Ray appeared disappointed, but he didn’t protest. “Okay. I’ll wait until twilight. Good luck.”
“If we don’t come back, sound the alarm in town and get every able-bodied fighter here,” Hayden said.
Lucas stepped to the lip of the shaft and leaned to grab the rope. He tested it and then lowered himself into the void, his rifle scraping against the concrete as he rappelled into the darkness. Mark followed him down, and Hayden brought up the rear as Ray watched in silence. When they were out of sight, he turned and made his way back down the trail after a final look at the water.
Lucas waited at the bottom of the shaft, where he could make out the passageway Ray had described leading in two directions. When the others arrived, he held a finger to his lips and then signaled for them to follow, stopping every few yards to listen. Enough light filtered from above that they could discern some detail in the vent shaft, and they continued until they encountered another opening at their feet, the protective grid pushed to the side, just as Ray had described. A series of iron rungs led down, and Lucas swore under his breath – his NV goggles would have come in handy at this point, but they were with Ruby’s gear. He unslung his M4 and switched on the scope, and did a quick scan before turning to Hayden and murmuring, “Careful going down. Make sure your weapons don’t hit anything or it could give us away.”
They negotiated the laddered handholds until they found themselves in a hall. Lucas took another look through the scope and led them toward a door at the end of the corridor, ignoring the rooms along the way, the interiors pitch black. At the door, he took a deep breath and tried the handle, which squeaked as it turned. He looked over his shoulder at Hayden, who had his rifle in hand, and whispered softly, “Make sure you keep your finger off the trigger so you don’t shoot me in the back. Same goes for you, Mark.”
They assented, and Lucas pulled the door toward him. He was surprised when the level of ambient light increased, and he spied daylight entering from another shaft – not much, but enough so they could make out objects. Lucas led with his M4, taking cautious steps, and stopped at the first door along the hall. He pointed, and Hayden stood to its side, rifle pointed at the ceiling, while Mark stood beside him, looking unsure of what to do. Lucas whispered to Hayden, “I’ll swing this open, and you go in low. It’s probably empty, so don’t fire unless someone shoots first. Mark, you stay out of the line of fire here in the hallway.”
Hayden grunted assent, and Lucas again questioned the wisdom of bringing this pair into the belly of the beast. He swallowed and tightened his grip on the door, and then pushed it open, stepping from the doorway as it swung wide. Hayden ducked into the gap, rifle shouldered, the only sound that of their breathing. The room was obviously empty. Lucas moved to the next door and they repeated the maneuver until they reached a T junction.
“Which way?” Hayden whispered, and Lucas frowned and held his finger to his lips again. They waited as he cocked his head, and then he pointed to the right.
“Smell it?”
Hayden shook his head, and Mark looked at him, puzzled. Lucas’s nose wrinkled and he sniffed the air before turning back to them.
“Someone’s making breakfast.”
Chapter 45
Lucas padded down the hall toward another series of doors, pausing occasionally to listen and smell, following his nose to an air duct in the ceiling. The others tailed him, moving more slowly, their lack of night vision gear impeding their progress.
He stopped below the vent and waited for Hayden and Mark to catch up, and then whispered to them, “Stronger here. Wherever that shaft connects to is where the smell’s coming from.”
“How do you propose we get up there?” Hayden asked.
“You two give me a boost, and I’ll see if I can get it loose. If I can, once I’m up, I’ll worry about how to get you up, too.”
Mark and Hayden shouldered their rifles and did as instructed. Lucas pushed against the grid and it shifted. He heaved with all his might, and it moved enough to create a two-foot gap. “Get me a little higher,” he whispered. The men strained to do as asked, and then Lucas had his hands locked around the rim and was pulling himself into the duct. Hayden continued pushing on Lucas’s feet as Mark let go, and Lucas hoisted his body up and into the shaft, which was a three-foot-square hole in the concrete slab connected to a steel ducting system.
Lucas looked down at Hayden and pointed to him. “Take off your jeans and hand them up here. We can use them as a rope.”
