A murky halo of light formed at receding intervals, enhancing the fathomless depth of the passage. It was a tight cylinder that seemed to descend to earth’s very core. The metal rungs of the ladder dropped from view as vertigo brought on nausea. Emily put a hand on her stomach and settled back against her heels.
“It’s this,” Brian said, “or we go back outside and wait till I can come up with another plan.”
Emily heard his level assessment and she agreed that this was the most viable option. With a quick gulp of air, she slapped her palm against the wall and stood up, “Let’s get this over with then.”
Their boots reverberated off of each rung sounding like a pick chiseling coal.
Mechanically Emily descended with a blind trust in the man beneath her. Perhaps that thought was scarier than the pit below. Perhaps relinquishing control for the first time in her life was the cause of the sudden bout of dizziness.
Emily’s foot slipped, and so did a curse from her lips.
“You okay?”
Brian’s voice was deep, a point of focus in this murky shaft.
“Wonderful.”
“Two more floors to go.” He whispered, though there was a sharp clarity to his tone caused by the metal walls.
“Hold up, Em.”
Emily locked her arm around a rung and drew in a breath of stale air.
Don’t look down.
Why did the mind never heed sensible warnings like that? Emily tipped her head and followed the muted glow of the last bulb. Each story they descended was marked by a solitary light bulb encased in wired mesh.
Brian’s wide shoulders eclipsed the light, but she caught a glimpse of the void beneath him.
“My God,” She choked. “How far down does this go?”
“Your brother said it best. South of Hell.”
“What floor are we on?” She had lost track. Had they passed by six bulbs? Seven?
“Eighth floor. We’re below the Pit.” He shifted. “Okay, I want you to step down two rungs and then shift your foot to the right. You’ll feel a ledge. I’m already on it so just squeeze between me and the wall.”
“Okay.” Emily obeyed eager for an end to the monotony of the descent.
Her boot clipped the next rung of the ladder, and she would have slipped entirely were it not for her death grip on the icy metal.
“Em?” Brian boomed with concern.
“Shhh.” She hissed. “I’m fine.”
Two more steps and she felt the narrow ledge, a six-inch metal lip that circled the shaft. Emily dragged in a deep, soul-mending breath and held it as she touched her foot to his boot. Making herself as flat as possible, she sandwiched between Brian’s hard body and the bleak cinder-block wall.
Irrationally she felt safe in this warm pocket. Brian was a solid barrier between her and the black void.
“Now what?” The words tumbled out when she finally released her breath.
Brian dipped his head close to her ear. His breath dusted the sensitive flesh with a warm dose. “The door is four feet to our right—just five more steps and we’re there.”
“Why the hell didn’t they put this ladder by the door?”
Brian chuckled. “Who can figure out the mind of an engineer?”
Indeed.
“We should do this one at a time.” She said, “You can’t stay wrapped around me—you’ll fall.”
“I won’t fall, and I like staying wrapped around you. Now stop arguing with me and take a step to your right.”
Emboldened by his hard length against her, Emily moved in tandem. When she felt Brian’s thigh shift to the right, so did hers. Obediently she answered his body’s command to halt. She felt the sweep of his arm as it released the metal grid to seek out the handle of the access panel.
For one suspended moment, the safety of two people depended on the strength of Brian’s single-handed grip on the metal framework. And in an instant the door was wrenched open, Brian sweeping her through it.
Ceiling-wide fluorescent bulbs stung Emily’s eyes and had her instinctively crouching to minimize her presence. The room was naked save for a copying machine that looked like the computer from War Games, and a paper shredder that could destroy the Library of Congress collection.
Emily squinted up at the corners of the ceiling, but detected no omnipresent cameras, although she realized that meant nothing.
“Where to now?” She asked as Brian climbed through the hatch to join her. The impulse to hug him and satisfy that he was safe—that they both were safe had her stumbling for more words, but her lips were trembling.
“We keep going down.”
“Down?” She stared at the abyss beyond the shadowed doorway.
“No, not that way. We’re far enough that it’s safe to proceed from the inside.” Brian rubbed at his ribs and winced. “Well—safeis a relative term.”
“Wonderful.” She quipped. “Why down?” The hitch in her breath was obvious. “I would figure Colin is in the Pit,” she added. “It’s what he knows. It’s where he would be comfortable.”
“No,” Brian reached for her hand, warming it. “I have a pretty good idea where your brother is right now.” He evaded her glance in favor of the gaping doorway. “Come on, there’s something I need to show you.”
It was too quiet.
Brian knew there was a limited amount of security personnel at this hour, but that by no means indicated the compound was vulnerable. The hi-tech nerve center commanded by Phil and he had replaced the need for physical intervention. Their bevy of video links and motion detectors were the first alert of any foreign presence, and then accordingly, security was deployed.
But Phil was in the hospital, Brian thought bitterly. And as for himself, he was maneuvering them in such a manner to dodge those mechanical eyes. He had picked this floor to enter the building, knowing that the cameras were fixed in the recesses of the ceiling, whereas on the levels above, they revolved in a random sequence making it impossible to evade their pursuit.
