Heart of Stone (HOS Book 1)

by Rob Buckman

  * * * * * *

  "What was that?" The last man in Bonner's group called out.

  "What?" Someone asked.

  "I thought I heard something back there."

  "Check it out,” the call came back down the line.

  Half of the fifteen men turned back just as the 'Thunder Flash' went off. The tube-like object had been designed to stun and blind people in enclosed places, and had originally been designed as a simulated hand grenade. The effect had been increased over the years, where now, one 'Thunder Flash' could stun a roomful of people. The Israelis used them at Entebbe with great effect, as did the SAS when they took the Iranian Embassy in London. The last man in Bonner's team was no more than twenty feet from the device when it exploded. He and five other men simply dropped to the floor, blood streaming from their ears, totally blind. None of Bonner's people got away scot-free, not even Bonner himself. Cursing a blue streak, he just hoped nobody started shooting. They were completely vulnerable at that moment, defenseless should Grainger take the opportunity to attack. He didn't, and for that, Bonner would be eternally grateful. The butcher’s bill turned out to be three men, each with shattered eardrums and complete loss of sight. It would take an additional three men to lead them back to the surface. Of the twenty men he'd started down the caves with, he was down to nine. Slowly, Grainger was whittling them down, just as he'd done the night this had started.

  "I'd just love to meet the man who trained Grainger,” he said to no one in particular.

  "What would you do?" Manny Fisher asked.

  "I'd either shoot the fucker or shake his hand."

  "I'd shoot the fucker," Manny said.

  "I know you would. Whoever he was, he did one hell of a job with Grainger."

  "Shit! You can say that again." Even the usually un-impressionable Manny Fisher knew what Bonner meant. No matter which way you turned, it seemed as if Grainger was one-step ahead of you.

  "What now Will?" Manny asked. Bonner said nothing, examining the crack in the roof. This had to be where Grainger dropped the 'Thunder Flash' from, but the crack was too narrow to get into the same tunnel system he was in.

  "We'll just have to try and find a way into the same system he's in,” he said with a shrug.

  "I don't like this Will. It's getting hairy." Manny whispered. "I say we call it quits and get the fuck out of here."

  "You can if you want. I'll see this through to the end."

  "Why Will? It's just a job for Christ sake."

  "I have to, Manny." Bonner said with a sigh. He couldn't explain it, nor did he want to.

  "Shit, this guy is eating our lunch, has done from the get go. I say we all get the fuck out of here before he uses this mountain for our tombstone."

  "Go or stay Manny, it's up to you. I'm going on." With that, he turned and took off down the tunnel again. Manny sighed and looked at Bonner’s retreating back. He shrugged and followed.

  * * * * * *

  Coming to wide spot, Kat moved to the side, letting him take the lead again. The crawl-way ended two hundred yards further on and they could stand up again. After that, they made good time, finding one passage after another, all leading down. At last, they dropped into another cavern, and without stopping, took off around the small lake. There were three outlets to this one, the most obvious the one with water running down it. Mike examined each closely to see if it could tell him anything. The first one narrowed rapidly into a crawl-way, and even with a flashlight, it was impossible to tell where it went. The other was a spiraling drop of indeterminate depth, but climbable if they chimneyed their way down.

  "It's a tossup between this one and the other." He said pointing to two openings.

  "Maybe not Mike."

  "How’s that?"

  "I've got a feeling that someone has been down this one, look at this." 'This' turned out to be the remains of a piton driven into a crevice at the top of the spiraling drop.

  "Not much help. It could still be a dead end. There is no way of telling if the person or persons who drove that in ever came back. It could narrow so much we'd never get through."

  "It's worth a try."

  "You realize that by the time we've gotten to the bottom and back up again that bunch of yahoo's could be here."

  "I know."

  "I don't know how long it will take before they find a way into this system."

  "Let’s hope it's long enough. Let’s go."

  "You've got guts lady,” he said with a smile.

  "I've got a nice ass as well." With a chuckle, he started the climb down, slinging the rifle around his neck, barrel down between his legs.

  There was no time for the niceties of lowering the packs and weapons first. Plus, without knowing what waited for them at the bottom, it might put them at a distinct disadvantage, should the unfriendly turn up, above or below them. The going wasn't bad, the overflow from the lake had cleaned the chute. So it was free of sediment and dust. If Bonner and his crew turned up, hopefully there’d be nothing to indicate which way they had gone. Foot by foot they made their way down, backs jammed against one wall, feet against the other.

  'Chimneying' is a process of applied force and friction. By jamming their bodies between the two opposite walls of the chute and stretching their legs out, it was a simple matter of walking down the wall. The friction of their backs on the wall did the rest. On more than one occasion, Mike had climbed chimneys with perfectly smooth walls. In many ways, it had been easier. There it was just a matter of setting up a slow steady pace. Brace one leg and force your back against the wall to hold you in place while you placed the other leg a foot or so above or below it, depending on which way you were going. Then brace that leg, push upward with your hands and slide your back into a new position. Repeating the process to work your way up, or down. The problem was, that without training, legs, arms, and backs could get tired in a hurry. The uneven nature of the chute didn't help at all. It just made life miserable, as sharp edges cut into sore backs and the palms of hands. The other problem with this method of climbing was, that should you reach a place where the chimney is wider than the distance between your feet and back. You are proverbially 'Fucked'. It was possible to end up in a position where you couldn't go up or down. Time and their leg muscles were running out fast. The fact that they were climbing without the dubious benefit of light didn't help matters. In the position they were in, nothing could be seen below them.

