Jemma cracked her own flashlight and led the way, also pulling a small handgun out of her pocket. Bodie had his own weapon, an old Sig, that he’d purchased with the others from their tour guide back in Algiers where they’d initially landed. Unfortunately, the gun had come with only one spare magazine.
The tunnel ran straight for a while, and then declined. Bodie had read up on this place on their way here, and knew that it held ancient cave paintings under what was construed to be a burial ground. The theory was that the cave paintings marked the bedrock of the earth.
Ahead, Bodie saw a fork in the tunnel. Until this point they’d heard no other sounds, but now the faint whir of a drill reached their ears. When that stopped, the silence returned.
Jemma stopped at the fork and looked over her shoulder. “Right or left?”
“You choose.”
Jemma went left. The tunnel narrowed, jagged edges closing in. The floor was smooth, almost glassily so. Bodie had to grab the walls for extra support to keep from slipping. Jemma appeared as light on her feet as ever.
“Not much fur—”
Jemma’s whisper broke off. She came to such a sudden stop, Bodie almost ran into her. But instantly, he saw why. There was a hole in the wall to their right, a hole that looked through to the other tunnel.
And in that tunnel, a guard was standing, a Hood holding a machine gun and a machete.
Jemma turned to Bodie. “I’ll let you handle this one.”
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Using every scrap of skill and experience he possessed, Bodie dropped low and crept past the hole in the wall, checking every step for loose shale that might make a noise, suppressing every breath, making sure his shadow or shape didn’t catch the guard’s eye.
Jemma followed, gun drawn, but using it had to be a last resort.
Bodie stopped and crouched, level with the guard. All that separated them was a large, ragged hole. Bodie didn’t congratulate himself that he’d managed to slip right up to one of the Illuminati’s foot soldiers, he worried about what had to happen next.
Yes, they could continue down this passage, but it was clearly the wrong way. They could wait and grab their ore after the Illuminati had left, but who knew what tricks they might have up their sleeve? They might even seal the cave behind them with Bodie and Jemma inside.
The Hood looked straight at him. It was as if the guy sensed Bodie’s eyes on him. It also felt as if the guy didn’t really believe his own power of observation, because he froze in surprise when he saw Bodie.
The Englishman sprang, clearing the hole and landing on the Hood’s chest, driving him backward. The man staggered and hit the far wall, his head bouncing off rock. Bodie landed on his knees but threw two punches at the guy’s ribs, bending him double. A gun fell from grasping fingers.
Bodie swung his own head upward, catching the Hood under the chin with a powerful strike. The man collapsed, but still moved, still held on to consciousness. Bodie wished once more that he’d learned to fight properly. He didn’t want to kill this guy, just incapacitate him for half an hour. But every second that passed gave him chance to yell out a warning.
The Hood struck back, but the blows were ineffectual. He was close to being out cold.
Bodie scrambled up and delivered two more blows, both to the head. The Hood dodged one, causing Bodie’s fist to scrape rock. The pain was so sharp he almost cried out.
The other caught the Hood fully on the side of the jaw. It was enough. The man collapsed, head bouncing off the floor.
Bodie knelt for a full minute to catch his breath and then motioned to Jemma. “Grab his legs.”
Together, they pulled and pushed him through the hole in the wall. They had no ties and no gags, but Bodie didn’t want to leave him bound and gagged down here anyway. If his colleagues forgot about him, it would be a horrible death.
Jemma scooped up the Hood’s gun to keep as a spare. Together they crept down the new tunnel, Bodie trying to control his breathing. It wasn’t long before they heard faint voices.
“It should be enough,” a man speculated.
“A little more,” someone else said. “We are better taking too much than too little.”
“You don’t want to come back here, Matthew?” a voice laughed.
“I have seen enough sand for a lifetime,” Matthew admitted. “Just grab a little more.”
Bodie sank low, Jemma at his side. Far ahead, lights flickered, faint beams sweeping the walls and roof. Bodie leaned in close to Jemma’s ear.
“We can’t get past them. And there’s at least two. We could surprise them.” He raised his gun.
“I don’t want to kill in cold blood,” Jemma said.
“Neither do I.” Bodie cast around for an alternative plan. As he deliberated, the noisy drill started up again, but this time only for a few seconds.
“The good thing,” Jemma whispered, “is that they’ve already exposed the ore. Grabbing a sample shouldn’t take too long.”
It was a fair point. Extracting the ore would take a matter of seconds, maybe a minute. Their decision was made for them when the Hoods packed up and started back along the
