Pineapple Pack II

by Amy Vansant

  Charlotte scurried behind the bar to Darla. “They know we have no way of reaching anyone. They cut the phone lines. But they can get to Frank.”

  “Get to Frank?” Darla took a moment and then gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. “You mean they’ll threaten to kill him if we don’t come out.”

  “Sheriff Frank, eh?” said the voice outside.

  Charlotte closed her eyes, breath releasing from her body.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Something on the roof of the disco rattled and all eyes trained upward. The glittery ball hanging in the center of the dance floor shook and began to slowly spin.

  “I think you have pigeons,” said Stephanie. She grabbed her gun from the bar top and shot once through the ceiling in one fluid movement.

  Caught off guard, the ladies behind the bar released a string of yelps.

  A second later they heard someone outside call out, a scuffling noise on the roof, and then a loud Oof! at the front of the building.

  “Did someone fall? Did you get him?” asked Darla.

  Stephanie shrugged and set her gun back down.

  “Don’t start shooting,” snapped Declan, visibly angry.

  Stephanie rolled her eyes. “I’ve had enough of this.” She strode toward the front door. “Pirro! Go away. Let me get rid of these people and you can have the building.”

  “Hey!” called Jackie.

  Seamus held up a hand, asking her to be quiet.

  “That you in there, Rubia?” asked Pirro.

  Stephanie put a hand on her hip. “Leave or I’ll kill you all. How about that? Nice and slow, too.”

  Darla’s eyes bulged. “Would she do that?”

  “I told you she was up to no good,” muttered Mariska.

  Pirro called back. “I don’t think so, Rubia. You killed my friend.”

  “Actually Pirro killed his friend,” offered Declan. “If Pirro is the redhead. We saw it on the security cameras.”

  Stephanie grinned and called outside. “Hey, clown—you killed your friend, didn’t you?”

  There was a pause. “No. You killed him.”

  “There are cameras, moron. We saw you kill him.”

  “He was going to die anyway. I put him out of his pain.”

  Stephanie glanced at Declan. “He has a point. I get to count that one.”

  Declan frowned and Stephanie’s expression flashed regret, as if she’d been hoping Declan would high-five her for the kill. Charlotte found the exchange curious.

  That almost looked like she’d wanted Declan’s approval.

  Maybe Stephanie still had feelings for Declan after all... She’d always assumed the vicious blonde just had a bad case of wanting what she couldn’t have. For the first time, Charlotte felt a little sorry for her.

  “You come out or we’ll shoot you out,” called Pirro, bringing the conversation full circle.

  “Do you really want to mess up your boss’s building?” asked Stephanie.

  There was a pause. “You come out or we’ll kill Sheriff Frank.”

  Darla yipped. “What have I done?”

  Charlotte’s nervous stomach did another flip. Not only were they all already in danger, but she had no way to warn Frank of the trouble headed his way. They were trapped like rats, though rats always seemed to find a way out—

  Charlotte paused, picturing rats in a sewer scurrying through the tunnels.

  Something clicked.

  Charlotte pulled the map from her pocket and unfolded it on the bar.

  “I thought they wanted to build a road here from another facility.”

  “What’s that?” asked Declan, moving towards her.

  “This map Jackie found in the parking lot. I realized this loose jumble of boxes actually fits the room pattern of the club.”

  Declan placed a finger on the map. “You’re right. This part is definitely the club. And this is the road?”

  “There’s no road there now,” said Jackie, rising just high enough to peek at the map.

  “That’s what I thought at first. A road, right? But it isn’t a road. The lines are dashed. It’s a tunnel.”

  “An existing tunnel?”

  “I don’t know. But if it is, we can get out of here.” Charlotte looked at Jackie, whose expression filled with worry.

  “I don’t know anything about a tunnel.”

  Charlotte studied the map. I have to be right. The lines that led away from the building—if the dashed-line tube it created was drawn to scale with the rest of the rooms, it wasn’t a road or some sort of hamster tube. It was man-sized. And what was a giant, man-sized hamster tube but...a tunnel.

