A Necessary Deception

by Lucy Farago

  Although fuzzy, Carrie’s image reappeared. “We need to talk fast. Either the weather is screwing with the transmission…or they are.”

  “They?” Taylor said.

  “Taylor Moore, I presume?”

  Monty made a quick introduction. “Carrie, Taylor, Taylor, Carrie. Carrie, there’s a zip file on this computer. It’s Taylor’s hard-drive backup. Can you download it?”

  “Stupid question. Hang on.” She spun her chair and used one of the many computers in his control room to begin the process. “It’s a big file,” she said, punching keys. “Might take a while with this weather. Cross your fingers.”

  Dozier came back into view. “Cowboy is already on his way to Anchorage. But after that, he’ll be grounded until the weather clears. Think you can stay alive till then?”

  “Seriously? I’m not stupid.” Why did his friends always think they knew more than he did?

  “I didn’t say—” The reception cut out again.

  “What did she mean by they? The Russians?” Taylor asked.

  “If they know we’re using their satellite.” He was trying to improve the reception but wasn’t having any luck.

  “Is that possible?”

  “If they’re aware of it, it’s traceable.”

  “Monty? Monty, can you hear me?” Carrie’s voice carried through the speakers.

  “Hear but not see.”

  “Good enough. You have to get out of there. We don’t know how much time you have, but they intercepted your SOS. They have an idea of your location.”

  “We’re inside a mountain.” Taylor gripped his shoulder. “Monty?”

  He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and looked up from the static-covered screen. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “Ms. Moore? Do you know why they’re looking for you?”

  “I assume it’s because of what I found on my computer.”

  “We have another theory,” Carrie said.

  Monty was sure Taylor’s look of confusion mimicked his own. He was going to ask what Carrie had found when Dozier’s face cut through the static.

  “Listen, get your ass out of there. We believe Santa’s fall camp is about fifty miles west of you. With any luck, they might still be there.”

  “Santa?” Taylor asked.

  “I’ll tell you later,” he said before returning his attention to Dozier. “They don’t like strangers. Remember the last time.”

  Coming back to the bunker from a training exercise, Eman and Dozier had accidentally stumbled on to the group. Unfortunately, convincing the camp they meant them no harm while carrying assault rifles and resembling men you wouldn’t invite for afternoon tea proved difficult. Dozier and Eman allowed themselves to be chased off at gunpoint. If these people had secrets they wanted to keep, so did the team, and a confrontation wasn’t in anyone’s best interest.

  “Right. So, barter.”

  “With what?”

  “You’ll have time to figure that out. And be sure you take a compass.”

  Monty opened his mouth to tell his friend to fuck off, he wasn’t an idiot.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Monty. But this isn’t something you’re used to doing on your own. We all have our expertise. That isn’t yours. I talked to Eman. The eastern side of the mountain will take longer, but the route is easier and will provide more cover. T recommended you use the passages.”

  “Either way,” Carrie cut in, “take the Eastman compass.”

  “It’s still in the prototype stage.” He hadn’t had time to perfect it yet.

  “I finished it. I was going to tell you, but you got upset the last time I tried to use your software to help Cowboy, remember? So I kept it to myself. I gave it to TNT to test last month. It’s with the others.”

  He’d been working on it in his spare time for months. It looked like any other handheld compass, but beneath it lay an intricate GPS that could be programmed with specific locations essential to the team and their assigned tasks. The needle had to be spun in a specific pattern to access the GPS. Should it fall into the wrong hands, the hardware could be fried with a push of a button. It was very James Bond and had impressed the shit out of Ryan.

  “T programmed it with his latest maps, in case you’re feeling brave, plus…I added a tracking device. And before you say anything about my tinkering with your toys,” she quickly added, “he gets into some weird shit. I only wanted to be able to track him should, you know…he blew himself up. We should be able to monitor your progress once you clear the mountain,” Carrie said. She glanced over her shoulder to another screen. “I have the file. Delete yours.”