  Trusting in instinct and blind luck Mike felt his way down. Occasionally feeling small rocks and debris falling on him from above, as Kat made her way down. If she fell, they were both dead. An eternity later, they hit bottom, legs muscles burning with fire: arms, back and hands torn, sore. They both slumped into heaps on the damp floor, gasping for breath. Mike looked at her fuzzy image in the green light wondering if it was fear, guts or stubbornness that made her make that climb. Whatever it was his admiration of her went up another notch. He'd made the last hundred feet or so on sheer will power. Wanting nothing more than to let go and drop, pain almost overriding common sense.

  "How you doing?" he whispered his throat dry and raspy.

  "I..." She coughed and tried again. "I feel great, but if you tell me that we have to go back up. I'll kill you where you stand."

  Mike chuckled. "You're all right lady."

  "Now what?" She said with a smile, echoing his laugh.

  "Sit still and catch your breath while I have a look round."

  "Yes sir boss man. I can do that with no trouble at all."

  Her helmet hit the wall with a soft thud as she let her head fall back, eyes already closed. The tiny pin light didn't show anything promising at first. For a moment, Mike thought he'd have to tell her they'd have to climb back up. Then his foggy brain registered that something was wrong. There had to be a way out, the water had to go somewhere. He crawled around the small cave, having to duck lower and lower as the roof pressed down on him. At last, he found it, a small opening low down on the rear wall. Some sediment did
get carried down with the water, mostly sand, and this had piled up as the flow of water slowed, forming the floor of the cave. All that could be seen of the opening was a black hole, just big enough for a small dog to crawl through. Even with five minutes of digging into the sand didn't show it getting any bigger.

  "Mike!!" Kat's urgent whisper floated down to him.

  "What!"

  "I hear something up there."

  "Oh shit. That's all we need."

  "What should I do?" Kat asked in a hoarse whisper.

  "Move out of direct line of sight just in case someone looks down." He heard her moving around, complying with his instructions.

  Taking his helmet off, he popped the liner out and used it as a shovel, sweat standing out on his forehead. It wasn't from work. It was the thought of what would happen if someone dropped a frag grenade down here right now. You had three ways to die, take your pick—concussion, grenade fragments, or the fucking roof falling in on your head. If you survived all that, then there was the prospect of starving to death, dying of thirst, suffocation, shooting yourself, or going completely mad. None of them a pleasant way to go, so he dug faster. At last, the opening grew larger as he dug down. Kat grabbed his arm, freezing him into position, moments before a high-powered light shone down the shaft. Voices carry a long way underground.

  "See anything down there." Someone asked.

  "Shit no, just a fucking hole in the ground. Looks like a dead end to me."

  "This crafty son of a bitch could be anywhere in here."

  "We know he came this far, you can see the tracks."

  "Yeah! So what?! This fucker’s done nothing we expected since the day this started. What gives you the idea that he's going to start now?" The conversation and the light slowly vanished as they moved on, plunging them back into darkness. The sudden light had overloaded their eyes with the goggles on and it took a few moments to get their sight back.

  "Thanks, you were quick,” he whispered.

  "I saw the light coming." She said with a shrug. "How we doing?"

  "Should know in a few moments."

  At last, the opening was big enough for them to squeeze through. The light showed the other side wasn't packed with sand, and for that, he was thankful. It wouldn't be long before someone came back to investigate this shaft.

  "Go on through and I'll pass the equipment to you."

  For a second, she gave him and the hole a dubious look, then wiggled feet first through the opening. She was muttering to herself something about monsters that used to live under her bed, knowing they’d all moved underground when she grew up. Mike passed the packs and weapons through the hole, all the time keeping an eye on the shaft. Now and then he saw a light pass over the opening at the top, wondering how long he had before they were back. He saw the light shine down the shaft as he pulled his head through the opening, knowing what was coming next. Grabbing Kat, he ripped the goggles off her head, rolling with her away from the opening as far as he could.

  "Open your mouth, close your eyes, and cover your ears, quick!" He whispered hoarsely. Even with those precautions, the concussion punched into them like a fist, driving the air from their bodies. They felt rather than heard the rock move around them, holding onto each other for dear life.

  CHAPTER TENTY-SIX:

  "You stupid idiot! Who dropped the grenade down there?" Bonner shouted.

  "I did!" Manny Fisher snapped back.

  "Christ almighty! It's a wonder you didn't bring the whole fucking roof down on us. What the hell did you do that for?"

  "I figured he might be down there."

  "How did you come to that conclusion?"

