secured by a wall brace, and he smashed it with the stock of his rifle.
“We’re going inside?” Beth asked.
“Yep.”
SERGEANT HAFIZ DECIDED TO go out himself. Two patrols were now out of contact, and he was out of guards. The three corporals who had led the patrols were absent—he did not know where they were—and all of the Taliban security forces were either dead or unaccounted for. All that was left was the approximately one hundred civilian workers on the night shift and the ten men of the NMO security team. The civilian construction workers would be even more useless in the valley than the Taliban roughnecks, and Hafiz would be damned before he begged help from Ayman al-Masri. By the process of elimination, that left it on his shoulders.
That was probably best, he thought, as he walked to the western end of the bridge, descending stairwells along the way because he could move faster on foot than waiting for an elevator. Getting around the complex reminded him of being within a big ship, where multiple levels were woven together for a common purpose. The comm operations were near the top, on the east end, but he did not want to call Islamabad again. General Gul would want answers that he did not have. He had already given cause for concern by pestering them for the regular troops.
The defense control system was housed on the eastern side, deeper into the mountain. It would have been nice if the chief engineer had picked some other time to go crazy, so he could have been in there to work the fancy defense suite and its deadly electronic network. Hafiz brushed the thought aside. He had to deal with reality, not fantasy.
He came to his own small quarters, a single square in which were a small desk, a few shelves, a single bed, and a bathroom. His gear was folded in neat stacks, and he pulled out a rubberized poncho, then retrieved the AK- 47 beside the bunk and headed toward the lower exit, pulling on the rain gear. The weapon had been cleaned the previous night and had a full magazine, but Hafiz checked it anyway before slinging it across his shoulder.
A little room just off the entryway contained supplies for maintenance workers and people heading outside, including a rack of rechargeable battery-powered lanterns. Hafiz chose one that threw a powerful beam.
Hafiz pushed down the lever to unlock the main door and gave it a shove.
BETH LEDFORD WAS FLAT against the wall on the right-hand side of the door, reaching out with her left to push down the lever. Kyle Swanson was on the opposite side, also with his back to the wall, weapon poised and his finger on the trigger, ready to charge in as soon as she yanked it open far enough. You never knew what was behind any closed door.
Hafiz registered that something was not right as soon as the door had opened just enough for a strong burst of fresh wind to hiss in, indicating the outer gate at the other end was open to the storm. The door continued to swing outward, seemingly on its own, for unseen by Hafiz, Beth Ledford had grabbed the handle on the other side and was pulling on it. Hafiz dropped the lantern, which bounced on the concrete slab floor and sent the beam of light dancing in the darkness. He fumbled to pull the AK-47 from the shoulder sling as a shadowy figure appeared in the open space, with a rifle already pointed at him. Hafiz did not panic, although he realized that his opponent had the advantage.
Swanson had stepped forward and saw a large man bulked up in a poncho, unlimbering a weapon and staring straight at him.
Sergeant Hafiz felt the impact of the bullets. The shock of the attack masked some of the pain; then his head collided with the floor and his face came to rest with his eyes staring directly into the fierce glow of the lantern. He tried to make his hands grab the rifle so he could fight back. His body would not answer his brain’s command.
Hafiz could detect the nearness of his attacker, but there was nothing he could do. There was a brilliant flash, but he did not hear the rifle fire when Beth Ledford pumped a final shot into his head.
21
BETH AND SWANSON EACH grabbed a wrist of the lifeless, heavy body of Sergeant Hafiz and hauled it outside to dump it in the soggy brush beside the trail. Returning through the gate that camouflaged the entrance, they swung it closed behind them and were in the tunnel and shut the inner door. Smeared blood streaked the smooth floor, and it was eerily still. Swanson pulled Ledford by the collar and put his mouth close to her ear.
“You stay on my six at all times, Coastie. Do what I do. No questions, and don’t hesitate,” he said. “We have to push forward as far as possible. If we get contact, follow my lead.”
She gave a quick nod but did not reply. That life-taking bullet she had fired point-blank into the big soldier’s head was something that she had watched Kyle do to the targets they had downed on the patrols, so she had copied the same move, pulling the trigger without emotion. Once it was done, the man was surely no longer a threat to them. It may have been standard operating procedure in special operations, and she had learned it in a violent way on the job, but she was not yet to the point that it would have no effect on her.
When she removed the night-vision goggles, Kyle saw tears welling in the blue eyes of his baby-faced assassin before she wiped them with her dirty sleeve. Because she had been going along so well, he had momentarily forgotten that she had not been trained for these gut-wrenching missions, that her surge of adrenaline had limits; she was running on fumes, and they had a long way to go. He pulled her into a hug, just as he would soothe a thoroughbred horse, or any first-timer getting a taste of close-up death. “You’re doing great, Beth,” he said. “As good as anybody, and better than most. Now let’s do this.”
The first steps were the hardest as they moved into unknown territory, but they had no choice. They were totally exposed in the hallway, which measured about six feet wide, big enough for a small tractor to pull a trailer of material or supplies. The ceiling was about seven feet high and supported by webs of metal girders. Neat clusters of pipes hid the electrical wiring, and long fluorescent bulbs glowed with a bluish tint. The low hum of electrical generators could be heard from elsewhere in the complex, and the constant vibration was transmitted through the stone walls.
Twenty feet down the hallway, on the right-hand side, was a closed door, and they crept toward it, stacking against each wall. Swanson saw it had no lock, just a knob, and he motioned for Beth to give it a slow turn. She opened the portal into a small room that was filled with neat stacks of cardboard and wooden boxes, routine supplies that probably serviced nearby facilities, including the entranceway. He motioned her inside, closed the door, and turned on the lights.
Mops and brooms stood around like spindly sentries, radios and flashlights were recharging on a long metal rack, and a pile of fresh towels lay on a shelf. The tangy odors from the jugs and bottles of various disinfectants and cleaning fluids assaulted their nostrils. A bin of dry rags occupied one corner. Kyle tossed a towel to Beth and used another to rub away the mud that was thick on his boots.
Beth took off the black beanie and shook her blond hair, then worked the towel into it hard and wiped her face. She tossed the hat aside, then also went to work on her boots. “I don’t think it matters any longer if they happen to notice I’m a woman,” she said. “I’m good to go, Gunny. Just some nerves.”
Kyle peeled off his own wet wool beanie and dried the top of his head and his face with a soft towel. It felt better. “This place is incredible. From the outside, it seemed like part of the mountain, but inside, it is something else entirely.”
“You think my brother got this far?”
“Probably. Even farther. Maybe the door had been left open to bring in supplies or something and they stumbled upon it and just came on in to explore, like kids on a holiday hike.”
Beth looked around the room. “There’s nothing here that would be worth killing them. That’s not it.”
They walked to the next room, and the next, working steadily until they cleared the lower corridor, but still found nothing of interest other than the sprawl of the subterranean labyrinth. Some areas were still under
