by N Williams
Zac pulled Sally away from the big machine. ‘We’d better get back. No telling what he'll do with that thing.’
The first few attempts to raise the arm were far from successful, with it crashing down onto the slab before finally rising slowly into the air. The chain became taut as puffs of dust from between the joints of the slabs were whisked away by the light breeze.
The slab creaked and groaned as it finally broke the seal of decades and lifted clear. Gates swung the slab away from the hole and lowered it onto the ground nearby.
Zac fished a flashlight from the boot of the car and stood on the edge of the hole as Gates dropped down from the cab of the digger.
Sally peered over the edge as Zac shone the light into the opening. A flight of stone steps led down from his left towards a stone archway at the far end. A large puddle of water filled a culvert running parallel to the steps, clearly dug as a drainage route for rainwater.
‘Steps! So this must have been used at some time in the past,’ said Sally.
‘By the look of it, they lead in the direction of the castle,’ agreed Zac. The castle was about half a mile away as the crow flies but was deep in the valley below the village. ‘But if this passage leads to the castle then we'll have a hell of a long way to descend. It doesn't look like it goes down that far.’
‘There's only one way to find out,’ said Gates, as he tapped Zac on the shoulder. ‘Let’s go take a look.’
Sally looked incredulous. ‘You can't be serious? This thing obviously hasn't been used for years. God only knows what's down there. We can't go down there like this. We'd need helmets and proper lights.’
Zac smiled and walked back to the car. ‘Like these, you mean?’ he said, holding aloft a bag full of caving equipment.
Sally shook her head. ‘We must be mad.’
Zac threw a helmet to Gates and set another on his own head. ‘No, Sally. We might be mad, but you're not. You’ll stay here until we get back.’
‘No way, Zac! If you two are going, I'm going too. You're not leaving me up here on my own again.’
‘This isn't up for debate, Sally. Bill and I are going to take a look at the tunnel. If those goons are already down there, then there's no way I'm risking your life too.’
Sally strode over to the car and checked the boot for a spare helmet. ‘You bastard! You didn't get a helmet for me.’
‘Like I said, this isn't up for negotiation.'
‘Well, you don’t have to convince me, said Mac.’ I’ll look after the car.
Sally turned on her heel and clambered up to the cab of the digger. Gates had left the bright orange driver's safety helmet on the seat of the cab. Sally quickly forced it onto her head. ‘There. Now I've got one too. No arguments. I'm not staying here. This is the place where your old girlfriend's uncle was shot to bits. I'm not hanging around here for that to happen again.’
‘She's got a point,’ agreed Gates.
‘Thanks for your support,’ said Zac sarcastically. ‘Okay, but you'll have to stay between Bill and I. I don't have another light.’
Sally snatched the flashlight from his hand. ‘Now I do.’
Gates laughed. ‘Feisty bugger aren't you?’
Zac smiled and nodded. ‘Bloody pig-headed, more like.’
Sally stood at the edge of the steps whilst Zac and Gates pulled on the gear. Minutes later Zac began a slow and careful descent down the steps into the mountain.
CHAPTER 69
Returning to the Chapel, Boyce gave the order to uncover the altar once more to test the killers. Within seconds, the board and rack had been pulled back, and two armed response team officers were poised ready for expected shots to be fired.
‘Don’t need to tell you to be careful, lads.’
The men nodded, made some hand signals then shone a light into the hole. Nothing. No shots.
‘Shit!’ Boyce now had to take action. Either the killers were out of ammo or they were enticing him to make a move. One way or another his hand was being forced.
The door to the Chapel opened, and Robocop walked in. D.S. Mann looked ridiculous. Dressed in standard body armour, helmet and webbing, he had also fastened a large curved sheet of iron to a belt around his waist.
‘What the fuck?’
‘Thought you’d like it,’ he grinned. ‘Found the old plate behind the castle. I’ll lower it down below me to cover my lower legs. If they’re going to shoot, at least I’ll have protection from this to scarper back up the ladder.’
