“Whatever you say,” MacD said. “But Ah’m going to keep an eye on you.” He raised the crossbow.
“Keep an eye on my six,” she said, pointing in the other direction. “Those gunshots may have drawn unwanted attention.”
He nodded, and she crept forward.
She went fifty yards and stopped, still far out of range of a person not trained in how to use a handgun.
“Miss,” she called out. “My name is Raven Malloy. My team and I aren’t here to hurt you.”
There was no response, but now Raven could see a little bit of a black jumpsuit moving behind a palm tree.
“I know you’re scared. I would be, too. We know that you’ve been stuck on this island for a long time. We saw the plane. But you’ll be safer with us than you would be with the friends of that man who was about to kill you.”
“Stay away!” the woman called back. “I know about Bedtime!”
Raven moved a little closer. “I don’t know what that means. We want to help you.”
“You’re here to kill us all!”
“We don’t want to kill anyone.”
“You killed that guard.”
“My squadmate did that with good reason,” Raven said. “Wasn’t the guard going to shoot you?”
“Well . . . yes.”
“Then I’d say we just happened to have good timing. Come out, and we’ll take you home.”
There was a rustle of bushes, and the woman emerged holding the pistol at her side. She was of Indian descent, but she spoke with an American accent.
“Either you’re lying and you’d find me eventually because I have no place to go on this speck of an island or you’re telling the truth, which makes more sense because you could have easily shot us both back there. Am I wrong to hope?”
Raven walked forward, her weapon slung across her back. “You’re not wrong. What’s your name?”
“Lyla Dhawan. Where am I?”
“An island west of India.”
Lyla paused as that sunk in. “But your accent isn’t Indian. Are you American?”
Raven nodded and took the pistol before shaking her hand.
“Who are you people? Special Forces?”
“Something like that,” Raven said. “We got a tip that something wasn’t right on the island, so we came to check it out. We were told it was inhabited by a hostile indigenous tribe.”
“Apparently, they died off in a disease outbreak ten years ago, but nobody found out. My captors let the Indian government think it was still populated by natives.”
MacD emerged from the jungle. “It won’t be populated by anyone much longer. We should get going . . . Hi, Ah’m MacD.”
Lyla was surprised to see him appear out of nowhere, but she said, “Hello.” Then a stricken expression suddenly crossed her face. “Oh, no! That was your friend back on the beach, wasn’t it? I killed him!”
“I doubt that,” Raven said. “Let’s go make sure.”
The two of them escorted Lyla back to the beach, keeping their heads on the swivel for any more guards.
When they reached the others, Juan was on his feet, walking toward them with Linc and Eddie.
“My fault,” Juan said. “I don’t look like a rescuer at the moment, do I?”
Raven introduced Lyla to them.
“I’m so sorry about shooting you,” Lyla said. “I didn’t know you were the good guys.”
“You’re not a bad shot,” Juan said, massaging the area over a hole in his vest. “One of them got me right in the chest. Luckily, my body armor is rated for pistol fire.” He said nothing about the slice another bullet had taken out of his collar just inches from his neck.
“You mentioned something called Bedtime,” Raven said to Lyla. “What did you mean?”
“It’s a protocol for eliminating all evidence on the island of what we’ve been doing here. That guard was about to begin carrying it out when you saved me.”
“Then we need to get you out of here,” Juan said.
“Those gunshots might be bringing more guards this way,” Eddie said as he watched the path from the jungle.
“Not right away,” Lyla said. “They’ll probably think it was me being executed. We probably have a little time before they send someone out to check.”
“Is it just you on the island,” Juan said, “or are there other prisoners as well in that building?”
“Building? Oh, the shed.” Lyla nodded. “There are nineteen of us here. They’re going to be killed if we don’t get them out of the facility.”
Linc looked at her with a puzzled expression. “Facility? You mean, they’ve been keeping nineteen of you in that little shed for over a year?”
Lyla shook her head. “The shed is only the top part. It’s where they keep the storage containers and tractor. There’s a whole underground complex on this island. And if I understand the Bedtime protocol correctly, they’re going to blow up the entire place with the prisoners still inside.”
TWENTY-TWO
Juan knew they couldn’t wait for reinforcements from the Oregon, though he had Max start bringing the ship in closer. No need for stealth much longer.
“How many guards are in there?” he asked Lyla. She was sitting cross-legged, still dazed from her near-death experience, and Juan knelt in front of her. MacD and Linc kept an eye on the path, while Eddie and Raven were on their knees on either side of the freed prisoner.
“Fifteen,” Lyla said. “Or fourteen now.”
“Not a great ratio,” Eddie said.
“Anyone else?”
She shook her head. “Just the eighteen other prisoners. Sometimes we get visitors, but not often. All our work is done on the computer, and we communicate by text and videoconferencing with the engineers on the project through a dedicated satellite link. If we don’t perform the way the engineers on the other end want, they tell the warden, a nasty Russian soldier type named Fyodor Yudin.”
