by S J Grey
“On our way. Jonathan out.”
Now Caleb needed to let Emma know he was bailing on her.
She frowned when he returned to the table. “You were ages. Are you okay?”
He had to lean over her and speak into her ear—the entertainment was so loud. “Yeah, but I need to go. Sorry.”
“That’s a shame. This is great fun to watch.” She grabbed his sleeve. “Be careful.”
He nodded and headed outside. A few minutes later, his team emerged from the club, and he went to meet them.
Caleb explained about the too-small basement underneath the restaurant and the rumours of female voices coming from behind the brick wall. “I think that’s the brothel, on the other side of the wall, using the rest of the space underneath the restaurant.”
Jonathan thought about it. “If you’re right—and it sounds plausible—where’s the entrance? There has to be another way in.”
“I know, right? And why did the girl call it a bunker? That was odd.”
“Not necessarily,” said Nat. “There’s a nuclear bunker underneath the Beehive. They use it as a command centre, in the event of a major incident. There’s also a tunnel underneath Bowen Street, to gain access. Is it possible there’s a similar setup here?”
“A nuclear bunker? In New Zealand? Who’s going to nuke us?” Caleb felt stupid asking it.
“Back in the late sixties, it was the thing to do.” Nat shrugged. “Civil Defence built a few.”
“Ask them,” said Jonathan. “Dig up a contact and see what you can find out.”
“I bet it’s in the visa office,” said Caleb. “That’s where the entrance is. Some perverted private club is lurking behind that scruffy exterior.”
Andi spoke up. “I’m going to check out the back of the building. See if there’s a ground-level window.” She glanced at Griff. “You coming?”
They all went. It was easier to stick together. The office backed onto the same street that had the skip, and like at the front, it was tired and rundown. There was no visible door, but they saw a semi-submerged window at ground level. Easy to overlook in the dark.
Andi crouched and shone her phone flashlight through the dirty glass. “I can’t tell what’s down there. I need to go inside.”
“Hang on,” said Griff, but she was kicking the latch.
The window popped open, and Andi peered through it again. “It’s a bathroom. This is it, guys. We found her.”
“No,” said Griff. “We may have found where she was held. That doesn’t mean she’s still here.”
“But she might be.” Andi scrambled to her feet and went nose to nose with her boyfriend. “And might is a damn sight better than no hope at all.”
Nat was on the phone a few steps away, with the rest of the team clustered around him.
“For fuck’s sake, Andi,” said Griff, his voice a growl. “You can’t do that.”
“Watch me. Kaali came out, so I can go in.”
Griff made a grab for her arm, but she was too fast. A moment later, she sat on the wet pavement and shoved her legs into the opening. She wriggled and disappeared into the blackness beneath them.
There was a bumping noise, a muffled ouch, and then torchlight flashed.
Caleb didn’t know whether he was impressed or annoyed with her.
Griff was majorly pissed; that was clear. “This is breaking and entering,” he said. “She’s going to get into trouble.”
Caleb ignored him and hunkered down. “What can you see?”
“Coming out,” said Andi. Her head and shoulders appeared, and Caleb helped tug her past the window. “Thanks,” she said.
“Did you go in?” Jonathan joined them, and he didn’t look happy either.
“Just a quick reccy. It’s a scuzzy bathroom that doesn’t look as though it’s been cleaned in twenty years. Ugh. And the exit is locked from the other side. This is it. I’m telling you.”
“It most likely is,” said Nat. “Civil Defence confirmed there was a bunker underneath Browning Street. Back in the day, there would have been access points from a couple of locations nearby. They thought it had been blocked off but were fuzzy on the details.”
Andi looked at Jonathan. “Does that give us enough information to get a search warrant?”
“Not really. We need something more concrete. I know your primary concern is to rescue Kaali, but if we can take down the whole operation at the same time, it might be worth waiting.”
“Waiting?” Andi’s voice rose. “Waiting? You didn’t see her. See what they did to her. We can’t wait.”