“Why don’t you?” Hayden countered.
“I can’t get them off in here. Too little space.”
Hayden grumbled, but shed his pants and tossed them to Lucas, who wrapped part of one leg around his wrist and locked his fingers around the fabric while dangling the other toward the men.
“Which of you is lighter?” Lucas asked.
“Probably me,” Mark said.
“Then grab this end, and Hayden, you lift him while I pull him up. Mark, you can help by climbing hand over hand. Ready?”
Mark steeled himself and latched onto the jeans. “Sure.”
Hayden moved beneath him and together they manhandled Mark upwards until he could drag himself into the opening. When he was inside, he turned and Lucas dropped the jeans to Hayden again. “Okay, now you. This will be harder, but you can do it.”
Hayden reached up and pulled himself upward, inch by inch, his arms trembling from exertion. When he was within reach, Mark grabbed the top of his flak jacket and heaved while Lucas did the same with the jeans. Hayden scrambled into the confined space, and the three men sat panting, the air suddenly warm from their proximity. They made some room and the sheriff donned his pants, and then Mark and Hayden looked to Lucas for direction.
“Smell’s coming from this way,” Lucas said, indicating the left duct. “Be careful with your weapons. You bump something and make noise, this is over before it starts. I’ll take the lead.”
Lucas crawled ahead, his M4 strapped tight to his back, and inched toward a bend in the shaft. When he reached it, he had to twist to get around it, and he stopped and murmured to his companions, warning them of what they were coming up to. Without the scope he would have been completely blind, and he knew that Hayden and Mark were both pushing against the limits of any instinctive claustrophobia to follow him deeper into the maze of shafts.
Further along, light radiated from another grid in the duct, and Lucas paused, listening. He could hear muted voices emanating from the vent, speaking Chinese. He studied the layout and eyed another vent further along, which like the others they’d crawled across, was dark. Lucas pointed to the lit one and whispered so softly he was nearly inaudible.
“Skirt the lit vent and keep going. Whatever you do, don’t make a sound.”
Lucas inched to the grid and looked down into a large room with what appeared to be the entire Chinese contingent cleaning weapons on a pair of long work tables. One of the group stood in the far corner at a camp stove, stirring a concoction that smelled like fish stew while the rest oiled and fieldstripped assault rifles. The light they were working by emanated from LED work lamps – which told Lucas that they must have had solar to charge the batteries, either here or on the boats.
He continued past the vent and moved to the darkened grid further along the duct and, after surveying it through his night vision scope, backed up to where the sheriff and Mark were waiting and whispered to them, “Hayden, you stay by this vent. Mark, you come with me. That next opening is a room adjacent to the one below us. They’re all in there, so we’ll drop next door and hit them from two angles – Hayden from above, and the two of us from the doorway of that room. We do this right, we should be able to take them out with the crossfire.”
Mark seemed uncertain, but nodded in the dark. Hayden gave him a thumbs-up. “How will I know when to start shooting?”
“Hold your fire until we throw open the door and open up. This can be over in ten seconds if we’re lucky.”
Lucas
paused and, when there was no objection from his companions, dog-crawled past the illuminated vent, hesitating by it to look down once more before continuing along until he reached the second grid. He winced as Mark’s bulk rustled behind him, his only consolation that the duct was sunk into solid concrete, so unlike in a building with a drop ceiling, where the occupants of the room would hear the slightest sound coming from the vent shaft, the Chinese would remain unaware of their presence until it was too late. His hope was that they would be confident that nobody could penetrate the base, which was a virtual fortress built into the hill, unless they cut through the main entrance – and Lucas was sure that they had booby-trapped that access point with an IED; it was what he would have done.
A scrape from Mark’s gun barrel echoed through the shaft, and he froze halfway between the two vents. Lucas glared at him from the second grid. Nobody moved as they waited to see whether the Chinese had been tipped, but when there was no shouting or scrambling below, Lucas motioned for him to continue toward him, worry lines etched deep into his sun-burnished face.
