So why did she think she was setting a bad precedent here, letting down her gender? If this pregnancy caused issues, all of womankind could be consigned to being chattel, breeding stock for a nearly extinct race.
She had to set the example there too.
Pausing the crime scene video, David stared at her over his laptop. “Are you going to be this grumpy for the next eight months?”
“I’m not grumpy.” She crossed her arms and hunched down. “I’m worried. If I were Dirk, I’d spin this in my favor. One leader dead, the other laid low on female complaints. Vote for the man with a penis.”
“Dirk isn’t that smart and I don’t know of many men who don’t have a penis.”
So not the point. “Since I can’t leave the bed, will you go to my office and pick-up my laptop?”
Then she could get some work done. Real work. She’d prove to them, she could still do her job.
“No.”
No? That wasn’t the right answer. He was supposed to be her mate and support her. “Why not?”
“You weren’t here when I came back from breakfast. Nearly gave me a heart attack. How do I know you won’t skip out again?”
“I went to the bathroom, not skipped bail.” And everything had been perfectly normal no spotting blood, no cramping. The little parasite had dug in and wasn’t letting go. She’d need every bit of that tenacity when she finally popped out. “And I took Shep.”
On the other side of the bathroom curtain, the dog thumped his tail on Sunnie’s bed. Despite his lack of opposable thumbs, the German shepherd was quite intimidating. Not that Mavis was opposed to a human guard. After last night, she’d be stupid not to have one. And she was far from stupid. Most days.
David returned to scanning the video of the explosion in electrolysis machine room three. “You didn’t eat much breakfast, do you want some crackers?”
“Sure.” Eating had to be better than watching rust form on the wire mesh above her head. Why hadn’t she brought her laptop back to the room?
He snapped his fingers. “Shep.”
Metal rattled then nails tapped rock. The German shepherd nosed around the shower curtain separating Sunnie’s bed from theirs. He yawned and shook his head, ears slapping his jowls.
“Fetch. Bag.” David pointed to Mavis’s desk.
The dog trotted over, rose on his hind legs and pulled the satchel off. With the bag locked in his jaws, Shep loped over to David.
“Good boy.” He flipped open the flap and tugged out two packets of crackers. “Enjoy.”
The packet slid against her fingers. “I wonder if dog spittle is good for the baby.”
Shep hung his head and tucked his tail between his legs. Mavis patted him on the head but set the crackers aside.
“He doesn’t like it when Mommy is grumpy.” David tossed him the fuzzy sausage link on the bottom of his bag.
“I’m bored, not grumpy.” Sheesh. He was working in bed? Why couldn’t she do the same? Then again, they were both in bed and she felt fine. Maybe she should take advantage of the situation. Facing him, she set her hand on his chest. Her thumb worked his nipple until it stood at attention.
“You’ve been in bed for ten hours and five minutes. Nine of which you’ve been unconscious. How could you be bored?”
“Easy, I’m used to being busy.” Her fingers wandered lower teased the hem of his shirt.
His stomach muscles tightened.
“It’s not so much the moving around, it’s the lack of problems to solve.” She skimmed them before finding his happy trail and circling his belly button.
He sucked in his breath. “What are you doing?”
“You know what I’m after.” She dipped below his waistband.
He caught her wrist. “That has to wait for six and a half more days.”
“Intercourse has to wait.” She nipped his ear and threw her leg over his groin. At least his body was cooperating. “But we can do other things. Naughty things.”
Sweat beaded on his forehead and he swallowed hard. “Care to elaborate?”
“Well—”
Shep jumped to his feet. Staring at the curtain separating their room, he hunkered down and growled.
Rolling her off him, David grabbed the gun from under their pillow. “Damn.”
Mavis slid off the bed, reached under the mattress and popped the lid off her strong box. Cold metal pressed against her palm. Crouching, she aimed at the entrance.
Placing himself between her and the door, David spared her a glance. His lips quirked. “Do I even want to know where you got that?”
