"Got it," Kaye Killgore replied.
"Agents Norman, Anthony and Singh, I want you up on the top of the ridge right away looking for vents."
"Do we search on the way up?" Agent Anthony asked.
"No. Just get to the top. The sooner we find the vents, the sooner we know we're in the right area." To Ben, Natassia and Brandon, she said, "The four of us will be searching the rocks from the ground up. I want every inch of this area searched. We're looking for a solid rock door. Ben, how do we get inside?"
"According to the plans, there's a key tucked in a hole drilled into the rocks to the right of the door and about waist high."
"Okay everyone, fan out," she ordered. "Keep your 'coms on my frequency and flashlights on high. We don't want to miss anything."
They split up into their designated teams, and the search was on.
As they headed for the rocks, Brandon pulled her aside. "Jasi, are you sure you don't want to go after Paxton? We can handle things here, you know."
"This can't wait. Paxton can. Matthew has him under surveillance. And Paxton is our best bet at catching the others in the hunt club." The crisp night air sent a shiver up her spine. "We have to hurry, Brandon."
An hour into the search they'd turned up nothing but scratches and bruises.
Jasi heaved a sigh of frustration. "We know it's here. Keep looking." She activated her 'com and connected to Agent Norman. "You guys see anything?"
"Nothing."
Her watch indicated it was almost 10:30 p.m. Clouds had rolled in, obscuring the sliver of moon that hovered above them. Even with flashlights in hand and the helicopter flying overhead with its search beam on high, the rocks around them presented a maze of possible injury.
"You sure you don't want to wait until morning?" Brandon asked. "We could start out at first light."
She shook her head. "You heard what Hawley told me. We have to find this bunker before it's too late."
"Agent McLellan!" Agent Norman's voice sounded over her 'com. "We've got something."
"Give us your location."
He read out the coordinates. "I think I see your flashlights. Keep heading south."
Jasi and Brandon made their way over and around boulders and crevices, using the GPS system on her 'com. Every now and then she peered up, hoping to catch a glimpse of light from Agent Norman and his team.
"Over there," Brandon said, pointing up and toward her right. "See them?"
"We're closing in on your location," she told Agent Norman. "How many vents do you see?"
"Three. They're spaced out approximately twenty feet apart, heading further south from my current position."
"Call Natassia and Ben," she told Brandon. "Tell them to meet us. And tell Agents Anthony and Killgore to meet us inside the bunker."
While he followed behind, she continued picking her way across the rocks.
Ten minutes later, she reached an area of rock that seemed out of place.
"Looks like someone's done some blasting around here," Brandon said, sliding his hand along the surface of one boulder. "Some of these have been sheared clean."
"The bunker door has to be around here somewhere."
While Brandon aimed both flashlights on the rocks, Jasi inched along a small shelf, feeling the wall of rock as she went. "They wouldn't have made it easy to find. The entire purpose of the bunker was so they could hide what they were doing."
Another five minutes and Jasi's hands were raw.
"How about we trade places?" Brandon said.
"I'm smaller."
When he let out a grunt, she laughed. "I just meant that it's easier for me to walk along this shelf."
Lights winked a few yards away, moving closer. Natassia and Ben.
"What do you want us to do?" Ben asked.
"The vents are above and to the south," Jasi told them. "Natassia, see if you can make your way about twenty feet from me. You keep heading south. Ben, make sure she has plenty of light."
As Natassia and Ben set off, Jasi shouted, "Check your GPS for Agent Norman's position. He's right above us."
She thought of what Hawley had told her, and panic rose in her chest.
What if Lazarus booby-trapped the bunker?
"We have to be careful, Brandon. We don't know what we're walking into."
She watched as he shone the flashlights over an area of rock not far from Natassia and Ben's position. Shadows fought with the light, making it challenging to see any detail.
Something twinkled.
She almost missed it. "Wait! Go back."
Brandon skimmed the rocks with the light. "Did you see something?"
"I thought I did, over…" She squinted. "There!"
A tiny shimmer reflected back at them.
"There's something metal in that boulder." She sprinted toward it, praying she was right, while Brandon maintained a close target on the sliver of metal. As they drew nearer, she let out a laugh. "It's the key!"
Brandon messaged the other teams. "We found the key."
Sure enough, a long metal key protruded about half an inch from a hole in the rock. Unless someone knew where to look, they'd never see it.
She removed the key and held it up to the flashlight. "It's custom made."
"Wonder why they didn't go with an electronic keypad," Brandon said.
"Maybe they wanted to ensure that any hunt club member could get inside. This way they didn't have to worry about anyone forgetting a passcode."
"True. And in the case of generator failure, they could still access the bunker."
"The door has to be to the left."
She hopped over a slippery rock slab that obstructed her path. With caution, she touched the smooth rock face. It emitted such a chill that she shivered. She stretched higher, trying to discern if there was any kind of seal or door frame.
A gasp escaped her mouth when she touched a clean horizontal and then vertical ridge. "I found the edge of the door."
"Wait for us," Ben called a few feet away.
Seconds later, Jasi found the keyhole, which had been cleverly concealed by a thin wedge of rock that swiveled to one side.
