Lazlo’s Last Stand

If that did turn out to be the case, the worst that could happen would be that she’d have to turn back, and either try to find another way to slip past Kati and Josef or convince them to let her go. Since neither of those seemed a very likely alternative, she pressed on, although she was conscious, now, of the unknown tons of earth and rock pressing down on the ceiling above her. Having allowed the notion of cave-ins and rock falls to invade her thoughts, she’d let fear creep in with it. Fear that turned her skin clammy and her knees weak. A sudden attack of paralyzing claustrophobia seemed like a real possibility.

The only thing that kept her from giving in to panic completely was the realization that the air current did seem to be getting stronger. The chimney must be up ahead, somewhere. And getting closer.

And then she came to the end of the passageway.

Close to despair, she directed the flashlight all around the walls, searching for a seam, a crack of some kind. Finding nothing, she pounded her hand against the smooth walls in frustration. How could this be? The breeze…

The breeze was gone. She didn’t feel it anymore. When had it disappeared?

Creeping backward, she directed the light toward the ceiling. And a few yards back she found it-an opening big enough for a man to stand upright in. In her frightened focus on moving ahead she’d gone right past it.

She stood up shakily and aimed the flashlight’s beam higher into the hole. There-she could see where rusted iron spikes had been driven at intervals into the rock walls of the chimney. The first seemed too high to reach, but she discovered that by standing on her tiptoes she could just get a hand round it. It seemed solid enough. If only the others were, as well.

Now…how to hoist herself up into the chimney? She was no monkey; her upper-body strength wouldn’t be nearly up to the task. The problem had her stumped, until a search found shallow toe-holes carved in the tunnel walls directly below the shaft.

Thankful now for the height that had seemed such a burden to her in her gangly, geeky youth, Lucia tucked her flashlight into the waistband of her ski pants, looped the handles of her sewing bag securely over one shoulder and began to climb.

Chapter 12

Corbett set the Lazlo Group’s unmarked Citation down on a private and little-known airstrip in the countryside near Paris in a sullen gray overcast that perfectly matched his mood. He found the airfield deserted, the hangars and small terminal building locked up tight. This didn’t surprise him-given the state of the Group’s communications system, he’d feared something of the sort and had called ahead from Salzburg. When he’d gotten no answer at the airfield, he’d arranged for a cab to meet him. He could see the car now, the only one in the small graveled parking lot, engine off, the driver dozing behind the wheel.

He taxied the Citation into the shelter next to the larger of the two hangars, chocked its wheels, then jogtrotted around the terminal office building to the parking lot. When he tapped on the cabdriver’s window, the fellow jerked upright with a wide grin and spoke to him with a French accent Corbett thought might be Algerian. Corbett gave him a small salute, and the driver stretched an arm around to unlock the back door. Corbett opened it, tossed in his kit bag and climbed in after it.

Scarcely an hour later they were driving into the heart of Paris, just as night and a drizzly rain began to fall.

To Lucia’s profound relief, the vertical section of the shaft was only about ten or fifteen feet high-enough, though, for her shoulder, arm and leg muscles to begin to tremble rather alarmingly by the time she reached the first bend. From there on it angled upward at an easier slant, though still steep enough that she had to brace herself with her feet against the sides of the shaft to keep from slipping backward-which she did once or twice anyway, terrifyingly, heart-stoppingly, each time losing two or three feet before managing to stop her slide.

Eventually, after some interesting twists and turns and narrow places and one more sharp climb, she emerged into a small chamber filled with rocks and debris. Realizing this must be where the original discoverers of the shaft had broken through while digging their cistern, Lucia was elated-until she realized the ceiling of the cavern was at least three feet beyond her reach. Furthermore, she couldn’t see any signs of daylight, not a crack or a glimmer showing through at all.

Was this the end? Had the hole been filled in? Had she come this far only to have to turn back at this last stage before success-and freedom?

She sank to the floor of the chamber, exhausted and defeated, every muscle in her body quivering with fatigue. The sweat that had dampened her hair and sweater during her strenuous climb now chilled her to the bone. She couldn’t stay here long; she’d have to start back soon. But first…just a little rest. And in the meantime, she’d turn off the flashlight to save the batteries. She had no idea how long she’d been climbing, but even her long-life LED work light wouldn’t hold out forever.

To keep the sudden blackness from being such a shock, she closed her eyes before switching off the flashlight. When she did, all the thoughts that fear and concentration had been holding at bay came flooding into her mind.

How long have I been gone?

Poor Kati-what must she have thought when I didn’t come back? Have they been looking for me? Why haven’t I heard them in the cave?

What will Corbett say when he hears what I’ve done? He’ll be furious!

This was a stupid thing to do!

Oh, God, I hate to think about going back, creeping ignominiously back to face Kati’s tears and Josef’s…Well, he’ll be angry, almost certainly, but worried, most of all.

I feel so bad about that-making them worry.

It’s all such a mess. If only I could just stay here…sleep…just for a little while…

No! She couldn’t do that. Hypothermia would take her for sure. She had to move, start back now.

She opened her eyes and lay staring up at the blackness overhead, willing her tired body to move. And that was when she saw it. A crack…Not light, exactly, just a lighter bit of the darkness, so faint she thought at first it was only a phantom of some sort, a flaw on her retinas. But a straight line? What had Corbett said? Nature abhors a straight line…

She stood up and turned on the flashlight, studying the ceiling intently where she thought she’d seen the crack. And now she could see what she’d missed before: the faint outline of a wooden trapdoor, so coated with the mossy moldy growth of years, it was barely distinguishable from the earth around it.

Elation surged through her, then ebbed as quickly when she remembered she still had no way to reach the trapdoor. She needed a ladder. There must have been one at one time, she reasoned. Maybe it was still here, buried under the rubble.

Propping her flashlight on her sewing bag, she dropped to her knees and began to push, shove and roll the bigger rocks toward the center of the chamber. If nothing else, she told herself, fired with new determination, maybe she could pile them high enough so she could reach the door that way.

She’d scraped a good bit of skin off her hands before she remembered the gloves she had stashed in her bag, and once she had them on, it wasn’t long before her efforts hit paydirt. Along one wall she found a crude wooden ladder, where it had obviously fallen and remained undisturbed for years.

But again, her joy at the discovery was short-lived. The uprights, made of sturdy saplings, seemed strong enough, but several of the rungs had rotted away completely, and the ones that were left seemed unlikely to support her weight.

Furious, refusing to accept defeat now that victory was so close, Lucia snatched up her sewing bag and dumped the contents onto the dirt floor of the chamber. She had scissors. Underwear. Socks. A sweater. Enough material there, surely, to tie the rungs to the ladder. Scissors to cut the fabric into strips, and then to notch the wood.

Having made her decision, she wasted no time on second thoughts. Working quickly, she cut her bra,