by Cindy Dees
She walked forward, her hands out in front of her. Canvas. She moved around the tarp-covered crates. She tripped over a pile of what felt like packing material—long, wooden shavings and flat, rough planks like the pieces of crates. She kept going. The noises in the hall outside faded.
She hissed in pain as her shin connected painfully with something sharp. She felt for the obstacle. Some sort of electronic switchboard with a smooth, metal surface curving away to the left of it.
Could it be?
She risked another match. And stared in shock at the sight which illuminated before her. The bombs. Three of them, lined up side by side. She’d found them. Son of a gun. Not in their wildest dreams had Brian or the Medusas expected this windfall. But she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. The match burned out and she put its remains in her pocket. She thought fast.
If she’d moved far enough away from Freddie, jets would be streaking toward this position. Would she and the bombs be safe, or would these weapons be damaged in the blast? There was no danger of them detonating—nuclear bombs were actually far too stable for that. But, if the containment chambers were breached, they could release a whole lot of radiation. Certainly a fatal amount for anyone standing this close to them.
She needed to get away from the weapons.
But…
She also had an opportunity to sabotage them. To keep Freddie from using them to harm anyone. She weighed her choice. If she and the bombs were inside the blast radius, radiation would be the least of her problems. If they were out of the main blast radius, she’d be okay regardless.
What would Brian do?
No doubt about it. He’d stick around and disable the weapons. He was that kind of guy. And it was why she loved him. How could she do any less herself?
Brian all but fainted in relief when Vanessa’s voice crackled across his earpiece. “We’ve got movement. Sollem has moved—quickly—away from Sophie’s position, and she’s on the move in the opposite direction.”
“Far enough apart?” Brian asked.
“Not yet.”
Jack murmured, “Something’s going on at the compound. The lights have all gone out. What do you have on satellite imagery, Viper?”
Vanessa answered, “Standby one.” A pause, then, “Men are running around like chickens with their heads cut off. They’re acting like they know y’all are coming.”
Brian frowned. How was that possible? This team was highly trained in stealth techniques, and there’d been no slipups that could’ve given away their position to Sollem’s men.
Jack asked, “What if Sophie has knocked out the power and caused a panic inside? Would she know to do something like that?”
Brian replied without hesitation. “Absolutely.”
Jack asked, “Does it look like Freddie has come up out of the bunker?”
“Not yet. He’s near where we marked the staircase down to the lower level, but it doesn’t look like he’s gone up the stairs.”
“Cautious bastard,” Brian growled.
Jack grinned over at him wolfishly. “What say we add to the chaos a bit and see if we can coax our boy out?”
Brian nodded. Oh, yeah. He was so ready to start killing.
Feeling around the edges of the targeting computer in the dark, Sophie looked for the latches that held it in place. She hadn’t been paying much attention the day Brian showed her the schematics of tactical nuclear bombs, in addition to a dozen other high-tech weapons. But she recalled the whole targeting computer, essentially a laptop minus the screen, should lift off.
She found what felt like a latch. Pried at it with her fingers. Broke a nail. Swore under her breath. She pulled out the knife and pried up the latch. It released with a metallic click. She tried to lift the computer. It felt like at least three more locking points held it down. The other locks were easy to find—one opposite the first lock and two more centered on the other sides of the device. She lifted the computer away from the bomb. Quickly, she shrugged off her robe and wrapped the device in the fabric. Setting the whole bundle on the floor, she gave it a hard stomp with her foot. Muffled crunching sounds came from the device. She gave it several more hard stomps. Unwrapping the robe, she inspected the bent and broken results of her efforts by feel. Perfect.
She’d been out of her prison cell for about twenty minutes. If she was far enough from Freddie, the air attack should hit any minute. Until then, she might as well occupy herself with destroying the targeting systems of the bombs. She didn’t know enough to attempt to wreck the bombs themselves. Besides, from what she vaguely recalled, nuclear weapons were sealed in metal casings that would take a welding torch even to think about breaking through.
