She rushed back and forth, checking the ground. No blood, no footprints. What the hell happened? Where are they? What did you do?
Questions raced through her mind. Chief among them was did Jayne have Tecumseh?
Dust trickled down on her face again. She brushed it off with an angry swipe. A rock the size of a baseball landed next to her feet with a thud. Danica decided it was time to leave.
20
Roadblock
Cooper followed the cop deeper and deeper into the tunnel system. It became apparent after several minutes of hobbling through the dark that the slope was increasing.
“We going uphill?” he whispered
“Seems like it,” the senator replied.
His chief of staff remained largely silent, for which Cooper was increasingly grateful. Somewhere out there, Jayne Renolds stalked them. She had taken out the driver and there hadn’t been a damn thing in the world Cooper could’ve done about it. He was powerless to stop her from striking again. With the kind of precision that she’d employed in driving the knife through the man’s throat, Cooper had no doubt she was wearing night vision.
With only the dying cellphone camera flash from the cop to guide the way, Cooper had no misconceptions about the tactical advantage Jayne held over them.
Even if the tunnel didn’t seem to be threatening to collapse down around them because of the battle that 13 had with whoever was chasing them, the fact they were trapped in the darkness with one of the world’s deadliest assassins hunting them made Cooper that much more desperate to burst through a door somewhere and emerge into the daylight. He clenched his jaw in frustration. Even if they managed to escape the tunnel, they had no idea what to expect on the surface.
Old Town Edinburgh was in absolute chaos when he’d commandeered the trash truck and smashed through the attackers pinning down 13 and the senator. When he’d left the secured environs around the Scottish National Parliament Building, those in charge had no idea what was coming next, or if the car bomb was the sum of the attack.
Knowing that Jayne was involved, Cooper was willing to bet there was more coming. She was sophisticated, no doubt, and subtle, but a simple car bomb was not her style.
The senator paused and Cooper nearly ran into his back. “What are you doing? Keep moving, sir.”
“It’s Eli—he can’t go much further without rest,” Tecumseh said.
“This is no good,” Angus muttered from the other side of the senator. “We’ve got to keep moving, sir,” he said, his accent deepening in, keeping pace with his anxiety. Keeping pace with Cooper’s anxiety.
“He’s right, Senator, we can’t stop. If that means we leave him, then we leave him. But I have to get you out of this tunnel.”
“Don’t leave me!” Eli whined, the sound of his voice echoing through the surrounding tunnels.
Cooper hissed for the man to be quiet and grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking the shorter man’s head back at a savage angle. “You listen to me, and you listen good, you sniveling piece of shit. There is an extremely dangerous individual out there hunting us at this very second. You’ve seen what she did to the driver. If you don’t keep your fucking mouth shut, I’m going to slit your throat and save her the trouble. You are slowing us down. My top priority is to get the senator to safety. If you do not put on your big boy pants and suck it up, I will leave your ass. Do you get me?”
“You can’t do this!” Eli struggled in Cooper’s iron grip. “I won’t stand—”
“If you don’t shut the hell up, you’re not going to stand ever again!” Cooper whispered. He jerked the man’s head closer to his lips. “Do I make myself clear?”
“That’s enough, Mr. Braaten,” the senator said in a voice loud and clear.
“Christ, we don’t have time for this,” Angus muttered, sweeping his cellphone light back and forth across the path. “I’m thinking we’re almost to the castle. We’ve got to keep moving, aye?”
“Castle?” Cooper and Eli said at the same time.
“If the ground is sloping up, it’s the only way we can go. The castle occupies the crag at the top of the Royal Mile. If we keep going, we’ll run right into the main gate. But we’ve got to find a side tunnel that opens topside.”
A rumble behind them sent shivers down Cooper’s spine that mimicked the shuddering of the walls around them. A trickle of dust settled on his hair, tickling his scalp. “We’re out of time—this tunnel could be collapsing behind us. Move!” he said, shoving Eli forward.