  He hit delete then turned to Taylor. “Bottom shelf of the second stack to the right of the door, in the second supply room. You’ll find a green tackle box. Inside should be the compass Carrie is talking about. Can you get it? It’s the gray one, not the black one.”

  She nodded. “Absolutely,” and hurried to find the compass.

  It was good to hear her more concerned than scared. He waited until she was gone, then drilled Dozier and Carrie. “You guys know as well as I do that Santa’s camp might not be there.”

  “Doesn’t matter. It’s worth a shot,” Dozier said. “Unless you come up with a better idea, it’s your best one. Plus, we’ll be tracking you. Stay alive and we’ll find you.”

  “Comforting. Now tell me, why are they looking for her? What did you find?”

  Carrie pushed a reluctant Dozier aside. “We don’t know.”

  “Then what? Are you saying this isn’t about the hijacking of her computers?”

  “Maybe. According to your message, they snatched her six days ago.”

  Had it been six days? It had. “And…?” He wished Carrie would hurry this along. He didn’t want Taylor to overhear. He’d tell her himself later, when they were safe.

  “Near as we can tell, they’ve been watching her a lot longer.” The screen went fuzzy again.

  Monty did the one thing he’d lambasted the guys for doing; he hit the terminal. Carrie’s warped image reappeared. “…cameras,” and there was more static before “surveillance…” and “…FBI” ended the transmission, as the satellite icon blinked off. A shot of the outside trees filled the screen.

  “What the hell? Oh, shit. How?” They’d been discovered. Men, two he could see, were crawling under the trees. He debated ambushing them, but his gut told him to run. He grabbed two guns from the cabinet, a couple of flashlights, a padlock, and his gloves, then kicked the generator off. He padlocked the door and as fast as his leg would carry him ran into the tunnels, where he found Taylor on her way back, the compass in her hand. “Gotta go.” He snagged her elbow. “Grotto.”

  She allowed herself to be tugged but glanced back at the tunnel. “Monty?”

  “Go, Taylor. They’ll be here soon.”

  She didn’t ask any more questions.

  They reached the grotto just as loud voices carried into the tunnels. Taylor knew to stay silent. He threw them into darkness and listened for footsteps, his gun drawn. When none came, he assumed they were trying to gain entrance into the control room. Then a loud bang confirmed his theory. They’d blown the door.

  “Stay against the wall,” he whispered into her ear and pushed her forward and toward the ledge that circled the pool and the half wall that hid the cavern. He began to count the fifteen paces to the mouth. Taylor had lied about not liking tight places, so he only hoped she could handle what they needed to do. Reaching the opening, he ducked them both behind the wall. He searched for her in the dark, and when he found her, he cupped her face. “Do you trust me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good.” He wasn’t a shrink and wasn’t sure what to say to keep her from panicking. “Don’t stop once you get inside. I’ll be right behind you. I promise, I won’t let anything happen to y
ou. Remember that.”

  “I believe you,” she whispered and stuffed the compass into one of her pockets.

  He really hoped he wouldn’t renege on that promise. He kissed her, then shoved her into the hot, claustrophobic cavern. “Crawl, Taylor.” And with a barely audible whimper, she did just that.

  He wished he could give her light. But in this tight space the reflection might act as a beacon, and he couldn’t take the chance of alerting the Russians as to where they were. Once they were through to the open cave, he’d barricade the opening.

  Taylor tried not to focus on the sound of her breathing. It only made it worse. Loud in the confined space, it was a constant reminder of where she was. So instead, she closed her eyes and tried to imagine a bright, clear day, though try as she might, she couldn’t get past frizzy-hair weather and sweat-drenched thongs. This would be over soon. Monty wouldn’t have brought her here if there was no way out. No way out. Her body jerked and she hit her head. She was in a tunnel. Going where? When would it end? Blood pounded in her ears, her arms and legs refusing to move. She had to move. Monty had said not to stop. She drew in a ragged breath, her heart beating even faster. Was she sucking up all the air, the hot, stifling air? How far were they going? She wanted to call out. How she managed not to, she didn’t know. She’d told him she trusted him. And she did. She forced the muscles in her neck and back to relax and then, thankfully, was able to continue. Trust him, she repeated and kept repeating it until the walls stopped closing in on her.

