The passage was beyond a service door, which was locked. Rafe and Maye managed to kick the steel door down, since we didn't have a key and it didn't have a keypad. The small, square room was for maintenance workers only—containing a six-foot, round airshaft in the floor, with a huge fan whirling inside the shaft. Why did I take them that way?
Beyond the airshaft lay another door that hadn't been used in a very long time. It led to the abandoned site once known as the Chancery Lane deep shelter and Kingsway telephone exchange.
"We have to cross the shaft and get to that other door," I shouted over the noise of the fan and pointing at the door beyond. "Rafe, we need the door placed over the shaft so we can cross, then we need to carry it through that other door when Auggie and the guard get here."
"His name is Dave," the PM said.
"Dave and Auggie," I corrected myself.
"I'll make sure it happens," Rafe nodded.
Carefully, he and Kevin lifted the door and laid it across the shaft. Blocking the air caused newly created winds to swirl about us, lifting my skirts and attempting to blow my dress over my head. Grabbing expensive fabric, I tied it in a makeshift knot so I wouldn't endanger myself or the others.
The door barely fit over the shaft, and the PM's second guard made the first trip to test its safety before allowing the PM across.
The Secretary came next, with Ken, Dalton and Maye close behind. I could hear running footsteps in the hall outside by that time.
"Go, Corinne," Rafe urged.
I pulled Kevin with me, and halfway across the door, with forced air whipping hair and clothing, I heard muted gunshots outside.
Hurry, Auggie, I thought at him before Kevin leapt off the door, sending it scraping across the opening and almost dislodging it with me still on it.
Rafe shouted before grabbing the door and keeping it from sliding off the shaft. I fell to my knees and teetered for a moment on the door's edge, almost coming face to face with whirling fan blades.
August ran in, supporting a bleeding Dave—he had a shoulder wound where an enemy's bullet had hit its mark. Standing as quickly as I could, I took two steps and almost fell off the end of the door, leaving it empty for the others to cross.
Dave had managed to kill two of our pursuers, but he'd been wounded in the process. It didn't matter that two were dead; more were on the way. Dave had to be helped across the chasm by Rafe and August—he'd already lost a lot of blood and was far too unsteady on his own.
"Maye, we need this door down, too," I gasped for breath as I came to a stop at the second door.
"We'll get it," Kevin and Ken said together. I moved aside to allow them room. In unison, they kicked, sending a not-so-heavy door crashing into a round tunnel beyond.
"I hope you know where you're going," the PM said. "I have no working knowledge of these tunnels."
"I think she knows," Rafe said, grabbing my arm and pulling me through the door. "Buck up, cabbage. We need you to get us out of this. We still have eight behind us, and they're armed to the teeth."
I took off, Rafe beside me, with the others following. Ken dropped back to help August support Dave; we didn't have time to stop and give the poor man first aid. At least the wound was in his right shoulder, but it had to hurt and he was bleeding badly. Ken had a hand over the wound, attempting to slow the blood loss.
"This is a nightmare," I panted as I ran. I hoped we could get through the tunnels without the enemy sighting us well enough to take more shots. "This way," I called, turning to the right and running through another tunnel.
The tunnels were round and sturdily built, with regular, curved steel ribs supporting the structure. A rumble over our heads sent a ripple through the group, until we realized it was a tube train rolling past. One of those tunnels lay above us at some point. "Charing Cross," the PM mumbled. At least he knew where we were.
Lighting was quite dim, too—there wasn't any need to fully illuminate a tunnel system that was only used for storage at times. Our footsteps echoed—it couldn't be helped—everyone ran in dress shoes; Maye and I in heels.
Once, these tunnels housed government records, followed by the trunk exchange run by the Post Office, where calls could be routed throughout Britain. Its claim to fame was that the hotline between the Kremlin and the White House passed through the exchange. Who knew that one day, the Prime Minister and the U.S. Secretary of State would be running through to escape assassins?