‘Scarper? You won’t scarper anywhere with that fucking thing hanging from you. Must weigh as much as a fat bloke on a diet of burgers and beer.’
‘It does have the odd drawback, but I’d rather have this than a bullet up my arse or two bullets in my wedding tackle.’
Boyce couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Look. It’s an idea, I suppose. But you’re not trained for this sort of thing. We’ll have to send in the specialists.’
‘Bollocks, boss! This is our job, and I need this one. I’m not letting any of these glory boys steal our thunder.’
‘Looks like it might be academic anyway…it’s all gone quiet. I think they’re out of ammo.’
‘Then there’s no argument, is there?’
He had a point. Boyce nodded. ‘Okay. Get down onto the ladder as quick as you can. Don’t hang about. You’ll be a sitting duck.’
‘No problem, boss. Mann by name MAAAN by nature.’
Boyce had to give it to the man. He certainly had balls.
*
The first few steps were the worst. Getting onto the ladder without being heard was impossible. The metal sheet banged against the side of the tunnel, ringing like a bell. There was still no movement below.
Mann looked to his boss. ‘It’s too quiet.’
‘That’s the point where the cowboy gets an arrow in his neck,’ Boyce warned.
Nodding, eyes wide in the realisation of what he’d actually taken on, Mann dropped down the ladder, missing a step and landing with a clang on the floor below.
‘Bloody bollocks,’ Boyce shouted. ‘Get down there lads.’ He expected a hail of gunfire and the rapid end of his colleague.
The two firearms officers leaped up onto the altar and slid down the ladder to the floor. Mann had rolled to the side, dragging his improvised shield with him. The officers sprang into action, each taking up a firing stance on either side of their colleague.
Boyce heard the call. ‘All clear.’
All Clear?
‘What the fuck?’
CHAPTER 70
Several feet beyond the arch, the steps began to turn to the left. Sally followed closely behind Zac whilst Gates brought up the rear. The lamps on the helmets revealed the slippery green accumulation of years of water ingress to the stairwell.
After another dozen or so steps, they again turned left, and it was clear that they were following a deep well down to the bottom of the valley.
The sound of rushing water grew louder with each step, rivulets of rainwater from above seeping through the old brickwork and down the greasy steps.
Zac imagined that, in their prime, the steps would have provided quick and easy access to the bottom of the well, but because of the deterioration of conditions over the years it took nearly thirty minutes to reach the bottom.
Zac dropped off the bottom step, relieved to have reached the end of the treacherous staircase without mishap. He had totally lost his bearings. They had turned so many times on the way down that he had no way of knowing which direction the passageway ahead of him was leading. The low arched room had been built in the same way as the arch nearer the top. Red clay bricks were wedged on end to form the arch, and the roof of the passage had been formed in a similar manner. Zac was impressed by the workmanship. The structure could last for hundreds of years. The beam from his light failed to reach the far end of the passage. It looked to be at least a hundred metres long.
Sally and Gates clumped down the last few steps and joined Zac at the bottom.<
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‘Well, there's no need to ask which way next, is there?’ said Gates. There was no way out other than the steps they had just used and the tunnel that lay ahead.
Zac ducked into the tunnel. ‘Follow me and keep as quiet as you can. Keep an eye on me and if I raise my hand you stop and say nothing, understand?’ he said to Sally.
Sally looked offended. ‘Of course I understand. I've seen army films. I know what a stop sign looks like.’
Zac smiled. ‘Okay. Then we’re good to go. Keep a few feet behind me, just in case the roof isn't safe.’
Sally nodded and shone her light past Zac. ‘Looks scary.’
Gates pinched her at the waist. Sally jumped. ‘Shit, Bill. What was that for?’
‘Just testing your nerves. I think you just failed.’
