"Oh no," she said.
Adriana looked at the president. He was still talking about the benefits of entrepreneurship and how it made the economy go, providing jobs and building a strong foundation for the country.
He had no idea what was going on.
The nearest Secret Service man to her was twenty feet away.
She thought fast. Only one idea came to her mind, and she didn't like it. The black tube stopped moving, and she knew there were no other options.
Adriana pumped her legs as fast as she could, leaping onto the stage and sprinting at the president.
"Shooter!" she yelled as she ducked her head and drove her shoulder into the president's midsection. The form tackle would have made any football defensive coach proud.
Adriana and Dawkins hit the deck a half second before gunfire erupted.
The chain gun whined loudly amid a constant series of pops, sending dozens of rounds at the stage per second. The podium was torn apart almost instantly as bullets shredded the wood.
The two nearest Secret Service men charged the stage to cover the president while four others zeroed in on the source of the gunfire and drew their weapons.
Panic flooded the ballroom. Men and women ducked under their tables. Several women screamed. Two or three people closest to the exit ran for the doors.
Adriana held the president down until one of the Secret Service agents arrived.
The gunfire from the spotlight window had stopped and been replaced by loud pops from the other guards' weapons. Sparks flashed off the spotlight. The bright bulb suddenly exploded as one of the rounds struck it in the center, turning the big tube dark.
Police rushed out of the room toward the access door outside to make sure the shooter couldn't escape.
One of the guards pulled Adriana off the president and pinned her to the stage. He drew his weapon and pressed it to the back of her head.
"Don't move," he barked.
Dawkins was lying facedown with his head turned toward her. One of his guards was lying on top of him to protect the president.
"Put that gun away," Dawkins ordered. "This woman just saved my life."
"Yes, sir," the guard said and stepped away from Adriana.
The gunfire had ceased, but the chaos had only just begun.
"Get him out of here!" she said in a commanding voice to the guard atop the president. "Now!"
The two Secret Service men glanced at each other and then nodded. They knew what to do. Two more joined them as they ushered the president off the stage to the right and out through a side door.
Adriana stood up and scanned the room. Everyone was in a panic. Or were they?
One man in the far right corner in the back was walking calmly toward an exit door. Adriana frowned. The guy was way too collected for a civilian.
She glanced back at the spotlight window. Through the opening, she saw security forces rushing through the room.
No one had noticed the man leaving in the corner.
Adriana took a deep breath and leaped off the stage.
11
Ringgold, Georgia
Sean stared out at the grand view from atop the hill. Tommy stood next to him, also admiring the landscape that rolled out before them. He tightened the gear bag strapped to his back, making sure it was snug enough to stay in place for some light spelunking.
They stood atop Boy's Mountain just a couple of miles outside the little town of Ringgold. It was—for Sean—a very real homecoming. His parents had owned the property for nearly thirty years, moving here from Chattanooga when he was in high school.
The rise was more of a large hill than an actual mountain. White Oak Mountain—just a few thousand yards away—was taller and longer, stretching far into Tennessee and deep into Georgia, nearly reaching all the way to Summerville. Still, the little mountain provided incredible vistas, especially on a clear, cold day.
"I can see why your folks never sold this place," Tommy said. "You can see all the way to the Blue Ridge Mountains from here."
"Yep," Sean nodded. "I don't miss living here, but every time I come back it gets harder and harder to leave."
After taking in the scenery for another minute or two, Tommy turned to his friend and asked if he'd made arrangements for them to search the property next door.
"Yeah, I spoke to the lady who owns the place. She said it's cool for us to walk around down there. With it being winter, snakes won't be a problem."
Tommy tightened the zipper on his coat. "No kidding. A reptile would be frozen solid in this weather."
The two trudged beyond Sean's father's shed and began the short descent toward the cave. After only two minutes, they arrived at one of the Confederate trenches. Even a casual observer would have realized the earthworks were a military trench. The position was perfectly placed to take out an enemy as they rounded the bend on the Old Federal Road several hundred feet below. Soldiers could have poured musket fire and cannon balls into the bottleneck, obliterating anyone who crossed their path. Due to the trench's position, anyone going through the pass wouldn't realize what was happening until it was too late.
"You ever bring a metal detector up here and look around?" Tommy asked.
"Oddly enough, I never have."
"Really?"
Sean chuckled. "We've been friends for about thirty years. If I'd done something like that, I would have invited you to join me."
"That's true." He pointed to a strange opening in the earth another hundred feet away. "Is that the cave over there?"
"Yep," Sean said as he marched forward, through the shallow trench and down the hill.
Tommy followed close behind, kicking dead leaves with the tips of his shoes along the way.
"How long did you say it's been since you went down there?"
"I don't know. Twenty years?" Sean said. "Last time I went in, we had to use a rope to climb out. The hill leading down into the cave is kind of steep."
"Do we need a rope?"
"Not sure. We'll know in a second."
