Marina was already several yards away, and Gabe jammed the weapon into the waistband of his jeans.
The look on her face when he approached her had been one of intensity and concentration. She was standing there like she owned the world. Her hands thrust into the pockets of her jacket, eyes clear and bright, and her long, slim nose tipped red by the chill breeze.
And here he was, following the damn woman for a hike around some hills when he should be calling Bergstrom. Maybe they’d cracked Bran and George by now and there were some facts to go on.
He looked toward where he’d last seen Marina, and she was gone. He stepped up the pace and approached the base of one of the small hills.
“Tire tracks,” he heard her call, and indeed there were the two narrow strips of pressed-down grass that indicated a vehicle’s passage. The tracks were on the far end of the field from where their Land Rover was parked, explaining why they hadn’t noticed them.
The direction of the trail was easy to follow, and they hurried along between the two tire lines as it wound around one of the hills.
The far sides of the hills were rocky and jagged with shale; more like small mountains than the hillocks cupping the meadow. The tire tracks led right into a throng of trees that grew between the vee of two hills.
Marina looked at Gabe and put her hands on her hips. “I’ll bet you the entire Bond DVD collection that there’s a cave in there.”
He looked toward the low-growing, scrubby pines. “This is your bailiwick and I’m not betting. You’re right.” He resisted the urge to pull her back and allow him to go first; somehow they’d evolved from an expert protecting a civilian to equal partners. Besides, she wouldn’t go for it anyway.
Marina found the narrow passageway that whatever vehicle it had been, had gone through. They followed the trail, stepping on a matt of rust-colored pine needles that had probably been collecting there for centuries; millennia, perhaps. Only yards beyond the trees a crust of grey rock jagged from the hill, and as they approached, Marina edged up next to it.
Gabe read her intent and sidled up behind her, against the rock, and she felt his fingers touch her wrist as she began to peer around the corner. She peered around the outcropping of rock and found exactly what she’d expected. Although every instinct in her body wanted to hurry into the cave, she waited; and not just because Gabe tightened his fingers in warning.
They waited and silence continued to reign. Even the sound of the breeze rushing through the tree branches made little noise. Finally, she felt Gabe move behind her, loosening his grip, and pushing past her. She let him go. After all, he had the gun.
Close behind, she followed him into the tall narrow crevice, one that would have been hard-put for a vehicle to enter, but was more than generous for the two of them. The cave opening was nearly ten feet high and about six feet wide. Grass grew right up to the entrance, then straggled off as the dirt and rocks took over from the eruption of the small mountain.
Inside, it was black and silent as caves are wont to be, and Marina pulled her flashlight from the clip at her waist. Cupping her hand over it to dim the light, she turned it on. The bare glow did little to illuminate the room, but it burned an eerie reddish-orange cast on her fingers and palm.
Cautiously, she opened her hand and allowed more light to spill in; when Gabe gave a short jerk of a nod, she released the light completely and looked around. It was a cave, one similar to the hundreds she’d explored. Damp and cold, dark, rough, and musty-smelling.
The chamber elongated near the left side of the back, and as Marina stepped closer, she saw that it went off into blackness. Gabe followed behind as she started that way—the only option for exploration unless they wanted to go back out the way they came.
“We don’t have the right equipment,” she said in a low voice, “but we can explore a little ways.”
“You mean all those caves I explored in my backyard when I was growing up, I did it all wrong because I didn’t have the equipment?”
They walked along the slightly-downward passage. Marina felt inclined to take her time, noticing the character of the cave: its feel, its dampness, the jagged edges and how it made her feel, while she felt Gabe practically breathing down her neck. He was in a hurry to get back to the Land Rover, but she was enjoying the heck out of this, and wouldn’t be hurried.
Besides. Her instincts told her they were on the right path of something.
Until the tunnel narrowed, and shortened, and narrowed and shortened more until they were nearly crouching.
“Okay, game’s over, let’s go,” Gabe said. A combination of annoyance and smugness tinged his voice. “Can’t go any further.”
Damn.
She stopped. He was right. There was nowhere else to go.
“All right. Let’s go call Bergstrom.” She turned and gave him the flashlight so he could lead the way out and started after him. Marina had taken two steps when she stopped and whirled around. There had to be something there. She could nearly reach out and touch it.
Gabe kept going, his shadow falling back from the beam of light; but she didn’t call after him. He’d only grunt and grumble, and if she didn’t find anything, she wouldn’t have to listen to it. If she did … .well, he’d come back after her.
She dug into the depths of her front jeans pocket and pulled out that handy little squeeze-light she’d recovered from the truck when George and Bran had first kidnapped them.
Good grief—was it two days ago? It seemed like forever.
