by Layton Green
“Moment of truth,” Jax said, as he inserted one of the black-and-silver ID cards into the chip reader.
The door retracted smoothly into the ceiling, revealing a gleaming elevator big enough to fit two golf carts.
“It can’t be long before someone notices the guards missing,” Jax said.
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“How about that you have about half an hour of my services left before I hightail it out of Crazy Town?”
Grey grimaced and gave a curt nod.
They drove the golf cart inside and hit the only button on the control panel. The elevator whooshed downward for ten long seconds. At the bottom, Grey’s eyes widened as they exited on the shore of a turquoise underground river with a thick blanket of steam rising off it. The river disappeared into the distance on both sides. A pair of flat-bottom transport barges were affixed to a steel dock.
Just outside the elevator, an arcing suspension bridge spanned the river. Grey waved Jax forward, and they sped across, encountering another signpost on the other side.
CRYONIC STORAGE straight ahead, through a circular manmade tunnel.
DETENTION to the left.
GEOTHERMAL PLANT and MESS HALL to the right.
Three golf carts sped by without a glance, coming from Cryonic Storage and heading towards a line of miniature smokestacks rising out of the mist in the direction of the geothermal plant. They could see more people and golf carts in that direction.
Jax checked his watch. “It’s dinner time. If we’re lucky, we might have a short grace period.”
Grey jerked his head towards Detention. As soon as they were out of sight, Jax floored the gas, and a minute later he jerked to a stop in front of a bleak concrete structure facing the river, with gray steel doors spaced ten feet apart.
“God knows who they keep down here,” Jax muttered. “There’s probably political prisoners from World War II.”
The building extended about two hundred feet along the shore of the river. Grey counted twenty doors as he ran, and he checked each one. None were locked, half were empty, and the rest contained the same thing.
A human skeleton manacled to the wall.
“I guess I was right,” Jax muttered.
Grey slammed a fist against the final door. He dragged himself back to the golf cart, his legs feeling as heavy as the cement walls of the prison, then shook off his disappointment with a snarl. There was no time for self-pity.
“That way,” Grey said, pointing at the Cryonic Storage sign as they returned to the bridge.
“Really?”
“Just a glimpse. I wouldn’t put it past them.”
“You’re right about that. What if she isn’t even down here?”
“Just go.”
As always, motion-sensitive ceiling lights popped on and off as they sped through a tunnel that looked like permafrost reinforced with steel beams. A short ways in, they came to another steel door and had to insert the Level 4 access card again. Grey gave the corridor behind them a furtive glance as the door retracted smoothly into the ceiling.
On the other side, they heard the distant purr of a generator. The corridor extended as far as they could see between two walls and a high ceiling, all made of ice. Instead of bright fluorescent lights, an unseen light source lit the room with an eerie blue glow, enhancing the effect of the ice.
“Jesus H. Christ,” Jax said.
Grey looked to his left and saw, a few feet inside the ice, a man in a vintage Nazi uniform floating in some kind of gel within a transparent suspension tank. The sightless eyes of the soldier stared back at Grey, and the bluish-gray lips were wrapped around a black rubber tube that ran through the top of the tank and disappeared behind it, into the ice.
Grey glanced right and saw an identical sight. The steel door lowered behind them as Jax rolled slowly down the passage. Every five feet they saw a pair of cryogenically preserved soldiers on either side of the corridor, each attached to a rubber tube, on and on and on, a frozen terracotta army.
A hundred feet down the passage, they came to an intersection. An identical ice passage extended to the sides and straight ahead, all lined with preserved soldiers. Jax kept driving down the original passage. Every hundred feet they encountered a similar juncture.
“They must’ve built right into the glacier,” Jax said. “This is insane.”
Grey didn’t respond. He didn’t care how they did it, why they did it, when they did it. He was concerned with the living, not the dead. Or whatever these things were.
