“I want status reports from every team,” he said. “Have you checked every room in this house? I mean, closets, cupboards, toilet tanks, everything!”
“Yes, sir, Commander Tucker,” came another voice. She thought it was the voice of the first soldier. “We all spread out as soon as we got inside. Ardmore and I went down into the wine cellar.”
“Yeah, I see that,” the commander replied, “and you were fighting over those bottles when I walked in here. If I hear any more fighting about that wine, I’ll smash the bottles over your heads. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir,” said multiple voices.
“Did you find anything down there besides these bottles?” the commander asked. “Was the tunnel entrance down there?”
“No, sir, definitely not,” the first soldier replied, the one Selene thought of as Anvil Head. “We walked around the whole thing. Not much down there.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you looked real close,” the commander said, “especially after you found the wine.”
Even as the commander was speaking, Selene heard what sounded like the popping of corks, the ringing of glasses, suppressed laughter.
“Well, they’re drinking now,” she said. “I guess that’ll keep them busy for a little while.”
“Depends on how fast they can drain those bottles,” George replied. “I’d guess it won’t take long. We have to get out of here.”
“They said something about a tunnel,” Selene said. “Do you have any idea what they’re talking about.”
George was quiet for a second, then he grunted. “Actually, now that I think about it, there was some sort of tunnel system on the original property plans. I’m guessing something to do with the original Army base on the island. But I don’t remember it leading to the wine cellar. Seems like it was down the island by the old base.”
“There’s not a secret closet or anything down here?” Selene asked. “I hate to be out in the open like this. The next time, they might see us.”
George got quiet again. “There is this one place. It’s like stairs or something, but it doesn’t lead anywhere. Maybe it connected to the tunnel system at one time but got blocked off. I don’t know. Bear in mind, this cellar space was here before I built the guesthouse. It wasn’t a wine cellar then. I converted it. Anyway, there’s a weird little closet. I use it for storage space, but it doesn’t lead anywhere.”
“Does it have a door?” she asked.
“Even better,” he said. “It’s behind a wine rack. You can’t see the thing unless you know where to look. Come toward me. I’ll lead you there.”
She moved toward the sound of his voice in an awkward duck walk, her hands thrust out before her. He found her wrist again and guided her toward the back of the room. She’d gone maybe ten paces when he came to a stop. Then she heard him fumbling around in the dark. It sounded like his hands were sliding over wood.
“What is it, George?” she asked.
“Looking for the release lever,” he said. “It’s been a long time since I opened it. Like I said, it’s just a small storage space. We can hide in there, but not forever. We have to get out of here eventually.”
“They’ll move on eventually,” she said. “Until then, we hide.”
23
The Beretta M9 was a nice, sturdy handgun. Malin liked the feel of it in his hand, and he practiced drawing it from the holster a few times. Staff Sergeant Prig had given it to him for his rescue mission.
“We’ll keep an eye on you from the surveillance room,” Cat said. The Marine was leaning against the doorframe between the game room and the hallway, the waist of her sweatpants hanging down so that the bandage on her hip was visible. “Staff sergeant says it fine. Doc wants me in bed, but I’ll keep ignoring her.”
All of the other Marines were elsewhere in the bunker, but they’d provided some extra loaded magazines for the handguns. Malin picked one up and shoved it in his shirt pocket. Elna was tracing passageways on the map with her finger, apparently trying to approximate the rooms in the guesthouse in relation to the underground corridor.
Footsteps in the hallway drew Malin’s attention as people began slipping past Cat to enter the room. He saw Prig, Fish, and Dr. Ruzka. Prig approached the table.
“Okay, let’s coordinate,” he said. “The next hour or so is going to be chaos, so we need to make sure every person has a role and knows exactly what they’re supposed to be doing.”
“Malin and I are going through the corridor into the wine cellar,” Elna said. “I have no idea if George and Selene are in the guesthouse, no idea where they might be hiding, and no idea if we can get to them. The building might be swarming with mercs.”
“Don’t engage unless you absolutely have to,” Prig said. “You’re out of your league here. Got it?”
“I want to go,” Dr. Ruzka said suddenly, approaching the table. “Someone’s liable to get seriously injured, especially if there’s a gunfight. They’ll need immediate treatment. It’s the reason the military takes medics onto the battlefield.”
“Sorry, Doc,” Prig said. “That’s a risk none of us can afford. You’re looking after Ant.”
“Selene would want you to stay here and care for the injured,” Elna noted, sliding her Beretta M9 into its holster.
“But…just two people against a dozen mercenaries?” the doctor said.
“We’re not taking on the whole force,” Malin pointed out, practicing drawing the gun one last time. “We’re trying to slip in unnoticed, find our people, and get out of there. The fewer people, the better.” He nodded at Elna. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Okay.”
“Fish will accompany you down the corridor,” Prig said. He snapped his fingers, and Fish pushed into the room. He had a small pack slung over one shoulder. “He’s going to set the charges behind you. We can’t afford to let the mercs down here, so we’ll have to bring it all down immediately if there’s any chance they’re alerted to this entrance. Sorry, that’s just the way it is.”
