Khalid lowered his head. 'Linda, let me explain. He's twisting it all around. I'm not some Arab terrorist. He's letting his prejudice delude him.'
'Khalid…?' She took a single step toward him, now only a few feet between them.
'Watch out!'
Villanueva's words were too slow. Much slower than the sudden speed of Khalid's leap. He was upon her before she could gasp. He held her in a tight hug. One hand reached down and freed the gun from her trapped hand.
'I'm sorry,' he whispered in her ear. 'It wasn't supposed to be like this.' With the gun in his hand, he released her.
She stumbled a few steps away, tears pooling in her eyes.
He pointed the gun at Villanueva.
'So now what, Khalid?' he said with a sneer. 'How do you think you're gonna get out of here?'
'By lightening the load.' He pulled the trigger twice. Villanueva's head bounced back, two small holes appearing in his forehead. His body slumped to the floor.
Linda screamed. Covering her face, she dropped to her knees, sobbing, expecting at any moment to feel bullets ripping into her too.
A hand touched her shoulder. No words.
She cringed from his touch and continued crying. The hand did not try to touch her again. Eventually her wracking cries dissolved to a simple flow of tears. She glanced up.
Khalid sat on his haunches, hanging his head. The gun still rested in his hand, as comfortable and easy as a pen. He must have noticed her look.
She sniffed. 'Why?'
His words were dry, unemotional. 'I was assigned this mission.' Khalid shifted to face her. 'Blakely was naive. News of his discovery of a huge diamond statue reached many ears. A South African diamond cartel approached my employer. If the source of such huge diamonds were ever discovered, it would destroy the diamond market. Current prices would plummet. I was assigned to find the source of the diamonds, then sabotage the site. Explode the entire system.'
She lowered her head. 'All those deaths just for money.'
He reached over and tipped her face toward him, his fingertips warm from the hot gun. 'No,' he said. 'I accepted this assignment from the South Africans for another reason too. One closer to my heart. Like the diamond market, if this continent should open up as a major oil competitor, it could devastate the Middle East economy. Oil is my country's lifeblood. Before oil, my country was poor. No education, no health care, no way out of the sand. I will not see that happen again. Not after so much progress.' A flash of pain in his eyes. 'I care for my country as much as you do yours. Would you kill to save your country?'
Unsure herself, she did not answer, only turned her face away.
Releasing his grip on her chin, he stood up. 'I need to head back up. Complete my mission.' He walked to Villanueva's body. 'He had to be killed. His knowledge was a threat to my mission. But… you… I need. Another pair of eyes, another pair of hands. It's a long journey back up.'
She allowed herself a moment of hope.
'I have my mission and won't fail,' he said. 'You could stay here… or you can come with me. But you must understand. If you come along and betray my secret, then I will be forced to kill again.' He held a hand out to her. 'Can I trust you?'
Linda stared at his calloused palm. To go with him, he might turn on her as swiftly as he had turned on Villanueva. But to stay alone down here, unarmed, meant certain death.
Wrapping her arms around her body, Linda ignored his hand and made a decision. 'I'll go with you.'
Thank God, Michaelson thought, as Ben stopped in front of him. He steadied himself with a hand on the Aussie's shoulder, the crude splint on his ankle biting into his calf. The half-assed contraption had been hurriedly slapped on his leg after climbing back to the nest area. Walking was possible, but slow and wobbly. Michaelson winced when he saw how far they still had to go to reach the nursery's exit.
'Did you hear something?' Ben asked, his head cocked to the side.
Ashley shook her head. Michaelson listened.
From several yards behind, the infant marsupial predators hissed at the group, tiny crests twitching up and down. Their protests had become less strident as they became aware that the group was leaving the nest. Still the tunnel was some distance away, a black slash in the wall.
'No,' Michaelson said. 'Nothing. Sounds clear.'
Ben nodded, using a finger to clear an ear. 'I could have sworn…' He proceeded forward.
Michaelson followed, his steps clumsy on his bad ankle.
Ashley stepped up beside him. 'How are you holding up?'
'Fine, but I still think you should proceed without me. I'm holding you up.'
She frowned. 'It's best if we go slowly anyway. No telling what lies ahead.'
Resigned, he tromped after Ben, keeping an eye on the tunnel entrance. A goal. He began counting his steps, each odd numeral painful as he hopped his weight on his splinted ankle.
On his thirty-third step, he finally reached the opening. He leaned on the wall of the tunnel, perspiration soaking his forehead. A stitch of pain had started throbbing on his right side. Damn it, must have cracked a rib too, he thought, rubbing a hand over his side.
Ben stepped up to him. He had reconnoitered the passage ahead while waiting for Michaelson to hobble up. He glanced at where Michaelson rubbed and raised an eyebrow, but thankfully didn't ask any questions. It was already embarrassing enough to have the Aussie pull his butt out of the fire when that enraged creature had caught him up. If it wasn't for Ben's foolish stunt, he would have been dead by now.
He dropped his hand from his side. 'What did you find?'
'It's a bloody maze down there. Passages crisscrossing every which way. Some lighted by fungus, some clear. We need to be careful.'
'At least we have plenty of escape routes.'
'Yeah, but which passage gets us out of here?'
'There's only one way to find out.' Suppressing a wince, he pointed down the tunnel. 'After you.'
Ben flashed his light forward and entered the tunnel. After several yards of careful progress, Michaelson realized Ben's description of the passages ahead was an un- derstatement. The first intersection had five rocky passages sprouting in all directions.
'Now which way?' Ben asked, his question directed at Ashley.
Michaelson hopped forward, irritated that Ben should exclude him from the decision-making process. Even if he was an invalid, he was still the senior military presence here. Their safety was still his primary responsibility.
Ashley pointed to each of the tunnels with a beam of light. She settled her light on one of the passages. 'This passage seems to be heading up. And it has some of that glowing mold on the wall.'
Michaelson peered down the tunnel selected. He made a noncommittal grunt.
Ashley looked at him. 'The mold will allow us to conserve batteries. We still don't know how far we have to travel before we find our way out of this hellhole, so we better think conservation. Try to stick to lighted passage-ways as much as possible. Besides, the more light around us, the safer I feel.'
Michaelson nodded. As much as it grated on him, her assessment of the situation was sound. He couldn't have planned any better. 'Let's go, then,' he said.
Ben took the point again. He turned his light to a weak diffuse setting, just enough to highlight some of the blacker nooks and crannies. Otherwise, the thickening mold added sufficient glow to see by. Ben waved them to turn off their lights, including their helmet lamps.
Michaelson followed Ben. Ashley covered their rear, pistol in hand. Michaelson ground his molars, both from the pain and his frustration with his physical shape. He should be guarding their retreat or sweeping ahead for dangers. Not sandwiched in the middle like some sheltered mama's boy.
Still, he couldn't argue with the order of their procession. Ben had already skipped several yards ahead while Michaelson hobbled to keep up. Glancing behind him, balanced on his good foot, he watched Ashley check the passage behind her. She swung forward and caught him staring at her. She smiled weakly at him, almost like she
