Elna saw sparks on the wall to her right—the soldiers were returning fire. She moved farther behind the door, tried to reposition the gun, and continued to fire until the magazine was empty. The flashlight was on the ground near the left wall, pointing into the corner so that most of the room was caught in the backwash. Long shadows were drawn toward the hatch, and she saw soldiers scrambling into the shadows. The wine rack she’d placed against the pillars was toppled over, and the hatch was shut.
This was a bad idea, she thought.
Malin was reloading his pistol. Apparently, he had another loaded magazine in his shirt pocket, but he seemed nervous, shaking, and he struggled to swap it with the empty magazine in the gun. In the process, he dropped his pistol. Elna bent down and grabbed it. When she rose, she saw a figure step out from behind the near wall, filling the gap in the half-opened door. He was huge, a beast in black, made all the more imposing by the nimbus of white light around him. He had a huge, blunt face, like a cinder block, and he reeked of wine and body odor.
“You can’t shoot worth a damn,” he said, raising a rifle at them. “But I can.”
Acting on instinct more than anything, Elna dropped both of her weapons, grabbed the back of Malin’s shirt, and pulled him back behind the door. She dropped down, letting her weight drag him. But in that moment, as she slipped out of the light, she heard the deafening bang of the rifle. Malin rolled on top of her, clearly trying to shield her body with his own, but when she looked past his shoulder, she saw the drunk mercenary stumbling backward. He had a look of shock on his face, eyes and mouth wide, and he was clutching a spot high on his shoulder, close to his neck. Black blood poured through his fingers.
“Didn’t see that…one…” he managed to say.
Only then did Elna realize that someone had come up behind them on the landing. Fish. He stood there with a Beretta in his hand.
“Let’s go,” he shouted at Elna and Malin. “Shut the damn door.”
Elna rolled to one side, dumping Malin on the ground, and reached up to the door handle. Grabbing it, she proceeded to slide the door shut. It resisted at first, but she put her weight into it, and slowly it began to move. As it was sliding shut, she heard another shot and another, but she didn’t dare look. She kept pushing the door until it slid home, then she set the crude latch in place. After a moment, Malin’s flashlight clicked on.
“It won’t hold long,” she said. “Their commander knew the tunnel was down here. They would have found it soon enough. I had to try to buy us some time.”
I’m trying to justify my plan, she realized. Still, there was truth to it. Once they’d begun sliding the wine racks out of position, the mercs would have spotted the sliding door.
“I think we hit a few,” Malin said, rising up beside her. “Not sure.”
“I don’t think so,” Elna replied. “We’d better get below. That was a mess, Malin. A big, dumb mess.”
She picked up her pistol and holstered it, then she rose and turned to head back down the tunnel. Only then did she see Fish on the ground. It looked like someone had tipped him over, and he’d just pivoted backward like a fallen tree. He was on his back, his hands above his head. The look on his face seemed more surprised than anything.
“Fish, are you okay?” she said, moving toward him.
He reached down with his right hand, felt the front of his shirt, and Elna noted a small hole in the green shirt. It was just below his sternum, not yet bleeding.
“He got me,” Fish said, breathless.
“We’d better get you to Dr. Ruzka,” Elna said. “Are the charges set?”
“I can’t feel anything,” he replied, tapping his lower chest. “From here down. Nothing. It’s all gone.”
Malin came up on the other side of him, grabbing the Marine under the armpit. “Let’s get him down the stairs. Hurry, before they figure out a way to get through the door.”
Elna grabbed Fish by the other arm, and they dragged him down the steps toward the second door. As they did, Elna felt wetness on the ground. His body slid just a little too easily. She looked back and saw an enormous puddle of blood and drags marks from his body. They got him through the second door, and Malin turned the handle to lock it.
“Fish, you’ve got to hang in there,” Elna said.
“It doesn’t hurt,” he replied, in what sounded like a sleepy voice. “Man, it hardly feels like anything at all.”
Elna looked down the many steps toward the tunnel. It was such a long way to go. If only the doctor had been there. Maybe she would have been able to stop the bleeding. Maybe. Elna felt awful, so awful, it was almost paralyzing. She saw Selene and her father at the bottom of the steps, and she waved them on.
“Just keep going,” she said. “Please. Hurry back to the bunker!”
“Hey. Hey.” Fish was speaking softly. He grabbed her hand and pulled it away from his arm.
“Tell us what to do, Fish,” she said. “How can we help you?”
He seemed remarkably calm. The look of surprise had left his face, and he was almost smiling now.
“You can’t help me,” he said. “Sit me up, please. Prop me against the wall. Do it.”
Elna and Malin helped him into a seated position. He winced and groaned, the only indication