Once Natassia and Ben reached her side, she looked at Brandon. "Ready?"
She slipped the key into the keyhole and turned it. The locking mechanism made a loud clunking sound, then the door hissed and swung out about three inches. Behind the door, lights hummed and flickered.
When Brandon pushed the door open, Jasi battled temporary blindness as brilliant light encompassed her. She stepped inside and followed a narrow passageway until it opened, revealing a spacious room.
"Wow," she said. "This is unbelievable."
The room was set up like a living room, with two sofas and two recliners. A small poker table and four chairs sat next to a well-stocked bar. The opposite side of the room housed a computer desk and a high-end laptop. Further down a central hall, a compact kitchen with every modern convenience was visible.
"Quite the opposite of Sanctuary and its lack of technology," she said. "Natassia, check the computer and copy any data on it."
"Are you suggesting I hack into someone's computer without a warrant?" Natassia winked. "I'm on it."
"We don't have a choice. If this place does have a self-destruct mode, I don't want to lose any evidence. And if we're lucky, that computer will lead us to every single hunt club member." She inhaled deeply.
"You ready for this?" Brandon asked.
"I am." She straightened. "I'll keep an eye out for sensors and possible explosives. Everyone else stay behind me until I say otherwise."
As she strode down the hall, her eyes darted left, right, up, down, scouring every inch of wall and floor.
So far, so good.
"There's a bathroom down here," she called out.
A quick peek inside told her the bathroom was empty.
Further down the hallway she came to a door. She opened it. "Storage closet."
"Looks like a bedroom on the other side," Brand
on said over her shoulder.
"I thought I told you to stay back," she snapped.
"I tried that. But we're a team. Where you go, I go."
With a sigh, she motioned for him to follow. They entered the bedroom. Four bunk beds, a desk and a bookshelf.
"What if Hawley was lying?" she said.
"It's possible. But why? How would he benefit?"
She shrugged. "I don't know."
"We'll keep looking," Brandon assured her.
The hallway ended with a set of double doors.
Maybe this is it.
She examined the doors. "They don't appear to be wired."
Hesitating, she eased open one of the doors. "Shit. It's another damn closet."
This one had multiple shelves with electronics, batteries and boxes of ammunition. But it was what was on the inside of the doors that captured her attention—two rifles, a crossbow, a Japanese katana and a dagger, all displayed like works of art.
"Hawley said each hunter could select the weapon of their choice. Most had their favorites."
She sniffed the rifle barrels. "They've been fired recently."
She slipped on a pair of latex gloves and lifted the sword from its wall mount on the door. "I think if we swab this, we'll find blood. Same with the dagger."
Using her data-com, she took photographs of the closet and weapons.
"Let's rejoin the others," she said.
As soon as they returned to the living room, she saw Natassia sitting dutifully at the computer. "Any luck?"
"Oh yeah. I'm in."
"You are good," Brandon said.
Natassia raised her head. "Was there really any doubt?"
Brandon chuckled. "No."
"Anything to be worried about?" Ben asked Jasi.
"If this place is rigged, I can't see it. And we looked everywhere. The floor is solid rock so no worries about IEDs in the floor. No motions sensors. No cameras."
"You find anything else?"
"An assortment of weapons, most likely the ones used on each victim. We need swabs and finger prints."
"I have an evidence kit in my backpack. Just point me in the right direction."
"Straight down the hall. Doors at the very end. You can't miss them."
Agents Anthony and Norman entered the bunker.
"Where's Agent Singh?" Jasi asked.
"He's flagging all the vents," Agent Norman said. "And taking readings to ensure we won't have to worry about biohazards."
A shudder raced up her spine. "Biohazards?"
"It's just a precaution."
"How about you make sure the door stays open?" She shuddered. "I'd feel a lot better if I knew we had a quick escape route."
Agent Norman gave a nod. "Done."
Her eyes wandered over the room and sadness crept over her, threatening to pull her under. She'd been hoping for one ray of light, one small miracle…one blessed reward. But that wasn't going to happen.
"Here," Brandon said, placing the blueprint in her hand.
"I don't get it," she said with an exasperated groan. "We've searched every nook in this place. Hawley lied."
Behind them, Agent Anthony cleared his throat.
She whipped around. "Yes?"
"It's just that…I…uh…well—"
"For crying out loud, Jay," Natassia snapped. "If you've got something to say, say it. We don't have all day."
"Natassia's right," Jasi said.
The kid sucked in a breath. "The floor plan for this place doesn't match the layout we're looking at."
"How?"
Agent Anthony took a few steps closer and held out one hand. "If you give me the plan, I'll show you."
She passed him the blueprint and watched as he spread it out over the poker table, anchoring the corners with four heavy glass tumblers.
"Here's where we are," he said, pointing. "There's the bathroom, bedroom and the oversized storage closet at the end of the hall."
"Okay." She squinted. "I don't see the problem."
"Here's where that other closet is." He indicated an area of the living room. "It was added later."
"But that space is huge."