She shrugged. “When you went undercover, I stashed a few necessities around the room. There’s guns under our bed, Sunnie’s, and taped to the underside of my desk. For kicks, I placed a throwing star between the phone and the wall.”
“I love it when you talk deadly.”
She grinned. This was better. This was the relationship they had before her pregnancy came between them. “I just love you.”
Shep sat down and wagged his tail.
“It’s friendly.” David set his hand on Mavis’s gun and pointed it to the floor.
“Hello the room!” Robertson batted aside the curtain and pushed inside. “Oh, look. Big D and Little M have matching weapons. Now what am I going to get you for the big day?”
“You told him.” Mavis set the safety and crawled back on her air prison. Company wasn’t better than sex, but at least she wouldn’t be bored.
“Everyone knows.” Robertson leaned back into the hall, reached out and pulled Sunnie into the bedroom. “I cannot tell a lie. She blabbed.”
“Some guard you are.” She stomped into the room, pulling packets of crackers from her pocket. “I thought you’re supposed to protect me.”
“If it’s flying bullets, fire-breathing dragons, and pink unicorns, I’m your man, but if it’s your aunt… No one is that brave.”
“David is.” Mavis ripped open a cracker packet and spit the plastic into her hand.
He tucked his gun into his waistband. “What was the result of the GSR?”
“Negative, just as we knew it would be.” Robertson crossed to the desk and leaned against it. “Did you get the files I sent?”
“Sunnie did a nice job on the video.” David brought it up on his computer and paused on the image of a gun. “This might be a break, or a dead end.”
“I hope it’s the former. Justin can live out the rest of his life in the greenhouse.” Poor kid. He was just trying to help her. Mavis held the cracker on her tongue until she tasted the sweetness of the carbs.
Sunnie dumped the crackers on the bed near Mavis. “I don’t want to film crime scenes again. Ever. I want to create art, not document murder scenes.”
Mavis folded the pillow behind her back and sat higher in the bed. “Where was the weapon?”
Robertson shrugged, leaned forward and snapped, “Under the serving counter.” Shep walked over and ducked his head under the waiting hand. His eyes closed when Robertson rubbed his ears. “But it’s useless, the fingerprints are smeared.”
David turned the screen around. “The serial number is filed off. But we might be able to retrieve it and follow it to the killer.”
Robertson smiled. “Yes indeed. I’ll get on it right after work. Sunnie will help.”
She rolled her eyes. “Thanks so much for volunteering me.”
“You’ve done a great job.” Mavis took her niece’s hand in hers. “I’m proud of you.”
Sunnie blushed. “Thanks, Aunt Mavis.”
Shep ran to the curtain and crouched. He bared his teeth but didn’t growl.
Ray opened the curtain with one hand; the other rested near the trigger of his M-4. “Visitors, Sergeant-Major.”
Johnson and Mrs. Bancroft walked inside. Johnson pushed a wheelchair.
“That better not be for me.” Mavis glared at it. Nothing like a visual aid to reinforce the idea that she was helpless, unfit to lead this new society.
“It’s for me.�
�� Mrs. Bancroft tucked her black hair behind her ears. “Mildred Dobbins loaned it to me. She said people were always underestimating her husband because he was paralyzed from the waist down, but he usually managed to turn his handicap into an asset.”
Cunning and clever. Mavis smiled. “I like that logic. I might even be able to use it to my advantage.”
“Since you’re a captive audience, I want to discuss some plans for expanding into the unused mill up the road.” Mrs. Bancroft wheeled the chair next to Mavis before pulling out a laptop from the pouch behind the seat back. “Breeding the poultry, I think. We could use the eggs and have plenty of chickens in five months.”
“That’s our cue to exit stage right.” David nodded toward the curtain.
Robertson and Sunnie hustled outside.
Mavis looked up from the computer. “David.”
He paused and cocked an eyebrow.
“Thank you. I knew you’d devise the perfect solution.”
He was almost to the exit when the phone rang. Crossing the room, he picked it up. “Dawson.” A muscle flexed in his jaw. He carefully returned the phone to the cradle. “Operation Gold Dust is a go.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
David shoved aside the tarp. The coated material crackled as he squeezed inside the cubby. A beach umbrella in red, yellow and blue, sticking out of a green milk crate, glowed by the light of the computer. “Status.”