  “It leads from this side of the building. Is there a basement?”

  Jackie snorted a laugh. “In Florida?”

  Charlotte nodded. Of course not. Especially not here in the swamp.

  “That’s a good point,” said Declan. “How did they build a tunnel through the swamp?”

  Charlotte considered her hamster tube analogy. “Some sort of piping maybe? Oh no...Jackie, you said you reinforced the walls. Did you do the whole building?”

  Declan’s shoulder’s slumped. “Right. She would have found the tunnel if it was there.”

  Jackie nodded. “We went around the whole building...except...” She turned and stared at the bar shelving. On either side of the giant wooden structure Charlotte could see the walls had been built out by the cement block, effectively embedding the bar in the wall.

  Charlotte finished Jackie’s sentence. “Except behind the bar. Please tell me the bar was here when you bought the club?”

  Jackie nodded. “It was. It’s why I bought the place. It felt like it was fate.”

  “Who did you buy it from?”

  “Um...some group called Georgette Enterprises.”

  Stephanie perked. “Georgette Enterprises? That’s Louis’s mom. His father named one of his companies after her. Louis told me the whole boring story.”

  “So that’s why Louis and Pirro know about the tunnel,” said Charlotte.

  “Could they take the tunnel to get to us?” asked Declan.

  Charlotte stared up at the bar back. “Maybe they could...but there’s no point. Even if they have access to the other side, they think it’s sealed on this side. Behind the bar.”

  Charlotte locked eyes with Stephanie and pointed to the front door. “Stall Pirro. Don’t let him send people for Frank.”

  She turned to Jackie.

  “Sweetheart, I’m afraid we’re going to have to destroy your bar.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Declan appeared with a hammer in his hand.

  “Couldn’t find an axe?” asked Charlotte.

  “Sadly, no. I spotted this back in the utility room during our check, though.”

  Jackie stood, seemingly dumbstruck, gaping at the hammer in Declan’s hand.

  “Do you have a fire axe or something like that here?” he asked.

  Jackie continued to stare at the hammer.

  “Jackie.”

  Darla poked at her friend and Jackie jerked back into the present. “What?”

  “Declan asked you if you have an axe.”

  “An axe?”

  “Like a lumberjack.”

  “No. Why would I have an axe?” Jackie looked at Charlotte. “You’re not thinking about axing my beautiful bar, are you?”

  Charlotte crossed her arms over her chest. “We could stay here and die if you prefer.”

  “Or they could kidnap and kill Frank,” added Darla.

  Jackie put her face in her hands. “This is terrible. Fine. Do what you have to do but I don’t have to watch.”

  Mariska patted her on the shoulder. “We’ll remove all the bottles and glasses first.”

  Jackie nodded and everyone but Stephanie began clearing the shelves.

  “I’m running out of ideas for stalling them,” said Stephanie.

  Charlotte stared at the ceiling, thinking. “Just make small talk. Do you have share
d history you could wax poetic about?”

  “Wax poetic? Do I look like Edgar Allan Poe?” Stephanie looked at Declan. “Where did you get this one?”

  “Just talk,” said Declan.

  Stephanie huffed and called to Pirro. “Remember that time you kidnapped Rico’s corner thug? Did you cut off his ear or his finger first?”

  Pirro laughed. Mariska’s eyes grew wide as golf balls. Each time Stephanie recalled another appalling thing Pirro had done, all heads turned to stare at her in horror. Pirro guffawed and gabbed like the standoff was a coffee clutch.

  Charlotte suspected Pirro was stalling for time, too, but couldn’t work out why.

  As soon as the bar shelves were clear of glassware, Seamus hauled back the mallet he’d been impatiently cuddling and started smashing. Wood split in two and exploded from the cabinet. Jackie moaned.

  Declan grabbed Seamus’s arm before he could swing again. “Shhh.”

  “What?”

  “The shelves pull out. Just remove them. And try not to make so much noise. We don’t want Pirro to know what we’re up to.”

