The Betrayed Series: Ultimate Omnibus Collection

by Carolyn McCray

  Again, the redhead wasn’t wrong, but Rebecca was trying to calm the guy down so she could reason with him and Bunny wasn’t helping.

  “Let us go, and we won’t turn you in.”

  “Speak for yourself,” the tour leader grumbled.

  And Brandt would probably hunt the guy down and let him know exactly how displeased he was with the man who had held a gun to his fiancée, but the guide didn’t need to know that.

  “Just put the gun down, Erik,” Rebecca urged. “We can talk this through.”

  “I can’t,” the guide insisted.

  “Erik,” the tour leader barked. “You have to.”

  “And what?” the guide asked. “Go back to minimum wage wrangling of snooty Europeans and pushy Americans? I need the money. I want the money.”

  The younger guide’s feet took on a stronger stance as he raised the gun higher, his decision made.

  “I can’t let you,” the tour leader said before he sprang forward and grabbed the guide.

  The gun went off in the struggle. The tour leader grabbed his belly as blood gushed between his fingers. Bunny used the moment to put an elbow to the guide’s nose, then snatch the gun away. Guess Brandt’s hand-to-hand training came in handy.

  Rebecca dropped to her knees beside the tour leader. “Why did you do that?”

  “Just trying to protect the women,” the man choked out then spit up blood. “Like your special forces buddies.”

  The only difference with that was that Brandt would have pulled it off. His act was definitely one that should not be tried at home.

  Erik dropped to his knees next to his boss. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean…”

  The bright red blood on the ice didn’t care what the guide meant to do or didn’t mean to do. Rebecca kept pressure on the belly wound the best she could.

  “I think I hear footsteps,” Bunny warned from the mouth of the chamber. A bullet whizzed past her head, digging deep into the ice behind her. “They are here.”

  “Erik, help me get him on his feet,” Rebecca said.

  “There’s a small tunnel in the back,” Bunny added, leaving the mouth and hurrying across the cave.

  The guide tried to help, but the tour leader shook his head. “I can’t.” Rebecca tried to argue, but the man gripped her arm. “You know that I can’t.”

  Rebecca had seen enough wounds to know when one was fatal. By the man’s ashen, gray features, he was not going to recover—and, in fact he would slow them down.

  “Give me the gun,” the tour leader said. “I will hold them off for as long as possible.”

  Rebecca would have liked to have argued, but she knew this was the only way. “Bunny.”

  The redhead handed over the gun. “We’ve got to hurry.”

  To Rebecca’s surprise, Erik didn’t get up to leave.

  “Bunny isn’t exaggerating,” Rebecca urged.

  “I’m staying here too,” Erik said. “I started this mess. Let me help fix it.”

  There was no fixing anything.

  “That is straight-up suicide,” Bunny added. “Once he starts shooting, the Disciples won’t stop.”

  “I know,” the guide said. “All’s we can do is buy you time.”

  Again, Rebecca would have loved to argue, but the only slight chance they had to escape was to haul ass now. “Thank you,” she said, squeezing the tour guide’s hand. “Thank you both.”

  “Rebecca,” Bunny urged from the back of the cave.

  As another bullet zinged into the cave, chipping the ice, Rebecca got up and did what she did best.

  Run.

  * * *

  Brandt squeezed his shoulders through the narrow opening as dirt, soot, and mud caked into his skin. The ventilation shaft had been crudely dug into the mountainside, and was not rappelling-friendly.

  Levont, who had come down before him, wiped off his sleeves. as well. The tunnel may have been a tight fit, however it did the trick. They were deep into the mine, behind the guards at the mouth.

  His feet landed on a large crate branded with a Nazi swastika. The uranium was underfoot, all packaged and ready to go to the highest bidder. Lopez waved his radation dosimeter over the crates and the needle moved into the mid-range.

  “We’re good for a while. Just don’t bathe in it,” the corporal joked.

  Then Levont pointed up as Vakasa shimmied down the rope. Her guardian followed close behind.

  “I told you to keep her up there,” Brandt reprimanded the woman. The last thing he needed was civilians mucking up a perfectly good military operation.

