“Josh!” she yelled, nearly out of breath. “Josh! Peter sent us! We’re here. Where are you, Josh?”
There was no answer.
“Josh!”
Mara took one last look at the handheld computer’s GPS display, then slid it into her pocket in favor of the sat phone.
“Peter — some of us are wearing Chinese uniforms. Tell him it’s okay.”
“I’m trying to get him, Mara. He’s not answering.”
“Shit.” She kept the phone in her hand and yelled. “Josh! Come out! We need to get you the hell out of here
A line of rocks on Mara’s left ran up the side of the hill like exposed ribs. She began following them, moving slowly so she could see any possible hiding places.
The vegetation cleared. The ruins of old buildings were scattered around, ghosts from a not-too-distant past.
“Josh!” Mara yelled again.
Jimmy Choi, Moe, and Jeb came up behind her.
“Where is he?” said Jimmy. He wasn’t smiling anymore.
“He has to be nearby,” said Mara. “Maybe he saw our uniforms and panicked. Search the sides of the woods- I’ll take that lean-to or whatever the hell it is.”
A helicopter had begun circling above, moving around the hill.
Was it a trap? It had that smell.
There was a cave near the summit of the hill — no, a mine shaft.
Mara put her phone to her ear. “Peter? Did he go in the mine?”
“He didn’t say anything about a mine.”
“Are we in the right goddamn place?”
“Mara, I wouldn’t let you go to the wrong place. You’re about ten feet from where he was when he called — ten feet south of the exact spot.”
The exact spot was two or three steps from the entrance to the mine. He must’ve gone inside.
“Josh!”
Her voice echoed into the darkness. She took her LED key-chain light out of her pocket and held it up. The dim light didn’t shine very far into the shaft.
Jimmy Choi ran up outside. “The helicopter is going to land,” he told her. “Very bad news.”
“Don’t let it. I think our guy is in here. I’m going into the cave.”
“Ho-ho. You make us earn our money, lady. We see you at the truck.”
Jimmy’s laugh stayed with her as she stepped forward into the darkness.
“Let’s go!” he yelled over the roar of the rotors, swinging out. Feet in place, he began to slide downward.
Something passed overhead, a bird flashing with incredible speed.
Jing Yo’s instincts took over, and though still a few meters from the ground, he released his grip on the line. The rope snapped at him, angry. The sky howled, an angry wind erupting as he fell.
Jing Yo spread his arms, relaxing his muscles as his feet hit the ground. He rolled forward, hitting the ground far harder than he would have under ordinary circumstances, but not so hard that he was in danger of breaking any bones. He rolled forward, falling as he had fallen many times before, swirling upward as he had been trained to do, balanced, perfectly balanced — everything was a matter of balance.
The air exploded. Jing Yo was pushed to the ground. He struggled to get back up, to understand what had happened.
The helicopter was down. The jungle was on fire.
A set of iron rails ran down the center of the tunnel, but the side where they were walking was smooth. There were hooks in the wall from an old rope guide. Josh started counting them as he went, hoping to use them as a rough gauge when he came back.
He heard his name echoing through the tunnel, distorted by the walls.
It had been a clever trick all along. The Chinese had thought of everything.
M? halted. Josh pushed her lightly, then stumbled against her, twisting downward and slipping down against the wall.
They’d come to a barrier. Wooden slats were posted sideways across the passage, cutting it off.
Josh scrambled to his feet and ran his hands along the boards, top to bottom, trying to find an opening. M? moved with him, clinging to his leg, as he worked left.
The path was completely cut off. Josh reached his hands back and forth, then started along the other wall, hoping for an opening.
“Josh!” came the call behind him. They were closing in.
He still had the gun. It was the only way now.
He dropped to his knee, raising the rifle. But then he got another idea — perhaps he could use the barrel as a crowbar, prying off enough of the boards to at least send M? through.
He got up and began feeling for a slit big enough to stick the barrel in. M? tugged at his pants leg.
“It’s okay,” he told her.
The sound of someone coming for him grew louder. He chose one of the narrow spaces between the boards and pushed the tip of the barrel against it. The gun slipped from the tiny hole, nearly falling out of his grip.
“Josh,” said M?, tugging.
He turned and saw a faint bluish light glimmering in the tunnel. It was above his head; he hadn’t realized how sloped the tunnel was.
“All right,” he said, getting down on his knee again. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I thought we would be safe here.”
He tucked her behind him and got ready. There was nothing else to do now. Offering his life in exchange for the girl’s was worthless; they’d just kill her after they shot him.
How many were after him? If it was only a couple, he could fire, grab their guns and ammo, maybe make it out of the tunnel.
That was what he was going to do.
“Josh? Are you in here?” said the voice.
It was a woman. She was a decent English speaker, too. The Chinese really had prepared very well.
“Peter sent me. I’m going to get you out of here, but we have to hurry — there are Chinese troops nearby. They have helicopters. Come on, Josh. We have to leave now.”
“Oh, you’re damn good,” muttered Josh.
“It’s not a trick.”
The light stopped moving.
“Josh — I know you don’t trust anybody, but I’m not with the Chinese. I’m an American. I want to get you out. You have important information, don’t you? You can tell the UN — the world.”
Josh felt his finger cramp against the trigger. The blue light was faint; they must be far away. If he fired
