Poe (32 page)

“In exchange for what?”

“For letting me free as soon as we’re out of here. For not turning me over to your employers.”

“Come on,” Alex said, and dug her fingers deeper into the woman’s arm, pulling her forward.

“What? You’re not even going to consider it?”

“I don’t need to consider it,” Alex said. “Before we’re out of this, you’re gonna tell me.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that.”

Alex gave her a jerk. “I don’t.”

* * *

T
HE ASSASSIN STOPPED
at the top of the second downward ramp. She had heard the two women’s voices on and off for several minutes, but had been too far away to understand what they were saying.

Now, the words were clear, if a bit distant. And the fact that they weren’t fading out told her that Powell and El-Hashim must have come to a stop. Perhaps if she were to go to the bottom of the ramp, she’d be able to see them.

Of course, they might see her as well, and she wasn’t yet ready for that.

She listened to their conversation and was surprised to find out Powell had tricked El-Hashim. While on one level this admission amused the assassin—even impressed her—she knew it was also a problem. Though Powell had not actually confirmed that anyone was waiting at the end of the tunnel, her non-denial was proof enough. The assassin would have no choice but to take care of the two women before they reached Powell’s friends.

And then there was the whole father thing that Powell had been whining about. What a sentimental fool. Obviously, she was one who allowed her emotions to dictate her actions. That wasn’t much of a surprise, considering the way she had conducted herself in the prison.

But who her father was, and, for that matter, who
Powell
actually was, made no real difference to the assassin. The only thing important about the revelation was that it appeared the women’s reluctant partnership was quickly deteriorating.

The assassin waited until their voices grew distant, indicating they were walking again, before she made her way down the ramp.

The water that covered the floor was cool, but not uncomfortable, and walking silently through it was not a problem. She had been trained to function in a multitude of environmental situations, and before long, she closed the distance between them, until she could see their silhouettes backlit by Powell’s flashlight.

After a few minutes, the two women stopped again, and in the beam of their flashlight, the assassin saw the beginnings of what looked like an intersecting tunnel. Powell looked down at something in her hand, then pointed to the left and headed that way, pulling El-Hashim along with her.

The moment they were out of sight, the assassin increased her speed. When the tunnel straightened out again, she was only twenty feet behind them.

She felt a sudden rush, wanting very much to savor the moment. But she knew that all good things must come to an end.

It was time.

Cooper was almost
to the abandoned building when his earpiece came alive with Deuce’s hushed voice.

“You there yet?”

“Just about,” Cooper said. “Anything new?”

“Two jeep patrols have started circling the perimeter.”

UAZs, Cooper knew—the Russian equivalent of the Jeep. “Terrific. Inside or outside the fence?”

“Inside.”

That was good. The rendezvous building was right outside the prison’s double fence, so unless the patrols actually headed out the gate, they weren’t an immediate threat.

“Let me know if that changes,” he said.

There was silence for a moment, then, “You see any sign of Alex?”

“Not yet.”

When he reached the building, Cooper looked around, trying to figure out exactly where Alex would be coming from. There was no obvious route to the outside that wouldn’t require them to run over hundreds of yards of open space before they reached the ravine.

Not exactly a stealthy way to escape.

And then, of course, there were the two fences. How would they get over those?

Again wishing that Alex had given them more details, Cooper studied his surroundings, and it suddenly struck him that maybe there was no need to get over the fences.

Why not go
under
them?

That had to be it, right? A tunnel. Maybe one that led directly from the prison to the building?

All other possibilities would come with an almost zero chance of working.

So if there was a tunnel, where would it come out?

Inside the building?

Wishing he could block out the sound of the siren, Cooper removed a flashlight from the bag on his back, then found an opening in the side of the building that had once had a door, and made his way inside. He spent the next several minutes exploring, and discovered that the interior of the building was little more than a collection of crumbling walls.

He moved room to room, finding nothing here that would support his theory. Until, that was, he stumbled across an enclosed space no bigger than a supply closet, its badly dilapidated door barely clinging to its hinges.

Unless he was wrong, most supply closets didn’t have a manhole in the center.

So was this it? Given the complete lack of other candidates, it seemed a pretty good fit.

Cooper stood there, studying the manhole. If he was right about this, it might be wise to get the cover off so that Alex and El-Hashim could crawl out quickly and save precious time. But the task would take more than a simple grab and pull. He needed something to assist him, a crowbar or a piece of pipe that he could stick into one of the holes atop the cover and pry it off.

There was nothing in the immediate area, but two rooms over he found a three-foot section of rusted rebar lying atop a pile of rubble. It wasn’t quite as long as he would have liked, but he thought it might work.

He returned to the room, and slotted the tip through one of the holes. As he pushed on the rod, he was afraid it was going to bend before the lid canted up. It did, but only a small amount, and he was able to lift the edge of the cover just high enough to twist it so that it was sitting partially out of the hole. A couple of intense shoves later, the opening was cleared.

Cooper shone his flashlight into the hole. On the left was a wall with a built-in ladder of metal hoops leading up to the opening. To the right was a tunnel, its floor about ten feet below.

Cooper leaned through the opening and cupped his free hand at the side of his mouth. “Alex? Are you there? It’s Cooper.”

Nothing.

“Alex?”

Still dead quiet.

He pulled back up and thought for a moment, then swung his legs around, and lowered himself down the ladder.

In the chaos
surrounding the discovery of not only a dead nurse, but three missing inmates and a doctor, it took an extra seven minutes before someone had the wherewithal to send a guard to check the floors that the supply elevator serviced.