When Mark reached Lucas, Hayden crept forward, thankfully in complete silence, and took up a position by the side of the illuminated vent, assault rifle in hand. The aluminum grid was made from two-inch squares, through which he could easily fire, if somewhat blindly. But in the limited space beneath him, his rounds would have a devastating effect, the ricochets as deadly as if he’d taken careful aim.
Lucas laid his M4 beside him, slipped his fingers through the gridwork of the darkened vent, and lifted, applying steady pressure. The grid shifted and he pulled it free, surprised by its light weight. He laid it further along the shaft and then retrieved his M4 and slipped the sling over his shoulder before turning so his feet were facing the opening. He slid until his legs were hanging into empty space and then lowered himself until he was suspended from the ceiling, boots five feet from the floor below.
He released the edge and dropped to the concrete, landing in a crouch, and in a single deft motion, freed the M4 and swept the room with the scope. Other than a network of pipes in the corner and a couple of steel cabinets, there was nothing inside. He stopped at a door on the far wall, and then shouldered the rifle strap and returned to the vent to whisper up to Mark.
“Come on.”
Mark’s legs appeared in the gap, and Lucas stood below as he eased down, and steadied him when he could reach Mark’s thighs. Mark hung for a long moment and then Lucas felt his full weight and allowed him to slide to the floor, his landing only slightly louder than Lucas’s.
When Mark was standing with his rifle in hand, Lucas whispered to him, “Door’s over here. Follow me.” Lucas guided him in the pitch darkness to the steel slab and stood by the handle.
“How do you want to do this?” Mark asked, flipping his AR-15 safety off.
“I’ll push the door open, and you take the right side and I’ll take the left. Your rifle have a burst mode on it?”
Mark’s confidence sounded forced to Lucas’s ear. “Yes.”
“Spare magazines?”
“In my vest.”
“Then let’s do this. Ready?”
Mark hesitated for a beat. “Yes.”
Lucas felt the handle and exerted gentle pressure. It turned, confirming that it wasn’t locked. He took a deep breath and exhaled softly. “All right. On my count. One…two…”
Chapter 46
Mark sneezed behind Lucas as he was twisting the door handle, the sound explosive in the empty space. Lucas pushed the door wide, but the crucial moment of hesitation as Mark readied himself cost them dearly, and several of the Chinese opened fire at the doorway while the others dove for cover behind the workbenches. Lucas commenced directing three-round bursts into the room, and then Mark was firing from his side, fear and fury competing on his visage for dominance.
Lucas’s first salvo caught one of the shooters in the chest, and he stumbled back, continuing to squeeze the trigger of his weapon as he went down. Hayden opened up from the vent, and the room became a killing field as the occupants were caught in the deadly crossfire. But the crucial element of surprise had been lost by Mark’s ill-timed sneeze, and enough of the Chinese had reached their weapons with the split second of forewarning to mount a scathing counterattack, reducing Lucas’s ability to easily take out his targets.
Bullets whined off the concrete wall separating them from the Chinese and thumped into the steel door as he and Mark sprayed the room with lead. Hayden’s rifle stuttered from the vent, and screams of pain punctuated the gunfire as their rounds found home. Lucas spied Chen’s familiar face as he blasted away with an AK from the corner of the room, and then the area went pitch black as one of the Chinese cut the lights.
Orange muzzle flashes lit the interior like blinking fireflies, and Mark grunted and slipped to the floor with a moan. Lucas emptied the remainder of his magazine through the doorway, targeting the shooters making for a door on the far side of the room, and then ejected the spent one and seated another in place before calling out to Mark.
“Where are you hit?”
A groan answered his query, and Lucas darted across the doorway, firing as he moved, and knelt by Mark. He couldn’t make out anything in the darkness, but when he brought his scope to bear, it didn’t look good. A ricochet had entered the back of Mark’s lower neck and exited the front, leaving a wound the size of a golf ball. Mark was bleeding out, the damage clearly terminal.