“Stay close behind me.”
Emily jogged the two steps it took to catch up with him, and practically molded herself to his frame. A quick grin tugged at his lips, but he put a gruff inflection in his voice. “Not that close.”
When she would have eased away, he reached out for her hand again. His free grip was clutched around the 9MM. It seemed little defense, knowing that the guards in NMD toted AK-47’s that could debilitate them with one spray.
Emily’s fingers trembled in his, as he tried for an encouraging squeeze. In the past he was responsible for one person. The surveillance he executed was too exacting to risk a large group, or any form of backup. Now there was a risk. A risk that was so important to him. His sole thought was to get her through this unharmed. He wanted the chance at a future with her. What that future would be, if it ever came to fruition—all he wanted was a chance.
“Brian,”
His head snapped as he cursed himself for falling so deep into thought. He cleared his throat. “What’s wrong?”
“I thought I heard something.”
Above the ubiquitous hum of generators he strained to perceive any sound—the scuff of a telltale shoe or the click of a door. But there was nothing and the stairwell they had just alighted from was void of life. Regardless, he refrained from speaking, and used hand gestures to prompt Emily to follow.
Her eyes locked on his, and for a second Brian felt exposed in more ways than this open stairwell exhibited. In that deadlock, where he dared not even blink to sever the connection, Brian saw blind trust and unmitigated faith. The weight of that confidence worried him.
Admiral Walter Morrison, his father, had been responsible for an entire ship, and because of his accountability, was one of the last men to try and leave the flagging destroyer. He never made it.
Brian attended the Naval Academy because his fate had been ordained from youth, but after watching his father’s command of so many, he vowed to work alone. His surveillance missions sa
ved as many lives as Walter Morrison’s contribution to the Navy, but only jeopardized himself.
Growing up, Brian did not get to see his father often, but when he did, the man wove tales of battles and life at sea. He made it sound like an epic war of Gods across a mythical ocean. In those times together, Brian sat in awe of his father’s tales, and after his death, being a part of Naval Intelligence was all that remained of that bond. His decision to leave it behind was a tough one. His misconceived death played a heavy factor, but the ensuing resurrection was an even greater reason.
They were quick to want to send him back under a new name. To breed a new identity and start the infiltration process from scratch. Captain Herman Kolchek spoke to Brian with the earnest advice of a surrogate father. He feared that Brian would not be satisfied until he met his Father’s fate. Until that observation had been uttered aloud by someone he trusted, Brian never acknowledged the thought. Maybe Herman Kolchek had been right.
But not anymore.
Under the weight of Emily’s stare, Brian realized that he didn’t want to work alone anymore. He wanted to share his life with someone. That someone had a face. An angelic face.
Yes, her faith weighed heavily on him, but Brian was willing to risk it all for a chance at a normal life with this woman.
Click.
It was such a soft sound. It could have been as innocent as an air vent switching on, but Brian knew that the source was man-made. His grip tightened on both the 9MM and Emily’s hand. Inclining his head, he motioned her back into a doorway, mutely cheering on her efforts to keep her tread silent. Heavy boots against linoleum could spell disaster, but she moved adroitly.
As soon as they were within the dark storage chamber, Brian moved to the edge of the doorframe, his gun elevated.
In mere seconds the shadows descended the stairwell. Men in black, approaching like the crew that advanced on him on that beach in Somalia. Shadows. Mere whispers of piped-in air. Then, as was now, it was their scent that divulged their progress. A rank combination of sweat and synthetic cloth.
Above their nimble approach, Brian heard Emily’s small breaths coming shorter in sequence, as if between each one she held her lungs for as long as possible to avoid revealing herself.
The guards were outside the door now. He couldn’t see them, but sensed three unique aromas. One, a hint of garlic from his last meal, another the musky scent of Old Spice deodorant, and the last, coming up from behind, but malodorous with a pungent whiff of trepidation.
They hesitated and Brian was prepared to take out at least two of them before he went down, but miraculously they continued past. Not until the final tainted scent of perspiration left the hall, did Brian relax. The motion made him aware of his mending injuries all over again.
He turned and offered Emily an encouraging nod. Wide eyes traced his every move, and he tried to smile, but she just stared at him.
“This way,” He gestured.
Emily blinked as her body shuddered. “Shhh.” She hissed.
“They’re at least three floors down by now, if not more. And we can get where we need to go through here, we don’t have to use the stairs.”
“Three floors down?” She whispered incredulously. “Seriously, how far down does NMD go?”
Brian touched a button undetected by her, and watched as a panel slid open, revealing a utility room. “If the floor turns molten, you’ll know we’ve reached the bottom.”
Emily’s eyebrows shot up.
“Kidding.” He added, but there was no smile to accompany the joke.
He crossed the floor in three purposeful strides and tossed the corner of the ceiling an indifferent glance. “The bottom two floors are warehouses.”
“I’m going to guess that the only reason you would keep a warehouse twelve stories below ground is if you want to hide something.”