“When this is over, you’re going to wish you hadn’t done that,” Eli snarled, grabbing the senator for support.
“That’s enough!” Tecumseh said. The harsh snap of his voice silenced Cooper’s comeback.
Looks like you got some fire in you after all.
“If you three are done, I’d like to get the bloody hell out of here!” Angus said, his voice rising. He turned and jogged up the path, shining his light down side tunnels, most of which had collapsed, perhaps decades or centuries earlier—perhaps minutes earlier.
Cooper let the group move ahead of him, and turned to stare down into the darkness behind them. It only took a few seconds for the last vestiges of the glow from Angus’ phone to vanish, leaving Cooper swallowed up by complete, utter blackness. He squinted, concentrating on the void before him. Closing his eyes, he stretched his hearing, straining to hear anything other than the infrequent cracking of brick and stone, the shifting of dust, and the grinding of pebbles as the tunnels died.
Nothing. He heard nothing. That in and of itself was a warning sign. Jayne could be standing right in front of them and he’d never notice.
No. He opened his eyes. I would notice the smell. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that.
One corner of Cooper’s mouth lifted, and he turned and jogged, taking a few steps, letting his dark-adapted eyes pick out the faint glow from Angus’ phone, perhaps 20 yards ahead. Cooper jogged forward, intent on catching the group—and possibly Jayne if she slipped in between him and them while they moved.
No, she’s too smart for that, too patient. If anything, she’s out there behind me, watching. Cooper frowned. Deep down, he knew Jayne had likely evacuated the tunnels already and headed to the surface. Someone like her valued self-preservation above almost everything else.
Cooper wiped the sweat from his face with his bare left arm and winced at the sharp sting the movement caused. One of the rocks that tumbled from the ceiling must’ve cut his scalp or forehead.
Echoed shouts tumbled down the tunnel toward Cooper. He sprinted, bringing his rifle up to his shoulder as the flashlight wavered back and forth before dropping to the ground. As he approached the scuffling, he realized Angus was locked in close personal combat with an unknown assailant. He heard muttered growls and curses, both in English and Gaelic as the cop wrestled someone to the ground.
“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” Angus cried, one shadow forcing another shadow to the ground.
“It’s mine!” a rough, smoke-abused voice snarled. Cooper heard a foot scrape the gravel, then Angus grunted in pain.
We don’t have time for this bullshit.
He rushed forward and in the afterglow of the cellphone, found Angus laying on top of a struggling man. Cooper took a knee and pressed his rifle barrel against the man’s head, pushing hard. Even in the darkness, he saw the whites of the man’s eyes.
“Simmer down, asshole, or I’ll pull the trigger to blow your brains all over this Goddamn tunnel.”
“Thanks for the assist,” Angus said. He coughed, and got up off the man. “Geein me the boak, you smell like a bucket of shite!”
A long string of Gaelic—which Cooper couldn’t tell might have been cursing, or instructions on how to exit the tunnel, or begging for the man’s life—erupted with the stench of rotten teeth.
Cooper turned away, the smell of the man making his nose burn. “Holy shit, dude, you reek…”
“Bloody vagabond—surprised we didn�
��t run into more of them down here…I was told the tunnels had been cleared ahead of the summit, but we knew they’d never find them all…” Angus complained.
The man snarled at Cooper and reached up with claw-like fingers, raking Cooper’s face. Cooper howled in pain and pulled the trigger. An explosion of light from the muzzle flash blinded him and the sound of the rifle going off created a deafening roar.
Cooper sat back on his heels and tentatively touched his fingertips to his clawed face. “Dammit,” he muttered. “Thank God I had those vaccines before coming over…”
“Did you have to do that?” Tecumseh shouted. He rushed forward and knelt by the dead man on the ground.
Cooper stood as Angus picked up the phone and directed the light on the mess on the floor. The man’s head had ruptured like a ripe melon—it looked like someone had upended a cherry cobbler and dropped it on the floor.