We raced past generators bolted to the floor in round tunnels at least fifteen feet in diameter. A bullet pinged off one of the metal behemoths somewhere behind us. "Are you armed?" Rafe asked the PM's second guard. That drew our momentum to a temporary halt.
"He is," the PM answered.
"Give me your gun. I'll hold them off," Rafe said.
"I don't think that's a good idea," the guard snapped.
"Edward, give him your gun," the PM ordered.
"You can have mine, too," Dave panted as August and Ken carried him forward. Rafe took Dave's gun and ejected the clip. "I only fired twice," Dave explained. He'd hit a target with both shots.
"Mine's fully loaded," Edward handed his gun to Rafe.
"I'll stay with Rafe," Maye offered.
"Do it," August nodded curtly. "Get them off our backs until Corinne can get us out of here."
"Save your shots," Rafe handed Edward's gun to Maye.
"I'm not stupid," Maye hissed.
"Good. I don't need stupid," Rafe said. "I need a good shot."
"Come on," August nodded at me while I blinked at Rafe.
Heaving a sigh, I turned and led our party toward the next branch in the tunnels. That passage would take us upward and to another door, which I hoped to hell the PM could get us through. I also hoped that Rafe and Maye would make it out as well.
* * *
Ilya
I positioned myself behind a huge generator that hadn't seen operation in more than a decade. Maye settled behind a bulkhead fifteen feet behind, after I'd told her to take two shots from that location when our pursuers reached a point ten feet from where I knelt.
Giving me a nod she settled in, preparing to get two shots off as requested. Likely, she'd make them count, too. We had standard British issue Glock 17s, and I had fifteen rounds to her full seventeen.
They came after us, boots hitting the tunnel floor in a regular rhythm. They weren't expecting any of their quarry to stage an ambush—they assumed all of us would keep running.
Maye hit the first target in the head three feet ahead of me, as requested. The second target was hit in the leg. He shouted at the others and jumped toward my hiding spot.
That was a mistake.
Grabbing him by the neck of his body armor, I flung him into a steel rib, crushing his skull. He was dead when his body slid to the floor. Maye fired again, hitting a third pursuer in the throat. He fell, gurgling and gasping for breath before he died. Jerking the Glock from my belt, I fired at two more, wounding one and forcing the other to take cover behind another generator farther back.
They hadn't anticipated our ambush, and I now had two dead men near enough to filch their weapons.
We had Glocks—they had submachine guns. Two of those would be useful during a brief siege. One of their remaining five was wounded, and if we waited long enough, he'd bleed out from the wound to his leg. If we waited long enough, perhaps Corinne would get the PM to a phone where he could call for backup.
* * *
Corinne
I did my best not to jerk every time a gun was fired in the tunnel behind us. Dave looked extremely pale and August and Ken were now carrying him. I'd gotten a good look—he'd kept August from getting shot, taking the bullet in his own shoulder and getting two shots off in the bargain.
I was determined to get him out of this mess so he could get the help he needed. The tunnel we needed next was feet away, now, and we'd take another right. We'd be going up flights of stairs past that, and I hoped we had enough strength left to make it.
"This isn't the Furnival Street exit," the PM said, reading the sign we passed as we made the right turn into the adjoining tunnel. "It's the Tooks Court exit. That's blocked."
"Says you," I said, my breathing ragged. I was tiring and worried I wouldn't make it up the steps toward the surface. Those steps were wide and made of concrete as we began to ascend. Ken and Auggie began breathing hard halfway up—they still carried Dave, who was now unconscious.
* * *
Ilya
The one I'd wounded likely realized he was dying, and decided to go out fighting. He intended to open a path for the four behind him by emptying his submachine gun in our direction. He was successful up to a point—I hit him in the head the moment he ran out of ammunition, but his efforts had given the others a chance to move forward.
They still outnumbered us, and one of them shouted that information at us as his fellow assassin dropped to the floor.
