Eyeing the muzzle, Ben slammed flat, covering his head.
Her hands clutched her gun, stone-steady. Over the hump of Ben's back, she spotted the eye within her sights, then pulled the trigger, the blast deafening within the tunnel.
An echoing screech of pain instantly followed. Within a moment, Ben was rolling toward her again. Before she could react, his mouth was against hers. Their lips crushed together. He suddenly withdrew as if shocked himself. She blinked at him, her mouth still slightly parted.
'Damn,' he said.
'Ouch!' Ben shifted his hips beneath her. 'You're crushing me.'
Riding on Ben's back, she felt his muscles flexing beneath her as he drove their sled forward. Emotions warred within her: giddy relief at their close escape, trepidation for what lay ahead, and a rising lust for the man beneath her. 'Sorry,' she said, scooting farther back, resting her head on his left shoulder, her hands at his waist. The heat from his body was like that of a furnace, steady and hot. She closed her eyes, allowing her cheek to brush against the nape of his neck.
Ben said, 'I see lights up ahead.'
She raised her chin to look forward. 'It's the others. I told them to stay in the tunnel.'
They slid forward. Michaelson was last in line. He contorted his large bulk in the shaft as he turned toward them. He had a look of genuine relief on his face that was oddly touching.
'Jesus Christ,' Michaelson said. 'You had us worried. First that scream and gunfire, then your empty sled slides down.'
'We decided to carpool.' Ben smiled. 'Saves gas and is good for the environment.'
Ashley pinched his waist, eliciting a pained expression from him. She craned her neck to look over Michaelson's head. 'How's Villanueva?'
'Groggy still, but stable. Breathing evenly now. Strong pulse.'
'Good. Then let's pause here. Try to contact Alpha Base. Can you reach the radio?'
Michaelson nodded. 'I already tried.'
'And?'
'Only static.'
She wrinkled her brow. If they couldn't contact someone, get some help… 'Maybe we're too confined here. All this rock.'
'No, it shouldn't make any difference. Down here, we're always surrounded by rock.'
'Then what's the matter? Is the radio damaged?'
'No, it checked out fine, and the communications center at the base is staffed around the clock. For them not to have responded…' His words stumbled to a stop.
'What?'
'Something damned serious must be going down.'
SIXTEEN
'RUN,' BLAKELY SAID, PUSHING JASON FROM BEHIND.
'To my office.'
'But-'
'Hurry!'
Blakely raced for his office, passing the boy and dragging him by the arm. Thankfully, Jason, still shocked by the commotion, allowed himself to be towed.
Sirens wailed in Blakely's ears, making it difficult to think. Men and women raced about them. A thousand floodlights swung in wild arcs across the rooftop. From the sounds of gunfire, the assault was striking the base periphery from all sides.
Blakely pounded up the steps of the administration building. Jason stumbled after him, his gym bag strap tangling around his feet. Once through the door and down the hall, they burst into Blakely's private office.
Roland was stuffing papers into a briefcase by the handful. He didn't look up as he spoke. 'I heard. Almost ready.'
'Good. Make sure you get the research documents in my desk drawer too. Those military assholes might take my base, but I'll be damned if they're going to get my work.'
'Why the alarms?' Roland asked. 'What's going on?'
He ran a hand through his thinning hair. 'It's a full base alert. I have a feeling-'
A huge explosion rocked the building. Jason hugged his gym bag tighter to his chest. Tears started to well.
Roland began shoving papers faster. 'That sounded like the munitions dump on the south side.'
Blakely nodded. 'Leave the rest. We evacuate now.'
He opened a drawer and pulled out a.45 Colt automatic. He checked to make sure it was loaded and handed it to Roland along with a spare clip. 'Take it.'
Roland looked as if he had just been offered a venomous snake. He shook his head.
Another explosion caused the building to shake and ceiling dust to sift downward.
Roland snatched the pistol.
With a tiny key, Blakely opened a locked drawer and pulled out a sawed-off shotgun. He cracked it open; two red shells sat in the firing chamber. He snapped it closed.
Turning, he stumbled into Jason. Their collision loosened the boy's quaking control. 'My… mom…,' he sobbed between tearful breaths.
Blakely knelt and held the boy's shoulders. 'Jason, I need you to be strong right now. We're going to make a run for the elevator. Try to get you topside.'
Machine gun fire rattled from only a handful of yards away.
'Time to go,' Roland said, holding the briefcase in one hand and the Colt in his other. 'Out the back way. It's a shorter route to the elevator.'
'Good,' Blakely said, standing and keeping one hand on the boy's shoulder. 'Lead the way. I'll cover the back.'
Roland swung around and headed out the door. They followed on his heels, Blakely clutching the shotgun with both hands.
Outside, the sirens had cut off, but islands of gunfire flared around them. Armed men ran in every direction. Two men running with a stretcher darted past them toward the small hospital, a draped figure writhing on the canvas.
A bloody arm slipped free of the sheet, and fingers dragged on the ground.
Blakely searched around the milling men. He needed information. A wild-eyed private backed around a corner into their group. His helmet was gone, and his gun shook in his hand. Blakely recognized the red hair, the freckles.
'Private Johnson,' Blakely said, pushing as much authority into his voice as possible. 'Give me a report.'
Johnson swung around, a look of panic frozen on his face. Blood dribbled from a wound on his forehead. He stumbled back to some semblance of military decorum, coming to shaky attention. 'Sir, the base has been breached. They came from everywhere. Popping out of holes, pouring out of tunnels. My… my platoon was overrun. Wiped out.' As he reported, his eyes became wider and more glazed, and his shivering worsened.
'Who, Private? Who's attacking?'
With a wildness in his eyes, Johnson blurted, 'They… they're coming this way. We have to get out of here.'
'Who?' Blakely tried to grip the man's shoulder, but the private whirled from reach, afraid to be touched, then darted away.
Roland stepped next to Blakely. 'The elevator's south of us. If it's been lost, then…'
'It's the only way out of here,' Blakely mumbled. 'We'll have to try and avoid the worst of the fighting.'
Roland nodded. Jason stuck close to the aide's side.