She gave them the basics of how the underground facility was laid out. There were three levels accessed by a service elevator and stairs. The first and highest level under the shed was the control center and storage. The second level held the common areas like the computer room and the mess hall. All of the living quarters were on the third level down. Power was provided by a diesel generator inside the shed.
“I’m going to have you draw us a map of the facility,” Juan said. “Then I’ll have Raven escort you back to our vessel.”
“What?” Lyla said. “No, I’m going with you.”
Juan shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. You already had one close call today.”
“Listen, I appreciate you rescuing me, I really do. But I have friends in there. If we don’t go get them now, they’re all going to die. Yudin is probably already wondering what happened to my guard.”
Eddie lifted the radio he’d taken from the guard. “She’s right. They just called and told him to get back on the double.”
“Besides,” Lyla said, “the other prisoners might not trust you if I’m not there.”
Juan didn’t like it, but she was right. They’d have to bring her along if they wanted to do this quickly.
“Okay, but Raven doesn’t leave your side. Understood?”
Lyla nodded.
“All right,” Juan said. “We saw a biometric scanner next to the door. Do we need to bring the guard with us?”
“They never put that into use,” Lyla said. “I guess they didn’t see a need. The place is built to keep us in, not keep us out.”
“So how do we get in?” Raven asked.
“There’s a camera at the door. They open it from the central control room.”
Eddie tilted his head at the dead guard. “So much for using his handprint to get us in.”
“And I don’t think we’re going to fool a camer
a with that hole in his face,” Juan said. MacD had already taken his crossbow bolt back and cleaned it in the surf. “Nobody has ever made an escape attempt before?”
“I have,” Lyla said. “Twice.”
“Did you get out of the building?”
“Yes, but I didn’t get very far.”
“They must have come after you quickly. How many?”
“Four or five guards came out both times to search for me.”
Eddie looked at Juan. “That would even the odds a bit.”
“Couldn’t hurt,” Juan said. Then to Lyla, “What about the large garage door on the shed?”
“Also opened from the inside, I think.”
“And the doors inside the facility?”
“Only the control room and the prisoners’ quarters are locked. We’re monitored closely the rest of the time, and they’re always armed. One of the passengers tried to wrest a gun away from a guard one time and he . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“We’ll get them out,” Juan said. “But we’re going to need your help getting in there.”
“Anything,” Lyla said.
Juan stood, helped her up, and handed her the radio. “When I tell you, start calling for help.”
* * *
—
Fyodor Yudin was glad to be finally getting off this rock. Jhootha Island had been a prison for him almost as much as for the airplane passengers. When Boris Volanski had told him about the warden job, he’d declined until he was told the fortune he’d be earning. But the isolation had begun to wear on him, despite the beautiful weather and tropical sun. He’d be happy to get back to the borscht, vodka, and nightlife of his native Moscow even if it meant enduring subzero temperatures six months a year.
Now the only things standing between him and freedom were Lyla Dhawan and the boat coming to pick them up. Once he had her locked up in her cell like the others, he could set the timer on the self-destruct mechanism that would destroy the entire prison and all evidence of what had gone on there. The only item remaining intact would be the airplane sitting in the jungle, but there was nothing incriminating on it that would lead back to his employers.
The prison’s control center was bustling with activity as the guards prepared the Bedtime protocol. Like Yudin, they were eager to leave and get back to civilization. The warden stood behind the operator seated at the central control panel while guards streamed in and out of the two doors at either end of the long room. It doubled as a briefing area and also held desks for the officers. With almost all the prisoners secured already, the rest of the guards were in their quarters packing up their belongings.
Yudin was frustrated that he had this one loose end to tie up.
“Call him again,” he commanded.
The German guard with the headset nodded and said, “Come in, zero-six. I repeat, come in, zero-six.” They used only call signs over communications channels.
Yudin glanced at the monitor showing the feed from the camera above the outside door. There was no sign of them.
Static buzzed from the overhead speakers. After a pause, the German said, “No response.”
“Yes, I know.”
Lyla Dhawan had been trouble before, but a single guard could handle her. There must have been a problem with the guard’s radio.
“Send someone to find out where they are and bring them back. Immediately.”
“Yes, sir.”
Before the German could summon another guard, the speakers crackled.
To Yudin’s surprise and annoyance, it was his prisoner’s voice. Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing to listen.
“To anyone who can hear this,” she said, “my name is Lyla Dhawan and I’m being held captive on an island. I don’t know the name of the island, so please respond and home in on this signal to find me.”
Yudin didn’t know how she got the radio away from her guard, but his carelessness meant he was not going to get off this island. It was unlikely that any vessels were close enough to pick up her SOS, but he wasn’t going to take any risks this close to getting away from Jhootha Island for good.
