“They’ll move on eventually,” she said. “Until then, we hide.”
23
The Beretta M9 was a nice, sturdy handgun. Malin liked the feel of it in his hand, and he practiced drawing it from the holster a few times. Staff Sergeant Prig had given it to him for his rescue mission.
“We’ll keep an eye on you from the surveillance room,” Cat said. The Marine was leaning against the doorframe between the game room and the hallway, the waist of her sweatpants hanging down so that the bandage on her hip was visible. “Staff sergeant says it fine. Doc wants me in bed, but I’ll keep ignoring her.”
All of the other Marines were elsewhere in the bunker, but they’d provided some extra loaded magazines for the handguns. Malin picked one up and shoved it in his shirt pocket. Elna was tracing passageways on the map with her finger, apparently trying to approximate the rooms in the guesthouse in relation to the underground corridor.
Footsteps in the hallway drew Malin’s attention as people began slipping past Cat to enter the room. He saw Prig, Fish, and Dr. Ruzka. Prig approached the table.
“Okay, let’s coordinate,” he said. “The next hour or so is going to be chaos, so we need to make sure every person has a role and knows exactly what they’re supposed to be doing.”
“Malin and I are going through the corridor into the wine cellar,” Elna said. “I have no idea if George and Selene are in the guesthouse, no idea where they might be hiding, and no idea if we can get to them. The building might be swarming with mercs.”
“Don’t engage unless you absolutely have to,” Prig said. “You’re out of your league here. Got it?”
“I want to go,” Dr. Ruzka said suddenly, approaching the table. “Someone’s liable to get seriously injured, especially if there’s a gunfight. They’ll need immediate treatment. It’s the reason the military takes medics onto the battlefield.”
“Sorry, Doc,” Prig said. “That’s a risk none of us can afford. You’re looking after Ant.”
“Selene would want you to stay here and care for the injured,” Elna noted, sliding her Beretta M9 into its holster.
“But…just two people against a dozen mercenaries?” the doctor said.
“We’re not taking on the whole force,” Malin pointed out, practicing drawing the gun one last time. “We’re trying to slip in unnoticed, find our people, and get out of there. The fewer people, the better.” He nodded at Elna. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Okay.”
“Fish will accompany you down the corridor,” Prig said. He snapped his fingers, and Fish pushed into the room. He had a small pack slung over one shoulder. “He’s going to set the charges behind you. We can’t afford to let the mercs down here, so we’ll have to bring it all down immediately if there’s any chance they’re alerted to this entrance. Sorry, that’s just the way it is.”
“I get it,” Elna said. She started across the room. “Do what you have to do.”
Raymond was in the corner with Danny, Chloe, and Miriam. The boy was helping the little girl color a page in a coloring book as Sniffy curled up beside them. When Malin passed the group, Raymond tipped his head at him, which Malin returned.
Fish caught up to them just as they passed through the small door in the corridor. He clicked on a flashlight and passed it to Malin, who took it and aimed it toward the end of the passageway.
“Just remember, you guys have to hurry,” Fish said. As he spoke, he stopped, reached into his pack, and produced what Malin knew to be a small rectangular explosive pack, along with a roll of duct tape.
“Do you think there’s any chance those explosives will bring down parts of the island, like the vineyard or guesthouse?” Malin asked Elna, as they moved away from him.
“I’m trying not to think about it,” Elna replied, resting her hand on her pistol, “because there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”
“I’m not setting charges directly beneath any buildings,” Fish said. “They’ll be concentrated around the middle of the corridor. Just enough to bring the roof and walls down there and block the passage. Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”
He stopped suddenly and reached up, placing the rectangular charge high against the wall and taping it in place.
“How long do we have to get back here?” Malin asked.
“Well, it’ll take time to get the charges set up, linked, and prepped,” he said. “I can’t wait long, though, so hurry it up. Ten, fifteen minutes.” He waved them on.
Elna and Malin picked up their pace, jogging down the hall, dodging the empty crates and scattered debris along the way. Finally, they reached the door far at the end. Fish was so far away now they could barely see him. Malin handed the flashlight to Elna and grabbed the handle of the door. As he tried to turn it, it resisted, as before. He grabbed the handle with both hands and put his back into it, and slowly, creaking loud enough to wake the dead, it turned.
When he pulled the door open, he heard desperate, furtive movements somewhere ahead of him, as if startled animals were scurrying about. Beyond the door, a set of stairs led up to a small landing. Elna started up the stairs, clamping the flashlight between her teeth as she drew her pistol.
People. They were hearing people up there. Someone had heard the opening of the door and was scrambling to get into hiding. Malin drew his handgun and followed Elna up the steps. He wanted to tell her to turn off the flashlight, but that would plunge them into complete darkness. Instead, he took the flashlight from her mouth and aimed the light at his feet.
As he approached the top step, Malin crouched down and thrust the handgun out in front of