Sally shook her head and struggled to hide her smile. ‘Prat!’
Zac took off along the tunnel. Bent at the waist, it took him several metres before he got the right amount of crouch to avoid constantly hitting his helmet against the roof.
Gates grimaced. Being at least three inches taller than Zac, he didn't fancy a hundred metre squeeze along the tunnel. ‘I hope it doesn't go on for long.’
Sally stopped as she entered the tunnel and turned back to face Gates. ‘Why’s that, Bill? Haven't got the nerve for it?’ She grinned as she took off after Zac.
Gates smiled. ‘Cheeky bugger.’
*
The tunnel did lead further than the beam of light and extended for two or three hundred metres.
Sally could see Zac stand upright at the end, and she quickly followed him out into a natural cave chamber at least twenty metres wide and another thirty or forty metres long. The roof of the chamber was only two or three feet higher than the man-made tunnel, but it dropped down below them some ten metres to a fast-running stream below.
‘Wow,’ she said. ‘Looks like we travelled through a drain, leading to a cave.’
‘No,’ replied Zac. ‘I don't think this is a drain. If I'm right I think you'll find it's what Mac said - a discreet entrance and exit from the castle,’ he said as he fished for a compass in the pocket of his coveralls. He held the device up to his face and took a bearing. ‘This tunnel and the cave are leading us directly to the place.’
Sally could see the source of the small stream ahead.
‘Do you think that leads under the castle?’ she said, pointing at the outlet.
‘I'd bet my pension on it!’
Zac could see a concrete walkway on the floor below. A small iron ladder had been bolted to the wall below his feet. He dropped down from the man-made passage onto the walkway leading through the stream below. Sally dropped down behind him. Gates kneeled and passed down a wicked-looking short rifle.
‘Not more guns?’ said Sally.
‘MP5,’ replied Gates. ‘Accurate over a short range and ideal for carrying in confined places like this. It's a bit loud, but these'll help if things get noisy.’ He took a small blue plastic box from his pocket and flipped open the lid. Inside were two small malleable earplugs. Gates took one and began kneading it into shape. ‘You just form it into a shape suitable for your lughole. Won’t cut all the noise out, but it'll be a massive help if anyone needs to start shooting down here.’
‘What about the roof falling in?’
Zac shook his head. ‘Very doubtful. These caves have been here for tens of thousands of years. They've been cut by the river and it would be highly unlikely for the roof to cave in from a few sudden loud bangs.’
Sally wasn't convinced. ‘I don’t do “unlikely.” I want “certain.”’
‘Can't give you that, I'm afraid. Never can tell. We should be okay,’ said Gates. ‘To be honest,’ he continued, ‘If someone does start shooting down here, you’re more likely to be killed by a ricochet than a falling rock.’
‘Oh, bloody lovely!’ Sally took the earplugs and pushed them into her ears before following Zac along the stream towards the source.
CHAPTER 71
Having called in the bad news, Boyce joined the three men in the cave below and waited for the rest of the five man tactical team to join them.
A large hole had appeared in the wall behind the ladder. An iron frame had been constructed to take a false wall of stone and had been blocking another passageway, probably for the last century.
‘We’ve got a bit of a problem, lads. Looks like the bastards found a way out. We’ve got the teams alerted on the surface, but God only knows where this will come out. There’s only one thing for it. We’ve got to follow.’
The team didn’t seem bothered. Professional training took over from any normal sense of fear and panic.
The team leader, a man called Bryce Davies, stepped forward. ‘I’ll take over from here, sir. If you and Iron Man here would like to take up the rear, we’ll get the bastards before they get out.’
Mann cut the straps holding the metal sheet and let it drop to the floor.
‘They might have had an hour head start on us,’ Boyce warned.
‘Then what are we waiting for?’