Ray sidled over, rubbed shoulders with Folgers before handing David his helmet. Vegas and Michaelson double-checked their M-4s.
“Still only six men.” Sunnie sat on the only folding chair. The umbrella protected the computer and her front from the constant drip, but her back was damp and growing damper.
Probably not a good thing considering her lungs hadn’t completely healed. If she relapsed, Mavis would kill him.
Robertson cleared his throat. “Sunnie’s agreed to watch the monitor while we take care of the trash. Wouldn’t want any bad guys sneaking up on us.”
Ah, the private couldn’t let her out of his sight. Given that she’d been attacked the last time, that wasn’t such a bad idea. Of course, when they’d leave, she’d be unprotected. Not that many people came down these passageways.
Robertson tugged a pistol from his waistband and set it on the keyboard. “Thirteen rounds.”
Sunnie stared at it for a moment before picking it up with two fingers.
God. This could go south fast. “Sunnie, do you know how to use the weapon?”
Smiling, she palmed the handle and checked the chamber with smooth motions. “I can take out a pile of horse dung at fifty feet.”
Someone had been training her. Of course, shooting a person was different than a pile of shit, but the bad guys would be a helluva lot closer than fifty feet. “All right then. Any indication of weapons?”
Folgers shuffled around Ray. His oversized Adam’s apple bobbed in his neck. “None, Sergeant-Major. But they have some of our C-4.”
He pointed to the screen.
Two men in Marine-issued jackets stuck whole bricks of explosives to the crystal vein shining in the dim passage.
“Holy shit! Ten bricks and counting.” David’s heart stalled before slamming against his ribs. “They’re gonna bring the whole mountain down on our heads.”
They needed to move ten minutes ago.
“That’s if they know how to detonate it.” Ray crouched near his bag and pulled out his machete.
“We can’t take the chance.” David peeled back the curtain. Sticking his head through the opening, he looked left then right. Empty. “Sunnie, give me a count when we reach camera three.”
She ran her finger down the pad and tapped on one of the bottom bars. Another camera view popped up. This one glowed green thanks to the night vision camera. She arranged the images until one sat on top of the other. “You got it.”
David turned on his earpiece and adjusted the microphone in front of his mouth. “Move out, ladies. It’s show time.”
He eased into the hall and jogged toward the target. Two single bulbs illuminated the side tunnel. Water plopped on his helmet. The breathing of his men swirled inside his skull.
“Sergeant-Major,” Robertson whispered. “Given that you’re head of security, perhaps one of us should take point.”
“Who said I’m head of security?” David leapt over the puddle and paused near the slit of an entrance to the caverns. Boards with nails and a ‘keep out’ sign lay at his feet. Ray and Folgers fell in behind him. Vegas and Michaelson quickly joined them. Robertson arrived last, walking backward, his weapon at the ready.
“With Lister’s death, you’re next in line.” Ray shrugged his massive shoulders. “Plus unless you count Miss Annie and her armchair detective skills, you have the most experience investigating crimes.”
Damn. David eyed the entrance. He expected this to be a simple grab and bag, but FUBAR happened.
Robertson grinned at them over his shoulder. “I’d recommend Ray; we can all hide behind him.”
“Fuck you.” Ray unsheathed his machete and stepped toward his comrade.
Robertson thumped his chest with his fist before flashing a peace sign. “Nothing but love for you, big guy. Nothing but love.”
Christ. It was like babysitting two-year-olds. “Enough. Sunnie, update.”
“I count seventeen black bars.” Her voice streamed through his earpiece. “Nope, they’re placing number eighteen.”
“Copy that. Vegas.” David snapped his fingers. “Take point. Remember, we want them alive if possible.”
“Yes, Sergeant-Major.” Vegas stuck his tongue out at Robertson before slipping into the jagged opening. “Who’s the favorite now?” The darkness swallowed him.