“Can you triangulate the signal?” Yudin asked.
“No, sir. But I know they were going to the beach on the northeast side of the island.”
“Then take four guards with you right now and bring them both back here.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you!”
The German stood and went over to a rack holding an array of assault rifles. He motioned to four guards who’d been listening to the exchange to join him. “Rules of Engagement?”
Yudin didn’t really care what happened to Lyla Dhawan at this point. “You have permission to kill her, but make sure you bring the body back inside . . . Move!”
The guards snatched weapons off the rack and ran.
TWENTY-THREE
Juan knelt beside MacD, who lay behind a bush, his eye glued to the scope of his crossbow. Eddie and Linc were to their right with their hands on a nylon rope. Raven and Lyla crouched to the left, concealed by the foliage as well. All of them were out of sight of the door to the island facility’s shed. Smoke curled up at the far end of the path that led to the beach. Linc and Eddie had set the fire to get the exiting guards, once they saw it, moving faster.
Lyla raised the radio to speak again, but Juan waved her to stop when he saw the personnel door flung open. A phalanx of five guards ran out, weapons at the ready. The lead guard noticed the smoke immediately and yelled for the others to follow him, which they did at a sprint.
The spring-loaded door slowly began to close as they pounded down the path.
A barbed titanium bolt was nocked in MacD’s crossbow. The end of the bolt was lashed to the rope.
The door would shut in seconds, but Juan waited until the guards exited the clearing and were out of earshot.
He whispered, “Now.”
MacD fired, and the bolt shot through the clearing and embedded itself in the edge of the door with a sharp thump. The guards were running so hard that they didn’t hear it.
While MacD reloaded with the new bolt that Juan handed him, Eddie and Linc rapidly reeled in the rope until it was taut, holding the door ajar just before it latched.
With a practiced hand, MacD cocked the crossbow again and laid down the new bolt.
He aimed at the camera above the door and fired.
The bolt flew true and smashed into the camera housing. It shattered upon impact.
“Let’s go,” Juan said.
They raced across the clearing, and Juan yanked the door open while Eddie and Linc covered him. He went inside with his P90 submachine gun to his shoulder, sweeping the area for any hostiles.
To his right a red shipping container sat on a trailer hitched to a huge modern tractor with six-foot-tall rear tires. The entire assembly had been backed into the shed. The tractor was far bigger and more powerful than would be needed to pull the trailer, but it moved containers quickly back and forth to the pier to transfer them as quickly as possible from the Triton Star. A second container was on the other side of the first one. There was plenty of room at the back of the shed for unloading.
To his left was the rumbling generator and a large tank with drums of fuel stacked next to it. The stench of diesel fumes was strong.
In front of Juan was the stairwell access and a large service elevator perpendicular to the stairwell with its doors closed. So far, no one was investigating the now obscured external camera. Lyla was sure there were no other cameras inside the facility except the ones in the hallways of each level and in the computer workroom.
He waved the others inside.
“MacD,” Juan said, “you stay here and cover our six in case the guards outside come back. Eddie, take Raven, Linc, and Lyla down the stairs and block the doors. I’ll take care of the elevator.”
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While MacD remained at the outer door and the others went down the stairs, Juan took a small pry bar from his vest and forced the elevator doors apart. He looked down and saw that the cab was one level below him.
He took a small container from his pocket and opened it, revealing gray putty that was a small amount of C-4 plastic explosive. He braced himself on the support girders and reached across to the hoisting cable, pressing the putty around it. He stuck a small remote detonator in it and climbed back out.
He went down the stairs and found Eddie and the others already on the second level. Eddie was using a syringe to coat the lock and the door seam with a fast-acting all-purpose epoxy that would bond it shut so tightly nothing short of a hydraulic ram would open it. Only the syringes of acetone they carried as part of their standard shore operations kit would dissolve the glue. The first level had already been sealed the same way. Now none of the guards would be able to sneak up behind them.
When he was done, they went down to the third level, where the prisoners’ quarters were located. Juan stopped before opening the door.
“Once we go through, they’ll see us, so we won’t have much time,” he said.
“There’s a door to a second stairwell at the north end of the hall,” Lyla said. “It doesn’t go all the way to the surface, but it goes up to the control room level.”
The warden would try to send reinforcements that way. Juan only had to look at Eddie, who nodded that he would seal the north stairway as well.
“How many guards stationed on this level?” Juan asked Lyla, who looked both nervous and excited.
“Usually, just one. He’ll have the keys to all the cells. They keep it low-tech down here to save energy for the computers and communications systems.”
“Once we’re in, they’ll know the facility is compromised, so we’ll have to move fast. Everyone ready?”
They all nodded. Raven had her hand on Lyla’s shoulder. While Eddie handled the other door, Linc would take down the guard inside.
Shadow Tyrants--Clive Cussler Page 15