“Indeed.” He answered, distracted by the illuminated panel on the wall. Nimbly his fingers pecked off a sequence of numbers on the keypad. “Phil and I have override codes for all the doors down here.” He said, “No one knows that. I never thought we would have a need for them, but I was trained to be thorough.”
For a moment, Brian hesitated on the threshold. He turned around and found Emily busily trying to yank the sleeves of her sweatshirt over her hands to induce warmth. She seemed skittish in one breath, and impatient the next. She was a blend of contradictions.
Here was a woman that tried hard to put on a brave air, and indeed she was brave. Left alone to care for a complex brother—left to grapple with guilt and still maintain a remarkable career that would nonetheless be overshadowed. She didn’t complain. She remained brave, stoic, and to his dismay, headstrong.
“Em,”
Fawn lashes lifted, and he drew in a tight breath at the sight of those solemn eyes.
“Look,” he continued, “before we go in here, let me just clear something up.”
The fumbling with her hands stopped. He sought the opportunity to reach for them, warming them on contact. She watched him with intense curiosity, her head cocked like an animal in the wild.
“When I tracked you down to the cabin in Lake George, I wanted to believe that you were a criminal. I wanted to believe you were deceitful, manipulative, anything to erase the memory I had of the stranger that I grew to—” he cleared his throat, “grown fond of in the hospital. I wanted to condemn you, because I hurt.”
Emily’s lips parted to speak, but he shook his head. “I’m so damned used to being alone, and it’s easier for me to attack than admit the alternative.”
This time she would not be deterred. “What’s the alternative?” She whispered.
Brian felt the sting of cool air emanating from the chamber behind him. Down here, the dull drone of the generators was barely distinguished. It was almost an afterthought, a hint of vibration running through his blood. He felt the tremor in Emily’s fingers and stared down at their joined hands.
“That with you, for the first time in my life, I feel vulnerable.”
Emily’s eyes shifted, and just like that, his insecurity burgeoned anew. The silence grew deafening until he drew away from her and tried to concentrate on the bleak entrance.
Emily touched him. Surprised, he stared down at her hand. His gaze skimmed up her arm, across the soft curve of her shoulder to fuse with her eyes.
There was a grave certainty to her expression as she said softly.
“Vulnerable? For the first time in ten years I have relinquished control of my fate to someone else. Brian, we have known each other barely a week, and yet the moment I touched your hand in the hospital it was like—”
Oh, he knew exactly what it was like. It was like kinetic energy and a kind of kismet, like finally, we meet again. He didn’t believe in reincarnation, but there was something so familiar the moment she connected with his hand. A complete stranger, and yet Emily had moved across that hospital floor and reached for him like someone lost and finally found.
“You are very much in control of your destiny, Em.” He answered hoarsely. “You are too strong for it to be any other way.”
“Strong?” Her voice sounded shrill as she sucked it in and cast a worried glimpse over her shoulder. “I’m terrified.” She whispered. “Of this—of losing my brother. Brian, I can’t—”
“Hey,” In his grasp, he felt Emily’s shoulders shake. “We’ll find him. I will do whatever it takes to make it okay.”
“Why?” She croaked, looking at him imploringly.
With an affecting smile, he released her. “I’m pretty sure you know why. When this is over, Emily—”
Her fingertips rose to dust across his lips, silencing him. In the stillness their eyes locked and held, and the shadows and the resuscitation of NMD itself abated.
Brian dug deep to break out of that trance and emerged more determined than ever.
“Okay,” he asserted, “let’s do this.”
Emily swiped impatiently at her eye, and nodded. She felt like a wrec
k, as if she were on the verge of a breakdown, but somewhere beneath her chaotic thoughts, Brian’s grave words warmed her.
I think you know why.
With no time to contemplate his statement, they stepped into the black chamber, the panel snapping shut behind them with a malevolent click. Trapped in obscurity, Emily choked down panic and reached in the darkness for Brian. She located his arm and gripped it with manacle-like fingers.
“W-where are we?” Her voice was no more than a breathy whisper, but there was a daunting echo to it.
The darkness consumed her to the point that she could not even detect her own hand before her face, yet for as useless as her eyes were, her senses picked up on a feeling of vast space. It was as if she were rooted in a giant underground cave where bats hung upside and stalagmites dripped brackish beads into pools of obsidian water. She homed in on the brawny man at her side, touching the length of her body to his to make contact with something secure.
“Well Alice,” Brian murmured, “welcome to Wonderland.”
CHAPTER XIV
With that announcement, Emily felt Brian move and heard a series of clicks as the first light exposed him flipping on a panel of switches. Artificial illumination exploded from above, shining bright enough to replicate the sun. She cried out and pitched her hand up over her eyes.
“What the—?”
Testing her endurance, Emily parted two fingers and squinted until her vision acclimated. Her hand fell uselessly to her side and her jaw dropped just as uselessly. She took two steps forward and felt too numb to continue any further.
The room was greater in size than any commercial airline hangar. Several jumbo jets could easily sit side by side under the vaulted ceiling soaring at least three stories above. The far walls were remote enough to lack focus, but they served only as a backdrop to the massive structure that filled nearly half the colossal chamber.
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