Folgers ducked but didn’t have to turn his shoulders to fit.
Ray held his breath and sucked in his gut. The munitions bag stuck to his leg as he sidled through.
David stepped into Vegas’s place in line and squeezed into the opening. Rock scraped his helmet. His breath rushed back to him with every exhale. He blinked, trying to see anything. But the inky blackness spread across his eyes and blinded him. God, it must be like being buried alive. Not that he wanted to know for certain. The wall scraped his knuckle, tugged at the strap on his shoulder.
“Stop holding my hand, Folgers,” Ray growled.
“Don’t flatter yourself.” The young private grunted.
A few rocks clattered to the ground. One knocked David’s helmet, echoed in his skull. Christ. How unstable was this place?
Light pierced the gloom.
The passage widened. David filled his lungs. Damn, it had been nearly impossible to breathe. He stumbled into a kidney-shaped cavern. Stalagmites and stalactites met in pencil thin columns of rock around them. Blue-green water pooled at their feet then dropped off. The pond rippled as each man stepped in.
Robertson shook his bloody hand and mouthed ‘fuck’ six times before sucking on his scraped knuckles.
One more small pretzel-like passage and they’d be at the vein.
David checked his weapon, dried it then slipped off the safety. He looked each of his men in the eye and waited for them to nod.
In the silence, voices floated toward them. The words were indecipherable as if the speakers were underwater.
“David.” Sunnie’s words were a cannon shot on a still night.
God damn it. He cranked down the volume, watched his men parrot his movements. “Here.”
“They’re ducking and—”
A boom ripped through the passage. The ground shook under David’s feet. He went down on one knee. Frigid water saturated his pant leg. A ball of fire roared out of the connecting tunnel. The scent of charred flesh and cries mixed with the flames.
“Get down!” he yelled, before throwing himself into the pond. Heat seared his skin before he submerged his body. Water clouded around him. Then something heavy hit near his arm. He reached for the object. Rock cut his fingers. Fuck!
He g
lanced up in time to see torso-sized boulders blocking their exit route. More rock missiles splashed down around him.
The mountain was collapsing.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” Tina checked her oxygen gauge and tapped her gloved finger against the clear, plastic face. “Aren’t you the one who’s claustrophobic?”
Ten feet away from the entrance to their underground home, Audra opened her arms before turning her face to the sky. Weak sunlight filtered through the haze. Her radiation suit crinkled around her. But the clear faceplate of her hood didn’t obscure much of her peripheral vision. “We’re outside. How can you be claustrophobic outside?”
Tina clawed at the material covering her throat. Her panting came through Audra’s headset. “I think my gauge is broken. I can’t breathe.”
Setting her shrink-wrapped camera on the ground, Audra clasped her friend on the shoulders. The stiff straps holding the air tanks to her back barely registered through Audra’s gloves. “Look at me, Tina.” Audra tapped on her friend’s faceplate. “You can breathe just fine. We’re just fine.”
Tina’s brown eyes locked with hers.
“That’s good. We’re fine. Now inhale slowly.” The noise of her conscious breathing blended with Tina’s. “That’s good. Very good. Doctor Spanner said we might experience this. Okay. Just breathe. Exhale. Slowly.”
Tina pursed her lips and her faceplate fogged.
“You’re doing great.” The ground shifted under Audra’s feet. Whoa! She looked down. Had the snow just shifted?
“I’m okay.” Tina whispered. “Just freaked out a bit, but I’m okay now.”
Audra nodded. Maybe, she’d imagined the whole thing. Didn’t she read somewhere that panic was contagious? She bent over and picked up her camera. Pain shot down her back when she straightened. Yeah, carrying a forty pound oxygen tank was a piece of cake. “I think we should film the sky then work our way down the tree line to the ground.”
Tina fumbled with her pink camera. “Do you want us to film the same thing?”
“Yeah.” Audra eyed the screen when it blinked to life. Brown flakes wafted out of the gray sky. She held out her hand to catch it. The flake didn’t melt.
Redaction: Dark Hope Part III Page 23