The long corridor ran into a T-intersection with another steel door. A sign above the keycard box read “Level 5 Access.”
“She’s not here,” Grey intoned. “Turn around.”
“Level Five?” Jax said. “What the hell is more secret than all this?” He started to reverse the golf cart, then paused. “You know there’s a dispute about Hitler’s death, right? The Russians never produced proof, and lots of people think the Mustache didn’t die in that bunker. That body doubles took his and Eva’s place.”
“Turn around,” Grey repeated.
“What if the Führer himself is in there? Waiting for some crazy doctor to revive him? Imagine what that knowledge could fetch on the black market?”
“What if trying a keycard without Level 5 access triggers an alarm and the door locks behind us?” Grey slammed his palm on the console. “Turn around.”
Jax stared at him. “All right, cuz. All right.” The mercenary spun the golf cart around and drove back through the ice tunnel, across the bridge that spanned the mysterious green river, and up the elevator. Back down the long hallway and into the main cavern by the front entrance, where they had first arrived.
Except for a pair of guards by the door, the compound sat eerily empty, a military devotion to mealtime. It made Grey even more nervous, because anyone they passed would question why they weren’t in a mess hall. The two guards by the door were already giving them suspicious glances.
“No way we have time for both,” Jax said, looking at the signpost. “As soon as meal time’s over, we’re gone.”
Grey chose Logistics & Control. Moments after they sped down the corridor, the long, low moan of a siren shattered the silence.
“Security breach,” a robotic voice announced. “Intruders are inside the complex.” The words repeated three times, in all three languages, followed by an admonition for all guards to return to their posts and secure the exits.
-43-
Viktor stared down at the bullet hole in Thato’s forehead. Naomi pulled her inside, slammed the door, and took her unmoving friend’s face in her hands. She checked for a pulse and let out a cry of anguish that ripped Viktor’s heart from his chest. He wrapped Naomi in his arms and tried to lift her to her feet, but she wrenched away.
The professor looked out the window and saw the dark blue sedan halfway down the long driveway, its lights on high beam. “It’s almost here!”
With a shudder, Naomi wiped her face with a sleeve. “Is there a place you can hide?” she said to Daniel. “They want Viktor and me, not you.”
“Tell that to Thato,” Daniel said grimly.
“Is there?!” she shouted.
“Yes. A secret closet in the bedroom.”
“Take Rose and go. Don’t call for help. After half an hour, if you don’t hear anyone inside the house, get Max and leave town. Stay low until you hear from me.”
Daniel nodded, and Viktor could sympathize with the unspoken question in his eyes.
What if I never hear from you?
The architect rushed off with Rose. Viktor followed Naomi as she sprinted through the back door to the guest cottage. She grabbed her keys, raced to the garage, and Viktor barely had time to shut the passenger door before the Land Cruiser reversed out of the parking space, thundered around the house, and rammed the sedan as it pulled up to the estate.
The big truck impacted the rear passenger side of the sedan, smashing the door and spinning the
smaller car around. With Viktor still dazed, Naomi grabbed her shotgun, leaned out the window and shot four times, shattering windows. The shotgun clicked empty and Naomi threw the gun in Viktor’s lap. “Do you know how to reload?”
“No idea!”
At first there was no movement in the sedan, which Viktor could now see was a Mercedes. His hopes rose, and then the car lurched forward. A hand holding a long-barreled pistol appeared in the window. Viktor ducked as two shots were fired, and Naomi took off again, racing past the sedan and ramping the edge of the driveway.
She barreled down the hill leading to the vineyards, bouncing over flowerbeds and through manicured hedges at forty miles an hour. Viktor hung on for dear life. He doubted the Land Cruiser had airbags, but even if it did, being trapped inside a rolled vehicle would do no good with a killer right behind.
The Mercedes careened down the hill behind them, though the lower vehicle had to avoid the hedges instead of plowing over them. Viktor tried to get a look at the driver, but it was too dark. He guessed it was Robey.
