She didn’t spend a lot of time trying to decipher the fear emanating from down the tunnel, it was more important to make certain she protected her team. Kane stayed in front of her. Mack took the other side of the wall, although there really was little room for both of them. Javier tapped Jaimie’s arm and signaled her to let Jacob go next. If the terrorists were wired, he would have to deal with that particular threat. Mack produced a small mirror and they slid it along the dirt, rounding the corner so they could see. Seated at a cheap table were two more terrorists. Frank Koit and a man he recognized from the many photographs they’d studied on Doomsday, Jarold Carlyle; two of the most wanted men in a number of countries. Their boss, Armstice, was nowhere to be seen. Drinks and a deck of playing cards sat near their hands. Although they were relaxed, slouched in their seats and obviously bored, Koit continually stroked his gun, a Luger 9mm Parabellum. His fingers lingered almost lovingly along the barrel. Kane and Mack exchanged a long look. Carlyle picked up the deck of cards and shuffled. Mack caught bits and pieces of the conversation. The two men were speaking rapidly in English, but Carlyle had a heavy accent. The words were punctuated with a great deal of laughter. They seemed to find it very amusing that a party was being held while right under the noses of the Americans they were holding hostages. The two terrorists took turns toasting the superpowers and snickering at the Marine guards.
“It won’t be long,” Koit said. “Another few hours to clear the grounds and get the guards settled down. We want the kids dying in front of the cameras. Blaine will call in the reporters and let us know right when to send them out. I think the little dinner party is only going to add to the condemnation. We should get paid more money.”
“You better hope Armstice keeps those kids alive.” Carlyle gave a worried glance down the narrowing corridor. “He’s a bloodthirsty son of a bitch.”
“I went to school with him,” Koit said. “I can’t tell you how many little old ladies’ cats and dogs he sliced up and left on doorsteps-until he graduated to killing the little old ladies.” He laughed at his own joke.
Mack watched Koit’s long fingers stroking the Luger. He nudged Kane. They’d have to shoot together. Both men were armed. All Koit had to do was lift the gun and fire. His hand was steady as he shot the dart into Koit’s neck. Koit slumped forward onto the table; the hand with the Luger slid in slow motion from his chair to the floor. Mack swore as the gun clattered against the chair frame. He sank into a crouch, the gun in his hand, sweeping the area down the tunnel, every cell alert. Kane took Carlyle at nearly the same instant. The man simply fell forward, the cards scattering across the table as he went limp. He moved forward while Mack covered him, removing the guns and securing the darts.
Jaimie skirted around the two downed terrorists, ignoring the fact that small beads of sweat had formed on Jacob’s forehead. She’d taken apart dummy bombs before. It wasn’t quite the same thing as working with the real deal.
Mack never called her “baby” during a mission. He was always very professional. She glanced at his face. He looked at her with worried eyes. She forced a smile.
As if she’d summoned the devil, energy rushed at her, forceful, ugly, extremely violent and evil. It punched through the shield Mack created around her, tearing at the fabric of her energy, shredding it. With it came fear. Pain. Terror. Rage. Both feminine and masculine and very young. She felt the victims, became entwined with them. She staggered under the assault and would have gone down, but Jacob caught her elbow and steadied her as she sagged against him. She felt him reach out to surround her with his strength and love. He shielded her without reserve, with the love of a brother-a teammate. With confidence in her ability to stand up to the assault.
She didn’t protest. If Kane was willing to risk his sight and go out of the tunnels blind, then she was courageous enough to push right into Armstice’s violent energy no matter what it did to her. She would give Kane the best chance possible. She didn’t wait. She rushed the energy, shoving deep, uncaring that it attacked, clawing and pulling her apart. She got a good silhouette of him, as well as a taste of evil that she knew would never quite leave her mind.
She sent the picture to Kane, paying particular attention to the head and neck. Armstice stood over the young male who had positioned his body as best he could between the terrorist and young Mi-cha. Armstice kicked him in the ribs repeatedly and then crouched down, pressing the tip of his blade just under Dae-sub’s eye. Jaimie’s stomach churned. She held her energy in place, although it fought her, wanting to curl away from the violence in the surroundings. It seemed forever, but she knew only a couple of seconds passed. Jacob kept his hand on her arm. Both Kane and Mack squeezed the triggers. The guard hit the ground hard. His gun rolled out of his hand. Armstice slumped forward, falling directly on the teenage boy as he lay on the ground, hands tied behind his back, unable to protect himself from the large body as it toppled over him.
Kane sank to one knee in the soft dirt, covering his eyes. Jaimie immediately took his place, gripping her weapon and following Mack into the lower region, deeper into the bowels of the earth. Dirt fell continuously, sliding with an ominous rumble, just small dusty trickles, but it was distracting and alarming. The walls tapered and crumbled as they neared the end of the corridor. Mack had to walk bent over, but she merely ducked her head a little.
Mack paused to retrieve the dart, pocket it, and then push the terrorist’s jacket open.
Mack kept the weapon in his hands and nodded to Jaimie. She caught the edges of the dirty blanket and ripped it down. Mack covered Armstice.
Water seeped through the walls and steadily dripped overhead. Everything smelled dank and moldy, mingling
