Her arms were wrapped around the ladder, and she clung tightly as it swayed in the darkness. Afraid to move, afraid to breathe. The dark petrified her. “I can’t do this.”
“Keep going,” Griffin said.
“I can’t.”
“I really don’t want to die down here.”
And neither did she. Do it. Do it. Do it. She lowered one foot, found the next rung, even in the dark. She could do this. She could. Hand down, foot down.
“There!”
Sydney looked up, was blinded by the light.
She felt the rope around her waist tighten.
“Take my hand.” And then she felt Griffin’s strong grasp as he took her hand in his. “Feel for the ledge with your foot.”
“I can’t see.”
“Trust me.”
“I don’t even trust myself.” But she stuck her foot out, tapped, felt the ground beneath her feet, allowed him to pull her toward him.
A shot cracked through the cavern, echoed off the walls around them.
Griffin pushed her to the ground, away from the edge. Whoever was after them would have to climb down the ladder to get them, unless she and Griffin made it easy by standing out toward the edge of the ledge.
Something they weren’t about to do.
“Come on out, we’ll spare your lives.”
Laughter, then another voice saying, “I have a much better idea.”
“The ladder,” she cried, realizing the men were pulling it up and out of the cistern.
Griffin held her arm. “Stay back,” he whispered. The ladder scraped against the ledge, then the mouth of the cistern.
“Leave them,” she heard from above. “Let’s go after the others up in the tunnel. After all, they know what we want. To follow the skull and crossbones.”
“We come back in a few years, and make crossbones out of the two down there?”
More laughter, and the sound of receding footsteps. Then a shout followed by several shots fired.
And then nothing.
Griffin sat side-by-side with Fitzpatrick, the darkness surrounding them completely, the quiet almost deafening. The cold started to seep in, now that the adrenaline rush had left, and he felt Sydney shivering next to him. It had been at least ten minutes since Adami’s men-no, not Adami’s men-whoever they were had pulled up the ladder, leaving them down here on the ledge of the cistern. And seemingly an eternity since they’d heard the gunshots that could only mean one thing. The others were dead. And even if a rescue team arrived, how would anyone know where to find them?
“You okay?” he whispered.
“Fine…” Her breathing was strained, but at least she wasn’t shivering anymore. “I’m fine.”
“Let’s hope the others made it out safely.” His words rang hollow. He’d lost two friends, Alessandra and Tasha, because he’d let his guard down, and he’d failed to rescue Tex. And now the professor and Xavier and Alfredo-never mind the mess he and Sydney were sitting in the midst of. He knew better than to let outsiders in. He should never have let Sydney leave the States. He should have marched her off the plane the moment he saw her walk on. “Maybe they’re getting help now.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“What?”
“November. Giustino said you had a hard time with November. What happened?”
He didn’t answer right away, wasn’t sure he wanted to. Still, she deserved to know. “Two years ago, I was on a mission with another operative. I did something I shouldn’t have. I gave up the lead. We were ambushed, and that agent was killed.”
“Because of a decision you made or a decision he made?”
“She.”
“She…Your girlfriend?”
“My wife.”
“Your-I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
“We hadn’t been together in a while. She’d just filed for divorce.”
He could tell she didn’t know what to say. And who would? Especially now, with history seeming to repeat itself. Ambushed.
He leaned back against his pack, closed his eyes, could almost see his wife’s face. Almost. “I still loved her. I think that’s why I let her take over, just to show her that I-” He took a deep breath, tried to shake off the anger, the hurt, the helplessness. She was pregnant. Three months, according to the autopsy. They hadn’t slept together in far longer than that, and now, to this day, he wondered who the father was, if he even knew what he’d lost…“Dumas found us. She was dead. I would have been if not for him.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
They sat there for a couple of minutes, not saying anything after that, and then Sydney said, “I’m sorry about everything.”
“For what?”
“For Tex. For leading us into this hole. For everything.”
“It’s my fault. I’m the one who let this happen from the very beginning.”
“How so?”
“I knew the moment I walked into Tasha’s office, right after she called you to arrange that dinner date, that something was wrong. She was jumpy. Not like herself at all. Just like you said she was at dinner. I should have done all the things you thought about. Talked to her, found out what was wrong.”
She sat up straight, drew away from him. Silence reigned. Then, after several seconds, “You knew she had called me?”
“I just said that.”
“You knew?”
He tried to figure out what had changed, what he’d said. “We discussed this at the safe house. I told you about Tasha when you asked-”
“I can’t believe this.”
“Believe what?”
“Do you realize how long I blamed myself for her death? And Tex? The guilt I’ve carried around for the two of them?”
“Now you know how I feel.”
She stiffened. “You played me.”
“We needed you.”
“You could have asked.”
“We needed your skills, without the Bureau knowing the particulars.”
“I would have done anything for her.”
“Would you have? Even had you known it was regarding a black op?”
She was silent. He suspected not. And perhaps curiosity finally got the better of her, as she asked, “Tasha was part of ATLAS?”