“Why didn’t you shoot his tires?” Viktor asked.
“Because I wanted to shoot him in the face.”
As she navigated the precipitous slope with one hand, Naomi reached under the seat, took out a box of ammunition, and reloaded the shotgun. Viktor was impressed.
The Mercedes was a hundred feet behind them, but once they hit a straightaway, the German car would overtake them. Naomi screeched to the right at the bottom of the hill, then floored it until she reached the first long row of vines. She turned left on a dirt road and accelerated alongside the vineyard. The space between the rows looked too narrow to drive through. A hundred yards down, just as lights swung onto the dirt road behind them, Naomi whipped into the vineyard between two rows spaced wider apart than the others.
Naomi killed her lights and kept driving. Fifty feet in, she stopped and killed the engine. Viktor understood. In the darkness, the narrow path was almost hidden from view, and she was hoping the other driver would fly right past it.
Viktor held his breath and turned to watch. A few seconds later, the Mercedes drove past without stopping. Naomi rolled forward without her lights. Just before they reached the end of the row, the Mercedes swung in behind them, caught them in its high beams, and accelerated.
Naomi roared out of the tractor path and onto a dirt field. She fish-tailed to the left, kicking up a cloud of dust. At the end of the field, pressing the small advantage they had gained, she continued on a dirt road that wove through a series of barns and then skirted a pond. The road wound back up the hillside on the rear of the property, heading towards the mountains.
“Where are we going?” Viktor asked.
“To see what that Mercedes can handle.”
Shots rang out. Naomi ordered Viktor to take the wheel while she leaned out the window and returned fire. Her hair had fallen loose, whipped into her face by the wind. As the Mercedes drew closer, the road narrowed and curved to the left, past a row of concrete block houses with new paint. The domestic workers’ quarters.
Naomi retook the wheel and kept going, climbing a steep grassy hill as the Land Rover tilted precariously to the left.
More shots from behind. One shattered the passenger-side mirror, causing Viktor to hunker down. He risked a glance through the rear view. “He’s gaining!”
“Hold on,” Naomi said grimly.
Rocks and unruly shrubs replaced the grass. Viktor’s teeth rattled as the Land Cruiser’s suspension moaned and creaked over the obstacles. The route didn’t seem to faze the Mercedes. It surged forward, coming ever closer.
“Take the gun!” Naomi said, putting the shotgun in Viktor’s lap. “Just put it on your shoulder and pull the trigger. Short-stroke it to reload. And don’t get shot.”
Viktor wondered why she had handed him the weapon about the same time he saw a flash of quicksilver caught by the Land Cruiser’s high beams. It was a river, a hundred feet wide and flowing swiftly over rocks down the hillside.
Before he could question the wisdom of Naomi’s plan, the Land Cruiser plunged into the shallow water, tires digging into the riverbed. Viktor leaned out the window and raised the shotgun, realizing the delay would bring the Mercedes perilously close.
The recoil was stronger than he expected, but Viktor was not a small man, and he had used firearms before. He got two shots off as the Mercedes approached, then ducked back inside when the driver returned fire.
Naomi was halfway across the stream when the Mercedes hit the water. A bullet thumped into the rear of the Land Cruiser as she steered around a boulder. The water deepened until the tires were lost from view, and then the Land Cruiser stopped moving.
The tires spun in vain. Viktor whipped around to look behind them.
“Shoot!” Naomi screamed. “Keep him in the car!”
Viktor obeyed as Naomi jerked the car into reverse. It moved a few inches.
The Mercedes drew closer.
Afraid of leaning too far out, Viktor fired another shell and shattered the windshield of the Mercedes. Robey’s gray face loomed behind it. He fired at Viktor, forcing the professor back inside.
The Land Cruiser’s tires spun and spun. Naomi jerked the wheel back and forth, switching between forward and reverse, trying to gain traction.