“I don’t mean for long,” he replied. “Just a day or so. Enough time to—”
“You’re kidding me.”
“I wish I were. I’m sorry.”
Caleb had no desire to step even slightly over the lines of legality, with his parole to consider, but there might be another way to tackle this. Like Andi, he didn’t want to wait. “It sticks in my throat to say this, but what if we call the cops? We tell them a woman was heard crying and screaming on the other side of the wall. We’re concerned citizens.”
“They might refuse us entry without a warrant.”
“What if the cops thought there were drugs in there? A stash of meth, maybe?” Caleb asked.
Jonathan smiled briefly. “I’ll give DS Miller a call. Gotta be worth a try.”
“And I have pictures,” said Caleb, remembering his phone. “Guys, going in the building. They might look like dealers, right?”
They hung around, while Jonathan tracked down DS Miller at the Central Police Station, a short distance away.
“We’re lucky,” said Jonathan. “He’s in town and on duty. He’s on his way with a uniformed officer as backup. We’ll meet them out front.”
A few minutes later, an unmarked car parked nearby and out climbed the cops.
Caleb hung back. Call him paranoid, but the less he said, the less they could pin on him.
Jonathan had other ideas. “Caleb was undertaking some surveillance earlier from the restaurant opposite, and he took pictures of some of the arrivals. We believe there’s a strong possibility they’re storing meth in the tunnel under the street. I’m in the process of getting a warrant, but there have been reports of a woman screaming. We’ve got enough for you to ask about the noise and request to take a look in the tunnel.”
“Pictures, please.” Miller held out his hand.
With a great deal of mistrust, Caleb unlocked his phone and displayed the images of the men he saw going into the visa office.
Miller gave them a cursory glance and handed the phone back. “There is a resemblance to several men we want to question about another matter.” He huffed a breath. “I could say the same about half of Wellington,” he continued softly, “but it’s enough for me. I’ll assemble a team.”
Caleb lurked nearby while Jonathan and the other agents conferred with the cops. The back of his neck prickled with awareness. This situation felt wrong. At least they were trying something, no matter how small it was. He pulled out the earpiece and stuffed it in his pocket. His team wouldn’t need them now. They’d done all they could.
Nat came to stand beside him. “Jonathan’s going in with them. I gave them the name of the supposed proprietor, and they’re going to say they want to interview him. It’s the best they can do on the fly.”
Caleb stared at the restaurant across the road. “I guess. You said there might be several access points? Can you find out where the others would be?”
“Sure.” Nat tugged his phone from a pocket and dialled a number. He angled himself away from Caleb and spoke into his phone. A moment later, he turned back. “They’re going to pull up their maps of the area and take a look. It was a good idea.”
“Rush.”
Caleb looked over his shoulder, to see Griff storming towards him. He sighed. What now? Andi’s boyfriend had a major chip on his shoulder when it came to Caleb. “What’s up?” he asked.
“Andi’s gone back insi
de. Said the cops were taking too long.”
“She said the door was locked.”
“Yeah, but she picked the lock. She’s got mad lock-picking skills. She’ll update you over the comm link. And Rush, if anything happens to her, it’s your fault.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Andi picked the lock?” Caleb repeated the words. “Why?”
“I told you. She didn’t think it was happening fast enough.” If Griff looked pissed earlier, he now looked ready to explode.
Caleb fitted his earpiece again and tapped the comm. “Caleb to Andi. Where are you?”
Silence. She might be trying to stay quiet, of course. He spoke again. “Andi, you shouldn’t be in there. The cops are going in any minute. Come out.”
Silence.
“Did she say anything?” Griff asked.
“No. But she might be trying to avoid attention. All I can do is keep her updated and make sure Jonathan knows. We don’t want her arrested by mistake.”
“Man.” Griff put his arms on his head and stomped back and forth. “If I had a grey hair for every time she’s pulled a stunt like this… I’d be as silver as George fuckin’ Clooney. God damn.”