“I get it,” Elna said. She started across the room. “Do what you have to do.”
Raymond was in the corner with Danny, Chloe, and Miriam. The boy was helping the little girl color a page in a coloring book as Sniffy curled up beside them. When Malin passed the group, Raymond tipped his head at him, which Malin returned.
Fish caught up to them just as they passed through the small door in the corridor. He clicked on a flashlight and passed it to Malin, who took it and aimed it toward the end of the passageway.
“Just remember, you guys have to hurry,” Fish said. As he spoke, he stopped, reached into his pack, and produced what Malin knew to be a small rectangular explosive pack, along with a roll of duct tape.
“Do you think there’s any chance those explosives will bring down parts of the island, like the vineyard or guesthouse?” Malin asked Elna, as they moved away from him.
“I’m trying not to think about it,” Elna replied, resting her hand on her pistol, “because there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”
“I’m not setting charges directly beneath any buildings,” Fish said. “They’ll be concentrated around the middle of the corridor. Just enough to bring the roof and walls down there and block the passage. Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”
He stopped suddenly and reached up, placing the rectangular charge high against the wall and taping it in place.
“How long do we have to get back here?” Malin asked.
“Well, it’ll take time to get the charges set up, linked, and prepped,” he said. “I can’t wait long, though, so hurry it up. Ten, fifteen minutes.” He waved them on.
Elna and Malin picked up their pace, jogging down the hall, dodging the empty crates and scattered debris along the way. Finally, they reached the door far at the end. Fish was so far away now they could barely see him. Malin handed the flashlight to Elna and grabbed the handle of the door. As he tried to turn it, it resisted, as before. He grabbed the handle with both hands an
d put his back into it, and slowly, creaking loud enough to wake the dead, it turned.
When he pulled the door open, he heard desperate, furtive movements somewhere ahead of him, as if startled animals were scurrying about. Beyond the door, a set of stairs led up to a small landing. Elna started up the stairs, clamping the flashlight between her teeth as she drew her pistol.
People. They were hearing people up there. Someone had heard the opening of the door and was scrambling to get into hiding. Malin drew his handgun and followed Elna up the steps. He wanted to tell her to turn off the flashlight, but that would plunge them into complete darkness. Instead, he took the flashlight from her mouth and aimed the light at his feet.
As he approached the top step, Malin crouched down and thrust the handgun out in front of him. There was a small landing at the top of the steps, followed by a sliding door that was hidden behind a wine rack. As he peered over the top step, he was not entirely surprised to see that the door was wide open. Beyond, he saw the large wine cellar, the stone walls, wooden racks, and pillars. Judging by the map he’d seen downstairs, the wine cellar started somewhere near the back of the house and ran out toward the vineyard.
He heard strange, faint sounds. Some were closer than others, and he strained to make them out. Bodies shifting about somewhere nearby. Tinny voices coming as if from a distant monaural radio speaker. Malin glanced at Elna, and she shrugged in return. They moved from behind the stairs together, Malin turning to the right as he passed through the door, Elna to the left. Malin swung the flashlight around, aiming into the far corner.
The light passed over the racks and various alcoves in the walls, over crates and boxes, and then settled on two figures huddled in a deep well in the corner. He was so startled to see them there that he lurched backward, his finger sliding against the trigger. He would have fired if not for the awkward stumble and the wobbling of the light.
They were small, huddled against the wall behind an empty rack and pressed together, their eyes squeezed shut. Suddenly, one of them opened her eyes and rose to her knees, thrusting her hands over her head.
“We surrender. Don’t shoot. He’s just an old man. Don’t hurt him.” The words came tumbling out of her mouth so fast he almost couldn’t tell what she was saying. He was so startled to see her there that he froze for a second, then slowly willed himself to lower the gun.
She can’t see our faces because of the flashlight in her eyes, he realized, then he lowered the flashlight.
“Oh my gosh,” she said. “Malin. Elna. What in the heck? Where did you come from? How…?”
Selene lowered her hands and rose, fear giving way to slack-jawed amazement—as if she’d just seen them phase through the wall itself. Elna rushed past Malin then, holstering her pistol, as Selene rose to meet her.
“Seriously, where did you come from?” Selene said. “We were hiding in this weird dead-end staircase. George said it was blocked, but we heard people coming up behind us somehow, and we were so scared! Is it the tunnel? Is it the tunnel the mercenaries are looking for?”
Instead of answering, Elna went to her father’s side and helped him to his feet, pulling him into an embrace.
“Yes, it’s a tunnel,” Malin said finally, “but not for long. We have to get out of here. The Marines are bringing it down.”
“This is all crazy,” Selene said, stepping out from behind the wine rack.
Malin gestured for her to go back through the open door, but as he did, he became aware of the strange tinny voices again. They seemed to be coming from somewhere in the room, as if there were a very small, low quality speaker in the cellar. He shined the flashlight in the direction of the sound and discovered a small, rusty air vent low on the wall between two racks.
“Who is that?” he asked.