  “She wouldn’t stay behind,” the woman said. “And I won’t leave her.”

  While Brandt would have loved to carry the little girl right back up that rope, he simply did have the time. They needed to make the most of the commotion out front.

  “Levont, plant the C-4,” Brandt whispered harshly. He turned to Lopez. “As soon as he’s done, we are evacuating, and if you have to hog–tie the girl to get her topside, I’m okay with that.” –

  Brandt meant to give Vakasa a scathing glare, but with her bright smile, it was hard to be mad at her. Then the earth shook underfoot. The area had been seismically active for the past few weeks. Just another wrench thrown into the works on this mission.

  A shout went up from outside the cave. Guards were diving out of the way. Brandt didn’t need to know Swahili to know they were yelling “Incoming.” That high-pitched scream was pretty much universal.

  Brandt threw himself over Vakasa as the RPG flew overhead, flying down the mine shaft until it hit the back wall. His ears threatened to rupture as the explosion rocked the mountain. The ceiling overhead cracked and fell in huge chunks all around them.

  The guards rushed in to probably check if their uranium was still intact—which meant they were about to discover his team. Levont shot, taking down the first guard. Two others fell in quick succession as Lopez added his gun to the mix.

  Brandt shoved up, getting ready to fire, when Vakasa grabbed his gun, holding it down. The girl’s interference was getting a bit annoying. Jerking the weapon away, Brandt turned to find the guards retreating in confusion. They clearly hadn’t expected to find the enemy behind them.

  Then they came to their senses. Behind or in front, the enemy had to be eliminated. Bullets flew overhead. Brandt scrambled to pull Vakasa behind the large crate. The cover was solid—however, he wasn’t so sure it was so great to have uranium aerosolized.

  “Lopez?”

  “Not ideal, boss,” the corporal answered. “But a whole hell of a lot better than a second RPG in here. I don’t think the roof could take it.”

  Brandt looked at the huge pile of rubble littering the floor, then up to the ceiling, which seemed to be held together by two large arches. If those came down, the entire mountainside would come down with them.

  It was up to Davidson to make sure that a second RPG didn’t end their night rather abruptly.

  * * *

  Davidson scanned the forest for signs of the team that had let off the RPG. It appeared to have come in the direction of the British team. A glint of silver caught his attention. Honing in on the figures between the leaves, Davidson found the Brits loading another RPG.

  He took his shot carefully, knocking the grenade launcher from the man’s hands. All guns went up, scanning for him, assuming he must be one of the chieftain’s men.

  Well, Davidson seriously doubted if the chieftain’s men would do this.

  After a few more well-placed bullets, Davidson pulled up his rifle. He’d just shot the Morse code message for “Back off: into the tree next to the commanding officer. If the Brits didn’t get the message after that, he would have to take more aggressive action.

  Luckily, the Brits looked like they knew their Morse code pretty well, and they lowered the RPG launcher to the ground.

  Davidson swiveled and trained his scope on the mouth of the cave.

  It was unmitigated chaos down there as the women and child
ren ran from the site. The guards were too busy running from the bullets spitting from the cave to stop them. Further down the tunnel, it looked like there had been a partial cave-in.

  Once the men and civilians had gone down the shaft, Davidson had lost their heat signatures. Obviously, some of them had survived the attack. But who, and for how long, he didn’t know.

  Digging in deeper to his nest, Davidson did the only thing he could.

  Wait. With his finger on the trigger.

  * * *

  Rebecca slipped, again, and hit her head against the wall, which was cool to the touch, but not icy. Her hand ran along the smooth surface, realizing it was volcanic glass. They had left the glacier, and were now deep within the mountainside.

  “We’ve got to figure a way out,” Bunny said, as gunfire echoed down the tunnel from the cave. The Disciples sounded like they were in full-out assault mode. And the guides only had twenty bullets, max.

  There was no way they could go back though. The Disciples would have the cave entrance guarded, even if they could somehow get around the men in the cave.