“Caleb to Jonathan. Andi’s in the building. She broke through the bathroom door, and she’s not responding. I’ll let you know if she comes out.”
“Roger that,” said Jonathan. “We’re assembling now. Any word from Nat on the other potential access points?”
“Negative,” replied Nat. “Working on it.”
There was nothing Caleb could do at the front of the building, so he stayed at the back with Griff. Together, they watched the darkened bathroom, waiting for Andi to emerge or a light to shine. Or a sound. Caleb checked the time. Emma would still be in the restaurant and with a bird’s eye view of the police raid. She’d keep well away.
Just in case she was tempted to go outside to take a look, he sent her a text.
Caleb: Hey. You still in Apollo’s?
She didn’t reply for a couple of minutes.
Emma: Yes. You coming back? The foods just arrived and OMG it’s divine. Should I save you some?
She was still there. Good.
Caleb: No. There’s going to be some activity outside. I need you to stay where you are and not get involved. Promise me?
She sent a cross-faced emoji.
Emma: Okay. Spoilsport. What kind of activity?
God. She’d be the death of him.
Caleb: Police stuff. Please stay where you are until it’s over. Okay?
There was a pause. Three dancing dots appeared, then vanished, then reappeared. He could imagine her typing a reply, erasing it, and having another go.
Emma: YOU have to promise to tell me all later. Okay. OKAY?
Caleb: Promise. Gotta go.
Another text flashed in from her.
Emma: Be careful.
And another.
Emma: STAY SAFE
When it looked as though she’d finished, he put his phone away.
Ten minutes crawled by. There was no change in the basement bathroom. Griff was doing a very good impression of someone trying not to freak out.
Then there was a faint bumping sound. Like a door banging.
Caleb and Griff stared at each other. Caleb tried the comm again. “Andi? We heard a noise. Let us know you’re okay. Make a click if you can’t talk. One click for okay, two clicks for not.” There were probably strict protocols for this type of thing, but Caleb was making it up as he went along. He listened hard, but there was nothing. Could her comm have malfunctioned? Or be switched off? Out of range? Unlikely. His worked from the restaurant to the nightclub. Was it being jammed or was there something blocking it?
“Hang on,” he said to Griff. “I need to talk to Nat.” It was easiest to jog around the corner, to where Nat stood with the others.
“Hey,” said Caleb. “If this was designed as a nuclear bunker, it’d have thick concrete walls, right?”
Nat nodded. “Yeah.”
“And there’d have to be conduits for wires and cables and shit, right?”
Nat nodded again.
“So is it possible that would disrupt the comm signal? I can’t raise Andi,” Caleb said.
Nat glanced at Will. “What do you reckon?”
“It’s unlikely, but not impossible,” said Will. “We use a digital radio, same as the police, but we’ve no clue what’s down there.”
Jonathan joined them. “Miller’s backup is two minutes away. He managed to round up ten officers, and it’s going to get busy out here. Any sign of Andi yet?”
Caleb shook his head. “Nothing. Griff’s one step away from losing his shit. It’s only because he won’t fit through the window that he hasn’t followed her.”
Jonathan twisted his mouth. “I hope she’s not in trouble. I’ll tell Miller, and he’ll update his squad.”
Blue lights flashed in the distance, and Caleb turned to look. A formation of police cars and vans cruised down the street.
“Andi,” said Caleb into his comm. “It’s about to get noisy. Get out if you can. Repeat. Get out if you can.”
Griff was right; Andi was Caleb’s responsibility. He’d recruited her for the Red Team. If he hadn’t, she wouldn’t be here now.
“Okay,” said Jonathan. “I’m on. Keep your comms live, and if you get any update on the access points, let me know.” He hastened back to where Miller stood. Up to now, the cops were assembling out of sight from the visa office, with no sirens.
That changed.
The vehicles moved forward, to outside the visa office. Sirens blared, and strobes flashed. Miller walked up and banged on the door, a cluster of uniformed officers gathering on his heels. “Police. Open up.”
