“It’s also the direction of the terrorists that were firing at us.”
“How do you know? Never mind. You either hear them or smell them.”
Karen ignored the comment and turned right and walked beneath a couple of arches.
Lamboise asked, “Why are we after this particular group of terrorists?”
“First off, they were lying in wait for us. They knew that through the main entrance was the way we would enter the tunnels. Second, they are trying to kill us. Or me.”
“Why not me and how do you know they’re after you?”
“You were in front of us when they began to shoot. You should have been hit. But they were aiming for me.”
“Why you?”
“I don’t know, but someone in the group has a vengeance against me for some reason. I told you, they seem to know my every move. And thirdly, and you’re going to laugh at this, I smell a familiar odor along with the acid from batteries.”
“What familiar odor?”
“It’s like bad body odor. Oh…”
“What?”
“It couldn’t be.”
“What?”
“When I was working for the company that bought my father’s business, Krystal Vision, my assistant had a real foul body odor.”
“So, what does that have to do with us now?”
“It turned out that he…”
“He what?”
“He was killed. I don’t understand. Can more than one person have the same body odor? Isn’t it like fingerprints? Take away the perfumes and the deodorants and fragrant soaps, hair spray, makeup, etcetera and we all smell differently.”
“I have no idea.”
“Wait,” Karen said, and dropped to the floor.
Lamboise followed.
Karen whispered, “The faint sound of breathing. And that smell.”
CHAPTER 36
Karen lay on the floor of the catacombs, her Glock ready—the safety off. Her father had insisted that before she went away to college, she get a concealed weapon permit and purchase a gun. She acquiesced to her father’s wishes, and he then insisted she take some marksmanship lessons.
Her instructor’s words echoed in her mind, “If you pull your gun out of your holster or your purse, you had better be ready to fire it and kill someone.”
In Nevada, at the Israeli Counter-Terrorism Training School, she was told the same thing. “If you draw your gun, be prepared to shoot, and shoot to kill.”
Karen lay still and listened. The breathing was coming from an opening to the right. It began to quicken. The person was going to move. Maybe attack.
She readied to take the shot. She would be the one to maim or kill the terrorist, the enemy, an adversary, an opponent, a man, a woman, a human being, one of God’s creations. But a terrorist—the enemy.
The instructor in Nevada said, “Don’t think, and don’t hesitate. Take the shot. Don’t delay. If you do, it may cost you your life.”
A shadow burst from the right and into the tunnel and opened fire. Karen squeezed off three quick shots before Lamboise could take aim.
There was silence.
Karen stayed focused on the area where the flashes had burst the darkness.
Lamboise came alongside and lay beside her. “Great shooting,” he said.
They both listened to the scuttling of feet. At least two others were running away into the tunnel.
Lamboise said, “I’ll investigate. You stay here.” He got up and cautiously walked toward the location of the downed assailant. Satisfied that he was dead, Lamboise called to Karen that it was okay to proceed.
Karen rose from the floor of the tunnel and walked to Lamboise. She then looked down at the body of the terrorist.
The blood, the open eyes, no breath.
Karen said, “This one looks like he’s still in high school.”
“And he’s French most likely. We’ve lost a number of our country’s students to ISIS.”
“What a short life.”
“His choice. You said you smelled the battery acid and that strange odor. Do you smell it now?”
Karen stepped forward. She walked farther into the tunnel and said, “The smells are ahead of us. One of the terrorists up ahead. Where are we?”
Lamboise looked around with his light from his cell and said, “This is Rue du Commandeur. If we keep going straight, we’ll come to another crossroads.”
“And another ambush?”
“Maybe,” Lamboise said, and led the way.
“I hear gunfire off in the distance. Lots of it. It seems to be getting closer,” Karen said.
“The military teams. We’ll turn down Rue d’Alésia,” Lamboise said, pointing to the sign.
“Are these the roads down here or above us?”
“Above us.”
“So, you know where we are based on what’s over us. But what if we run out of tunnel?”
“Hopefully, we won’t.”
“The gunfire’s coming toward us.”
“We’ll turn down here. We’re under Rue du Loing. Now, I can hear the gunshots. It sounds like they’re fighting around Le Cellier.”
They entered Rue Sarrette, Lamboise leading the way.
A battle was nearing. They turned a corner and stepped into the middle of a crossfire. Lamboise dove for cover and Karen followed.
Karen yelled over the racket, “Which are the terrorists?”
Lamboise hollered back, “You’d probably be able to tell the difference between the sounds made by the different weapons if you’d been exposed to French military issue. But if you listen, the more erratic firing would be from the terrorists. French soldiers and intelligence personnel are taught to fire with precision. The same as you.”
The terrorists were south of Le Cellier in a group, split between Rue Sarrette and some of the side tunnels. The fighting was intense, and the gunpowder blasts amplified by the tunnels were eardrum-shattering. Karen kept her Glock 17 in hand and covered her ears as the battle moved ahead of them into sloping channels just north of what Lamboise called the Marie Rose Room.