“Oh, my God,” Eli whimpered. A second later Cooper heard him retching in the darkness, a wet, splashing sound echoing from the ground.
“Your vagabonds always this friendly?” Cooper mumbled.
“Ah, no…never seen anyone do that before…” Angus said, more curious about the incident itself then Cooper’s ending of it.
“Well, there’s nothing we can do about him. Let’s get this shit show on the road. Get us out of here, Angus.”
“Right, that gunshot will have alerted anyone to our presence, there’s no doubting that now.”
“You murdered that man,” Eli hissed.
“Self-defense, bub,” Cooper said, shrugging one shoulder.
Angus turned the flashlight and pointed at Cooper, causing him to raise a hand to block the searing light from his eyes. “Hey, watch it!”
“Bloody hell—you’ll need to be looked at for sure…”
Cooper was more than satisfied with the intake of breath from the direction of the senator and his chief of staff.
“I told you, self-defense.”
“That’s no excuse for shooting someone in the head. The man was already subdued.”
Cooper took a step forward but Tecumseh blocked his path. “Does this fucking look subdued?” Cooper shouted, jabbing a finger at his bloodied face.
“Enough!” Tecumseh said, both hands up in front of Cooper’s chest. “Just get us out of here; we’ll deal with the consequences later.”
Cooper laughed. “There’s not going to be any consequences.”
“We’ll see about that!” Eli said over Tecumseh’s shoulder.
The bobbing glow of Angus’ cellphone stopped up ahead. Cooper crept up behind the rest of the group and paused, listening for any sounds of footsteps behind him in the darkness. “What’s up? Why’d we stop?”
“End of the line, mate,” the cop said.
“Really?” Cooper asked. “About damn time.” What is he waiting for? “Get us out of here.”
“Bit of a problem with that…” the cop muttered. Cooper shuffled past the whimpering chief of staff and Senator Tecumseh to stand next to the Scottish officer.
“What do you mean…the fuck is this?” Cooper asked.
The Scotsman rapped his knuckles against the wooden barrier blocking their path. “Someone barred this tunnel. Could’ve been five years ago, or 100 years ago…I’ve no idea.” He turned and looked at Cooper, his face lit from below with the ghastly dim light. “Sorry.”
Cooper sighed, attempting unsuccessfully to let his frustration leave peacefully. He stared at the wooden barricade across the side tunnels entrance. “I’d give my left nut for some give glue right about now.”
“Give glue?” the senator asked. “What’s that?”
“Never mind,” muttered Cooper. He scratched his chin staring at the boards. “You say these could’ve been here for a while?”
“Och aye,” Angus replied. “The government’s been blocking these tunnels for decades. Always trying to root out the last places the homeless can hide…never been completely successful though, because if you think about it—”
“I got it,” Cooper snapped. “Everybody stand back.”
“Tell me you’re not going shoot that door,” Tecumseh said.
“I’m not going to shoot that door.” Cooper smirked in the darkness. “Yet.”
Bracing himself on his newly healed right leg, Cooper took a step and launched an exploratory kick with his left leg. His shoe thudded against the wood, and a shower of dust trickled down, but the planks did not bend or break.
“Great, we’re trapped here,” the chief of staff moaned.
Cooper shook his head. “I’m not going out like this…” He raised his rifle and took aim at the junction where the wood intersected the rock wall.
“Probably best if you guys slipped around the corner, there.”
21
Let it Rain
Jayne looked down at the barely glowing circular face of her smartwatch. The device was illuminated just enough for her night-vision goggles to pick up its display and show her the way out of the damn confusing tunnels. She supposed she could’ve taken off her restrictive goggles and turned the brightness up on her watch, but the last thing she wanted was to have an unexpected encounter with one of the homeless that remained in the underground warren of Edinburgh’s tunnels.
She’d already put in place the next phase of her plan to derail the summit, one that she sincerely hoped she wouldn’t have to initiate because it would step up her timetable too much. But if she had to, she had no qualms with releasing the accelerant to Dr. Salcotti’s gas.
