Intimate Details

by Dana Marton

  They listened for any sound that would indicate somebody had heard them. Seconds ticked by, one after the other.

  “We’re okay,” Gina whispered when it seemed nobody was coming to investigate.

  Sam bent and straightened up the mess she’d made.

  They stuck together and found the stairs with-out further incident. Once they were upstairs, Gina tried to keep the layout of the downstairs in mind and figure out where the hidden space was. According to Anita, it had to be on the west side. After a moment, she agreed.

  Nothing there but wall. She knocked on it. Solid brick. She used her penlight to check for signs of a hidden door but found nothing. Other than the main area, a small office shared a wall with the phantom space, as well. They checked that out.

  A desk and chair, file cabinets, a large metal office closet. Boxes stood piled high against the walls. While the place wasn’t sparkling clean in general, the boxes didn’t have any dust on them. Looked as though they’d been brought here recently. There were too many to search right now, but she opened one and pulled out some papers. Odd lettering filled the pages. Russian. She took a few pictures with her camera ring, then put everything back in place.

  Carly tested the door of the office closet, rattling the knob gently to avoid making too much noise. “Locked.”

  Sam came forward with her tool kit and had it open in under a minute.

  They weren’t all that surprised to see another door in the back of the cabinet instead of shelves.

  “Bingo.” Carly grinned.

  Sam was working on that lock already. “This one is a good one,” she said.

  Gina watched as she manipulated the picks like an expert, her facial muscles growing tighter and tighter, her eyes narrowed, her whole being focused on the job. But her efforts didn’t bring results.

  Gina glanced toward the door. If she went and got Cal, maybe he could try one of his gadgets. But then the lock popped and Sam straightened with a self-satisfied grin, and Gina put Cal from her mind.

  The area they discovered was one big room with a central console and a single bed by the wall. Various screens were on, sunk into the desktop, green blips moving.

  “Air and land radar,” Gina said.

  “Some kind of command center.” Carly walked around.

  Dozens of boxes were stored in here, too. Was Tsernyakov moving his operations—or parts of it—here?

  Gina stepped closer to the controls and watched them for a while, compared them to the map on the wall. She could see two small ships not too far off the north of the island. Pirates? Supposedly that was their territory. A larger ship was approaching from the south, looking as though it was heading straight for shore. Odd that it wouldn’t come around to the bay. What would it be doing on the other side of the island?

  The bunkers.

  Was Tsernyakov coming right now to retrieve the virus?

  “Hey, I think—” She bit off the rest as a small noise came from behind her.

  “Hands above your heads. Slowly.” Mark stood in the doorway, pointing a semiautomatic at them.

  She clenched her fists but controlled the need to act on the first impulse, to try to fight their way out. They’d come so far. She hated to fail now. Hated it.

  She assessed the situation. He was alone. There were four of them. Gina gave the others a meaningful look, one by one. The second the guy’s back was turned or he was distracted in any way—

  “Care to tell me what you’re doing here?”

  There was no point trying to make up a story. They’d sneaked into the building in the dark, broken two locks to get this far. There was no innocent explanation.

  “I thought so,” Mark said when no response was forthcoming. “Tie them up.” He stepped aside and two other men came in, armed the same.

  Her knife was stuck in the back of her shorts—not that there was much she could have done with it, anyway. The guns pretty much sealed the outcome of the meeting. Better to stay alive right now so they could attempt an escape later, when the odds improved. She raised her hands along with the others, who seemed to have come to the same conclusion.

  If they were to be tied up, they would be left alive for a while yet. If Mark wanted them dead this second, he could have shot them right there. Nobody was going to question him on this island.

  She let Sergey tie on the nylon restraints, same as the Flex-Cufs she’d used plenty of times before on the job. At least she still had her knife. She was glad now that she hadn’t pulled that at the beginning and so it had remained out of sight. Her hopes were dashed the next second when Sergey patted her down and took it, shaking his head with a leering-slash-mocking expression. She could do nothing but give him a fierce glare. She did balk, however, when he took a small black sack from his pocket and pulled it over her head.

  TSERNYAKOV LOOKED OUT over the city one last time and watched the people below, who were out on the streets even this time of the night. Ignorance, indeed, was bliss. If they knew what awaited them, panic would rule.

  It will. Soon. He’d be watching it on television.

  A heady feeling came with the thought, with this new level of power he wielded. I’m the one who makes it happen.

  He’d never believed in destruction for the sake of an ideal, without monetary profit, but he got a glimpse of something now, the feeling of sheer power that went beyond money—to be the one to hold the lives of millions in the palm of his hand.

  Of course, he would make money on the deal. A lot of it, transferred to him by the School Board within days. He understood them a little better now, but still, he wasn’t the type to abandon his principles from one day to the next. He thought of what was soon to come and for a moment he got dizzy. Then, when that subsided, suddenly aroused.

  He started for the chopper that waited in the middle of the roof and pictured Alexandra at his fortress of a ranch, waiting for him. He would be by her side soon.