The rapid-firing terrorists continued shooting their assault weapons into the darkness using night-vision scopes. The French defenders were using similar sight equipment but only fired single shots or in short bursts once a target was sighted.
Karen and Lamboise had no additional equipment to assist them in seeing except for Karen’s flashlight and Lamboise’s cellphone which they kept turned off so as not to give the terrorists a target.
The fighting began to move away, and the sounds were becoming fainter. Karen and Lamboise moved carefully through the tunnel. The flashes from the firefight provided enough light so that they could see to not trip over any of the bodies lying in separate clumps along the trail of the skirmish.
Lamboise walked in front of another opening and felt a rifle barrel in his side and the man said, “Drop your weapon.”
Karen quickly hid in a side cave and prepared to battle as soon as she determined how many there were.
Lamboise said, “We’re French Intelligence.”
The man said, “ID.”
Lamboise went to reach into his pocket.
“Easy,” the man said.
Lamboise held out his identification. The soldier shone a flashlight beam on the ID and then on Lamboise’s face.
“Who do you report to?” the man asked.
“Durran,” Lamboise answered.
Karen stepped from the shadows with her hands up.
Lamboise said, “She’s with me.”
“Do you have night-vision equipment?” the soldier asked.
“No, just a flashlight and my cellphone.” Lamboise turned on the light and it quickly disappeared. The battery had finally died. He placed his cell in his pocket.
The two soldiers handed extra night-vision binoculars to Karen and Lamboise, and the one said, “Keep out of our way. We have a job to do.”
Karen thanked them for the equipment and told t
hem they’d comply.
“See that you do,” the one soldier said, and they walked away.
“Come on,” Karen said. “I can smell that odor, and I can hear that the terrorists have split up. We need to get to the one who’s carrying the remote. I smell the battery and sense the electricity.”
“I don’t know how that’s possible,” Lamboise said, but followed along.
***
The soldiers were well out of sight and sound, and suddenly Karen stopped.
“What?” Lamboise said.
“The terrorists are running. Come on,” Karen said and took off in a trot.
Lamboise, following close behind said, “If they keep heading along Rue Sarrette, they’re going to run into a section of fairly deep water. They can’t wade through it. They’ll have to swim it or go alongside it on a narrow ledge. They’ll need two hands to do that. We’ll catch up with them there.”
“Maybe we can cause them to fall into the water and short out the remote.”
Aided by the night-vision equipment given to them by the French soldiers, Lamboise began to move swiftly. He ran past Karen. She followed close behind.
As they approached the brink of the water, they could see two men inching along the ledge that hung over the edge of the underground lake.
***
“We can’t fall into the water,” Fadhil said. “The remote’ll short out. That’s our bargaining chip if we get trapped before the timer on the bombs goes off.”
“How far are we from the metro station?” Atwah asked.
“About nine hundred more feet. We’ll grab the ransom, get a taxi, and head out of town.”
“I can hear someone coming.”
Fadhil looked back into the tunnel and said, “It’s that fucking Krystal chick. You were right; we should’ve made sure she was eliminated back in Virginia. She’s got someone with her. They both have weapons. We’d better hurry. We’re easy targets on this ledge.”
***
“Can you smell the batteries?” Lamboise whispered.
“Not as much as I can smell the odor,” Karen whispered.
They reached the edge of the water and Karen said, “We can’t follow them. As soon as they get off the ledge and are on solid ground, if we’re on the ledge, we’ll be easy targets.”
“Let’s change the odds,” Lamboise said, aimed and fired his gun. The bullet made the stone spark where it hit and there was a yelp from one of the terrorists, and then a splash. Then there was another splash.
“They’re both in the water,” Karen said. “The first one was hit and fell in. The second jumped. The first one had the remote.”
“How do you know this?”
“The splash of the first was louder, caused by more of the body hitting the water. The second made less noise and was a result of a jump into the water. The second wouldn’t have entered the water if he had the remote. So the first one, the one that is wounded was the one with the remote.”
“Either way, the remote should be shorted out. Can you smell anything?”
“Only that disgusting body odor. Not the battery acid.”
There was splashing heard up ahead.
Lamboise said, “They swam the rest of the way. The wounded one must not be too bad off.” Lamboise stayed stationary, looking through his night-vision binoculars. “They’re getting out of the water.” Lamboise aimed and fired. “I hit one; he’s on the ground, not moving. The other one I can’t see.”
Atwah whispered to Fadhil but there was no response.
Karen asked, “Is there a way out of here nearby?”
“About four hundred yards away.”
“Come on, we have to risk using the ledge to go after them. They can still set off the bombs by hand if they get back to the Opera House. We don’t know how many there are within reach of the control panel. And the timer’s still running.”
Karen put her gun in its holster and stretched to grab the natural handholds above the ledge. Lamboise followed. They inched their way along. It was a slow process. They could have waded into the water and swum across the expanse, their weapons were impervious to water, but they chose to stay dry, refrain from making any sound, and risking exposure.