  Seamus scowled. “How would he know we’re destroying Jackie’s bar?”

  “We don’t know what he knows. He might know about the tunnel. He might be the guy who dropped that map in the first place.”

  “Hm. Good point, boyo.”

  They removed the shelves. Charlotte rapped the back of the bar, searching for a likely spot to start bashing.

  “Sounds like there’s a wall behind this side.”

  Seamus followed her lead and knocked on the opposite side. “Here too.”

  Declan tapped on the center. The sound made his expression darken. “This doesn’t sound promising either.”

  “Just hit it,” suggested Seamus.

  Declan took a deep breath and pulled back his hammer. “Here goes nothing.”

  Thrusting forward, hammer met wood. The veneer cracked. Charlotte thought she heard something crack and tumble to the ground behind the wall.

  She winced. She’d seen the power with which Declan hit the back of the bar, only to be denied. While the wood was cracked, they hadn’t made any real progress. Behind her, she could hear Stephanie running out of ways to delay Pirro’s wrath.

  “Yikes. That didn’t go far.”

  Declan took a few more swings, pausing for different time periods between each strike to keep Pirro from noticing an obvious hammering pattern ringing from inside. After the fourth swing, he put down the tool and clawed at the cracked wood. Wedging his fingers behind a sizable chunk, he peeled it back to reveal red brick.

  “I thought you said you didn’t have them brick this wall,” he said to Jackie.

  “They didn’t. I had them concrete block everything. I never saw them with bricks.”

  Declan grimaced. “They must have bricked up the tunnel before they built the bar in front of it.”

  Charlotte nodded. “Right. Of course. They never would have been able to sell the place with a giant drug tunnel attached to it.”

  Declan wiped his brow. “This is slow-going. There must be two layers of brick here.”

  Charlotte craned her neck to survey the bar. She remembered seeing something that might help. Columns. Jackie had some decorative Greek columns stacked in a corner of the dancefloor.

  “I have an idea, but I need to know if those columns over there are real.”

  Jackie followed where Charlotte pointed and nodded. “Yes, they are. They weigh a ton.”

  “You’re thinking we could use them as a battering ram?” asked Seamus.

  She nodded. “There isn’t a ton of room to get it swinging with the rest of the bar here, but I’m thinking maybe the shorter one?”

  Declan and Seamus moved to the dance floor and returned with the shortest column. The two men held the cement column low and after a few practice swings, pounded the wall as hard as they could. Charlotte heard some of the internal bricks fall to the ground, and soon they had a hole big enough for even the broadest of them to fit through.

  “What are you doing in there?” roared Pirro from outside.

  “We’re bored. Decided to redecorate,” returned Stephanie.

  “Flashlight, hurry,” said Declan.

  Jackie ran into her office and appeared with a large LED flashlight. Everyone in Florida always had a good-sized flashlight handy. Electric lines and Florida storms constantly wrestled for the belt.

  Declan pointed the light into the tunnel, only to find another brick wall stood four feet into the hole.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” mumbled Declan.

  “We’re going to die,” said Mariska.

  “Wait—” Declan dropped the beam downward. “There’s a ladder here. It’s like we’re at the top of a manhole.”

  “Right, we’re too high here. The tunnel has to be below the foundation.”

  “But you said that’s impossible in Florida,” said Darla.

  Declan crawled through the hole they’d created and climbed down the ladder.

  “It’s a giant pipeline down here,” he called back to the group.

  “All good?” asked Seamus, his head stuck through the hole in the wall.

  There was a pause. “Looks good. Start moving people.”

  Seamus helped Darla, Jackie and Mariska through the hole.

  A loud crashing sound echoed from the front of the building. Apparently, Pirro and his men had decided they’d waited long enough to break down the door. Charlotte could see the building shake with every crash. Whatever they were using as a battering ram, it was more effective than Seamus’s rubber mallet. Charlotte suspected it was a vehicle they’d been waiting to arrive. This reinforced her hunch—Pirro had needed to delay as much as they did.