The two traversed the face of the mountain until they reached a broad opening in the earth. The cave mouth was about twenty feet in diameter. To get to the actual entrance, they had to lower themselves down a steep incline, fifteen feet to the bottom where the ground leveled off. It wasn't a straight drop to the entrance, but having something to hold on to as they made their way down was definitely a plus. Lucky for Sean and Tommy, someone had left a fifty-foot extension cord tied to a pine tree.
Sean tested the makeshift rope by pulling on it and then leaning back, putting all his weight on the cord.
"Looks like this will hold," he said, giving it one last tug.
Tommy wasn't as convinced. "Maybe we should go check out your dad's shed and see if there's a rope or something else in there."
"Shed's locked, and my parents aren't around. Don't worry. This will hold."
Sean started lowering himself down the steep slope one hand over the other. It took him less than half a minute to reach the bottom. When his feet were on flat ground, he called up to Tommy and gave him the all-clear.
Tommy stared at the dingy orange cord. He tentatively picked it up and gave the thing a few test pulls of his own. Satisfied it would hold, he started inching his way down the hill.
Sean watched as his friend methodically descended the slope like a sloth climbing down a tree.
"Take your time, buddy. We have all day."
Tommy's forearms burned from the strain. He couldn't imagine doing this same stunt six months prior. "Shut up. I don't exactly trust your rope thingy. Feels like it could break loose any second. And don't make any jokes about me being out of shape, either."
"I wasn't going to. You're in the best shape of your life, probably fitter than me. Seriously, you're doing fine. Just a few more steps."
Tommy's feet touched the dirt in front of the cave, and he let the cord fall to the ground. He clenched his fingers into a fist several times to get the feeling back and to h
elp with the tightness in his forearms.
"That sure is a workout," he said.
"No kidding," Sean said with a slap on his friend's back. "I doubt you could have done that last year."
"No way I could have."
Tommy looked up at the cave entrance. Then, he took out his phone and switched on the light. "Well, let's take a gander inside. After you."
Sean switched on a flashlight and started into the cave.
The first twenty feet were easy enough. The floor was covered in sheets of rock that—at one point in time—had been on the cave roof. Years of erosion and occasional seismic activity had caused the layers to break away and collapse to the floor.
"If there was anything in here on the ground, it's underneath tons of rock now," Sean said, shining his light around on the broken stone.
Tommy scanned the room. "Yeah. I wonder how much of the ceiling fell. The actual cave floor could be ten feet farther down."
"It's possible."
Sean flashed his light ahead where a short wall appeared to block the way. "We have to climb up to that opening," he said, pointing at a passage above the blockage.
"Was it always like that?"
"As far as I know. Had to do the same thing twenty years ago when I came down here. Although it does appear more of the ceiling has fallen in since then. Seems like the floor is closer to that corridor."
Tommy didn't like the sound of that. "How often does the ceiling fall in this place?" His eyes darted around as if the rock above could crush them at any given second.
"No idea," Sean said as he reached the wall. He stepped up on a smaller boulder and pulled himself up easily to the opening. It was only seven or eight feet up, and the rocks had fallen in such a way that getting up was no problem. "I'm not a geologist."
Tommy started climbing the boulder once Sean was out of the way and into the passage. "Yeah, I just thought since you'd been here a few times maybe you could gauge it."
As Tommy's right foot touched the top of the boulder, something brushed by his face and knocked him off balance.
He shrieked, waving his hands around like a bird trying to fly for the first time. His weight shifted backward, and he lost his footing. Tommy desperately reached out to keep his balance, but gravity was working against him.
He felt Sean's hand slap him in the chest and squeeze his shirt. A split second later, Sean jerked his friend away from the ledge and into the safety of the narrow corridor.
Tommy panted for a second, still feeling panic course through his veins. "Something flew past my face," he said, swiping his hand around like he could feel an insect crawling on his skin.
"Probably just a bat," Sean said. "Keep moving."
Sean pushed forward while his friend gave a few more precautionary brushes on his arms and neck.
"There are bats in here?" Tommy asked.
"It's a cave," Sean said, keeping his eyes forward. "Of course there are bats in here."
Sean couldn't see his friend blush in the darkness.
"I guess I didn't really think that one through."
Sean pushed forward with bent knees, staying low so he didn't hit his head on the low ceiling.
The narrow corridor stretched deeper into the cave for about thirty feet before coming to a sudden end that dropped back down to the main cavern floor.
Sean unfastened his gear bag and fished a pair of glow sticks out of it. He cracked the sticks, shook them up, and dropped them to the bottom to shine a little light on the climb down.
Carefully, Sean made his way down the wall until he was back on the ground and stepped back to give Tommy some room.
"Are there many more climbs like this?" Tommy asked as he worked his way down the wall. "Will make for some pretty slow going."
"No," Sean said. "Just this one. It goes downhill from here."
He took off again, trudging through the mud and across the wet rocks, leading the way down the gradual slope. The damp air smelled, well, slimy—like a hundred years' worth of mildew had built up on the stone. The temperature remained constant in the high fifties, warmer than aboveground but still chilly enough to warrant a jacket.
