Guns and the Girl Next Door

by HelenKay Dimon

  “Well, it’s wrong because I’m actually unemployed.”

  She pushed branches out of her way as she walked. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Why?”

  “Other than the fact you don’t look like the lounge-around-doing-nothing type, I have no idea.”

  Holden was about to shoot back an inappropriate comment about what he liked to do in his spare time when a flash of light to the far right caught his attention. The beam cut through the black distance and moved closer. Scanning the wide arc in front of him, he saw two more. Three people closing in fast.

  He grabbed her arm and stopped her from taking another step. “Wait.”

  A twig snapped under her shoe. “What?”

  “Quiet.” When she started to protest, he whispered the necessary information in a rush. “We have company.”

  She bent her knees and hunkered down as if trying to hide from anyone who could be watching. “Walters?”

  “I don’t think so. No.”

  Not police either. Holden didn’t see any of the telltale signs. No sirens. No flashing lights from a cop car. Not even any noise.

  This wasn’t an emergency crew checking out a call about a crash. These were the small, green, focused lights of a search party. A deadly quiet group looking for something. Holden guessed the “something” was Mia.

  She shook her head. “I don’t see—”

  “We’re going back to the house.”

  “It’s not exactly a great hideout.”

  “Yeah, it is.” It was the perfect place. He’d built it that way. Every member of the Recovery Project had an escape plan. He never thought he’d need one, not way out here, but it paid to be prepared. “Come on.”

  He took her hand. The last thing he needed was to lose her in the trees. The growth was too thick and the night too dark to take the risk.

  Having one arm under his control also meant it would be harder for her to come at him if it turned out she wasn’t the innocent victim she claimed to be. He hadn’t performed a true search of her body for weapons, but from his visual tour he didn’t see any bumps in her clothing or pockets of concern. But now that they had company, he planned on being a bit more careful.

  Crouched down and kicking at a near run, they headed back to the house. As they rounded the back of the battered car, he looked over his shoulder. Mia’s cheeks puffed in and out and her focus stayed on the ground. He guessed she was trying not to fall. Not a bad plan, in his view. It was the scene behind her that had him twitching.

  Those lights kept moving, steady and calm, forming a perimeter and pushing in. They, whoever “they” were, descended on the house like pros. The military precision had him thinking Special Forces, but the “why” still eluded him.

  Holden knew this might be about him and not Mia. He’d been digging around in private places and that sort of thing tended to make powerful people angry.

  They passed through the ripped drywall, stepping over the debris with as little crunch as possible. Without the ability to bar the door, he had limited time to get everything in order. Before she could check behind them, he guided her through the family room and down the short hall.

  On the way, he grabbed his satellite phone and telescopic sight and ignored everything else. “This way.”

  “We can call the police,” she said in a breathless hush as he hustled her into his stark bedroom.

  “No time.” He pressed his back against the wall and peeked out the window. The magnification provided by the goggles let him see the advance of the unwanted visitors.

  “Of course there’s—” She stared at him. “Binoculars?”

  “An updated version, yes.”

  “Are the people close?”

  Holden thought about lying to her. If she started crying or went into shaky shut-down mode, he might have to knock her out to rescue her. He didn’t look forward to that possibility at all.

  “Stand against the wall and no noise.”

  She obeyed. Waited all of three seconds before talking again. “Do you have another gun?”

  “Depends. Can you shoot?”

  “How hard can it be?”

  “So, that’s a no.”

  He got a good look at the attackers now. And that’s what they were. Dressed in black and loaded down with ammunition, they moved in unison through a mix of hand signals and nods. Mercenaries. No question these guys were guns for hire.

  “We have to get out of here,” he said.

  “You have a plan?”

  He nodded at the wall. “We’re going through there.”

  She followed his gaze and frowned. “It’s solid wood.”

  “Looks that way, doesn’t it?”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to sneak out the front? There’s no door, but at least there’s a hole and an obvious exit.”

  “The guys we’re trying to avoid are at the front.” He ducked down and crossed under the window. No need to give the attackers a clear target.

  “What are—”

  From the edge of the bed, he motioned to her. “Get on the ground and come toward me.”

  She didn’t question this time and he was grateful.

  With his blood pounding through his veins and her breathing echoing in his ear, he dropped to his knees and headed for the far wall. After crawling the short distance, he hit the floor a second before she did and collapsed with his back against the wood.

  Panting now, her green eyes filled with fear, she looked over at him. “I don’t understand why all this is happening.”

  To calm her, he brushed her wild hair back off her shoulder. “We’ll get to that later.”

  “Are we going to have a later?”

  “Count on it.” He punched a series of numbers into the square black watch on his wrist until he heard a click and the wall behind them shifted. “Lean forward.”

  The partition lifted from the floor. He waited until it drew up about four feet and then rolled into the small room on the other side.

  Her jaw dropped. “What are you doing?”

  Before she even finished the sentence, he pulled her through the opening and slammed the wall shut behind them. He was on his feet and grabbing for his computer hard drive in the next breath.