“That’s the commander of the other army,” Selene said. “He’s up in the kitchen. Malin, this place is crawling with those guys, and they’re searching every room.”
Elna was still hugging her father, and Malin thought he heard her quietly crying, but she pulled back now.
“Dad, don’t ever wander off like that again,” she said. “Stay right with me from now on.”
He held up a small cloth bag. When he did, some small bits of metal rattled around inside. “Just grabbing a few things of your mother’s before we set off. What if we never come back here?”
“Those things don’t matter. You matter. Come on.” She wiped her eyes, put an arm around his shoulders, and guided him back to the open door. The old guy looked frailer than ever, bent and shuffling along, his clothes and beard all dusty.
“I thought this rescue was gonna go a lot worse,” Malin muttered, holstering his pistol as he followed Elna and the others back to the door. “We lucked out, my friends. Let’s go.”
24
Elna hadn’t been paying attention to the strange voices coming from the air vent. All of her attention had been on her father. Pop felt so small, his bony shoulder poking through his shirt. Though she hadn’t expressed her doubts to Malin, she’d had low expectations for this rescue mission, yet she’d found him almost immediately. It was an amazing turn of events, and she felt hopeful for the first time in hours.
At least he’s alive, she thought. At least we got him out of here.
She was just about to pass through the open door when a voice from the air vent suddenly shouted. The sound reminded Elna of when she used to talk into a long cardboard tube as a kid. It had a kind of focused but muffled quality. Nevertheless, the words caught her attention.
“I’ve been through all of their paperwork. There’s no map showing the exact location of a tunnel entrance, but I know my intel is correct. It’s around here somewhere. I’m sure of it. And you’re going to find it! Tear this whole building down. Rip it down to the foundation if you have to, but find that tunnel.”
This was followed by a crash and thud, other voices speaking over each other, someone cursing. Were they having a fistfight up there?
“Who is that?” Elna asked.
Selene had just stepped through the open door. “That’s the commander,” she said.
Elna gently pushed her father through the door, but she turned back. When Malin started to say something, she put a finger to her lips. She wanted to hear the commander. She wanted to know what they were planning.
“These people left in a hurry,” the commander said. “They made no attempt to hide that fact. The Marines are with them. Now, what does that tell you? It tells me that there’s probably another way in and out of this house. You checked the wine cellar thoroughly?”
“Yes, sir, we looked down there real good,” a soldier replied, slurring his words. He was clearly on his way to drunk. “We walked all around it. I told you that already! Look yourself if you—”
Elna heard a loud smack followed by a bang, as if the soldier had been slapped and knocked into something. This was followed by a crash, some unintelligible shouting and cursing, and more unidentifiable smashing sounds.
“I want two teams down there,” the commander shouted. “Knock down the walls, turn over every box, dig up the floor. Don’t come back up until you’ve taken that place apart brick by brick. Go!”
Footsteps on the kitchen floor, moving through the building. Coming quick.
“Let’s go, Elna,” Malin said.
“Will the charges be ready? Fish needed time, and he expected us to have to search the house,” Elna replied. An idea had started to form in her head, an idea that was perhaps a bit reckless, but now she saw it clearly. “There’s a good chance the mercs will find the entrance if they start poking and prodding down here. We can’t let that happen. We have to turn the cellar into a trap.”
“What does that mean?” Malin asked.
She pointed down the left side of the cellar. “If we funnel all of the soldiers down the left side of the room, it’ll be like shooting fish in a barrel. We can take cover behind the steps. We’ll get at least a few of them. Then we shut the door and f
lee down the tunnel. If they attempt to follow us, they’ll get caught in the explosion.” Prig wouldn’t like the plan. She knew that. But this seemed like the best, and perhaps only, opportunity to deal with these guys with some advantage.
“You’re ready for a fight like that?” Malin asked. “It’s one thing to chase after the Marines while they run and gun through a militia camp, but this…?”
“This is what it’s come to, Malin,” she said. “We’re fighting for our island now, and we’re fighting for ourselves. Come on. Help me.”
She grabbed the nearest wine rack and began dragging it away from the wall. It was heavy old wood, and it didn’t move easily. Malin rushed to the other end and helped her pick it up. They carried it to the middle of the room and set it against the pillars, covering the gaps along the first three. This would force the soldiers to take to the left side of the room, and it would also prevent them from using the first few pillars as cover. Of course, they could move the wine rack, but that would take a few seconds—time enough for an ambush.
Once the long rack was in place, Elna rushed back to the open door. She saw Selene and George standing on the other side and she waved them on.
“Go, go, down the stairs,” she said. “Don’t wait for us.”
Selene grabbed George by the wrist and guided him down the stairs. As they went, Elna grabbed the sliding door and pulled it about halfway shut, providing herself a little more cover. Then she dropped to her knees, half-hidden behind the door, and raised her pistol. Malin took up a position behind her, one shoulder against the door, as he pointed the Beretta into the wine cellar. The footsteps of the mercenaries were approaching from the upstairs hall.
“The flashlight,” Elna said.
Island Refuge EMP Box Set | Books 1-3 Page 67
