Under Fire: (A Dan Taylor thriller)

by Amphlett, Rachel

  Dan began to toss the bricks behind them as they worked.

  ‘Where do you think this comes out?’ asked Antonia.

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t know – a cellar perhaps. We’ve travelled a few miles I think, but the air is cooler here, so we must be fairly close to the surface.’

  They soon had the first bricks out of the way. Dan crouched down and shone the torch into the hole they’d created in the wall. A silt-like dirt blocked their way. Reaching forward, he touched the surface, which felt soft and worn down by the years.

  ‘Wherever we are, it’s very old,’ he said. He straightened up and shone the torch around them. ‘This wall’s been here for a few hundred years.’

  He bent down and used his fingers to scratch away the soil. Soon he was able to grab fistfuls of the dirt. Antonia stood up and began kicking the piles of soil out of their way.

  ‘Here, help me,’ said Dan. ‘There’s something solid here.’

  Antonia crouched back down and he handed the torch to her, before reaching into the recess with both hands. He pushed away more of the powdery soil and detritus until he could get a firm grasp on the object. He pulled and felt it give a little. He adjusted his grip and pulled again.

  With a surprised grunt, he fell backwards, the object in his hands.

  Antonia stifled a scream.

  In Dan’s hands was a decayed skull, its eye sockets full of soil, its teeth locked in a macabre grin. He dropped it on the floor and rubbed his hands down the front of his jeans, then glanced across at Antonia.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  She nodded. ‘Yes. It took me by surprise, that’s all. I suppose we should have expected something like that.’

  He nodded, stood, and peered through the hole. ‘Shine the torch closer.’

  Antonia bent down next to him. In the glow of the light, they could make out more bones lying in the dust. Scraps of clothing clung to decrepit joints. A smell of decay permeated the air, only slightly subdued by the intervening years.

  Dan looked down and pointed. ‘Look.’

  A scrap of blue cloth fluttered gently on a skull to the left of the recess.

  ‘There’s an opening through there!’ exclaimed Antonia.

  ‘And a way out,’ added Dan. ‘Keep digging through.’

  Within minutes, they’d wrenched out two more skeletons from the recess, piling the bones behind them on the dirt floor of the passageway.

  Suddenly, Dan stopped and held up his hand. ‘Shh, listen.’

  Antonia stopped and forced herself to breathe steadily, straining her ears. She glanced across at Dan. ‘Music?’

  Dan grinned. ‘Church music. We must be in the crypt.’

  They reached into the recess and continued to scoop out dust and bones. Soon, the gap widened enough for Antonia to crawl through on her hands and knees. Dan handed her the torch.

  ‘Don’t leave me here too long.’

  She nodded and began to crawl through the narrow space. She shuddered as she felt bones and cobwebs clinging to her hair as she progressed through the tunnel they’d carved out. She winced as she placed her hands among the dead piled up beneath her.

  Suddenly the ground fell away.

  With a muffled cry, she tumbled head first down a slope of skeletons piled on top of each other. The torch spun in the air above her before falling a few metres away from where she landed.

  She lay still, mentally checking her body for signs of injury.

  ‘Tell me you’re okay.’ Dan’s voice echoed from behind the stone wall.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she called. ‘Hang on.’

  She scrambled across the floor to where the torch lay flickering. She picked it up. The light faltered. ‘Hang in there,’ she murmured. She turned, swinging the beam up towards the hole in the crypt wall.

  ‘Can you see that?’ she called.

  The sounds of scrapes and muffled curses emitted from the recess.

  ‘Yes.’ Dan’s head poked out from the recess. He blinked in the light. ‘Next time, we make the hole bigger – and I go first,’ he said.

  Antonia grinned as he carefully made his way down the pile of skeletons. She hugged him as he reached the ground. ‘We made it!’

  Dan turned at a shout from behind the wall. ‘Give me the torch,’ he hissed, grabbing Antonia’s hand.

  He palmed his fingers across the beam of the torch, dulling it enough so he could still see to clamber back up to the gap in the crypt wall without giving their pursuers an excuse to catch them quicker.