  “We’ve got to just keep moving,” Rebecca said. Someone would miss them soon, and the Disciples weren’t going to hang around forever. They were more of a shock-and-awe kind of operation.

  Then the gunshots stopped. That was not good news.

  Hurrying down the black, slick tunnel, Rebecca’s hand slid over an opening.

  “Bunny, feel this,” Rebecca whispered.

  The redhead complied. “So?”

  “It’s a lava tube.”

  Rebecca imagined the glacier’s outer surface, pocked with holes. This was where the wind was coming in to create the moaning sound.

  “This is our way out,” Rebecca announced, feeling the perfectly round tunnel. Iceland was known for its lava tubes. It was home to some of the longest ones, stretching miles. They didn’t need this one to go that far. They just needed the tube to get them out of the cave system.

  Bunny squeezed her hand as she crawled over the smooth lip to the glassy interior of the tube. Bracing her feet to keep from slipping, Rebecca lay in the tube. She was going to have to let go soon, though. Footsteps sounded down the tunnel. The Disciples were coming.

  Releasing her feet, Rebecca started sliding, slowly at first, but then with more and more speed down the tube. The passage twisted and turned until she had no idea in which direction she was headed. Then further ahead, early morning sunlight shone in.

  They had made it!

  She tried to slow her descent—however, the black volcanic glass was especially slick. Heading full speed, Rebecca flew out the tube. The one thing she hadn’t accounted for was how high up the cliff the tube would let out. Sailing through the air, arms waving, Rebecca watched as the ground came up pretty fast. Luckily a figure stepped out from the cave just as Rebecca was about to splat on the ground.

  Instead, she slammed into the figure, startling the Disciple guard. He didn’t even have time to raise his weapon as they both landed hard on the ground. Bunny, apparently having figured out how to slow herself, landed lightly next to Rebecca and snatched the gun away from the unconscious guard.

  “Let’s get a pony and get out of here.”

  Limping behind Bunny, Rebecca hoped that Brandt was having a better day then she was.

  * * *

  Brandt turned to Lopez, “Figure it out.”

  The corporal nodded and took off. If anyone could find a way for them to get out of this mess, it was Lopez. Vakasa dropped Brandt’s hand and rushed over to the pile of rubble.

  What the hell was the girl doing now?

  But once a dark hand was revealed, Brandt figured it out. Levont kept watch over the guards as Brandt leaned his back to pulling rocks off of Vakasa’s guardian. The poor woman had been nearly crushed to death.

  When she tried to speak, Brandt tried to shush her. “Save your energy.”

  “For what? The undertaker?” She chuckled, then coughed up blood. “You must promise me you will take care of Vakasa. She is special.”

  “I will,” Brandt stated.

  “No, you must promise me,” the woman said as she clutched Brandt’s hand. “There is a shaman in the jungle. You must find him. He’ll know what to do.”

  “I will,” Brandt repeated.

  “Promise me,” the woman begged, as her hand went slack.

  “I promise,” Brandt said, not sure if the woman even heard it. The earth shook again, and he had to pull Vakasa back from the woman as rocks tumbled down, covering her guardian.

  He pulled the little girl to his side and gave her a squeeze. It was the best he could do before turning to Levont. “Situation update?”

  “We’re screwed?” The man said, then cleared his throat. “They’ve reorganized. I have no idea how we’re going to punch through that blockade without a division of Marines.”

  “Lopez will think of something,” Brandt said, looking behind them to where the corporal had disappeared.

  Then he heard a whooping. Not exactly professional, but ever-so-Lopez.

  The sound of wheels on a track filled the air. Rapidly approaching, Lopez was pumping up and down on an old handcar. He was pushing a large steel container.

  “Hop in!” Lopez yelled as he sped down the track.

  Brandt grabbed Vakasa around the waist and threw them both into the bin. Levont landed on top of them.

  “Hang on, we’re going to hit the end of the tracks!” Lopez yelled.

  “Blow it!” Brandt yelled to Levont. The point man hit the detonator and the explosives did their job, both in collapsing the mine, and in providing the outward force to shoot the bin out the entrance and over the guards.

