Poe

by Battles, Brett

  Still, it was her eyes that were familiar. Why?

  Another shout from down the tunnel broke into his thoughts.

  Alex. She had to be involved with whatever was going on down there.

  He grabbed the woman’s arm.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “You’re coming with me.”

  Whoever she was, he wasn’t about to let her get past him until he found out. But Alex came first.

  Pulling her after him, he headed toward the fight.

  “Please,” she said. “My leg. I cannot go so fast.”

  “You were doing all right a minute ago. Pick it up.”

  There was a small S curve in the tunnel. When they came out of it, there was a light about sixty feet away, low and focused on the wall. He could still hear the fight, but couldn’t see anyone.

  Then suddenly two shadows danced into the beam. They struggled with each other, twisting and turning, pulling and punching.

  “Alex!” he called out.

  The fighters, both women, paused and looked toward him.

  “Cooper?”

  Alex’s voice. But he wasn’t sure which one it had come from, their silhouettes far from distinct.

  Before he could answer her, the fight resumed.

  He let go of the blonde woman. “Don’t move,” he told her, and raised his gun.

  Because he couldn’t tell who was who, there was no way he could shoot Alex’s opponent, but he might be able to stop them for longer than a second.

  Aiming the barrel in the direction he’d just come, he pulled the trigger.

  The boom was deafening in the confines of the tunnel.

  As he’d hoped, the fight ceased again, the women pulling apart.

  He aimed the gun back toward them, making sure it could be seen in his flashlight beam.

  “You don’t want to make me do that again,” he shouted. “Alex, over here.”

  “Two seconds,” she said.

  A fist suddenly flew out from the woman on the left. The sound of flesh smacking flesh was loud even at this distance, as the punch connected with the other woman’s cheek. The woman on the right fell against the wall.

  “Okay, I’m done,” Alex said, and began walking toward Cooper and the blonde. She was about halfway to them when Cooper was able to make out the features of Alex’s face.

  “Looks like prison treated you well,” he said.

  “Regular holiday,” she told him. “I see you found my friend.”

  “So she was with you. El-Hashim?”

  “One and the same.”

  He hadn’t figured the terrorist money launderer for a blonde, but it looked like he—and a lot of other people—had been wrong.

  “She told me her name was Marie.”

  Alex stopped a few feet away, and gave Cooper a relieved smiled. “She woo you with French?”

  “French accent, anyway.”

  “She doesn’t have a French accent.”

  “Figures.” He jutted his chin down the tunnel past Alex. “What about that one?”

  “She doesn’t have a French accent, either.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  Alex glanced over her shoulder. “She was sent in to eliminate your arm candy there.”

  In the distance, the woman Alex had punched began rising back to her feet.

  “Give me,” Alex said, gesturing to Cooper’s pistol.

  “I’m not sure that’s such a—”

  He could have put up a fight, but when she grabbed the gun, he let her take it.

  As she swung around and pointed the Beretta down the tunnel, the other woman pushed off the wall and ran in the opposite direction, into the darkness.

  Swearing under her breath, Alex fired a shot down the tunnel as she started running after her.

  “Alex, stop!” Cooper yelled. “Let her go. There’s no time.”

  It was as if she hadn’t even heard him.

  “The alarm went off at the prison,” Cooper went on. “We have to get out of here now!”

  Holding on to El-Hashim, he turned and headed toward the exit of the tunnel. A few seconds later he heard Alex run up alongside him.

  “The alarms?” she said. “When did they start?”

  “Five, ten minutes ago.”

  She glanced back in the direction the other woman had disappeared. “Dammit.” She turned back and moved around to the other side of El-Hashim. “It’ll be faster if we carry her.”

  Without another word, they lifted El-Hashim into the air, and ran.

  Chapter Forty

  Instead of joining the others on the search of the administration building, the young guard was ordered to show his supervisor the basement room where he’d found the elevator.

  He, of course, thought this was a waste of time. If the missing prisoners had gone there, they would have had to come through the main part of the basement, and someone would have seen them.

  But as he escorted his boss along the badly lit, little-used corridor, he noticed two other doors that he had missed in his haste the first time around.

  Could the prisoners have gone through one of them?

  Temporarily dismissing the thought, he showed his supervisor the dingy room where the elevator car was waiting.

  The older guard pointed at the floor. “Did you make all this?”

  The younger man looked down but didn’t understand what he meant. “Make what, sir?”

  “Look. There’s a lot of dirt on the floor. Someone has moved it around. If it was you, you must have been dancing.” The last words came out harsh and accusatory. “Were you dancing?”

  Dancing? the young guard thought. What kind of foolish idea was that?

  “Of course not.”

  “So someone was here.”

  “Well, perhaps there was—”

  The sound was low and distant.

  “Was that a gunshot?” his supervisor asked.

  That was exactly what it had sounded like to the younger guard, but to be safe, he said, “I’m not sure.”

  They paused where they were for several seconds, waiting for a reoccurrence of the sound. When none came, they went back into the hallway and listened there. Still quiet.