Nothing happened.
Would they give up if the door didn’t open?
Hell no. An officer moved forward with a sturdy piece of equipment and broke the door down. It crumbled. The cops swarmed in.
Someone had a loudhailer and repeated, “Police. Stay where you are.”
It was freaky to watch from a safe distance. Having been on the receiving end of a police raid when they arrested him for the death of his stepfather, tonight’s events brought all those ugly memories to the surface.
Nope. He had to focus on the now.
Caleb’s earpiece crackled. “This is Jonathan. The building appears to be empty. We’re searching for the basement entrance now. Nat, find me that other exit.”
“On it,” said Nat, already on his phone.
“What’s going on?” Griff asked through gritted teeth.
Of course. He didn’t share the comms. “There’s nobody in there,” Caleb told him. “They haven’t found the basement access yet, assuming there is one.” There had to be. He watched people go in there in the last hour. They didn’t have a freaking teleport device.
His earpiece gave a shrill whistle, and he was about to tug it out, when another voice came over the link.
“This is Andi.” She was faint, her signal breaking up.
“This is Caleb. Where are you, Andi?”
Griff grabbed his arm and stared at him.
“Stop them from going in,” she said. “Repeat. Stay out of the building. Over.”
What? “They’re already in there. What happened?”
There was another feedback-like squeal. Andi’s voice faded in like an old radio show. “Going to blow.”
“What? What’s going to blow?”
“Explosives in the tunnel. Get them out. Now.”
—the fuck? Caleb stared at Griff. Even as he opened his mouth to relay a warning, Jonathan replied over the comm, his voice as crackly as Andi’s.
“This is Jonathan. Did you say explosives? Please repeat. Over.”
“Yes,” said Caleb, loud. “Get everyone out. Over.”
“This is Jonathan. Please repeat. You’re breaking up.”
Something had to be jamming their comms.
“Andi says the tunnel is wi
red with explosives. We have to get the cops out,” Caleb said.
“What about Andi?” Griff dug his fingers into Caleb’s arm. “Where is she?”
“Don’t know.” Caleb shook him free and sprinted to the front of the building, Griff on his heels.
They barged past two uniformed officers on the doorstep, who made a grab at Caleb.
He dodged them. “Get your team out,” he shouted. “There’s explosives under the building. Get them all out.”
Behind him, a cop spoke urgently into his radio, while Caleb stomped over the broken pieces of door. “Jonathan,” he shouted. “Get everyone out.”
Griff ran past, into a long hallway. “Andi,” he yelled. “Andi.”
“The radios aren’t working,” said one of the cops. He grabbed the loudhailer. “Evacuate. Evacuate. Right now.”
The squawking voice echoed around the hallway. Where was Jonathan? And the cops?
Footsteps thundered down a flight of stairs. DS Miller with a uniformed officer. “What the hell’s going on?” Miller asked.
“Get everyone out,” repeated Caleb. “Andi says there’s explosives. Jonathan said there’s nobody here, which means they’ve already left. It’s a trap.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Cops shouted. The loudhailer shrieked. Sirens continued to wail outside.
Caleb cupped his hand over the earpiece and tried to listen. Tried to contact his people. “Jonathan, report,” he said. “Andi, come in. Where are you?”
The hallway was filled with people, both cops and Jonathan’s agents. Will, Nat, and Toby searched too. Where was the access to the basement? It had to be visible if people used it all the time. Was Jonathan down there?
“Found it,” yelled Griff. “Disguised as a closet. There are stairs behind it.”
Stairs. Caleb followed.
DS Miller stood in his way. “Where are you going, Rush? You’re supposed to be leaving.”
“My friends are in here. I need to find them. Our comms aren’t working. I need to find them,” he repeated. He wasn’t going to let Miller stop him.
The detective nodded. “Our radios are fucked, too. Come on.”
They hurried into the supposed-closet. A concealed door hung open, the sound of footsteps clattering ahead of them.