Lucas fired into the room again, sighting with the NV scope, and left Mark’s side as he slipped from the world, already unconscious, his brain starved for oxygen as his life seeped away in a warm puddle on the floor.
The shooting from the room abated when Hayden switched magazines, and Lucas held his fire and swept the area with the scope. He estimated at least twenty of the Chinese were neutralized, but that left ten who could inflict more damage. The door at the far side of the room slammed and drew Lucas’s aim, and his eyes narrowed – at least some of the shooters had escaped through it, leaving Lucas with a difficult choice: leave well enough alone, or pursue them into unknown territory, where he was at a disadvantage and could be ambushed at every turn.
When nobody else fired, Lucas called out to Hayden, “Some got away.”
“What do you want to do?”
Lucas hesitated. “I’ll go after them. My scope’s an advantage. You stay put.”
“Can’t see anything.”
“I’ll see if I can find the switch.”
Lucas crept into the room and surveyed the downed shooters, most of whom were obviously dead. A few were struggling for breath, and Lucas moved to one and toed his weapons out of reach before moving to the next and repeating the maneuver. When he was sure that nobody presented a danger, he roamed over the room until spotting a work light.
He switched it on and regarded the carnage. The floor of the room was awash in blood, his boots sticky with it. He looked up at Hayden, who slid the vent grid aside and peered down.
“Mark?” Hayden asked.
Lucas shook his head and stepped toward the far door. He paused as his hand touched the handle, prepared for more gunfire when he opened it. He swung it toward him and stepped behind the cover of the heavy steel slab, and was surprised when there was no shooting. After several seconds, he swung around the door with his M4, crouched at waist height, and eyed the corridor.
Empty.
He lowered his aim and spotted rust-colored footprints leading off down the hall, the drying blood as good as paint in leaving a trail. Lucas listened as best he could, straining to hear through the tinnitus ringing like a steady whistle in his ears, but detected nothing.
He spun at a noise behind him, weapon at the ready, and relaxed when he saw Hayden standing beneath the gap in the ceiling, where he’d dropped to the floor. Their eyes met and Lucas pointed to the work light.
“Shut it off and let your vision adjust, and then we’ll chase them down.”
“I have a flashlight.”
&
nbsp; Lucas shook his head. “That’ll just draw fire. You’ll need to stay on my tail.”
The sheriff crossed the room and switched the lamp off. The room plunged into complete darkness, and they were both surprised when the corridor glowed with a faint illumination. Lucas pointed with his rifle at the floor, where LEDs lit the edges of the hall.
“There must be a power source somewhere,” he whispered.
Lucas led the way down the hall, which had no doors, and stopped just short of a junction. He leaned toward Hayden and murmured almost inaudibly, “Wonder why they didn’t wait here and hold us off? It’s the natural place to do it.”
“Could they think there are more of us than there are?”
Lucas frowned. “One grenade would have done the trick.”
“Maybe they don’t have any.”
Lucas ducked around the corner, leading with his rifle, to find another long corridor, this one lined with metal doors. He eyed the floor, where the bloody footprints continued along the hall, growing fainter in the distance. He pointed at the tracks, and Hayden followed his gesture. “No question where they went.”
The lights abruptly went out, and Lucas froze. He slowly raised the M4 and peered into the scope, sighting at a door at the end of the hall, and whispered to Hayden, “Grab my vest. We’re going to walk to the door at the far end.”
Hayden did as instructed and they moved to the door. Lucas tried the knob, which turned, but when he pushed against the door, it didn’t budge. He frowned and exerted more pressure with his shoulder, but nothing.
“It’s bolted on the other side,” he said.
“So now what?”
“Let’s have a look around with your flashlight.”
Hayden retrieved the little light from his vest and cranked the handle. The LEDs blinked to life and he handed it to Lucas, who used the faint beam to scan the length of the hall. Seeing no vents, he slowed at one of the doors and turned to face the sheriff.
The Day After Never - Insurrection (Book 5) Page 23