“Yes.”
“A government agent?”
“Yes.”
“Alessandra?”
“No. But her father was aware of our operations. Dumas was the voice of the Vatican when it came to ATLAS, and reported to her father. Not Alessandra’s part. Her father wasn’t aware that she knew ATLAS even existed. She was the one who insisted her father not be told. She was adamant.”
“But you’re going to tell him?”
“When we figure out who killed her, yes.”
But in the silence that followed, he wondered if he’d ever get the chance. “You’re a goddamned son of a bitch,” Sydney said.
“I think we’ve established that.”
“No. We haven’t. Nor have we established that if you’d just told me in the beginning, Tasha might have come forward with what she was hiding. Which means I might have stayed home, because she wouldn’t be dead, and I wouldn’t have spent all my time searching for the identity of a victim you already knew the identity of.”
“We didn’t know it was Alessandra.”
“Well, you suspected. I would never have gone to the Smithsonian, the guard would never have followed me, and Tex would still be safe and sound, because Adami’s damned cousin wouldn’t have recognized me at the party, because he saw me at the hotel when he came after you, because I would be home for Thanksgiving vacation. Where I should be right now, picking out the turkey from the butcher. In a few days, they’ll be sitting around the table, wondering what happened to me. I was stupid for getting involved. I went to Quantico for a reason, to hide, to make sure I didn’t endanger anyone else, and I’ve gone and done the very thing I wanted to avoid.”
He heard her moving, was
certain she’d crossed her arms. “But I’d be dead.”
“You don’t know that,” she said.
“He recognized you because you saved me. And we know Adami was searching for this third key, because you had the instinct to move closer and listen in. And what happened to Tex was my fault not yours.”
“How so?”
“I failed to convince him to follow my orders.”
“Yeah? Well whose fault is it we’re sitting in a damned hole and can’t get out?”
“Who’s to say we wouldn’t be dead if we had followed the others up the tunnel? Maybe you saved our lives. Again. Have you thought of that?”
She didn’t answer, and he knew immediately that she was thinking of the others. The shots fired, that they didn’t make it.
He reached over, found her hand, held it in his, and realized she was getting cold again. He rubbed her fingers in his, and when she tried to pull away, he said, “You need to stay warm, preserve your strength.”
She didn’t argue, didn’t pull away this time. Not that it eased his guilt any. He might have been able to do something to help the others, but somehow he’d allowed Sydney to convince him to go against his instincts. He’d placed his trust in her and he’d let the others suffer as a result. And once again came the thought that history was repeating itself.
He had no one to blame but himself.
He didn’t trust anyone else, she didn’t trust herself. They were quite a pair. “I take it you have real issues with the dark?”
When she didn’t answer, he wondered if she was ever going to speak to him again, until a few moments later, she said, “If I told you I sleep with a night-light on, would you laugh?”
“Doubt it. Why?”
“Nightmares. From when my father was killed.”
He recalled her dossier, the background he’d done on her. She’d been only thirteen when she’d witnessed her father’s murder. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m afraid of enclosed spaces. Claustrophobic.”
“You’re kidding?”
“Do I look like the sort who kids about that stuff?”
“Can’t tell. It’s too damned dark.”
“The only reason I was able to climb into this hole is because it’s huge. If it was small, enclosed, you’d be on your own. The narrow tunnels we came down through? Just about killed me to do it. And back in the columbarium? In that tunnel underneath the steps? Trust me. I was not doing well.”
“Great. I don’t like the dark, and you don’t like enclosed spaces. You know what that means? We’re up shit creek.”
He couldn’t help but smile.
“You think we can recover that ladder?”
“I’d rather not have my head blown off, trying to find the damned thing.”
“You think they’re up there?”
“Who knows.”
“I think they think we’re toast, so why bother.”
“Maybe we are,” he said.
“I’m not ready to die…Wasn’t Xavier talking about how soft tufo is? Maybe we can dig our way out. Assuming you can handle climbing through some skinny tunnel.”
“I really, really don’t like enclosed spaces.”
“Now you’re starting to sound like me.” Sydney switched on her light.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for a shovel. Or maybe something we can toss up, try to hook that ladder.” She reached for her pack, then stood, slowly. “Uh, Griffin? You might want to take a look at this.”
He turned. Saw what she saw. What they hadn’t had time to see when they were being shot at. The rock behind them wasn’t the solid mass of tufo it appeared to be. In fact, had Sydney not moved to the side, shone her light just so in looking for the shovel, they might never have noticed the outcropping that hid the tunnel behind it. “You think that arrow you saw in the cavern above was pointing to this?”
“Xavier said he looked down here. There was nothing,” she said. “But if he continued down that ladder past this ledge into the cistern, he could very well have missed this. The ledge isn’t very big, and from where the ladder was situated, you’d never see this.”
“Beats trying to dig our way out.” Griffin scooped up his pack, and followed her between the outcropping and the tunnel hidden in the V of it. “One problem I see.”
“What’s that?”