Karen was about to climb around a jut out when she stopped. She stayed motionless.
“What?” Lamboise whispered.
She whispered, “The body odor’s stronger, and I hear breathing. Jump!” Karen let go of the stone handles and dropped into the water. Lamboise followed. The wall was strafed with bullets. They hid behind the protrusion until the firing stopped.
A voice in the distance was heard. “You may have stopped us from setting off the remote; but you can’t stop me from making it back to the power switch even though you know where it is. Or prevent the timer from setting off the bombs.”
Karen whispered, “I know that voice. But I don’t believe it. And how does he know we know the location of the control room? Karen called out. “Brandon, is that you?”
“Atwah is my name now, bitch. I’m part of the World Massacre Movement. And you and all your kind will soon be fucking eliminated from the face of the earth. As soon as I collect the ransom money, I’ll be able to live wherever I want and raise an army that will destroy the fucking free world.”
Atwah fired a few rounds again and called out, “You’ll be here until your dead, or I run out of ammunition. And that won’t be for quite awhile. If you try to go back or forward, I’ll fill your body with holes.”
Karen whispered, “We’ve got to find a way around him or somehow stop him and then get back to the Opera House. We have just a little over an hour.”
Lamboise looked at his watch, and whispered, “A little over an hour? How can you always know the time, and how do you know this guy?”
Karen whispered, “I told you. I smelled his body odor, and it smelled like the odor of my assistant at Krystal Vision. Besides, we can’t worry about that now. We have to find a way to get by Brandon or Atwah whatever he calls himself. He still smells the same.”
“He has a night-vision sight on his weapon and when he was standing, I saw strands of bullets hung around him. He could have us pinned down for hours.”
“I can’t believe it’ll all end like this: the Louvre destroyed and Lillia killed while we hide here.”
“If we go back, he can see us; and if we go forward around this jut out, he’ll see us. Either way, he can shoot us.”
Karen looked at the expanse of the water back to shore. It was a good distance to swim underwater. She could do it, maybe. But then she’d have to rise out, and she’d be exposed.
“We’re stuck here until maybe the military shows up,” Lamboise said.
“Wait. Be quiet for a minute.”
“What?”
“Shhh,” Karen said, holding up a finger to her lips.
CHAPTER 37
Karen listened. She whispered, “I can hear water running, and I feel a current below my feet.”
Lamboise whispered, “I can’t hear anything, and I don’t feel anything.”
“When we were up on the ledge, I thought I heard water running. And I smelled a fishy smell and worms. When we were inching along the ledge, I noticed that there were some holes in the wall, and I could smell the odors through them. I could also hear the sound of water running.”
“How is this going to help us? I don’t know what you’re getting at.”
“The water in this lake is being fed by a stream of some sort. It’s coming from the other side of this wall. There may be another route that can take us around Brandon.”
“How are we going to get to the other side of this wall?”
“I feel a current. I’m going to slip beneath the surface and see where it’s originating. If the opening is big enough, we might be able to swim through it and up to the other side.”
Karen pointed her flashlight into the water and turned it on. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she said and sank into the lake.
Not too far
down, there was an opening. She shone her light through the hole and up to the surface on the other side. There looked to be only about four feet of water up to the adjacent stream.
She squeezed though the hole and rose above the surface on the far side of the wall. She flashed her light around to see and then dove back down.
Lamboise waited patiently. It was eerily silent. He couldn’t hear the water running, or Karen swimming beneath him, nor Atwah’s breathing.
Karen rose up silently and whispered, “There’s a hole all right.”
“Does it go through to the other side?”
“Yes, but I barely squeezed through. You’d never be able to make it.”
“You went into the other tunnel?”
“Yes, and a stream flows up the tunnel. It looks like there’re a number of openings to the left. One of them could be opposite Brandon.”
Lamboise looked at Karen.
“I know what you’re thinking. The only way out for us is for me to swim through the opening, sneak up the tunnel, and stop him.”
“You’re going to have to kill him,” Lamboise said. “This is someone you know. Someone you worked with. Are you up for this?”
“I’ll handle it.”
“I’ll keep watching for him in case he moves. I can’t see where he is right now, but if he moves, I’ll see him, and I’ll fire. I think he’s to the right. The other person is on the left on the ground, dead.”
“If you fire, don’t miss and hit me,” Karen said.
Lamboise bid her good luck.
Karen took three normal breaths, and one deep one, then dropped beneath the surface of the lake. Within moments, she turned off her light and rose out of the water on the other side of the wall. She looked through her night-vision binoculars.
The parallel tunnel was fairly straight with numerous openings along both sides. There was a small bank along the stream. Karen climbed out of the water and began slowly walking toward Brandon’s location. In her left hand and to her eyes were the night-vision binoculars. In her right hand was her Glock 17 with the safety off.
Her heartbeat was that of an athlete—slow, strong, and steady. Her breathing was silent. Her footwalls were light.
Krystal Scent (Krystal Vibration Series Book 2) Page 27