dried over the years, forming a crust that had to be broken, too. By hitting the hinges with the punch, Garrett had jarred the two sides of the hinges far enough apart they should now move freely.
He gave her the punch and bent to slide his fingersunder the door once more. He didn’t kneel this time. Instead, he put his weight on the back of his heels and leaned back, using his body weight to haul at the door.
The hinges gave a little more.
Carmen gripped the punch harder, her heart slamming against her chest. All Garrett’s instructions over the last few weeks were echoing in her brain.Keep your weight spread on both feet, it lets youtake off faster. The first person to strike is usually the last, so make sure you’re the first. Breathe deeply before you start. You won’t get a chance to breathe again until later.
She breathed deeply, watching the door pull away from the frame. As soon as it separated, Garrett pushed his fingers around the edge of the door and hauled.
The door moved fitfully, the handle holding it in placegiving way a fraction of an inch at a time. Three inches of space showed between the door and the frame now. Surely one of the guards would notice?
Then the lights went out.
“Shit!” Garrett breathed.
Somewhere down the corridor, a muffled crash sounded, loud enough to be heard over the wind.
* * * * *
Adjuno was the heaviest in the team. Duardo had deliberately picked him for his body weight,knowing something like this might be needed. He watched Adjuno step back from the plywood wall and grip the studs to either side, bracing himself. Then he lifted his boot and rammed it against the strained and splintered wood.
Unlike normal wood, the wall didn’t crack down the length of the grain, because there was no grain. Instead, Adjuno put his whole boot through the wall. Then he threw himselfat it, ramming the wall with his elbow and full weight. He repeated the action two more times.
The wall didn’t crumble. It tore away from the rivets holding it to the studs and flew across the room to skid up against the wall there.
Almost directly opposite, there was a closed interior door. No light showed under it because they had cut every critical circuit in the building. As Adjuno steppedinto the room, Duardo moved up to the gaping hole in the wall and leaned in to look around. A junction box, painted to match the wall, was mounted to the left. It was a small piece of luck.