The guard’s initial stop was naturally the first floor, where he wasted an additional four minutes determining there was no sign of anyone recently exiting the cramped elevator there. He lost even more time in the basement, where the elevator was housed in a rarely used section of the building that he had no idea how to get into. A full six minutes passed before he located someone with the correct key and unlocked the right door.

The guard navigated a dusty corridor, stepped through an open doorway, and saw that the elevator car was indeed there, but the room itself was empty.

He radioed the information in, and was told to report back to the main floor where a room-by-room search was underway. He was so focused on joining the search upstairs as he headed back the way he came, he didn’t notice the dark door to his left that was slightly ajar.

A door that, when opened, was prone to an initial, loud squeak.

As they continued
down the tunnel, Alex tried to figure out how to get El-Hashim to talk, short of beating the crap out of her. As much as she would have liked to give in to her more primal nature, Alex knew El-Hashim was having a hard enough time navigating the tunnels without the complication of black eyes and a broken rib or two. Besides, she wasn’t keen on beating up the defenseless, no matter how repugnant they were.

She needed an alternate strategy. Something along the lines of…

…fear.

Ahead, another fork in the tunnel appeared. She studied the map for a moment, and pointed toward the left passageway, which, according to Teterya’s map, was a false tunnel.

“This way,” she said.

The plan she’d thought up was simple. When they reached the dead end, Alex would leave El-Hashim there with a quick word and the sound of retreating footsteps. Left alone with no map, no light, and the potential of being lost in the labyrinth for God knew how long, the poor woman would realize the advantages of cooperation.

Would it be enough to get her to open up?

It was worth a try.

There was a sharp bend to the tunnel for the first several yards, before it eased into a relatively straighter path. Alex thought she could just make out the dead end at the far reach of her flashlight beam.

Just a little closer now.

She was going over what she’d say, trying to get the words exactly right, when she heard a low noise behind her and started to turn. Her head had only moved a couple inches when something smacked into the side of her skull.

At first there was no pain, only confusion, as she staggered to the left, the flashlight slipping from her hand. Then the whole side of her head began to scream.

She put a hand over the spot and felt something sticky and wet. Blood, she realized. How…?

Something grabbed her shoulder and twisted her around. She could see the outline of a person only a couple feet away, but whether it was the darkness or blurred vision, she couldn’t make out any details.

She could, however, see a hand flashing toward her face. She ducked, not in time to completely clear the blow, but enough that it glanced off the top of her skull.

Without missing a beat, she swung out with her left as her training with Emerick kicked in, and followed with an upper cut from her blood-covered right.

Both blows found their targets.

There was a yell, loud and angry—definitely not El-Hashim.

Alex stepped backward, knowing her attacker was about to make another assault. The move would have been a good one if not for the slippery stone that her foot first found, then quickly lost.

Alex twisted sideways as she tried to keep her balance, but there was no way to avoid the fall. She hit the wet ground with an
oomph
, but before she could even move, a foot connected with her gut. A second later she heard splashes of someone running away.

Alex fought through the pain and pushed herself to her feet. She looked around for the light of her flashlight, but all she could see was dark.

Had the water shorted it?

“El-Hashim,” she said. “Where are you?”

No response. The only thing she could hear now was her own breathing. She was completely alone without a light.

The steps had gone
…
that way
.

Her head throbbing, she turned to her right. She could still hear the steps faintly in the distance. She moved within arm’s length of the wall so she could touch it with her fingertips, and began to run.

* * *

T
HE ASSASSIN KNEW
her target wouldn’t get far.

It wasn’t a complete surprise to her when El-Hashim snatched up Powell’s flashlight and made a run for it. The woman was no idiot, and saving her own skin would be the only thing that mattered to her.

But running wouldn’t do her much good. Hers was a world of clandestine meetings and backroom deals, not fleeing for her life from someone whose sole purpose—for the moment, at least—was to take it.

Unfortunately, the assassin hadn’t had time to completely finish off Powell before El-Hashim took off. After choosing to neutralize whom she considered the more dangerous of the two, she was now paying the price by having to abandon the job halfway through.

A gun would have been nice, but, sadly, prisoners don’t get to have firearms.

She’d been right about Powell. The woman definitely had had some training. The sting along the assassin’s rib cage was proof enough of that. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had been able to lay a hand on her.

As she ran through the tunnel, she didn’t bother masking the beam from her own flashlight. El-Hashim already knew she was coming.

She could hear the woman ahead of her, both the splashes of her feet and the desperation of her breath.

A few seconds later, there was a gasp, then the rate of the splashes increased, and she knew that El-Hashim must have looked back and seen the light reflecting off the curved tunnel walls.

The assassin had a brief moment of surprise when the tunnel straightened again. She had expected to see El-Hashim’s light, but the passageway ahead was completely dark.

She could still hear the footsteps, however, and the breathing—off to her left.

A dozen feet farther on, she figured out what had happened. El-Hashim had reached the fork in the tunnels and had taken the correct one this time.

Sure enough, when the assassin took the turn, the other light came into view less than fifteen yards ahead.

The assassin picked up her speed.

Time to finish this.

* * *

A
LEX SAW A
brief flash of light reflecting off the tunnel wall, then it was gone.

As she ran, she tried to figure out who her attacker had been.

If it had been a guard, the person would have been armed, and a quick gunshot would have taken care of things. But there had been none. The attacker was a woman, she knew that much. The yell had confirmed that. But the brutality of the attack suggested it wasn’t just any woman.

The assassin. It had to be.