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Authors: Carolyn McCray

BOOK: Covert
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“Vakasa wants to show you the way up to a ventilation shaft. You can come in from behind the guards.”

Ventilation shaft? This was the first any of them had heard of another entrance nearby. “Your daughter knows the way?”

“She is not my daughter. I am only her guardian., But yes, she explores all around the area. I trust she knows the way.”

Brandt did not like using a child, but if she truly knew a back door into the mine, he had to take it. The woman wasn’t wrong. Even now, with the chaos in the village, the guards were standing strong at the entrance. They were not being luring into the skirmish. Which did pretty much mean it was a suicide mission, and he had a wedding to get to.

“Lead the way,” Brandt whispered, nodding for Levont to follow the child up and into the jungle.

* * *

Davidson watched through his scope as Brandt and the rest of the team climbed higher into the mountain. Something had changed, and they had gained two more people. Finally, the figures disappeared into the jungle. He had to rely on heat signatures to tell him where they were going.

With the team safely, for the moment, tucked away on the mountainside, Davidson turned his attention to the mess that was the French rescue operation. The “rescuers” were pinned at the north end of the village. They hadn’t even gotten close to where their teammate was being held.

And Davidson would know, since he had scoped out the small hut the soldier was being held. He swung his rifle around to spy though the cutout window to find one of the captors getting ready to shoot the soldier.

He was under orders not to pull the trigger, possibly revealing his nest, until Brandt gave the signal that they were leaving. However, Davidson couldn’t allow another special forces man to be shot in cold blood. He felt certain Brandt would agree. Plus, with the raging firefight, who was really going to notice a stray shot?

Lining up the crosshairs, Davidson fired. The captor fell face down in the dirt. The captured soldier looked up, expecting his teammates to come through the door. While Davidson couldn’t make that happen, he could help the guy out. Taking another carefully aligned shot, Davidson shot through the chain binding the soldier to the post. Rubbing his wrists, the soldier looked out through the window and nodded his thanks.

Davidson turned his attention back to his team. Brandt and the rest were still hiking upward to an unknown location. Davidson hoped they hurried. The firefight, and the diversion it caused, was dying down rapidly. Especially once the French soldier rejoined his team, they would melt back into the jungle, leaving all eyes on the mine.

Once that happened, any shot Davidson took
would
be noticed. He could only hope that the little dot leading Brandt knew what they were doing.

* * *

“They‘re on their way,” the guide said, his gun hand shaking. This was not a Disciple. This was simply a greedy young man in way over his head.

“The Disciples, the people who hired you, aren’t going to pay you,” Rebecca explained.

“They are going to kill you,” Bunny finished.

Rebecca had been trying to work up to that, but it was true.

“No, they already transferred two hundred thousand into my account as a deposit.”

“Which you won’t be able to spend, once they dispatch you,” Rebecca explained. “Do you think they are going to leave any witnesses to our kidnapping?”

The man had no idea who he was dealing with. He hadn’t been hounded across several continents by the religious fanatics.

“Even with a special forces team,” Bunny stated, “we barely made it out alive.”

“You normally travel with a special forces team?” the tour leader asked.

“Yeah,” Bunny answered. “
Duh
.”

And they sure could use them right about now. But Brandt had been in jungle camouflage and had said that he was going to get a good night’s rest on the plane, so he was more than likely an entire ocean away. It was just her, Bunny, and the owner of the tour company. Against a man with a gun and a cadre of Disciples on the way. Not great odds.

Their only advantage? The guide looked scared out of his mind. “They just want to talk to you,” the man said.

“Who pays fifteen thousand to ‘talk’?” Bunny demanded. “They mean to kill you and
torture
us.”

Again, the redhead wasn’t wrong, but Rebecca was trying to calm the guy down so she could reason with him and Bunny wasn’t helping.

“Let us go, and we won’t turn you in.”

“Speak for yourself,” the tour leader grumbled.

And Brandt would probably hunt the guy down and let him know exactly how displeased he was with the man who had held a gun to his fiancée, but the guide didn’t need to know that.

“Just put the gun down, Erik,” Rebecca urged. “We can talk this through.”