  Hands moving and mind shifting into gear, he inventoried the L-shaped desk and four shelves and grabbed a small backpack. He couldn’t carry much but some items should come along if possible.

  She brushed her fingers across the paneled wall. “What is this place?”

  “It’s called a SCIF.”

  Her hand dropped to her side but the confusion didn’t clear from her face. “Come again?”

  “The technical term is Sensitive Compartmented Information Facility,” he said as he rifled through the desk drawer for a set of keys.

  The area was an enclosed, windowless space in his house. In here he could review classified information. It functioned as a secure office within his sanctuary. The bedroom, closet and bathroom surrounded it. No one would check for it unless they knew it was there and started measuring square footage and found some missing.

  “If you didn’t look so serious I would think you were kidding,” she said.

  “’Fraid not.” He pressed a remote and the monitor on the wall across from the hidden door switched from a blank screen to a shot of the area outside the house. Only one attacker was visible. That meant the other two were circling or already inside.

  She watched him unzip an internal pocket of his backpack. “You’re not police.”

  “I already said no to that.”

  “You’re a spy.”

  “Not that either.” He slipped his hard drive inside the space. It was the size of a paperback book but far more important. It held all of the information he’d been gathering on his secret side project, on the congressman Mia insisted she killed.

  “Now what?”

  “Time to go.”

  “Where?” She looked around the six-foot space. Then her eyes locked on the figur
e on the screen. “He’s not police either.”

  “No.” Holden spared the attacker a glance before punching in the password on his watch.

  “What are you doing now?”

  “Setting the timer to blow the place up and sending a signal for help to a friend.”

  “Right.” She shot him a nervous smile but it faded a second later. “Wait, you’re still serious?”

  “Yeah.”

  Up until that point she’d held it together. She had paced a bit and rubbed her hands together a lot, but otherwise no craziness. With his admission about the planned explosion, her movements became frantic. Her hands flew around in the air and her voice squeaked.

  “Holden, this is ridiculous. You know that, right? Please tell me you’re not some lunatic serial-bomber type.”

  “Okay.” He held both of her upper arms with a touch he hoped wouldn’t terrorize her further.

  “That is not a convincing response.”

  “I need you to stay calm.”

  “Then get us out of here.”

  “We’ll have less than ten minutes.”

  Her green eyes turned glassy with fear. “Ten?”

  “That means you do everything I say, when I say.” He waited until she nodded. “Good.”

  He took her hands and pulled her tight against his body. He figured it was a testament to her fear that she didn’t struggle or slap him. When he reached behind him and hit the small lever under his desk, the floor next to her feet rolled back to reveal a steel-reinforced opening and crudely constructed steps made of dirt wound down into the earth.

  Good thing he believed in planning ahead for catastrophe.

  “You are just full of surprises,” she muttered as she stared into the hole that was just big enough to fit Holden.

  “Here’s another one.” He handed her the light stick. “You’re going first.”

  Chapter Five

  By the third tread of the twenty-step decline, Mia regretted wearing heels of any type. The narrow passage barely fit a foot and the only railing was the dirt wall next to her shoulder. She had a death grip on that.

  Mud caked under her nails and her shoulders ached from holding them stiff. The banging in her head hit orchestra levels.

  But she didn’t care. No way was she going to die on an underground staircase.

  When she got halfway down, she glanced back up. Holden’s light stick cast a warm glow at the top area, but she didn’t see him.

  “Holden?” If there was such a thing as a frantic whisper, she’d just mastered it.

  The resulting silence sent the blood churning in her veins. There was no way she could do this alone. Heck, she didn’t even know where she was or where this tunnel led. Those men outside with the big guns sure weren’t going to help her.

  With tiny shuffling steps, she turned around, ignoring the way her brain rattled and shifted. Careful not to topple backward, she grabbed on to the step above her and looked up. In the dim light she could see the tips of Holden’s sneakers.

  “What are you doing up there?”

  “I’m coming.” His voice sounded weak and a little breathy.

  She didn’t know how, but between climbing down and closing the door above him, he must have been injured. There was no other explanation and she had no choice but to ease her way back up the steps. “I’ll be right up.”

  “No. Stay there.”

  She was pretty much done with the whole obeying thing. She’d let him know that if she didn’t slip to her death.

  Balancing her hands against the damp walls, she lifted one foot then the other, balancing her shoes sideways on each step, and made her way back up to him. She met him on the third one from the top. “What are you doing?”

  His arms were outstretched with his fingers clamping onto the wall on either side of his body. His broad shoulders spanned the sides of the tunnel. One wrong twist and he could wedge his upper half against the dirt walls. If that happened, she’d have to dig him out with her bare hands.

  “Keep going down.” His husky tone vibrated.

  “What is wrong with your voice?” She lifted her light and shined it on his face.

  Sweat gathered on his forehead and his cheeks had bleached snow-white. “Nothing.”

  “What is it?” She recognized the look. She had enough training to diagnose trauma when it walked right in front of her.