"Exactly. There's something behind the—"
Jasi didn't wait for the kid to complete his sentence. She rushed toward the smaller closet, threw open the door and felt around the wood shelves until her fingers came into contact with a lever.
She pulled on it.
A whirring sound accompanied a soft vibration, and a sliver of space could be seen on the right side of the back wall. There was no light behind it, only a rush of warm, pungent air.
"This is it," she said. "The moment of truth. And no matter what we find here, Hawley and his cohorts are going down hard."
She pressed the door, stepped inside and was devoured by darkness.
26
Hawley's words echoed in her ear. "Agent McLellan, what if I told you we still had one little rabbit kept in quarantine?"
"What do you mean?" she had demanded.
"Lazarus already selected the woman for the next hunt."
"Who?"
"I think he said her name was Jenny. I don't know—I never paid attention to their names. But I guess I screwed things up. Not something I'm proud of. I thought the incinerator would run for hours and there'd be nothing left of my prey except ash. Oh, and the head. A real prize that one."
The sheer bliss in his eyes made her shiver. She wanted to bash his face. The man was a demented psychopath.
"Get back to the other woman, Hawley. Where is she?"
"Lazarus kept her in our lair. But once the RCMP and you all showed up, he had to leave her there."
"Are you saying there's a victim who is still alive?"
Hawley smirked. "Well, she was a few days ago. I can't promise anything now. Who knows what tricks Lazarus had up his sleeve. He could have the place wired with C4 or on zero oxygen."
"Oh my God."
"You'd better hurry, Agent McLellan. I suspect time is running out."
Now as she stood in the shadows, she wondered whether Hawley had told the truth. The room seemed empty. Nothing moved. Not one sound.
No sign of life.
She gagged at the nauseating stench that lingered in the air.
"Brandon," she called. "I need light."
In the doorway, Brandon visibly held his breath and tucked a flashlight into her hand. "Careful."
"Don't worry. I'm not taking another step until I know what to expect. Whatever you do, you stay here. That's a direct order."
"Staying right here," he repeated.
She could tell by his clenched jaw that he wasn't happy.
"Brandon, I'll call you as soon as I know it's safe."
"Be sure you do."
She flicked on the light and aimed the beam in a slow sweep over the room. Boxes of food were stacked in one corner, blankets and pillows next to the food.
She aimed the light at the floor by her feet. No drop-offs, no wires, no surprises.
"I'm going in further," she said.
A metal shelf with canned goods separated the room into two areas.
She peered into the void behind it. "I think I see something."
Heart pounding in her chest, she stepped behind the shelf and shone the light across the room. A few feet away from where she stood she found the source of the odor. A bucket. Someone had used it as a toilet.
She inched forward, holding her breath, as the beam from the flashlight illuminated a heap of what looked like laundry in the far corner.
She heard a faint sound. "Hello?"
Nothing.
"I'm with the CFBI," she said. "Come on out."
A blanket on top of the pile moved, subtle but there.
With quick strides, she crossed the room, grabbed a corner of the blanket and peeled it back. "Oh Jesus."
A woman dressed only in panties and a bra lay sprawled on her back on the concrete floor. She was in bad shape, barely conscious. Her lips, eyes and cheek
s were discolored, cut and swollen. Both arms were dotted with what looked like handprints. Her short hair was so caked with sweat, dirt and blood that it was impossible to identify the color.
"She's here!" Jasi felt for a pulse. "And she's alive!"
She glanced up and found Brandon beside her.
"Let me take her," he said.
When they emerged from the hidden room, he placed the woman on the sofa, while Jasi tried to rouse her.
"Everyone, stay back," she said. "We don’t want to frighten her."
Bruised eyelids twitched.
"That's it. Open your eyes."
The woman whimpered.
"We're with the CFBI. You're safe. I promise."
The woman's eyelids fluttered. Her left eye opened. It was filled with fear.
"Jennifer…Jenny?"
The woman's mouth opened and closed, and her swollen eyes streamed with tears as she struggled to speak. With a scared moan, she pushed up on her elbows.
Brandon placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Don't try to sit up all the way. You could have internal injuries." He positioned a pillow under her head for support.
Natassia handed Jasi a glass of water. "She's dehydrated."
Jasi held the glass of water to the woman's cracked lips. "I know you're thirsty. It's been at least two days since anyone's been here. Drink."
As the woman sipped, she said a silent prayer. Finally something had gone right. Though it would take weeks before Jennifer Phillips's injuries were healed, and probably years of counseling, she'd survived. Not everyone had. Some of the victims' families would have closure, but not all.
The woman pushed the glass away.
"You should drink more water, Jennifer."
"My…" Her voice was hoarse from dehydration and most likely screaming and crying.
Jasi leaned closer. "Take your time."
"Name…"
"Your name?"
"Share…"
As the pieces fell into place, Jasi gasped. "Oh my God."
"What's wrong?" Brandon asked.
"This isn't Jennifer Phillips."
"Then who is she?"
"Sheral," the woman rasped. "Downham."
Jasi looked at Brandon. "Cameron's reporter friend."
A multitude of emotions swept through her, from disbelief to joy to relief. She'd found Cameron's friend. Alive.
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