  He held the torch in one hand, pulling himself up so he could peer back into the hole, and strained to hear the voices. His heart pounded in his ears, and he willed himself to breathe easily to relax his heart muscles.

  A sudden flash of light on the other side of the hole caught him by surprise and he looked away sharply.

  ‘They’re through here!’ came a voice, echoing hollowly off the innards of the crypt. ‘Quickly!

  ‘Shit!’ exclaimed Dan, letting go of his handhold and sliding back down towards Antonia. He grabbed her hand and pulled her through the crypt with him. ‘Hurry!’

  They stumbled over collapsed masonry and uneven cobblestones until they reached a narrow stone stairway leading upwards. Dan ducked under the low doorway leading out of the crypt and together, they raced up the staircase. As it curled around on itself, he looked up and saw they were entering the nave. Hushed voices whispered around him. As he searched for the source, he saw a small group of nuns busily scrubbing the flagstones of the church floor, the wet surface gleaming under lights suspended from the ceiling.

  The sound of Dan and Antonia’s footsteps reached them. Their conversations faded away as they each stopped working, their scrubbing brushes held up in mid-air as they looked up in shock at the two bedraggled figures standing in front of them.

  Antonia self-consciously ran her fingers through her hair, pulling cobwebs out of her curls. Dan brushed mortar dust from his shoulders and smiled sheepishly at the nuns.

  ‘Excuse us ladies – but which is the way out?’

  One of the younger novices giggled, but her laughter was soon stifled as a larger, elder nun appeared, rushing between two rows of pews towards them, her footsteps sounding across the flagstone floors. And she didn’t look happy.

  As she closed in on Dan and Antonia, she thrust a scarf at Antonia. ‘Cover yourself in the house of the Lord!’ she cried.

  Antonia looked down at her bare arms and shoulders, took the scarf and apologised profusely.

  The nun turned to Dan, glowering. ‘What is the meaning of this?’ she demanded.

  Dan put on his best charming smile. ‘I’m sorry sister, but we’re in a lot of trouble.’

  The nun automatically glanced at Antonia, and then slapped Dan hard across the face.

  ‘Ow!’ Astounded, it took a second for Dan to realise the misunderstanding. Glancing at Antonia, who blushed, he turned back to the nun. ‘No, not that sister!’ He rubbed his face and turned and looked over his shoulder. They had possibly twenty, maybe thirty seconds before their pursuers caught up with them.

  ‘Please, we’re being chased by some people that will probably harm us if they catch us,’ he quickly explained.

  The nun peered around Dan towards the direction of the crypt, then up at him.

  Dan looked over his shoulder at a sudden crashing sound from behind. He gently took the nun’s hand in his. ‘Please, which is the way out of here?’

  The nun stared up at him. Good grief, she thought. Those eyes. If I was twenty years younger! She shook her head to clear the image, made a mental note to carry out penance for her thoughts and pointed to their left. ‘The main entrance is through there,’ she said. ‘But,’ she added, grabbing Antonia’s arm as she started to move, ‘there’s a second entrance through the side over there,’ she pointed. ‘It leads into a busy street – you’ll be able to, perhaps, get lost?’

  Dan pulled the nun into a bear hug. ‘Thank you!’ he said, let her go a
nd grinned at her blushing face.

  A giggle from the novices brought her swiftly back into action and Dan could hear her berating them as he and Antonia ran towards the exit.

  Approaching the heavy wooden doors, he heard a shout from behind them. Glancing over his shoulder, he spotted Hassan’s men pushing past the nuns who had stood up and formed a temporary barrier between them and their pursuers. Dan turned and pushed the door open.

  Bright streetlights blinded them both for an instant and they shielded their eyes with their hands, before scurrying down the shallow steps which led from the church door to the footpath.

  Dan took in their surroundings. True to the nun’s word, the street was packed with buses, pedestrians and cars. The cacophony of noise assaulted his ear drums as he frantically searched for a taxi, or something he could use to aid their escape. He stepped back sharply as a moped cut along the footpath, seeking a shortcut through the traffic. A carnival atmosphere permeated the town, with people stringing up red lanterns and balloons and calling out to each other across the street.

