Free The Identity Thief by C. Forsyth Page B

down the tunnel, X came to a juncture where a sewer drain, 15 feet above, above cast a parallelogram-shaped beam of light, unveiling graffiti scrawls and arcane official markings reminiscent of hieroglyphics. The sudden illumination also revealed cockroaches scuttling over the walls, while crawfish the size of trout wallowed in the green-brown water. Compared to that loathsome sight, the dark was almost comforting.
    In the distance X heard approaching voices. Reluctantly, he abandoned the oasis of light and broke into a run, splashing in the opposite direction.
    Traci and a team of eight heavily armed agents were at this point no more than 500 yards to the east. There were 10 such teams pouring into the tunnels from various ports of entry. The searchers were outfitted with masks, hazmat suits and rubber waders that reached to their waists. Traci's high-intensity LED flashlight illuminated rats swishing through the water, on top of which floated a child's doll, a basketball and a moldy, torn-up sneaker.
    Though theoretically protected from biohazards, the overall repulsiveness of the place brought Traci nearly to the point of retching. Only her pride prevented her from ripping off her mask and puking in full view of the otherwise all-male crew.
    Pulaski, an expert from the city's Streets and Sanitation Division who looked a bit like Tony Soprano, guided them, pausing now and then to consult a map. They had reached yet another fork and had to decide which way to go.
    "We're just under Bonanza Road now," the beer-bellied guide informed her, panting from the effort of their descent. "That way leads east, that's west."
    Traci flashed her light down one corridor, then the other. Each was equally dismal, each equally forbidding.
    "We split up," she decided.
    "That cuts us to four," protested a husky male subordinate.
    "I can divide, Agent Greavy," she said sharply.
    X sloshed down a snaking tunnel, guided by blind instinct. To his alarm he saw two pinpricks of light appear suddenly in the distance. As the far-off flashlights swiveled in his direction, he crouched down, barely ducking the beams in time. Then, with no other option, he lay flat, head underwater. After holding his breath as long as he could - close to a minute - he surfaced, gasping for breath. The lights were gone.
    He struggled to his feet and staggered on.
    Traci walked alongside the husky male agent, who was just a few years older than herself.
    "So, are you married or what?" Greavy asked casually.
    She couldn't believe she was being hit on, decked out in full hazmat attire, mired in crappy water and in the midst of the most intense manhunt the city had ever seen.
    "That's not appropriate," she responded sternly.
    "Just making small talk. Yeesh, excuuuuse me."
    The talk at headquarters was that Traci was a lesbian, a theory G-men could not resist frequently putting to the test.
    "Hey, what happened at the Giza?" the agent blundered on. "You wouldn't believe some of the rumors floating around. Some people are even saying you gave the guy a- "
    "Shh! I see something," she whispered.
    X emerged from a narrow tunnel and suddenly a bright beam of light shone in his face. He cowered from it like a vampire avoiding sunlight. Then he raised his hands quickly.
    I beat the odds making it this far, he thought.
    A hoarse voice came from behind the glare. "Are you from the city?"
    X didn't skip a beat. "Yes," he said, lowering his hands. "What are you doing here?" He pumped as much authoritative bass into his voice as he could summon. "This area is off limits."
    "Hunting rats," the stranger said. "I sell the pelts for women's winter hats."
    "I see," X said. Then paused and added, "That can't be true."
    "No. But then again, you're not from the city, now are you?"
    The stranger directed the flashlight at himself and X saw that he was a wrinkled, 70-something man wearing the tattered remnants of a priest's garb, including a stained white collar.
    "Are you lost?" the old man