  Lopez was thrown past the handcar and into the bin as they sailed over the shocked soldiers.

  The corporal scrambled up and started firing. “Reverse skeet shooting!”

  Brandt would let him have it.

  They landed, hard, in the center of the village. Brandt grabbed the little girl and hurled himself over the side, his gun at the ready. Although he didn’t need it, as the trees burst with gunfire. Not only were his men providing cover, but the rest of the allies were, as well.

  “Move out!” Brandt yelled, and Levont struck out for the jungle. They were just about to melt into the trees when Brandt was shot.

  Pain ripped through his shoulder. Despite his attempts to hold onto the girl, he dropped her as his arm went numb. The bullet rattled around his chest. Hitting the ground, Brandt tried to take in a breath, but it was like trying to suck molasses through a straw.

  Vakasa patted the wound, sending streaks of fire through his shoulder. The ground beneath him shook as the world went black.

  * * *

  Davidson slid down the slick tree’s trunk as the earthquake rumbled on. Brandt was down. How could Brandt be down? One of the enemy’s snipers must have snuck in a shot. And it had looked bad, the way the sergeant tipped over, hitting the ground face first.

  He had failed Brandt. How could he ever look Rebecca in the eye again? To lose her groom just days before the wedding?

  Slipping on the moist ground, Davidson caught himself, then sprinted to the rest of his men.

  Talli ran up, as well. “It wasn’t me.”

  How sad that a sniper had to announce that he was not the one who had shot his own commanding officer. But, with Talli, it probably was a good idea to let everyone know it wasn’t him.

  Davidson sank to his knees beside Brandt. While Levont and the allies provided cover, Lopez checked Brandt’s vitals, having to move the little girl out of the way to do it.

  “He’s alive, but unconscious.”

  Could he dare to hope that Brandt could survive?

  “Looks like his vest caught most of it,” Lopez said. “Then the bullet must have ricocheted, digging up into his shoulder.”

  “Brandt,” Davidson said, as the watch on his wrist vibrated. “It’s time to call home.”

  The sergeant roused himself, his
hand flying to his holster.

  “It’s okay,” Lopez said, patting the sergeant on his other shoulder. “We’ve got to get out of here, though.”

  “But I’m shot,” the sergeant said, sounding confused. “I’ve got a slug in me.”

  “No, your vest caught it,” Lopez assured him. “We’ve got to evac before the soldiers regroup.”

  Brandt shook off the cobwebs pretty quickly, rising with little help. “Then don’t let me slow us down.”

  The sergeant picked up the little girl as they headed off into the jungle.

  Next to Davidson, Talli shook his head. “What?” Davidson asked.

  “The guy is made of steel.”

  Yes, that Brandt was.

  * * *

  Rebecca stared at the sat phone. Brandt was supposed to check in an hour ago, but he hadn’t called yet.

  Not that she hadn’t been busy. Local authorities hadn’t found any sign of the Disciples except for the dead bodies of their guides. Since murder, let alone a double murder, was extremely rare in Iceland, Rebecca and Bunny had spoken to nearly every law enforcement agency on the island, including, strangely, the Coast Guard.

  Bunny walked over as the National Police Commission hopped into his Passat and drove off. Guess they had finally gotten ahold of the State Department, which must have demanded their immediate release. There were going to be lots more questions once they got home, Rebecca was certain.

  But the single largest question was, why wasn’t Brandt calling? It was one thing to miss a check-in or two. It happened. But this close to the wedding? He had promised to call when they were heading back to the States.

  As if her prayers were answered in real time, the phone in her hand rang. A blocked number.

  “Brandt?” Rebecca said, as she answered the phone.

  “Hey, babe.”

  “Are you okay?” Rebecca asked.

  “I’m great,” he said, with more enthusiasm. “But I’m not coming home just yet.”

  “What?” Rebecca demanded. Their wedding was in four days. “That’s cutting it awfully close, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but I have a promise to fulfill,” Brandt said, then hurried on. “But I’ll be there, don’t you worry.”

  And, strangely, Rebecca wasn’t. “So how was your day?”