"Fuck off. I don't care how many of you there are," Maye shouted back.
"Stop being an American," I hissed in her direction.
* * *
Corinne
I imagined that a heart attack awaited as I struggled up endless steps. Keep going, I chastised myself. I only carried myself. August and Ken carried a wounded man between them. Even the Secretary was doing better than I was, and he was in his sixties. When we reached the door, I almost collapsed next to the doorframe.
"Prime Minister?" Edward turned to the PM. The door was there, and it was armed. Not just with a keypad, either. This one had a retina scanner, too.
"Try your radio, Edward," the PM nodded at his guard.
"Still not working, sir," Edward said after making the attempt. I figured the tunnels had stymied the technology, but here, we were close to the surface. The PM turned to the apparatus next to the door.
"Keeping secrets, eh?" the PM sighed and shook his head. "Well, I have an eyeball and a code. Let's hope both work."
* * *
Ilya
Two minutes passed before another assassin made the attempt. He leapt from his hiding place, firing his weapon indiscriminately while his three fellows moved forward behind him. By the time his weapon was empty, they were much closer than they had been.
I took him down the moment his ammunition ran out, but had to duck behind the generator again when the others fired at me. If they continued to do this, they'd be on me before the last man went down.
* * *
Corinne
A part of my mind knew, even as tired as I was, that the PM could get through the door. I just hoped the rest of us would also be allowed through. The moment the door swung open, six men, armed with semiautomatic weapons, waited for us.
The PM was not happy.
* * *
Ilya
Two more committed suicide, leaving one in a position very close to mine. I'd taken down his predecessors when their ammunition was depleted, but every time, this one moved forward.
I figured he was the best of the lot—or the worst, where I was concerned. He intended to kill Maye and me, no matter what it took. He fired several rounds in my direction, just to see what I'd do.
Bullets hitting metal from that close is always a frightening experience. I preferred to be farther away, as any one of those bullets could kill me instantly if they struck my head. I had plans for the future, and they certainly didn't include dying in an abandoned tunnel in Britain.
Another round of bullets hit around me. Maye shouted—one ricocheted, hitting her in the arm. Leaping up, I fired at the assassin's position with the Glock, emptying it before lifting one of the semiautomatics and firing it as I walked forward. He was four feet away from me and I dared him to fire back. I'd waited for the last one; they'd instructed me to hold back unless there was no other option. I grinned as I emptied the gun and he rose from his hiding place.
Time to employ the shield.
* * *
Corinne
"Sir, there's gunfire in the tunnel," one of the armed guards informed the Prime Minister. "Ours are on the way, but they may not arrive in time."
I held my breath.
Dave was receiving medical care nearby while an ambulance was en route. We'd ended up in the Government Actuary Department, which had been built over the old Tooks Court entrance into the tunnels. All records indicated the shaft to the surface had been sealed off.
All those records lied. I assumed the lie held a purpose; I was too terrified for Rafe to consider the reasons.
We'd been led to a comfortable office after the Prime Minister threatened to have all six armed men sacked if they didn't allow us passage, once he got the door open. They couldn't help us fast enough after that.
"Corinne, he and Maye are very good. If there's any way," August sat heavily beside me.
"August, don't give me platitudes," I whispered, attempting to shove down the panic attack.
"Water, mum," a bottle was placed in my hands.
"Drink it, Corinne," August said, taking the cap off the bottle he was given and emptying it in six swallows.
"This is insane," I mumbled, struggling to remove the cap on my bottle. August took it and did it for me. I drank. Until that moment, I hadn't realized how thirsty I was—or how shaky. I could barely hold the bottle steady to drink.
"Save any for me?" Rafe knelt beside my chair.
I spilled water on him, giving him a grateful hug.
Chapter 8
Corinne
We heard about the theft of the Imperial State Crown, the Orb and the Sceptre from the Tower of London on the drive to our hotel. The Secretary was with us; the PM had an appointment at Buckingham Palace.