She finished the second bomb and had just moved on to the third when noise erupted in the hallway again. A lot of it. Men shouting back and forth. She froze, crouching behind the bomb, listening to their shouts. Damn. They were conducting some sort of search. Must’ve discovered she was missing. C’mon, air strike. Hit already.
The overhead lights flickered and burst on, blinding her, and she squinted hard into the sudden light. Dang. Power had been restored. She was near the back of a very large room with crates piled all over the room. Labels announced everything from canned fruits to rocket-propelled grenades. The compound’s warehouse.
As she got her first good look at the bombs, she was startled by how large they were. Fat and ungainly looking, she frowned at them. How had Freddie’s men gotten these things down that teeny little stairway she’d come down? And those crates over there. No way would they fit down the stairs. There had to be another exit. She looked around for it. In the back wall behind her, a large, dark shadow might conceal some sort of tunnel.
“Don’t bother,” a male voice said coldly behind her.
She whirled, violently startled.
Freddie. Pointing a very large, very lethal-looking pistol at her.
Busted.
She only barely managed to maintain her feet as sick fear rolled over her. She was so nauseous she could barely stand. She wouldn’t get to tell Brian she loved him.
Somewhere in the back of her head, a little voice started to scream. And kept on screaming.
His eyes glittered snake-like, in cold rage. “You little bitch. The Americans sent you in to sabotage my operation, didn’t they? I knew you were lying!” He advanced menacingly.
Frantically, she looked down at the electronic keyboard in front of her. She pressed a bunch of buttons randomly. The screen lit up and several beeping noises emanated from it.
“Stop right there, Freddie. I’ll blow this thing up.”
He laughed. But he stopped advancing. “You don’t know how to detonate that.”
She laughed back scornfully. “These things are designed for American Army grunts, remember? They’re so simple a monkey could operate them.”
A hint of doubt flickered across his face.
She glanced down again. She remembered that the detonation switches on several of the weapons Brian had briefed her on were covered by a red flap of some kind. She spied one of those now. She reached over and flipped up the switch cover.
“You’ll die,” Freddie bit out.
“So will you.”
“You won’t kill yourself to stop me. You don’t have that kind of moral spine.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Don’t I? Are you so sure of that? I had enough spine to waltz in here all by myself to find you.”
Definite alarm crossed his face at that. But then resolve replaced it. “Blow us both up, then. I’m ready to meet my god.”
“I’ll bet you are. In hate and fear and violence. You’ve murdered hundreds of innocents. Their blood is on your hands. It stains your soul, Freddie. Your Heaven is going to be a very hot place, I think.”
“I’ll take that chance,” he snarled. “But you won’t.” A message scrolled across a black panel on the targeting computer in red letters. System arming.
Holy cow.
Freddie snap
ped, “No American is willing to die for what they believe in.”
“Ahh, but there you’re wrong. Why do you think American soldiers volunteer to be in our army by the tens of thousands? We don’t force a single one of them into putting their life on the line for their country. They do it because they believe in what it means to be an American.”
“A few misguided souls may do it for patriotism. But mostly they do it for money. For jobs. I’ll grant you they may even do it for education.”
She shrugged. “I disagree. But even if you’re right, they still put on a uniform, lay their lives on the line, and die for that flag on their arm. It’s a chance they’re willing to take.”
“But you’re not a soldier. You’re a civilian. Just some woman playing at being God.”
She smiled coldly. “Unlike you, I harbor no such delusions.”
The computer blinked. System armed.
She reached down deliberately and put her finger on the red button. “So, Freddie, What’s it going to be? The bomb is armed and ready to go. You and I seem to have achieved a Mexican standoff. Shall we die together, or do I have your word that I walk out of here, unharmed?”