*
Bourse and Tourrain were still laughing as they trudged along the old tunnel. It looked like they had escaped again. The going was good; large sections of concrete made the passage easier. They had no idea why, but were grateful nonetheless. The tunnel was lined by an orderly troop of oil lamps fixed to the rock walls. Tourrain checked one; the wick had rotted, and the oil had been washed out by water over the years.
It had taken nearly thirty minutes to find the way to remove the false wall, but he had started laughing as soon as the heavy panel began to move away from the entrance it covered.
They had walked no more than a hundred paces when they heard a loud clatter behind. Someone had dared to enter the tunnel and would now, no doubt, be in pursuit. But even that threat failed to dampen their spirits. They had been in tougher situations before and walked away without a scratch. They would do so again.
A long descending flight of stairs led deep into the ground ahead. Slippery moss covered each of the stone steps. ‘Here, take this,’ Bourse said, handing Tourrain his bag. He unzipped it and removed a long coil of rope. Tying one end to one of the lamps bolted to the rock he threw the end down into the dark void. ‘We’ll use this to steady ourselves.’
Bourse began climbing down the steps, holding onto the rope for support. Tourrain threw the bag over his shoulder and started off down the steps after his partner in crime.
*
The team of tactical officers took off along the newly opened passage, Davies leading, with the others following in single file. Mann and Boyce were at the rear with another tactical officer for close protection.
Although there was no need for confirmation of the killers’ route, the rope hanging down a long set of steps looked new and confirmed that they were going in the right direction.
Davies stopped at the top of the steps and called an officer forward. The man took a ballistic shield from his back and held it out with one hand as he wrapped the rope around the other.
The rope was tighter than he expected. ‘I think there’s someone still on the other end. I can feel it tugging, sir.’
‘Be on your guard. I expect they’ll feel the same at their end.’
The officer nodded and began to descend the steps.
*
Bourse had reached the bottom. There had been more steps than he had expected. About a hundred and fifty or so, he estimated. He waited for Tourrain to join him. His partner stopped just three steps from the bottom and pointed up into the dark behind him.
‘Someone’s on the other end,’ Tourrain whispered.
Smiling, Bourse pulled his MP5 from his back and checked the safety. ‘Let’s give them something to think about, shall we?”
Letting off a short burst of fire, Bourse began to laugh as he heard the scream of a man in the distance, followed by a thump and a clatter as the unlucky victim began to fall down the steps towards them.
The ballistic shield was useful in certain circumstances. But carrying it and descending slippery steps was never going to be easy. Gerwyn Jones had used the shield in many tactical training exercises, some of which had even involved stairs, but none had combined the stairs with poor light and slippery moss-covered steps.
He felt his lead foot slip away on the third step from the top. He had no choice but to move the shield to catch his balance before he tumbled down into the unknown below.
Gerwyn had always considered himself a lucky man. At the age of twenty-five he had won two large sums of money on the lottery. It hadn’t been enough to retire to a life of luxury but Gerwyn had never wanted to do that anyway. He loved the job. He loved the adrenaline rush that only a real life or death situation could offer.
The shield shifted to the right as Gerwyn twisted his body to free a hand to grip the rope, just as he felt a searing pain in his side. The loud series of echoing, staccato bangs from below were confirmation that a round from an automatic weapon had hit him.
Gerwyn dropped the shield and felt himself falling into space.
His luck had run out.
CHAPTER 72
The cave here appeared bronze in the light from the helmet lamp. Shadows from the vertical ridges of water-carved flutes appeared like ribs along the length of the passage. Zac could imagine what Jonah or Pinocchio must have felt in the belly of the whale.
Zac stopped and held out his hand to Sally to help her clamber up over another scattering of well-worn concrete steps. His legs felt devoid of bones, and the clammy perspiration forming along the line of the helmet felt at home in the cold, damp conditions.
A trickle of water tinkled and sparkled as it followed the lowest route through the tunnel and into the wide pool surrounding the old path, a pathetic reminder of the powerful floodwater that had carved the cave system over millennia.