  Everything stood ready. He had an elaborate system of defense in place for the handover that was to take place in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. He had a decommissioned destroyer he’d bought off the Russian navy nearly two decades ago. Security was in place, his men keeping vigil by the hundreds.

  He paused as he thought about it.

  Maybe that was it, the nagging doubt he couldn’t shake. Was the plan too big to be concealed? He couldn’t change it now. The date was set, everyone was ready.

  Including his enemies, if he’d been betrayed.

  The chopper lifted into the air and banked to the left.

  His instincts had been prickling for some time, but he couldn’t put a finger on what was setting off his internal alarms. He’d already ordered the execution of a half dozen men in his organization whom he hadn’t been sure about, but even that failed to set his mind at ease.

  He made a split-second decision. He would keep the original plan. For decoy. The handover would take place somewhere else, with as few people as possible. He needed to visit his island anyway, was expected there one of these days. That was nothing out of the ordinary. He did that from time to time. Nobody should get suspicious. A slow smile spread across his face as he leaned back in his seat and gave new instructions to the pilot.

  WERE THEY ALONE FINALLY?

  Gina reached for the hood on her head. From the fact that nobody kicked her in the ribs this time she surmised that their captors had left them. She pulled off the scratchy material but still couldn’t see anything.

  “You guys okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Peachy.”

  “Never better,” came from somewhere in the darkness.

  “Where do you think we are?” Anita asked.

  Gina stood and walked forward with her tied hands extended in front of her. “Sorry,” she said when she bumped into a soft body.

  “Just me,” Sam said.

  She kept going until her hands met something solid. Cardboard boxes? She went around and hit a cement wall after a few steps. “I think we’
re in one of the bunkers.”

  The realization sank any hope she had for a quick getaway. All the bunkers were fully secured. No way they could get out of here unless Cal came by and unlocked the keypad with his gadget watch from the outside. But Cal had no idea they were here. How long would it take him to realize that they were missing? Would he think of the bunkers? Would Mark tell him what had happened in the middle of the night? Would Cal come for them or would he take the yacht to his connection? The virus, no matter what, took priority.

  There was a third option, too, one she didn’t want to think about. Had Cal betrayed them? The thought chilled her. Was that why Mark had been keeping an eye on them and caught them breaking in? Was that why Sergey had known she had the knife?

  Had Cal given in to his misguided feelings of guilt over going against family? Or had he not had any scruples at all from the beginning and all his soul-searching and doubts had been for her benefit? Could all her cop instincts fail her this spectacularly? Had she completely lost her edge while she’d been in the can?

  She cringed when she thought back to the way she’d let him touch her, the way she’d given her body to him. Had she been blinded by lust? She wanted to rage and beat her head against the wall. She wanted to get her hands on him and do whatever it took to get the truth out of the man.

  But there was nothing she could do about him right now. They would have to get out of here first. She thought over all that had happened that night, focusing on the blip on the radar. “I think we’re about to have company.”

  “What are you talking about?” Carly asked from nearby.

  She told them what she’d seen in the command room and what she thought of it.

  “Could be more pirates.” Anita attempted remaining positive.

  She wished she could be like that. “This is a big boat, heading straight for this side of the island.”

  “But it’s not the twenty-seventh yet,” Sam protested.

  That gave her a little hope.

  Some muffled sounds came from above. She thought it was mechanical but couldn’t be sure. Could be a helicopter, could be the wind in the trees. It stopped after a few seconds.

  “Which bunker are we in?” Anita asked.

  Gina had told the others all about the exploration she had conducted with Cal. They’d seen the blueprints she had drawn up. She nearly groaned aloud at the thought of having given all that information to Cal along with every bit of intelligence they had managed to collect since they’d been on the island. She’d figured he would be less likely to be searched. He had burned all their drawings. The urge to bang her head into the wall returned. She no longer even had her camera ring. Mark’s men had stripped them of everything but their clothes.

  Everything they’d worked for since they’d arrived on the island was gone.

  “Are we where the virus is?” Carly asked from somewhere in the darkness.

  “Let me see.” Gina moved along the wall and measured the space. Better to do something, anything, than to think about Cal’s possible betrayal. She didn’t want to believe that he had put on an act all along. Surely not when he’d kissed her or when they’d been in the kitchen. She hated that even now her body remembered as she thought of what had happened between them—remembered and responded.

  Had he seduced her to gain her trust? God, she’d been an easy mark. She’d been attracted to him from the moment they’d first fallen from the ceiling.

  That thought gave her hope. He had been spying on Mark. She’d been there, seen it with her own eyes. What other explanation could there be? Maybe he was telling the truth and was on his way even now to save them.

  And maybe she was in denial just like all those people she’d met in the course of her work who couldn’t face the fact that someone they cared about could be bad. Except that she didn’t care about Cal. Attracted, yes. There was nothing beyond that. It would have been madness.

  She came to a large hole in the wall, the beginning of a tunnel, walled off evenly. “We’re definitely not in the bunker with the virus. That was smaller and had a long tunnel in the back.”