She beamed the powerful light around and shimmied herself into the narrowing end of the tunnel, feeling blindly with her hands. If this really was a James Bond movie, she’d find a passageway, or a hidden panel that opened a door further into the cave.
But nothing. Absolutely nothing.
She was just about to call out to Gabe when she heard him coming back down the passage. He must have realized she wasn’t behind him. He came around the corner and she opened her mouth to make the first wry comment that came to mind, but he lunged, and clapped a hand over her lips. His large body pushed her back, away from the corner, and she dropped her squeeze light. It bumped against her jeans as it fell.
“Someone’s out there.” His words, barely discernable, fed into her ear and she froze, closing her mouth under his fingers, her hand caught against his chest. She stepped back as if she could merge into the stones.
“How many?” she breathed in a barely audible voice. “Who?”
She felt him shake his head against her hair. They pressed back against the wall and listened, but Marina couldn’t hear anything. She could feel the outline of his belt buckle against her hip, and the angle of a shoulder against her ear when Gabe shifted. He bumped into her as he reached to the back of his waistband and she felt him pull his gun out.
Silent, hardly daring to breathe, she bent her legs, lowered herself to the ground, scrabbling silently for that little light. She was damned if she was going to be without her only weapon.
After brushing over small pebbles and the damp cave floor, her fingers closed over the micro-light, just as Gabe grasped her arm to yank her upright. “Follow me.” His words puffed hot into her ear, and Marina had to tuck back an exclamation of surprise that he hadn’t told her to stay put like a good little woman.
She followed. Listening.
Weapon leading the way, Gabe moved like a wraith, silently and swiftly. Marina stayed close enough to touch his shirt, but far enough back that if he turned quickly, she’d be spared the black eye. They traveled quickly back through the tunnel and just before they reached the larger chamber, simultaneously paused … and waited.
It was dark; nothing to indicate anyone was in the large chamber. No voices, no noises. Just silence.
“They’re gone.”
“Did you see them? What did you hear? Were they Skalas?”
“I don’t know if they were Skalas, but I do know that they didn’t come from outside.”
She’d been right. �
�You watch the entrance. I’m going to search this chamber. There must be some other entrance or passage that we missed.” She felt Gabe ready to protest, but she drowned out anything he might have said with her low-voiced comment, “You’re the one with the gun and the good aim.”
She thought he might have muttered something unflattering about her, or about women in general, but Marina chose not to take offense. She was too edgy; they were close and she knew it. And so did he.
And it wasn’t long … in fact, if she’d paid closer attention when they first entered the large chamber, she would have seen it right off. Instead, the tunnel leading out of the main chamber had worked perfectly as a decoy for any curious party that might have visited the cave. A red herring, so to speak.
And if Gabe had not left her side when he did, and had not heard the others come along, and from where … .they would have been content to leave, believing they’d explored all there was to explore.
But when Marina found it, the raised pattern on the wall, cleverly designed to blend into the water-drip stains and striations in the rock, she knew it was what she’d been looking for. A large rock, too big for a human to move alone … .or at least, that was how it appeared. She touched it and it shifted at her barest movement.
“Gabe!” she called, still quiet.
He dashed a glance back out into the sunlight, then loped over to her.
She didn’t have to explain; a simple gesture, and he understood immediately. “They left the cave,” she confirmed. The last thing she wanted was a surprise on the other side.
“Yes. They left, and were talking about getting something to eat,” he added with a short laugh. Apparently even potential terrorists had human needs. “And something about getting to Detroit.”
“Detroit? Something to mention to Colin next time you call him. Let’s go.” She pushed the stone and it slid away, rolling as smoothly as if it were a horizontal elevator. “Holy shit. This is James Bond,” she breathed.
The comparison of the rock-door to an elevator was so appropriate, Marina gave a soft laugh as she stepped into a world of sleek metal and low, glowing lights. Everything reflected silvery and metallic, and looked as new and pristine as the inside of a new car engine.
“What the hell is it?” she asked, stepping toward a rounded bubble-sort of object that looked like a metal egg, popping from the stone wall.
The egg was approximately ten feet in radius, and appeared to be wedged into the cave wall itself. But when Marina squeezed her little light and shone it onto the egg, they saw that the opening in the stone wall was rimmed with metal. Looking down, she expected to see train tracks; for the egg reminded her of a round mining car.
But no tracks on the ground. Just damp, glistening metal on what had been the cave floor.
“There’s a door, or a hatch, it looks like.” Gabe had restuffed his gun back into the back of his jeans, and was smoothing his hands over the pod. Just as he spoke, a soft click sounded in the room, and the door popped away from its moorings and slid open—like the side door of a mini-van.
Marina didn’t hesitate. She followed him through the door and they found themselves in a small chamber with seats arranged in facing rows. The hair on the back of her neck lifted.