  “Someone else must have heard the noise,” his supervisor said.

  He and the young guard headed over to the door leading into the main basement area. Just as the supervisor was reaching for the handle, there was a second, distant bang.

  It had come from behind them and was slightly louder than the previous one. The young guard moved quickly back the way they’d come, trying to follow the echo.

  It seemed to be coming from beyond the nearest door they’d bypassed on their way to the elevator room. It was already open a couple centimeters, so the guard pushed it the rest of the way. On the other side was a dark corridor.

  “Is this where it came from?” his supervisor asked as he joined the guard.

  “Yes. I think so.”

  The supervisor retrieved his flashlight, and drew his pistol out of his belt holster. While the guard wished he could do the same, he was not armed. That, however, didn’t prevent his boss from indicating with a nod that he should go first.

  Every nerve of the younger man’s body was on edge as he crept down the silent corridor. They came to an archway and carefully peeked around it. The large space beyond was empty.

  They did the same at the next archway—

  —only what they found this time was not an empty room.

  There was a man, slumped on the floor.

  The guard shone his light in the guy’s face.

  “Dr. Teterya,” he whispered, feeling for a pulse and getting none.

  “What is that?”

  The young guard looked around and saw his supervisor pointing his flashlight at something across the room.

  A hole in the floor.

  * * *

  DEUCE WATCHED ONE of the prison jeeps come around the far side of the facility and reenter the pa
rking area. Its companion jeep was already there, waiting. There was a quick conference between the two crews, then a man from each vehicle headed into the building.

  He keyed the mic on his radio. “Cooper, any sign of Alex yet?”

  He waited, but there was no response.

  “Cooper? You read me?”

  Nothing.

  “Cooper?”

  When there was still no answer, he trained his binoculars on the abandoned building where Cooper had gone. There was no movement anywhere. Cooper must be inside. Perhaps there was something in the walls interfering with the radio signal. Not likely, but possible.

  Dammit, he thought. He should probably go check.

  He swung the binoculars back to the prison for a final quick look, then froze.

  One of the jeeps was racing for the prison gate. He watched as it passed outside the fence, then turned off-road, heading for the building in the ravine. Back at the main building, the second jeep started heading in the same direction.

  Son of a bitch.

  * * *

  COOPER WENT UP the ladder first, then El-Hashim, and finally Alex.

  As she poked her head out of the hole, she saw Cooper off to the side, head bent, hand to his ear.

  “What?” Cooper said. “When?…How much time do we have?…Okay, okay. We’ll see you there.” He looked over at Alex. “We’ve got to move. Now!”

  Alex scrambled the rest of the way out of the hole. “How’s the leg?” she asked El-Hashim.

  “Not great,” the woman replied.

  “No choice, then. Sorry in advance.”

  “What?” El-Hashim said, confused.

  Instead of answering, Alex bent forward, put her shoulder into the woman’s waist, and lifted El-Hashim in a fireman’s hold.

  “What are you doing?” the woman cried.

  Since the answer was obvious, Alex shot Cooper a look and nodded.

  As he led them through the building, he said, “Deuce says there’s a couple vehicles heading our direction right now.”

  How the hell do they know we came this way? Alex wondered. She was sure Teterya and Irina wouldn’t have talked. Not unless they’d screwed up and been caught—

  Wait.

  Oh, God. Frida.

  The only way she could have found the tunnel as quickly as she had was if she’d gotten Irina or Teterya to show her.

  Perhaps the doctor was caught afterward, but there was a second, more likely possibility. Once Frida knew which way Alex and El-Hashim had gone, she’d have no use for the doctor anymore.

  She was, after all, a trained killer.

  Alex hoped she was wrong, but a part of her knew she wasn’t, and it made her sick to her stomach that she may have played a part in the doctor’s or Irina’s death.

  Outside, they saw the jeeps coming their way. They ran down the ravine in the opposite direction, toward a large copse of trees that spread up the bank opposite the prison. They reached the protection of the woods just seconds before they heard the first of the vehicles pull to a stop in front of the building.

  “You want me to take her, or are you okay?” Cooper asked.

  “I’m fine,” Alex said. “Keep moving.”

  The slope of the ravine was steep but not impassible. Once they reached the top, the trees thinned a bit. If they’d been doing this during the day, they’d have been spotted for sure, but the darkness helped conceal their presence.

  A gunshot back at the house stopped them in their tracks. There was a pause, then a second shot, and a third, and a fourth, before silence returned.

  Frida, Alex thought. She must have tried to make a run for it.

  “Come on,” Cooper said.

  They moved through the trees until they came to a one-lane dirt road. Instead of going down it, they crossed over into the field on the other side. They were in the open now, but out of direct line of sight of both the prison and the search party at the abandoned building.

  As they circled around the backside of a small hill, Alex heard the distinct sound of an idling car engine. Though its lights were off, the shape of the sedan soon revealed itself in the darkness.

  They were still a dozen yards away when the trunk suddenly popped open, its interior light coming on, and revealing Deuce standing beside the vehicle.