  “They might not even come back here,” Anita said. “They might take the virus and leave.”

  The thought of being left indefinitely in the tomblike space settled into her chest, a hard, cold presence, adding to the weight of Cal’s possible betrayal.

  “You said there were supplies in the bunkers,” Carly remarked. “Maybe it’s for after, when the world is in chaos. Eventually they’ll come back for what they stashed here.”

  “Could be.” Maybe Tsernyakov’s men had no plans to kill them just now. If the transfer was taking place soon, they might have their hands full already. Maybe they were holding them for a leisurely torture to find out who sent them. Mark had asked precious few questions.

  Maybe because he had the answers from Cal already.

  She bumped into another row of boxes as she moved forward. “At least we won’t die of thirst or starvation while we’re waiting for them to return,” she said, remembering the MREs and water jugs.

  “We have to get out of here before they come for us,” Sam said, stating the obvious. Judging from her voice, she was moving around, too.

  “We can’t get through the door,” Anita said from the direction of the door. “Do you have your tool kit?” she asked Sam.

  “They took it.”

  “You said each bunker had tunnels.” Carly’s voice came from the back wall now.

  “All collapsed or walled in.”

  “Are you sure we can’t dig ourselves out?”

  “With what? Our bare hands?” She reached up to push a box off the top. Her throat was parched. The others had to be feeling the same.

  “People did that,” Sam said. “Remember the stories?”

  “Tales of impossible prison escapes inmates like to entertain each other with. Even if anything like that did happen, it must have taken years.” She didn’t think they had more than a couple of days at best. “I’m getting something to drink,” she warned so they wouldn’t be startled by the crash, then pushed the box over.

  It hit the floor with a loud bang.

  “Where is the air coming from?” Anita asked.

  Gina stopped in midmotion as she was reaching blindly for a bottle. “I don’t know.” She straightened. There definitely was a slight breeze. “Where do you feel it the strongest?” She moved around, rotating her face, trying to find the source of the air stream. “Sorry,” she said when she bumped into someone.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Carly said.

  “Right here,” Anita was calling from somewhere on her left.

  She moved that way and collided with Carly again. Then they reached Anita.

  “It’s coming from above.” Gina turned her face toward the ceiling. Cool night air streamed in a steady flow. “Makes sense that there would be a ventilation hole somewhere.”

  “Let’s see how big it is,” Carly said. “I’m the tallest. I’ll be on the bottom.”

  “Come on, Sam.” Gina turned toward the sound that came from behind her. “You’re the lightest. Up you go.”

  Sam bumped into her. “I’m here.”

  “I’ll help you up.”

  “Step into my hands,” Carly said.

  Sam did as she was told, and Gina pushed her, then held her feet for added support once she was standing on Carly’s shoulders.

  “Careful,” Anita said next to them. “What do you feel?”

  “An opening in the ceiling. Square.”

  “Can you fit through?”

  “Yes.”

  They breathed a collective sigh of relief.

  “Can you pull yourself up and see where it leads?”

  “It’s blocked.”

  “Can we get out that way?”

  Sam’s weight shifted as she heaved against something that made a loud scraping noise. “There’s a metal grid closing off the way.”

  “Push as hard as you can.”

  “I
’m doing it,” Sam bit back, her voice strained, betraying the effort she put into the work. “It’s not budging.”

  “Let me try,” Gina said, frustrated and impatient. She was in pretty good shape. She got used to working out when she’d been on the force, then kept up with it in prison and even after they’d gotten out.

  She helped Sam to the ground.

  “Can you handle me or would you prefer to rest first?” she asked Carly.

  “Let’s try this,” she said.

  Gina grabbed on to the woman’s shoulder as best she could with her hands tied together, thankful for Anita and Sam, who were pushing her from behind. They held her ankles when she was all the way up.

  She found the opening in the ceiling easily and reached inside, touched the metal, shook it. Rust came away on her hands. The bars gave a little but not nearly enough. She pushed with everything she had in her but couldn’t get anything beyond a minuscule movement. If her hands weren’t tied, she could do better. She swore silently and tried again. The damn thing had to be up there for how many decades? The bunker had been built during WWII. Why couldn’t the tropical weather have eaten through it by now? She tried again.

  “I’m coming down,” she said after another failure. She wanted to give Carly a break.

  “Now what?” Sam asked.

  “The thigh muscles are one of the strongest in the body,” Carly remarked. “What if you tried upside down? Gave it a good kick?”

  “Can that be done?” Anita’s voice held cautious excitement.

  “We won’t know until we try. Let’s rest a few minutes first so you can hold me for a while. I want to be able to get in as many kicks in as short a time as possible,” Gina said. “Water anyone?” She went back in the direction of the box she’d busted open and searched the ground, came up with a bottle.

  The others accepted the offer.

  They took a three-minute break, then Carly, Sam and Anita made a group-hug-like formation and she got on top, rested her shoulders on theirs. She lifted her legs toward the ceiling, balancing carefully. Once again they supported her with their hands. The bottom of her shoes touched the ceiling before she could have straightened her feet.