“It’s like a plane … or a limo.”
“The only thing it’s missing is a wet bar,” Gabe commented. “Or a bed.” He sat in one of the seats and flipped open a small door on the console next to it. “Here are the controls. Want to take it for a spin?”
“I’m game. Even if you can’t offer me any champagne.” She closed the door, and found the lock to secure it. Selecting a seat across from Gabe, she sat down and looked at him.
“We could end up anywhere,” he said. “There doesn’t appear to be much in the way of navigation. It’s just … red for stop, green to go … .and nothing else. You still on?”
“Yep.”
He began flicking switches. Lights dimmed, then courtesy lights flared near the floor. The only illumination was inside the console with the controls, and which was obviously meant for only one person to manage.
The egg, for lack of a better term, shifted and rumbled beneath their seats. It moved; Marina could barely tell it was moving, it was so smooth, but the hum and initial slight jerk reminded her of an elevator. Then it stopped, and they heard the sounds of metal moving, gliding; and then, with a dull thud, slamming into stillness.
It sounded like a door closing; and it came from behind Marina’s seat, from the direction in which the large chamber sat. She guessed that the pod had somehow moved out of the main large chamber and they were now in some other passage or channel.
There were no windows in their vehicle, so they couldn’t know for sure. All was still.
Then, a roar, muffled by the metal surrounding them, and the pod began to shimmy slightly. A soft hissing sound filled the air and Marina drew herself up sharply. Gas? Were they going to be poisoned? Drugged?
She started to unbuckle her seatbelt, then realized what it was. She’d heard it; experienced it often enough. It was oxygen … pressurizing the cabin, just like an airplane.
Suddenly, the shimmying settled into a smooth, dull rhythm, and without warning, the pod began to move. Fast. Smooth, but fast and surrounded by the dull roar. It sounded like a great sucking sound—what Ross Perot had long before fancifully described as the expected result of NAFTA.
Marina smirked at the thought, even though she had no idea where she was going. And if she would make it there alive.
They rode for some time. Perhaps thirty minutes; perhaps longer. Marina wasn’t sure, as her watch didn’t seem to be keeping time any longer.
“Should you stop this thing at some point?” she asked.
“There doesn’t appear to be any way to do so.”
“I thought you said there was red to stop and green to go.”
“I misspoke.”
Marina felt the sudden urge to throttle the man across from her. He looked entirely too smug—most likely at her consternation. “What happened to the red button?”
“It’s not red any more. It’s off. I don’t think there’s any way to stop this thing until it gets to wherever it’s going. Like an elevator.”
“In the elevators I’m used to, there are always emergency stop buttons.” Marina didn’t know why she was bothering. Perhaps he was just as anxious as she was, but he chose to show it with sarcasm. “Is there a fuel gauge? Something to indicate how long we might be zipping along here in limbo?”
“The only gauge shows something called pressure. And the dial jumped from the red to the green, which is the far side, as soon as we started moving. It hasn’t budged since.”
“That champagne is sounding good right about now,” Marina snapped.
“Might as well get some sleep. Wake me when we stop.” Gabe yawned, and he actually closed his eyes, letting his head drop back onto the headrest of his chair. Then he opened one dark blue eye. “Unless you can think of something better to do.”
Come to think of it, the chairs were pretty comfortable—and designed for sleeping, if the tilt of the headrest was any indication.
Well, if she couldn’t beat him, she could join him.
She let her head tip back and felt the curve of the headrest cup her skull. Might as well get some rest. Who knew what they would be up against when they finally stopped.
And if they didn’t stop, well, then, she’d go to her death without even knowing it.
* * *
They did stop, finally, and Marina came awake as the low rumble beneath her ebbed into stillness. The console lights dimmed and overhead lights came on. Gabe was awake too, and they looked at each other across the way. Marina unsnapped her seat belt.
“Please remain in your seats until the aircraft has come to a complete stop.”
Marina ignored Gabe’s attempt at humor, but she didn’t miss the edge in his voice—nor his spare, smooth action of picking up the gun and hefting it in his hand.
<
br /> “What time is it? How long have we been traveling?” she asked, knowing that his sat phone would be the best measure of accurate time.
Gabe flipped it open. “About three hours, total. It’s about 4:00 in the pm.”
The pod jerked rather more harshly than it had at the beginning of the journey, signaling that it wasn’t finished with its trip. Marina felt another, more minor jolt, and heard a low snick as something clicked into place, and then everything was deathly silent.
Marina flipped the seat belt straps away and stood as they clattered against the sides of her seat. The palms of her hands felt slick and her throat dry. Gabe, on the other hand, was already fiddling with the lock on the door as if he was a prisoner finally finding his escape.
Colleen Gleason Page 19