  When her hand hit air, she spoke only loud enough for him to hear. “Monty, I think we reached the end.”

  A light flickered on and projected into a small cavern in front of her. Although not tall enough to stand in, it was a vast improvement. Taylor got off her knees and into a squatting position. The darkness still bothered her, but at least the feeling of being swallowed alive was subsiding.

  Monty passed her a flashlight and began searching the cave.

  “What are you looking for?”

  He put a finger over his lips, then pressed his mouth to her ear. “Something to block the opening.”

  She nodded and helped, then followed his lead as he began to quietly fill the opening by piling stones one by one until the passage was blocked.

  “It won’t stop them if they find it and decide to plow through, but if they don’t see an opening on the other end maybe they won’t try.”

  “Where to now?” She prayed he didn’t mean for them to stay in a space no bigger than an elevator. Either that or her worst fear would come true. She’d be buried alive. And while not as warm as the grotto, the temperature remained stifling.

  “We continue to traverse the tunnels.” He flashed the light on an opening inside a large crevice not much bigger than the one they’d just left and another to their left and only slightly less scary. “Give me the compass.”

  She pulled it out and handed it to him. When he opened it, a small, built-in light turned on.

  “T’s map indicates the smaller of the passages is shorter.”

  “Great,” she said, unable to mask her trepidation.

  “It won’t be as bad. We can use the flashlight from now on. Better in the light, right?”

  That she wasn’t sure. Was it better to see how tight the space was? Or would it keep her saner to visualize a big, open area?

  “I’ll lead,” he said. “That way I’ll block most of your view. You can focus on me.”

  “You want me to stare at your ass? Can you at least take the snow pants off?”

  He grinned and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Glad to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”

  She hadn’t said it to be funny. “Where will we go if we make it out?”

  “There’s a commune of sorts some fifty miles west of here.”

  She remembered what Monty’s friend had said. “Santa’s camp. Yes, you said you’d explain.”

  “When the guys stumbled on to them, the old woman who met them wore a Santa sweatshirt. She was anything but jovial, so the nickname stuck. They don’t like strangers and value their privacy, often at gunpoint. If they’ll take us in, we should be okay until we’re picked up.”

  “And if they won’t?” she asked, following Monty into yet another she-refused-to-think-about-pant-peeing opening.

  “Not an option.”

  She never would’ve guessed Monty for a positive thinker, and right now she wasn’t certain if she wanted to punch him…or kiss him. Deciding it was better, at least for the moment, not to know their fate, she clamped her eyes shut and channeled her inner baby. She understood why children learned to walk soon after crawling. Ignoring the stones digging into her knees, she focused on the sandy beaches in Italy, missing how good pasta tasted when prepared with tomatoes fresh from the chef’s own garden. Her stomach rumbled. And she realized something.

  Maybe it was all this running for her life, reminding her how precarious it could all be. But in trying to forget who she’d been, in starting a new life, she’d lost good memories too. And that had been a mistake. Money may have flown her to Europe and rented a grand villa, but she’d found that quaint, hole-in-the-wall café because she’d wanted to get away from her coke-snorting, so-called friends. It was nice to remember she hadn’t been a complete waste of skin.

  “Did you really have your eyes closed the whole time?”

  How had he managed to turn around? “Yes, and blinding me with a flashlight won’t get me to open them any time soon,” she said, seeing the glow through her eyelids.

  “Sorry.” The light moved away.