“It barely looks big enough to fit through.”
“Yeah, well unless you have a better idea…”
He wasn’t kidding about the tight spaces. He hated them. But he’d trained himself over the years to get past the absurd fear that he’d get stuck. He would have never made the ATLAS team otherwise. And hell if he was going to let Sydney show him up. “After you.”
“By all means. Brawn before beauty.”
He hesitated, took a deep breath, then entered. Though tall enough, it was narrow, so narrow in places that Griffin’s shoulders hit the walls, and he had to turn to his side to pass through. The entire passageway was much rougher than the tunnels off the cavern above, as though this particular area had been excavated more hastily, and perhaps, judging from the outcropping that hid it, on the sly to keep it from being discovered. At one point, they had to snake through on their bellies, and he concentrated on his breathing, the better to keep his mind off the confining passageway. “Hard to imagine anyone going to this much trouble for a burial chamber.”
“If we get out of here,” Sydney said from behind him, “I never want to be in another fifty-degree underground chamber again.”
“I’ll second that.” After several more feet, the floor in front of him dropped sharply into a wide cavern that looked like a massive honeycomb of stalactites and stalagmites.
He crawled out, slid down a few feet to the cavern floor. Sydney did the same.
“Amazing,” she said. “I thought water seepage made the columns, but these look too uniform, like they’re all carved.”
She was about to take a step forward when he reached out, stopped her. “Don’t move.”
“What’s wrong?”
He pointed between the columns into the interior, his headlamp sweeping across strangely shaped mounds. It took several moments for his sight to adjust, to see what was beneath the tufo dust that covered everything. The realization of what he was seeing hit him. Urns and chests, each strategically placed around the center columns. “Hell,” he said, not daring to let go of Sydney’s arm.
“But that means the map has to be here.”
“Yeah? And we never discovered the second key. So if it is all true…”
One false step and they were dead.
34
Francesca tried to catch her breath, leaning against the rough wall of the tunnel, while Xavier and Alfredo felt around with their hands. The passageway they’d taken led up, and they’d run the entire way.
“What exactly are you looking for?” she asked, her voice low.
“I just don’t understand it,” Xavier said.
“Understand what?” she replied, not liking the worry in his voice. She had enough to worry about right now, like what had happened to Sydney and Griffin. Were they still alive? Bleeding and injured down in the cavern? The two agents had sacrificed their own safety so the three of them could get away. But how the hell were they going to get help to them if they couldn’t avoid being shot by the men who were chasing them?
“There should be a sign,” Xavier said. “A skull and crossbones that tells me this is the right passageway, just like the one in the tunnel below that led us up here.”
“You mean this might not be the right way?”
Alfredo slammed his hand against the stone wall. “It’s certainly looking that way.”
“Calm down,” Xavier said. “Maybe the signs change. Maybe it’s not supposed to be a skull and crossbones. Maybe that’s one of the things we’re supposed to learn.”
“For God’s sake,” Francesca said. “This is not the time to make that discovery. We should have known this before we
even set out.”
“Yeah?” Xavier whispered harshly. “And when was that? Between the five minutes I’d learned you wanted to meet me and the announcement that Alessandra was murdered? You’ve had a hell of a lot longer to look at the flash drive she sent, so get off my case.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “What can I do to help?”
“Not a lot. By all calculations, this should lead to the passageway that di Sangro plotted out.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure where it’s not, and it’s not here.”
“Actually,” Alfredo said, “if I had to guess, this passageway leads right back to the basilica. We’ve gone in one big giant circle.”
“I wonder if that’s what Sydney saw down in the main cavern.”
Xavier stopped pressing on the wall. “What are you talking about?”
“Right before those men shot at us, she called Griffin over. I think she realized something was off down there.”
“Well,” Alfredo said. “Whatever it was, we have to be grateful, or more than likely we’d all be dead,” he said, as he and Xavier continued to push on the rock wall with their gloved hands. “We’d have been sitting ducks if those men had followed us up here right away. All we can do now is hope that your agent friends were able to fight them off and discovered the right passage, and we can get the hell out of here before those guys find us.”
A scuffling sound echoing up from the passage below sent her heart racing. “They’re getting closer.”
“Look there!” Xavier said, pointing his flashlight beam toward a crevice in the wall, narrow at the base but widening as it rose. The light bounced off the tunnel walls into a ceiling that seemed to disappear into a deep blackness. “We’ll make them think we’re gone.”
Alfredo began climbing up the V-shaped crevice. He reached down for Francesca’s hand, pulled her up, as Xavier boosted her from the floor, then followed. Inching their way inward and upward, they didn’t speak. Suddenly Xavier reached over, gripped her arm, his fingers digging into her in warning.
She needed none. She heard the two men coming up the tunnel, and she held her breath, praying they wouldn’t hear anything. Beside her, Alfredo’s foot slipped, knocking loose a bit of tufo that skittered down the crevice into the tunnel below, and she thought this was it. They were caught.
The Bone Chamber Page 33