Privy to Reginald’s unorthodox research program—hidden even from the Council itself—since the beginning, Jayne had been one of the first people to be inoculated against Salcotti’s nerve agents. Unlike the typical military uses for reactants that altered mental states, the good doctor’s potions had allowed Jayne to take complete control over President Barron.
Yet that had been a primitive version of the diminutive little Italian’s products. Upon taking control of Reginald’s crumbling empire, the first thing Jayne did was reach out and contact Salcotti in his secured, off-grid installation in the far reaches of the Canadian Yukon. The mad scientist was happily working away, and had provided Jayne with an improved version of his concoction. She’d seen the test results in his videos—when released upon test subjects, the clear, odorless gas had little effect. But when the accelerant was applied, either through liquid, inhalation, or injection, within hours the test subjects turned into ravening madmen, and clawed themselves to bits in a bloodied frenzy of primeval rage.
She’d never seen quite anything like it, and couldn’t wait to use it against those who opposed the Council’s—and by extension, her—rule. For along with Salcotti’s concoctions, he’d also developed a method of inoculating people from being affected by the gases. Soon after Reginald’s fall, Jayne paid him a personal visit to ensure his loyalty—and fear—and receive that precious inoculation.
As soon as she discovered plans for the summit and what it could mean for her and the resurgence of the Council, she quietly seeded Edinburgh with Salcotti’s concoction. She didn’t have enough to douse the entire city and wasn’t prepared to do so at any rate. She had major plans for this substance but at the moment was limited by her small supply. All of which she used on the people in and around the Scottish National Parliament and those at the castle. A small sample had been delivered to the Shadowbook restaurant earlier in the day—that would wreak havoc among the U.N. leadership and provide the diversion she’d need to escape if things went sideways.
Jayne coughed in the gathering dust, turned one final corner, and according to her watch came to the end of the side tunnel. She mounted the steps one at a time, taking care not to misstep with her high heels, and paused at the ancient wooden doorway barring her path. It took three tries, but she finally put enough force behind her shoulder to dislodge the old door and push it forward, grinding on pebbles and flagstones as the rusted hinges squealed in protest.
Wincing at the ligh
t, she pushed through the gap just big enough for her body to fit and stepped inside an abandoned row house. The dim sunlight from earlier had been replaced with a gray overcast sky. Thunder rumbled, shaking the loose windows in their ancient casings. The storm had finally arrived.
Jayne could think of nothing else than stepping out into the rain and letting the water wash away the dust, filth, and cobwebs she’d collected from crawling around the tunnel for the past hour. She opened the door and blinked in the brighter gloom and coughed as a cloud of dust followed her out into the rain. Sheets of water fell from the skies, instantly drenching her and washing the dust and grime from her hair and face.
She looked up into the sky and smiled, letting the water cleanse her. It wasn’t the same as taking a champagne bubble bath, but it felt damn good to be rid of the funk of that ancient, decrepit tunnel.
I hope the damn thing falls on top of you, Svea.
She took two steps out of the old building and down to the street, startling a man in a rain slicker carrying an MP5 submachine gun. His bright Day-Glo yellow rain gear announced him as a member of the local police force, as if the ridiculous black curved helmet with its checkered pattern didn’t give it away first. He opened his mouth in surprise at seeing Jayne’s curvy figure appear out of nowhere in her skin tight leather suit, but before he could form words, she drew her Sig Sauer and pulled the trigger.
The bark of her gun was loud, but not as loud as the thunder rumbling overhead.
She sidestepped the officer as he fell face first on the ground, his gun clattering away from his dying hand. Jayne holstered her sidearm, picked up the MP5, and slung the strap over her shoulder.
She looked up and down the Royal Mile, seeing nothing but shuttered buildings and rain washing down the cobbled street. A quarter mile away down the hill, the blue-and-white flashing strobes of police cars reflected off what windows remained unbroken after the bombing.
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