He made a noise somewhat akin to laughter, except it was hollow and furious. “You think you can defeat me? Me? The Sword of God? You can’t do it.”
She stared him square in the eye. “I can and I will. Unlike you, I have known a moment of perfect happiness in my life.”
And as the words left her mouth, she realized with shock that they were true. With Brian, she’d achieved something so rare and special that very few people were ever so blessed. She had to live. To tell him what she’d figured out when faced with her own death. She couldn’t let him go on, never knowing what an extraordinary gift he’d given her.
Except, Freddie had the gun and other ideas. There wasn’t the slightest doubt in her mind that he would never let her walk out of this room alive. Despair robbed her of breath and the scream at the back of her head rushed frighteningly close to the back of her throat. This couldn’t be happening to her. It was her worst nightmare, come horribly true. What to do?
Do what you have to, Brian’s voice whispered calmly. Understandingly.
And in that moment she understood Brian’s last and greatest gift to her. Courage. To face life head on and do what was necessary and right, no matter what the cost.
“You lie!” Freddie screamed. “You won’t do it!”
He leaped forward.
She looked up at him. Met his gaze.
Smiled.
And pushed the button.
Chapter 18
“We’ve got a problem gentlemen,” Vanessa’s voice announced in Brian’s ear. Crap. Now what? He lifted his finger away from the trigger of his weapon.
“What’s up?” he replied shortly.
“Sollem’s signal is almost on top of Sophie. I’d estimate they’re in the same room.”
How did he have any more adrenaline left to dump into his system like this? He felt faintly nauseous as his stress meter pegged out once more. He muttered, “Freddie’s probably questioning Sophie about what the hell’s going on, wondering if this is a full-blown American assault.”
“We’re running out of time. You’ve got to draw Sollem away from her and soon,” Vanessa bit out. “You are green-lighted for the attack. Go get ’em, gang.”
Brian took aim at the nearest guard on the east wall of the compound. His finger depressed the trigger of his weapon. The assault rifle kicked hard in his hands, and it felt good to be handling the weapon. The reaction to their barrage was impressive. Dozens of Sollem’s men popped up above the walls, firing wildly. What they lacked in accuracy they more than made up for in sheer volume of lead. Hell, there was no need for the American team to fire back. These guys were lighting up the night like an entire infantry division was incoming. If the explosion of noise alone didn’t draw Sollem outside, nothing would.
“Take cover!” Jack shouted over the radios.
Sophie looked down at the bomb. Nothing happened. Damn! Wait. Something had happened. A timer was counting down on the face, a few seconds below ten minutes.
Freddie laughed where he stood. “Nice try. But there’s a delay programmed into the bombs.”
No. No, no, no! He’d known all along she wasn’t capable of blowing them both up. In sheer frustration, she reversed her knife and brought the butt down violently on the keypad. Pieces of plastic scattered all over the place as she destroyed it.
She looked up grimly. “Yeah, but now you can’t disarm it. I broke the off button.”
Freddie’s eyes opened wide in rage. “You bitch!” he howled.
She dived for the ground, correctly anticipating that he’d raise his pistol and fire it at her. Metal clanged off the bomb casing.
She called out, “Are you sure you ought to be shooting at a live nuke, Freddie?” Her brain kicked into overdrive. Given his horrified reaction, he wasn’t planning to die tonight. Which meant he’d try to disarm this thing. Which might give her a window to attempt an escape. There had to be another way out of here. The only possibility was that dark niche in the far back corner. She could see all the other walls and they were solid rock.
He continued to fire wildly, screaming invectives in Bhoukari. She crawled on her belly for some crates beyond the bomb she’d just armed. Once she got behind them, she came up onto her hands and knees and moved away faster. Freddie’s weapon stopped firing. If she was incredibly lucky, in his tantrum he’d used up all his bullets and didn’t have another clip on hand.
“Come out, Sophie, and I won’t kill you.”
