Authors: Connie Suttle
I hoped the door we ran toward would hold them back for a few
minutes; it was nearly a foot thick and surrounded by concrete. The problem? It
wasn't meant to hold off a direct attack—it was meant to keep government
officials safe in a bombing crisis.
We raced through it, and August and one of the PM's bodyguards
manned the spokes of the locking mechanism, turning them as quickly as they
could.
"Go on," August snapped while he and the guard
worked. "We'll catch up."
I took off again, while Rafe and the others followed. They
probably weren't going to like what lay ahead of us, but it might give our
pursuers pause and I hoped they'd think we'd gone another way.
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.