What did it matter that it was after two in the morning? Maye's wound was a graze, and the ambulance crew that arrived to take charge of Dave had patched her up. "Do you think the two incidents were connected?" Kevin asked.
I was much too tired to speak, and almost too tired to listen. I huddled into my corner of the limousine and listened while the others talked.
"We can't rule that out," August said. He and the Secretary of State had been on the phone almost from the moment we'd gotten out of the tunnel. Rafe dispatched the last of the assassins after Maye was wounded, so all eight were dead.
The PM could sort all that out; I wanted a shower. Crawling through a vent in an evening dress, followed by a lengthy run through abandoned tunnels hadn't done much for me or my clothing. I was covered in dust, grime and had at least three long rips in my dress. The others didn't look much better.
August also reported on the assassins waiting at the Waterloo exit for the PM—of the four of those, one was dead and three managed to escape. A manhunt was ongoing, but I didn't hold much hope that they'd be caught.
When Mary Evans' name was mentioned, however, I did perk up. "She's missing. We had someone following her, and she just disappeared," August shrugged.
That was a problem. A really big problem.
"We'll have a meeting in the morning, before we fly back to the States," August said. "The PM is providing guards at the hotel. Try to get as much rest as possible. Everybody should be up by oh-eight-hundred. Cori, I want to talk to you tonight."
"No, Auggie," I moaned. I wanted a shower and bed. August wanted to talk.
"You, too, Rafe."
* * *
"The Secretary of State will see to it that none of you will be mentioned in the rescue operation," August paced in front of us. He'd hauled us inside his suite for the talk while the others were herded to their bedrooms by their handlers.
August sent Dalton to his room, too. I wondered how he felt about the exclusion. "While Dave really is a hero for saving my ass in those tunnels, he'll get the bulk of the credit. Neither of you can mention this incident outside the Mansion."
"You don't let me outside the Mansion anymore—who am I gonna talk to?" I muttered. I was exhausted and shaking.
"I know the drill, Colonel," Rafe said. "We need sleep, not a lecture."
&nb
sp; "Then you can go. Corinne has to stay."
Rafe mumbled something in his native language. I got the idea he was telling Auggie to go fuck himself. He stalked out of the suite, leaving me alone with Colonel August Hunter.
"Corinne, I want to talk to you about your transfer. I heard you as plain as day in my head. Now, I'm not talented, so there's no way I can send a message back, but that talent alone could make you invaluable to the Program. There are no bugs in this room, so you can speak freely about what happened tonight."
"I don't want to talk about it," I said, wrapping arms about myself tightly. The shaking was getting worse.
"Look, I have to put this in my report to the President."
"Then do what you have to do. It could get us both killed."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" August exploded.
"Cutter," I whispered, my voice trembling. "He'll be first in line for the VP's job. That would be a major mistake."
"What the hell does that have to do with this?" August was angry and on the verge of violence.
"Do you have Dalton's phone conversations tapped?" I lifted my eyes to watch August as he went still.
"Corinne, that's classified," he began.
"Then listen to them for the next two days. I think you'll get an answer, Auggie, and you may not like it when you hear it."
* * *
I was barely out of the shower when Rafe walked into my room. "Are you all right?" he asked. I was wrapped in the robe supplied by the hotel and my hair was hanging in wet strings down my back. Not my most attractive moment.
"I'm fine," I lied. "How about you?"
"Look, I've done this all my life," he said, raking fingers through his hair and looking away for a moment. "It really doesn't bother me. I know it bothers you."
"There's nothing we can do about it," I said. "I'm sure Dr. Shaw will be waiting the moment I get back to the Mansion."
"Someday, cabbage, we should have a talk," Rafe said.
"Fine, as long as it isn't tonight."
"Agreed. Go to bed and try to sleep." He walked out of my room, closing the door softly behind him.
* * *
Notes—Colonel Hunter
Cloud Dust: RD-1 Page 9