“I can’t,” the guide insisted.

“Erik,” the tour leader barked. “You have to.”

“And what?” the guide asked. “Go back to minimum wage wrangling of snooty Europeans and pushy Americans? I need the money. I
want
the money.”

The younger guide’s feet took on a stronger stance as he raised the gun higher, his decision made.

“I can’t let you,” the tour leader said before he sprang forward and grabbed the guide.

The gun went off in the struggle. The tour leader grabbed his belly as blood gushed between his fingers. Bunny used the moment to put an elbow to the guide’s nose, then snatch the gun away. Guess Brandt’s hand-to-hand training came in handy.

Rebecca dropped to her knees beside the tour leader. “Why did you do that?”

“Just trying to protect the women,” the man choked out then spit up blood. “Like your special forces buddies.”

The only difference with that was that Brandt would have pulled it off. His act was definitely one that should not be tried at home.

Erik dropped to his knees next to his boss. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean…”

The bright red blood on the ice didn’t care what the guide meant to do or didn’t mean to do. Rebecca kept pressure on the belly wound the best she could.

“I think I hear footsteps,” Bunny warned from the mouth of the chamber. A bullet whizzed past her head, digging deep into the ice behind her. “They are
here
.”

“Erik, help me get him on his feet,” Rebecca said.

“There’s a small tunnel in the back,” Bunny added, leaving the mouth and hurrying across the cave.

The guide tried to help, but the tour leader shook his head. “I can’t.” Rebecca tried to argue, but the man gripped her arm. “You know that I can’t.”

Rebecca had seen enough wounds to know when one was fatal. By the man’s ashen, gray features, he was not going to recover—and, in fact he would slow them down.

“Give me the gun,” the tour leader said. “I will hold them off for as long as possible.”

Rebecca would have liked to have argued, but she knew this was the only way. “Bunny.”

The redhead handed over the gun. “We’ve got to hurry.”

To Rebecca’s surprise, Erik didn’t get up to leave.

“Bunny isn’t exaggerating,” Rebecca urged.

“I’m staying here too,” Erik said. “I started this mess. Let me help fix it.”

There was no fixing anything.

“That is straight-up suicide,” Bunny added. “Once he starts shooting, the Disciples won’t stop.”

“I know,” the guide said. “All’s we can do is buy you time.”

Again, Rebecca would have loved to argue, but the only slight chance they had to escape was to haul ass
now
. “Thank you,” she said, squeezing the tour guide’s hand. “Thank you both.”

“Rebecca,” Bunny urged from the back of the cave.

As another bullet zinged into the cave, chipping the ice, Rebecca got up and did what she did best.

Run.

* * *

Brandt squeezed his shoulders through the narrow opening as dirt, soot, and mud caked into his skin. The ventilation shaft had been crudely dug into the mountainside, and was
not
rappelling-friendly.

Levont, who had come down before him, wiped off his sleeves. as well. The tunnel may have been a tight fit, however it did the trick. They were deep into the mine, behind the guards at the mouth.

His feet landed on a large crate branded with a Nazi swastika. The uranium was underfoot, all packaged and ready to go to the highest bidder. Lopez waved his radation dosimeter over the crates and the needle moved into the mid-range.

“We’re good for a while. Just don’t bathe in it,” the corporal joked.

Then Levont pointed up as Vakasa shimmied down the rope. Her guardian followed close behind.

“I told you to keep her up there,” Brandt reprimanded the woman. The last thing he needed was civilians mucking up a perfectly good military operation.

“She wouldn’t stay behind,” the woman said. “And I won’t leave her.”

While Brandt would have loved to carry the little girl right back up that rope, he simply did have the time. They needed to make the most of the commotion out front.

“Levont, plant the C-4,” Brandt whispered harshly. He turned to Lopez. “As soon as he’s done, we are evacuating, and if you have to hog–tie the girl to get her topside, I’m okay with that.” –

Brandt meant to give Vakasa a scathing glare, but with her bright smile, it was hard to be mad at her. Then the earth shook underfoot. The area had been seismically active for the past few weeks. Just another wrench thrown into the works on this mission.