The two friends pushed on, navigating their way deeper into the cave until they arrived at a spot where the tunnel ended in a small circular room. The ceiling shot high into the rock, much taller than in the passageway.
An empty milk jug sat on the muddy floor next to a couple of old beer cans. Several loose stones were arranged in a circle close by with charred black wood in the center.
"Looks like we're not the first ones down here," Tommy said.
"Nope," Sean shook his head. "The funny thing is that stuff was here when I came down twenty years ago."
"Seems like having a fire down here isn't a good idea. Would get awfully smoky."
"Yeah. I was wondering about that, too."
The two men looked around the room but quickly realized there wasn't much to see.
"So...what are we looking for down here?" Tommy asked.
Sean set his gear bag on the floor and dug out some larger lights and mounts. A minute later the powerful bulbs bathed the cave in bright light.
"The times I came down here before, I never noticed anything unusual," Sean said. "But I didn't have much light, either."
He tilted his head back and looked around the upper reaches of the room. The rough rock walls almost had the feel of being hand-hewn. Unlike most natural caves, this one had no stalactites or stalagmites.
"I wonder how many people have been in here through the years," Tommy said as he ran his fingers along the wall's surface. He bent down and picked up a loose rock and then tossed it aside.
Sean was still searching the upper reaches of the cave walls for anything out of the ordinary.
"Always weird to think about it like that. You never know whose footsteps you're standing in when you visit historic places, or any place for that matter."
Tommy kicked one of the beer cans, sending it rattling along the hard floor. The sound echoed in the room, amplified by the high ceiling's natural dome shape. He looked up to the wall opposite of Sean. Spotting something that seemed out of place, he paused, cocked his head to the side, and then got Sean's attention.
"Hey, what's that up there?"
Sean turned and followed Tommy's finger to the spot.
High up on the wall, about fifteen feet off the ground, was a collection of stones stacked on a ledge. At first glance, they were nearly impossible to discern from the rest of the wall. The stones matched the rock from the wall and were packed tightly in the shadows. Unless someone was looking for it, the little arrangement of rocks would easily be missed.
"It's definitely something," Sean said.
"Yeah. No way that's natural." He turned to his friend. "You think we can get up there to check it out?"
"Maybe," Sean said, his voice full of hesitation.
"It's not that high," Tommy said. "You usually only get freaked out by things higher than twenty feet. That's maybe sixteen feet, tops."
Sean's rabid fear of heights had been an issue as long as he could remember. Usually, the phobia manifested itself in tall buildings or on mountains where a steep drop-off was nearby. When Sean found himself in a high place, it was paralyzing. His muscles tensed, and he could barely make his body move.
"The height isn't the problem," Sean said. "I'm just not sure about how to get up there."
Tommy searched the wall for a moment and then stepped closer. He put his hand up and grabbed a narrow ledge. His fingers strained as he pulled himself up. Next, he put the toe of his right shoe on a thin lip and reached up with his right hand to another handhold.
Sean watched, mesmerized, as his friend expertly navigated the climb. Tommy was ten feet up when he hit a snag. There was a solid piece of rock jutting out from the side of the wall. Climbers would have called it a chicken head due to the shape. Tommy could reach the hold, but there wasn't another foothold except for a ledge right under the chicken head.
Sean started to say something but decided not to break his friend's concentration.
Tommy's legs were spread out in an upside down V as he clung to the wall. He eyed the chicken head, knowing what he had to do next but unsure if he could pull it off. There was only one way to find out.
He stretched out his left hand and took his right foot off the ledge. Grabbing the chicken head—first with his left—he swung his weight directly underneath the hold. His right hand shot up quickly, his fingers wrapping around the rock like a vise grip. The muscles in his arms and back strained against gravity, pulling his body up as he stabilized the movement by walking up the wall with his feet.
Tommy felt his shoes touch the next ledge and dug them in hard to keep his balance as he reached up to the lip where the loose rocks were stacked in a semicircle.
"I'm impressed," Sean said. "That was a tough move."
Tommy didn't look down. He was intensely focused on the target just above his head. "Part of my new workout regimen is doing more functional exercises, like rock climbing and pull-ups. I go down to the climbing gym once a week now."
"Well, it's paid off."
The stack of rocks was only a few feet away from Tommy's face. He reached over and pulled away one of the stones from the top, then another, and another, until he'd removed half of the rocks from their resting place.
"I see something," he said. "Looks like a metal box."
He stretched his hand out and grasped the object, pulling it away from the makeshift shelf.
"What is it?" Sean asked, looking up at the thing.
"Um...it's a metal box, like I said."
"Right, but what is it?"
"Not sure." Tommy said. "I'm going to drop it down to you. Don't miss it, okay?"
"I won't," Sean answered, putting his hands out to signal he was ready.
"Seriously. If you let it hit the ground, it could break whatever is in here."
"How do you know it's breakable?"
"Are you ready or not?" Tommy said, an irritated scowl crossing his face. "I can't hold this grip much longer."
"Yeah. I'm ready. Go ahead."
The Sean Wyatt Series Box Set 4 Page 63