  Dan pulled Antonia along, pushing against the tide of people. He looked over his shoulder, and saw a taxi turn into the street a few hundred metres away. He waved his hand in the air to get its attention, when another taxi cut in front of it and pulled to the kerb. Dan pushed Antonia towards it and opened the back door for her.

  ‘Get in, quickly!’ he said and jumped into the back seat next to her. ‘Drive!’ he called to the driver. ‘Just go!’

  He felt his head rock back as the taxi pulled away from the kerb, a bus driver sounding a horn as the taxi swerved into his lane, narrowly missing the larger vehicle’s fender.

  Dan leaned forward to speak to the driver. ‘Take us to the British embassy please.’ He rested his head on the back of the seat and closed his eyes.

  Antonia squeezed his hand. He opened his eyes and looked across at her.

  She smiled. ‘We’re safe.’

  Chapter 31

  Dan pulled Antonia to him and whispered in her ear.

  ‘Giggle as if I’ve said something funny then listen carefully,’ he murmured.

  Antonia raised her hand to her mouth and laughed, doing her best to look coy in the driver’s rear-view mirror.

  ‘Okay, good,’ whispered Dan, a smile plastered across his face. ‘In a minute, lean back over to your side of the car and put your hand onto the door lever. When we get to the next junction, wait for my signal – I’ll squeeze your knee – then open the door and jump out. Run round the back of the vehicle and follow me as fast as you can.’

  Antonia looked at him and frowned. She tilted her head to the side. Why?

  Dan pulled her closer. ‘The driver keeps checking his mirrors and his speed is erratic. I reckon we’re being followed and he’s making sure they don’t lose us.’

  Antonia glanced at him, nodded once then slid across the seat. She rested her elbow on the armrest of the car door and appeared to look nonchalantly out the window at the passing streets.

  Dan scanned the narrow roads and alleyways off the main street. The footpaths were crowded, late night shoppers, tourists and market traders vying for space in the narrow streets. He glanced up as he felt the vehicle slow. The car was approaching a junction, a ‘stop’ sign visible at the end of the street. He forced himself to breathe slowly, through his nostrils, desperately trying to keep calm. They had one chance.

  The vehicle edged slowly forward, two other vehicles in front of it.

  Now .

  Dan squeezed Antonia’s knee and pulled the lever on the car door towards him. The door flew open and he launched himself from his seat and out of the vehicle. He ran across the road, veered around a bus that braked suddenly in front of him, and leapt up the kerb onto the uneven footpath. He quickly looked to his left and right, saw an opening into an alleyway and bolted down it. He could hear Antonia’s footsteps behind him.

  ‘You okay?’ he yelled over his shoulder.

  ‘Yes!’

  Dan could sense the walls of the buildings closing in on him. Uneven paving stones jostled for space under his feet and he could feel the slight incline. Wrought-iron balconies overlooked the narrow cobbled alleyway, washing and potted plants decorating the cast ironwork.

  Studded wooden doors led through to the houses’ courtyards. As he ran past, Dan glanced through and noticed small gardens, fountains, chicken pens. He slid around a corner, knocking over an pot full of plants. Soil and terracotta shards scattered across the cobblestones in his wake.

  He reached a small crossroads and stopped to catch his breath. Antonia caught up with him and leaned against him, panting.

  ‘Which direction?’ she asked, looking over her shoulder. ‘They’ll be looking for us.’

  Dan glanced up at the moonlit sky, a narrow sliver of light showing between the roofs of the houses around them. He looked to the left and spotted another narrow street leading upwards and further away from the main road.

  ‘This way – let’s put some distance between us and try to gain some height to get our bearings,’ he said.

  He began to run, keeping to the sides of the narrow street and in the shadows of the streetlights hanging from the surrounding houses. Antonia followed closely at his heels. They ran carefully, trying to silence their footsteps on the cobbled street surface.

  Dan passed a door to another courtyard and stopped. Antonia fell against him, stopping suddenly.