  “You’re next,” said Seamus to Charlotte.

  Declan called up the ladder. “Seamus—get Stephanie’s gun. We’ll need protection front and back.”

  Seamus looked at Stephanie.

  “Good luck with that,” she said, gun in hand.

  “You want to protect the back?” asked Charlotte.

  Stephanie opened the revolver, counted her remaining bullets and slammed it closed. “I’ll stay here.”

  Charlotte scowled. “You couldn’t have more than five bullets in there.”

  “Four.”

  “They’re going to kill you.”

  Stephanie shook her head. “Pirro wouldn’t dare.”

  “We can’t just leave you here.”

  Stephanie smiled. “Just go, Susie Sunshine.”

  Charlotte looked to Seamus, but he only shrugged and ushered her to the tunnel. With one last glance back at Stephanie, she stepped through the hole, turning to negotiate the ladder. She needed to concentrate on keeping her footing, but her mind swirled with the endless possibilities awaiting them at the end of the tunnel.

  What if the other side was bricked off as well? We’d be sitting ducks in a tunnel.

  Nothing about their plan seemed certain.

  There was another crash at the front door.

  Time to move.

  Charlotte climbed down the ladder. At the bottom she saw the others huddling inside what appeared to be a long metal tube, empty and smooth but for where the lip of one section met the next.

  Declan held up his gun for Charlotte to see. “I’m going to lead the way for now.”

  Seamus climbed down.

  “Do you have the gun?” asked Declan.

  “Procuring madam’s weapon was easier said than done.”

  “Is she coming?”

  “She is not.”

  “We can’t leave her up there.”

  “She says they can’t kill her.”

  “Why?”

  Seamus shrugged.

  Even in the dim light Charlotte could see Declan wasn’t happy. Another crash echoed from above.

  “Okay. We don’t have time. Let’s go. Watch the back Seamus. First sign of anything let me know.”

  Declan squeezed past the ladies a
nd led the way.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  They hustled through the alien landscape of metal tubing for ten minutes before Declan motioned for them to stop. From the back of the pack, Charlotte could see his flashlight rise into the air and illuminate bars protruding from the wall. He’d found another ladder.

  They clustered close as Declan mounted the rungs, flashlight beneath his arm. He struggled to open the hatch.

  “I’ll hold the light on it,” suggested Charlotte.

  He handed down the flashlight and she directed the beam on the hatch, revealing a metal pin on a chain tucked along the edge. Declan removed it to release the lock. The hatch swung up and open. Sunlight flooded into the tunnel, the group collectively shielding their eyes from the glare.

  Declan pulled his phone from his pocket and attempted a call. A moment later he descended again.

  “Swamp. I think we’re better off continuing through the tunnel.”

  “No signal?” asked Darla, though they all knew his response.

  “Nothing yet. I suspect these escape hatches are scattered along the way. Emergency escape routes.”

  “Isn’t it safer out of this pipe?” asked Jackie.

  Declan shook his head. “You know the hellish bogs the news shows in the background whenever they run a story about the guys hunting pythons in the swamp?”

  Mariska grimaced. “Gotcha. Think I’ll take my chances in here.”

  “Isn’t disappearing into the muck better than being mowed down by druggies?” asked Jackie.

  “I think druggies are the people who take the drugs, not the people who sell them,” said Mariska.

  Jackie’s eyes grew wild. “You know what I mean!”

  Seamus moved to put his arm around his girlfriend. Charlotte didn’t need the glow of Declan’s flashlight to see Jackie had run out of coping mechanisms. The woman was having a monumentally bad day.

  Declan did his best to move past the tension. “It’s too dangerous out there. Too easy to get lost. Let’s hope the next exit has a path to civilization.”

  “And a phone signal,” muttered Darla.

  They continued their hurried walk down the pipeline. A few steps into their travels, Charlotte did an about-face and jogged back to the ladder. In the dying glow of the far-off flashlight, she peered at the hatch deep in thought.