  “Finally,” he said with a grin as he jogged out to meet them.

  “Good to see you, too,” Alex said.

  “Let me help you.”

  Together they carried El-Hashim over to the trunk. The woman’s eyes went wide as they set her inside.

  “Hey! What are you doing?” she said.

  Cooper answered by leaning in and cuffing her wrists and ankles with plastic ties.

  “You can’t leave me in here! What do you think—”

  Before she could protest further, Deuce slapped a piece of duct tape over her mouth. She tried to scream but it only came out muffled and incomprehensible.

  “Scoot over,” Cooper told her.

  Her brow furrowed.

  “Scoot. Over.” He reached in and pushed her to the back of the trunk. He looked at Alex and motioned to the open space that had been created. “All yours.”

  “Can’t wait,” Alex said.

  As soon as she was in the trunk next to El-Hashim, the lid closed. She listened as Deuce and Cooper climbed into the car. With a quick rev of the engine, they were underway.

  Alex knew this was the last time she and El-Hashim would be alone together, so her last opportunity to learn what the woman knew about her father.

  She shifted onto her side. Not able to see El-Hashim in the near total darkness, she felt for the woman’s face and pulled the duct tape from her mouth.

  “My father,” she said. “How do I reach him?”

  El-Hashim spit, drops of her saliva splattering Alex’s neck and shirt.

  Alex resisted the urge to jam the heel of her hand into the woman’s nose. “Just tell me. He’s my father.”

  “I don’t care who he is to you.”

  “You owe me.”

  “What?” She let out a quick, surprised laugh. “Owe you? Thank you very much for taking me from one prison to another.”

  “I saved your life. If I hadn’t gotten you out, Frida would have killed you. You know that. I know that. How do I get ahold of my father?”

  The car began to slow, forcing Alex to reapply the duct tape, just in case El-Hashim tried to call out in hopes of getting someone’s attention.

  The stop was brief, a traffic sign of some sort, most likely. Once they were moving again, Alex pulled the tape free.

  “Please,” she said. “I just want to talk to him.”

  “Why?”

  Why?

  What kind of question was that?

  “I need to know why he left,” Alex said.

  “I should think that’s obvious. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his life in prison.”

  That was an easy answer, one that Alex had dismissed so many years ago it made her angry to hear El-Hashim say it now. It didn’t apply to the man who had raised her.

  Nor would it ever.

  She counted to ten and got her feelings back in check before she spoke again.

  “You said you have a way of contacting him. It’s all I ask. There’s a very good chance he won’t respond to me, but I need to try. I have to try. This will mean nothing to you one way or the other.”

  A beat. Then El-Hashim said, “You’re right. It will mean nothing to me one way or the other.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Frida followed Powell, El-Hashim, and their new boyfriend all the way to the end of the tunnel, staying just far enough back to not be noticed.

  She knew taking El-Hashim’s life in the tunnel was no longer an option, but she had never aborted a job before, and wasn’t about to now.

  Once they had all exited out of the hole in the roof of the tunnel, she stood below it and listened to their conversation. When the man expressed the need to get out of there as soon
as possible, Frida knew it could only mean that guards had begun searching for the missing prisoners. They had probably discovered the body of the nurse. Not really unexpected.

  She waited until she was sure they gone before climbing up. She found herself in a small room in what turned out to be a stone-sided building. She hadn’t made it very far from the room when she heard the motor. To get a better view, she headed up to the rickety second floor, and moved over to one of the holes where a window had once been. Staying out of view, she peered outside. There were two vehicles, heading toward the building she was in. The first was about two minutes ahead of the other.

  More than enough time, she thought.

  She was in position well before the first vehicle arrived. As she had guessed, the four guards who had been inside split up so they could cover more ground. She targeted one at random, and moved in behind him.

  It was so simple, it made her brain hurt from inactivity. She came at him from behind, and swung to the side, grabbing his gun hand and pointing the barrel of the weapon at his chest before he even knew what had happened.

  “Bye-bye,” she whispered as she forced her finger over his and pressed the trigger.

  As he fell to the ground, she ripped the gun from his hand, and moved around the corner of the building.

  His buddies came quickly, first one, then the other two.

  Bam. Bam-bam.

  It wasn’t even a fight.

  She took off in their vehicle a full minute before the second group of guards arrived.

  * * *

  NO MATTER HOW Alex asked the question, El-Hashim kept her mouth shut.

  There had always been the possibility that this mission would end without Alex learning any more about her dad, but she never truly thought that would happen. This was why she had come here. This was why she had said yes.

  But short of jamming a gun down El-Hashim’s throat—a tactic that probably wouldn’t work, either—Alex now knew she would come up empty. She should have followed Deuce’s advice and stayed home, taken Danny to the ballgame, and not had her hopes raised.

  Knowing she’d receive the same nonresponse again, she decided to ask one more time, for her brother’s sake.

  No, for her own, too.

  “My father left us when we were teenagers. My mother was already dead. He’s the only parent we have. I’m not asking because—”