  ‘What?’ she hissed.

  The door stood slightly open on its hinges. Dan took her hand. ‘Through here – come on.’

  He pushed open the door and pulled Antonia through after him. Once they were both safely in the courtyard, he turned and carefully pushed the door back into the frame. They stood, panting, trying to catch their breath.

  Suddenly Dan held up his hand and put a finger to his lips to silence Antonia. Footsteps.

  And they were coming closer.

  Dan pushed Antonia behind him and peered through the crack between the door and the frame. He could see the curve of the alleyway along which they had run, but his view was partly obscured by a large red and white flag hanging low from the balcony of a patriotic resident. He listened as the footsteps grew closer, and then spotted three men as they rounded the corner. He held his breath as they stopped and looked around them. There seemed to be a discussion about which way to go. The shorter of the three, a stocky dark-haired man with a scar over his nose and cheek, pointed up the alleyway and they began running in Dan’s direction.

  He slowly pulled away from his view of the alleyway and pulled Antonia into the shadows with him as the men’s footsteps grew closer. They had slowed their gait, looking for signs of their prey’s progress. Dan strained his ears as the men passed the courtyard. He could hear them further up the alleyway. Pulling Antonia close to him, he slowly moved back towards the wooden door and opened it slightly. He could hear voices to his right, the direction the three men had run. He waited for a few seconds then peered round the wooden frame. In the dusk, he could make out the figures of their pursuers.

  ‘Come on,’ he whispered, ‘quickly and quietly.’

  They edged through the narrow gap and turned left, running as hard as they could. As they turned the corner, Dan looked over his shoulder – and saw the taller of their pursuers looking straight at him. There was a moment’s hesitation, and then they were in pursuit.

  Dan pushed Antonia in front of him. ‘Go, go!’ he urged as a shout from the three men echoed off the walls of the closely-packed buildings around them.

  Dan overtook Antonia and grabbed her hand. ‘Keep up!’ he urged. ‘Here!’

  He slid round the next corner, ducked under a lantern hanging from the side of a house, and turned down another street. He didn’t dare look behind them. He could feel his lungs burning from the effort and adrenaline.

  Antonia suddenly gasped.

  Dan looked down at her, worried she might have twisted her ankle. Instead, she was pointing up at the streetlamps.


  ‘Look!’ she breathed.

  The lanterns were going out one by one up the alleyway, giving the narrow street the impression of a building corridor as the lights fluttered out in sequence.

  ‘What’s going on?’ said Dan, ‘is it a trap?’

  Antonia shook her head. ‘I don’t know.’ She continued to match Dan’s pace along the street. ‘Hang on,’ she said. ‘It must be a feast day for a saint or something!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘If it’s a feast day here, all the street lights are switched off for a few hours for a candlelit parade.’

  Dan turned a sharp right and slowed to a jog. The streets were now completely dark, lit only by a waning moon. He noticed the first of the candles in the windows of the houses they passed.

  ‘This could work,’ he said. ‘Let’s find that parade!’

  Chapter 32

  As Dan led Antonia down the gentle slope of the darkened street, they could hear the noise of the festival drawing closer. Music, cheering and whistles carried over the tightly packed buildings of the narrow streets.

  Dan pulled Antonia through a stone archway. It led to a sheer drop overlooking the wide main street below. Cautiously, he leaned out, grasping the stone wall for support. The head of the procession rounded the corner below.

  ‘Come on, hurry,’ he said.

  They glanced back out through the archway. They could hear their pursuers’ footsteps growing closer. They turned right, keeping close to the centre of the alleyway which, unlit by streetlamps and far from the shallow light emitted from window-framed candles, was now dark.

  They turned right again and reached the end of the narrow cobble-stoned streets. A high stone wall with a towering arch led through to the main street, onto which people poured from their houses to join the procession as it passed.

  Dan could see Antonia was exhausted.

  ‘Come on, a bit further and we’ll be able to walk for a little while,’ he urged. He pulled her through the archway. ‘Put on your best tourist smile.’