A shout went up from outside the cave. Guards were diving out of the way. Brandt didn’t need to know Swahili to know they were yelling “Incoming.” That high-pitched scream was pretty much universal.

Brandt threw himself over Vakasa as the RPG flew overhead, flying down the mine shaft until it hit the back wall. His ears threatened to rupture as the explosion rocked the mountain. The ceiling overhead cracked and fell in huge chunks all around them.

The guards rushed in to probably check if their uranium was still intact—which meant they were about to discover his team. Levont shot, taking down the first guard. Two others fell in quick succession as Lopez added his gun to the mix.

Brandt shoved up, getting ready to fire, when Vakasa grabbed his gun, holding it down. The girl’s interference was getting a bit annoying. Jerking the weapon away, Brandt turned to find the guards retreating in confusion. They clearly hadn’t expected to find the enemy
behind
them.

Then they came to their senses. Behind or in front, the enemy had to be eliminated. Bullets flew overhead. Brandt scrambled to pull Vakasa behind the large crate. The cover was solid—however, he wasn’t so sure it was so great to have uranium aerosolized.

“Lopez?”

“Not ideal, boss,” the corporal answered. “But a whole hell of a lot better than a second RPG in here. I don’t think the roof could take it.”

Brandt looked at the huge pile of rubble littering the floor, then up to the ceiling , which seemed to be held together by two large arches. If those came down, the entire mountainside would come down with them.

It was up to Davidson to make sure that a second RPG didn’t end their night rather abruptly.

* * *

Davidson scanned the forest for signs of the team that had let off the RPG. It appeared to have come in the direction of the British team. A glint of silver caught his attention. Honing in on the figures between the leaves, Davidson found the Brits loading another RPG.

He took his shot carefully, knocking the grenade launcher from the man’s hands. All guns went up, scanning for him, assuming he must be one of the chieftain’s men.

Well, Davidson seriously doubted if the chieftain’s men would do this.

After a few more well-placed bullets, Davidson pulled up his rifle. He’d just shot the Morse code message for “Back off: into the tree next to the commanding officer. If the Brits didn’t get the message after that, he would have to take more aggressive action.

Luckily, the Brits looked like they knew their Morse code pretty well, and they lowered the RPG launcher to the ground.

Davidson swiveled and trained his scope on the mouth of the cave.

It was unmitigated chaos down there as the women and children ran from the site. The guards were too busy running from the bullets spitting from the cave to stop them. Further down the tunnel, it looked like there had been a partial cave-in.

Once the men and civilians had gone down the shaft, Davidson had lost their heat signatures. Obviously, some of them had survived the attack. But who, and for how long, he didn’t know.

Digging in deeper to his nest, Davidson did the only thing he could.

Wait. With his finger on the trigger.

* * *

Rebecca slipped,
again
, and hit her head against the wall, which was cool to the touch, but not icy. Her hand ran along the smooth surface, realizing it was volcanic glass. They had left the glacier, and were now deep within the mountainside.

“We’ve got to figure a way out,” Bunny said, as gunfire echoed down the tunnel from the cave. The Disciples sounded like they were in full-out assault mode. And the guides only had twenty bullets, max.

There was no way they could go back though. The Disciples would have the cave entrance guarded, even if they could somehow get around the men in the cave.

“We’ve got to just keep moving,” Rebecca said. Someone would miss them soon, and the Disciples weren’t going to hang around forever. They were more of a shock-and-awe kind of operation.

Then the gunshots stopped. That was not good news.

Hurrying down the black, slick tunnel, Rebecca’s hand slid over an opening.

“Bunny, feel this,” Rebecca whispered.

The redhead complied. “So?”

“It’s a lava tube.”

Rebecca imagined the glacier’s outer surface, pocked with holes. This was where the wind was coming in to create the moaning sound.

“This is our way out,” Rebecca announced, feeling the perfectly round tunnel. Iceland was known for its lava tubes. It was home to some of the longest ones, stretching miles. They didn’t need this one to go that far. They just needed the tube to get them out of the cave system.

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