Robey stopped the car and opened the door, handgun raised.
“He’s coming!” Viktor yelled.
Robey took a step forward and fired, keeping Viktor at bay. He waded through the water towards Naomi’s side of the vehicle, and there was nothing to stop him.
Viktor took a wild shot. Robey hunched and kept walking. Twenty feet before he reached them, the tires finally caught, and the Land Cruiser lurched forward. Robey looked back and forth between the two vehicles, trying to decide what to do. He started splashing towards them, and when Viktor risked another shot, the shotgun clicked empty.
Robey must have heard the click because he started wading faster. Viktor cursed and fumbled with the shells. He dropped them on the floor and bent down. Robey fired and took out the side mirror.
As Viktor rose up, fearing what he would see, the Land Cruiser entered shallower water and finally picked up speed. Robey tried running through the water but the Land Cruiser drew further away and he was forced to return to the Mercedes. Once Robey resumed driving and reached the midway point, the same area that had bothered Naomi’s vehicle, the Mercedes stopped moving and settled into the river, up to the hood.
The Land Cruiser climbed onto the far shore and over a pile of rocks as the Mercedes sputtered and then died. A hundred yards past the river, Naomi pulled onto a dirt road that ran atop the hillside. It joined a paved road five minutes later. Not until they were twenty minutes into the mountains did Viktor dare take his eyes off the mirror.
Naomi rolled into a deserted lot behind a small office park. After escaping from Robey, they had driven through a mountain pass to reach the closest town.
When the Land Cruiser finally came to rest, Naomi gripped the wheel with both hands and stared straight ahead, into the night. Her hands started to shake, and a tear slipped from her eye.
“She was my best friend,” Naomi whispered. “She came to help me.”
Viktor laid a hand on her arm, providing silent support. Naomi stayed in that position for a long time.
“My parents,” she said finally, “my home, and Thato.”
Viktor’s jaw tightened.
Naomi checked the time on her cell. The Land Cruiser did not have a clock on the dashboard. “Nine p.m.,” she said, then grabbed the shotgun and a box of shells, as well as a pair of binoculars. She reached for the door. “We’d better get moving.”
“Without a car?”
“I’m going to hotwire that Corolla.”
“Where are we going?”
The blankness of Naomi’s face spoke to the volume of her rage. “Don’t you want to see the old water plant?”
“Oh,” Viktor said. “I see. Yes, I very much do.
”
An hour later, Professor Radek and Naomi lay on their stomachs atop a low hill that offered a view of the abandoned waste water treatment plant near van Draker’s manor.
Due to darkness, they couldn’t see very far inside the high wall and electric fencing surrounding the sprawling industrial ruins, but they could see the trio of late-model SUVs parked beside an imposing brick building near the main entrance, on the other side of an iron gate.
They could also see the flicker of a TV coming from a guard shack, as well as a pair of armed guards who, every twenty minutes or so, stepped out for a smoke.
It appeared, Viktor thought, that the water treatment plant wasn’t so abandoned after all.
-44-
As the siren continued to blare, Jax stomped on the brake at the next intersection.
“What are you doing?” Grey said.
“We might have a ghost of a chance if we get to the exit before it’s swarmed.”
Grey gripped his arm. “I’m not leaving.”
Jax jerked away. “Good for you.”
“Do what you have to, but we’re better off hiding out somewhere and trying to sneak out later.”
After a shake of his head, Jax cursed and slammed the console of the golf cart. From somewhere down the corridor, they heard shouting and the sound of speeding vehicles.
Grey scanned the signs in the five-way intersection.
COMMANDERS’ QUARTERS
WAR ROOM
COMMUNICATIONS
CONFERENCE AREA
SECURITY
A golf cart emerged from Security and sped towards the main entrance. Two more followed in rapid succession, all of them eyeing Grey and Jax but not stopping. The mercenary made a show of reversing the golf cart as they passed, as if getting ready to join them.