  “I’m okay.”

  “You’re not.”

  “We don’t have time to argue.” He hesitated between each word.

  “Are you claustrophobic?” She asked the question even though she knew the answer.

  “Of course not.”

  Typical male. “Right. So, why is your escape route a tiny tube of mud if you can’t stand enclosed spaces?”

  “I’ve been working on it.”

  Now that she was paying attention, she saw the signs. The deep breaths and frenzied mumbling disguised as calm. This was something more than claustrophobia. Something worse.

  She’d figure that out later. Right now she needed to get them down. “We’ll have to practice coping techniques another time. Because we have about two minutes before your house explodes, we need to fast-forward your progress.”

  He blinked a few times. “How?”

  “Let’s go.” She held out her hand.

  He glared at her fingers.

  “One step. Take a deep breath while you do it.” She inhaled as an example. “Focus on a different place in your mind. A place that gives you pleasure.”

  He shook his head. “You need to turn around and go down.”

  “We need to move. Both of us.” She wiggled her fingers at him. “Visualize that image.”

  After two failed tries, he pulled one hand away from the wall. Shaky and slow, he reached out to her. His palm was ice-cold.

  “There you go.” She wanted to give him a few minutes to get comfortable, but they didn’t have time. With a gentle tug, she eased him down one step. As she walked sideways with one hand planted against the wall and the light stick between her teeth, she brought him with her.

  She battled gravity and panic and the pull of his weight against her body each time she tried to lower him a step. In her head she counted down the seconds to the fireball.

  “Keep breathing,” she said over a mouthful of plastic.

  “I am.” Still unsteady but gaining speed, he moved down.

  She switched the light to the hand against the mud, trapping it against the wall each time she pressed for balance. “Are you thinking about that image?”

  “Yes.”

  “What is it?”

  He was almost at the normal speed of an eighty-year-old with a walker now. “You don’t want to know.”

  “Sure I do.” Anything to keep him talking and not thinking about the walls closing in.

  “Sure?”

  She checked their path. Two steps from the bottom. They were almost clear. “Yep.”

  “You…”

  “That’s nice.”

  “Naked.”

  Her foot slipped but his vise grip and a hasty grab for the wall saved her from sliding down the rest of the way on her face. Pebbles tumbled and her light stick went flying. She landed in a sprawl with one hand stretched out in front of her, holding his.

  Sitting on a stair with her pride squashed under her, she glanced up at him. “Was that necessary?”

  Through the sweating and the slight tremble of his arm, he smiled. “You asked.”

  “Yeah, well. I’m sorry I did.” She kicked out her legs and hit the bottom. Being less than gentle, she tugged him down after. “Keep your mind on the rescue.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She dropped his hand and wiped her palms against her pants. Locating the light stick took longer. It had rolled under a rock crevice. Despite pulling on it, the thing wouldn’t budge.

  She gave up and stood. “Now what?”

  The words barely escaped her mouth when the ground shook. One minute she stared into th
e bleak darkness of the tunnel ahead and the next her feet left the floor.

  Strong arms wrapped around her waist. Holden’s shout vibrated in her head as he dragged her to the ground. She saw the mud coming up to greet her and couldn’t put out her hands to break the fall. He had trapped them at her sides.

  At the last second, he shifted his weight and took the brunt of their combined weight on his shoulder. A rough breath blew against her cheek right before he pressed his hand to the back of her neck and tucked her head under his chin as he rolled on top of her.

  Beneath her, the ground shifted from side to side. Above her, a mix of shattering booms and Holden’s harsh breathing filled her ears. She waited for the ceiling to cave in as mud and chunks of rock fell all around them. None of it touched her, but she could feel Holden take the impact and groan each time he got hit.

  An odd roar rumbled through the tunnel. “What is that?”

  “The fire.” He finally looked at her. “You okay?”

  “No, but I can move.”

  “Good.” He eased off of her. “We’re going to run.”

  “Are you worried about a cave-in?

  “I’m worried I won’t be able to get out of here otherwise. It’s getting tighter every second.” He leaped to his feet.

  She saw a rip in his backpack and blood running down his arm. But it was the frantic look in his blue eyes that told her what she needed to know. Being inside this mud tube was killing him.

  “Let’s go,” she agreed.

  With her hand in his and only his light as a guide, they raced down the long hall. Something scurried ahead of them but she ignored it. Every creature for itself.

  Twenty feet after a sharp turn, they hit a wall. “Holden!”

  “We’re fine.” Another touch of his watch and the dirt wall slid open. “The other side is steel.”

  “You’ll have to tell me why an unemployed non-spy has this setup.”

  “Once we’re safe.” He dug his fingers into the small opening and pushed a door no one but him could see a second ago.

  A sudden rush of cold air smacked her in the face, sending a shiver spinning through her. Walking from one dank, dark place into the black openness of the woods didn’t do anything for her vision. She couldn’t see anything except the towering trees surrounding them on three sides and the orange flame licking into the sky behind them.