Yeah, right. She ignored the taunt and ducked into the shadow behind a decent-sized crate. She listened for movement. Feet scuffed on the floor. It sounded as if he was moving toward the ticking bomb.
He started swearing again. Something about how the hell to turn this thing off. It sounded as if he hit the targeting computer several times with something hard. Maybe the butt of his pistol. Running footsteps—away from her, thank God. A door opening. Freddie’s voice shouting out into the hallway for someone named Mahmoud.
Now was her chance to move.
She peeked out from behind the crate. Freddie’s back was to her. She darted across the last open space between her and that dark corner. The walls were crudely chiseled and rough outcroppings of rock overlapped, creating heavy shadows. Pulling her black garb close around her lest it snag on something, she eased forward.
Somebody shouted something at Freddie. She started. There was gunfire outside the compound. Brian. The Medusas must be creating a diversion for her. Bless them. Freddie shouted back, demanding Mahmoud again. She used the men’s argument to slide around a large outcropping.
Bingo. A broad tunnel was hidden behind it. The floor had been smoothed, but the walls were in their rough, natural state. She moved forward as quickly as she could without making any noise. Good Lord willing, Freddie would be occupied for the next few minutes trying to disarm the bomb. Small lightbulbs strung at long intervals provided enough light that, as soon as she got a few dozen yards from the storeroom she was able to take off running.
And run she did. Like the wind.
“She’s moving,” Vanessa announced tersely. “Away from Freddie.” Brian all but lost control of his bladder at the announcement.
“Where is she?” he retorted sharply.
“Moving east. She’s weaving like she’s dodging obstacles. But she’s coming fast. She’s running.”
Jack ordered quickly, “Everyone but Ripper shift position to the west wall. Let’s pull them over that way like we’re preparing to storm the gate. Rip, you hold position on the east wall. Lay down covering fire for her if necessary when she comes over the wall.”
“Roger,” Brian acknowledged.
Vanessa announced, “I’m calling in the air strike. I’ll make a radio call when the bombs are sixty seconds out for you to take cover. The planes are airborne, loitering just off shore, so in about ten min
utes, have a spot picked out.”
Brian glanced at his watch, then back at the wall. C’mon, Sophie. Run to me, baby.
Thank God for all those miserable runs on the beach Brian had subjected her to. The tunnel wasn’t steep, but went steadily uphill. In a few minutes, she was huffing like a winded racehorse. But then she thought about the possibility that Freddie had sent men up this tunnel after her. When that thought gave out at bringing her new energy, she thought of Brian waiting for her at the end of this tunnel.
Of course, she had no idea where this thing came out. For all she knew, she was going to pop up in the middle of Freddie’s bedroom. But once she was on the surface, she would at least stand a chance of making her way out of this nightmare. And she wouldn’t be buried alive in that damned bunker.
The problem with this tunnel was it was the only way out of that storeroom. Freddie’s flunkies would know exactly where to find her. All they had to do was chase her up this tunnel till they caught her. Or worse, send some guys to wherever it emerged and just wait for her at the exit.
Surely, the Medusas had called in the air strike by now. Unless Freddie himself was chasing her up this tunnel, which she seriously doubted, she had to have plenty of separation from him. To distract herself from her heaving breath and the knives stabbing her legs and sides, she considered whether or not the nuke behind her would blow up if the bunker busters hit it. If it did, the F-18 pilots were in for a hell of a surprise in their rearview mirrors when the mushroom cloud went up.
I’m coming, Brian.
As her oxygen stores depleted and her feet grew heavy, she remembered that first run he’d taken her on—the two-mile run that had turned into four miles. He’d said she could run ten more miles if she really had to. She’d made it all the way back down the beach that day. She could keep going now. Yes, she felt like crap, but this was her life. Her and Brian’s future. Kids and old age and years of going to sleep and waking up in Brian’s arms.
She dug deep. Accepted the pain. And kept on going.