  She opened her eyes. Monty squatted in front of her, in what looked like a cave the size of the spring grotto. He moved aside, then helped her stand. The air had a bite to it, and she shivered. “It’s cold.” She sniffed. “And it smells…odd.”

  “Acrid. Yeah, I noticed that too. I don’t know. It must be from the sulfur springs. And it might get colder. We’re veering east, and the underground spring is west. How are you doing?”

  How was she doing? “It doesn’t sound like anyone is following us,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t dash her optimism.

  “No. That passage is hard to see unless you’re in the spring. So we should be fine. It’s better if we keep moving, though. Were you thinking of me when you had your eyes closed?” His grin was even more devilish now that his face was shadowed and covered in dirt.

  “Yes. Standing in front of my car, with my foot on the gas pedal.”

  “Ha. You like me and you know it.”

  “Sure I do…under my tires.” With an evil laugh, she nudged him with her elbow. “I thought if I could focus on a different visual, I wouldn’t think of myself as sausage stuffing.”

  “Did it work?” he asked, heading toward another passage.

  “How long were we in that thing?” And how many more would they have to crawl through?

  “Hmm, seven, maybe eight minutes.”

  Light from his flashlight bounced off the walls, and she noticed the cavern on the other side was far larger than she’d imagined. “Then yes, it worked.” And she was very grateful to see an adult-size opening. “And before you ask…I was remembering a spaghetti dinner I had in Italy.”

  “Cool. I’ve never been to Italy. Maybe when this is over, you can take me to where you ate. Watch your steps,” he said, pointing to the ground. “Those rocks are sharp.”

  Yes, and her knees still ached. “Are you a Caribbean vacationer?”

  “I’m not a vacationer, remember? This is how I got myself into this.”

  “Yes, but I thought…wait, never? You never take a vacation?”

  “I enjoy working. I never had the need to go anywhere.” He ducked under a protruding stone and waited until she’d done the same.

  “Well, I’m not regretting giving up my money, but I wish I could go back to Tuscany. The fo
od was amazing.”

  “All food tastes better when you’re not the one cooking it.”

  “Even chili from a can?”

  He reached for her hand and pulled her along. “I think it was the company that made that taste good.”

  She smiled to herself because with that she had to agree.

  “Shit.”

  She tried to see what had elicited his comment, but the cave had elongated into a corridor and he obstructed her view. “What?” Nothing could be as bad as those tubes of death.

  He turned, still blocking the passage. “Let me see how much space we have and how far it goes.”

  “What’s an it? It what? I’m not going to like this it, am I?” Her heart began to pound and she had to wipe her already grimy palms on her pants.

  “You might not want to think about food. Or anything else that makes you feel full. Think paper. Or books. You like to read? Focus on Shakespeare or something. Romeo and Juliet. That’s your type of thing, right?”

  “You do know they die at the end?”

  “Bad idea.” He shot what she was certain was a worried look to whatever was behind him. “Okay, go anywhere happy.”

  “Monty? What the fuck?” His trying to make her feel calm was doing anything but.

  “Just promise not to panic. It could be a couple of feet. Promise?”

  “That whole you-beneath-the-wheels-of-my-car thing is sounding pretty good right about now.”

  With a resigned sigh, he allowed her to squeeze by. She pointed her light and squinted at the small adjoining cavern but saw no passageway out. Then again, it was dark. She craned her neck, flashing the light up, looking to see if he meant for them to climb. But what did that have to do with paper? She told herself not to panic. He didn’t mean they were trapped. His words made no—She jumped back and smacked into Monty. She pivoted on her heels and tried to push past him. He didn’t budge. “Move.”

  “Where are you going to?”

  “Telling me I have no alternative isn’t going to make me crawl under that death trap.” He meant for them to…she couldn’t even use the word crawl because that would mean on hands and knees in a tight but at least breathable space, which this was not. He wanted her to make like some tomb raider and belly crawl beneath a slab of stone that, with her luck, would squish her like yesterday’s pancakes.