  "Willy and Ed said they couldn't find any evidence anyone had been down them other two tunnels, so they had to have gone down there!" He didn't try to hide the belligerent note in his voice. He didn't give a shit. This place was starting to get to him. It was starting to get to all of them. The thought of thousands of tons of rock and dirt hanging over their heads just waiting to fall, was playing havoc with their nerves.

  "That's just fucking wonderful. Now we have to waste a hell of a lot of time finding out if they did go that way. If they did, we then have to find a way to follow them."

  "If those fuckers are dead, it don't matter!"

  "And if he's not?"

  "Shit I don't know!"

  "Well shit head, you're going to find out, you can go down there and see."

  "Who me?"

  Bonner swung his weapon up.

  "That's right asshole, you. You want to argue about it?" Manny looked around him, appealing for help, none was forthcoming.

  "Aw shit!" was all he said, dumping his pack to fish out a coil of rope.

  "Maybe there's a better way." Someone said out of the darkness. Bonner looked round at the speaker.

  "All right wise guy, tell me how?"

  "Simple, dig a deep trench in this sand from the lake to the shaft. That section of floor and wall looks none too hard, we blow the rock out of the way and flood the tunnel system down there." There was silence for a moment as everyone thought it over.

  "That's not a bad idea. We've got enough plastic to do the job right and dump this whole dam lake down there,” someone commented.

  "That should settle that fucker once and for all." They all looked at Bonner, waiting for his reply. Bonner hated it. To shoot, or kill a man was one thing, but to drown him, that was something else.

  "How the hell are we going to prove he's dead?" He said a last. Hoping he could change their minds.

  "It won’t matter? Old 'Rolass' will never know. If we say he's dead, he's dead."

  "I still don't like it. What if he turns up later?"

  "We just say we made a mistake,” came the reply. "What the hell, all I want is to get out of this fucking place."

  "What's the matter Bonner?! You in love with this guy?"

  "That's right!" Someone echoed. Bonner knew he was losing control, which was tenuous at best, if he said no he'd have a fight on his hands and they’d do it anyway.

  "All right! Blow the fucking wall." He said, disgusted with himself and the whole deal.

  * * * * * *

  "You all right?" Mike asked, or tried to. He couldn't hear his own words, let alone her reply. Reaching in his patch pocket, he pulled out a flash light and flipped it on. For a moment, the light was blinding as it cut a path through the rock dust and darkness.

  'Christ almighty! It's a wonder that didn't bring the roof down on us,' he thought. Kat shivered in his arms, and he recognized the first signs of panic. Digging the base of the flashlight into the sand, he pointed it straight up, playing light over the tunnel. Then held her tight in his arms, holding her close.

  "It's all right,” he said, looking at her and mouthing the words.

  He knew that, like himself, she couldn't hear anything. That made it even more frightening. Panic is funny in the way affects different people in different ways. If you can grab it and hold on, you can control it. If you let go for an instant you're lost.

  "It's all right! Were safe. Sh.sh.sh." He soothed.

  Kat gritted her teeth, unable to hear but understanding his meaning. The black red darkness of panic retreated, held at bay by force of will. At last, she could hear him through the ringing in her ears and held him tight, her one link to reality.

  "It's all right Kat! We're alive and unhurt! We have light and air."

  "Mike...Mike...Mike." She clung to him like a drowning man clings to a bit of flotsam, desperately wanting and needing reassurance.

  "Kat! Listen to me. Don't give in to the panic! You can do it."

  "Mike I'm scared." She began to shiver again.

  "Kat! I need you to do something for me."

  "Do something? I don't understand." Her mind was fuzzy, unable to think straight.

  "Yes Kat, I need you to make me a cup of coffee." He knew he had to get her mind on something normal, something unusual in this situation, normal otherwise.

  "Coffee?" Sh
e said, almost crying, a hysterical edge to her laugh.

  "Yes coffee, I need you to make me a cup of coffee." With his foot, he dragged his pack over and quickly reached inside, dragging out a small propane stove, cups, coffee, and the other items she'd need.

  "Coffee?! You want a cup of coffee now!" Her giggling laugh had an edge to it, telling Mike how slim the thread was holding her back from panic. “You want coffee at a time like this?"

  "Right. Can you do that while I have a look round?" It slowly dawned on Kat what he was trying to do. She gritted her teeth and nodded.

  "Yes. Yes, I can. You go have a look round while I make the coffee." She pushed him away, motioning for him to go.

  Kat concentrated on each single step in turn. First, she picked up the propane stove with shaking hands and carefully screwed the small bottle into the bottom. It took three tries before she got the bottle screwed on properly. Lighting the flame, she filled the G.I issue canteen cup with water and placed it over the flame to boil. She kept her concentration on what she was doing, not daring to look up at the rock walls around her. Doing that would cause her to start panicking again. That done she flattened out an area of the sandy floor and placed a cloth over it. She then proceeded to lay out two cups, two spoons, one bag of sugar, and a tin of cream. She scooped a large teaspoon of powdered coffee into each cup, feeling her nerves settle down as she worked.