Under Fire: (A Dan Taylor thriller) (14 page)

Dan edged round the corner of the outbuilding, listening to the frantic exchange in his earpiece.

A loud expletive from Mitch ended the conversation.

‘What the
fuck
is going on?’ Dan hissed.

‘Antonia’s out of action,’ explained David. ‘We’ve just lost all comms contact with her.’

‘Shit!’ Dan glanced around the open expanse between the outbuilding and the villa. ‘Mitch – I’ve still got three bugs to plant. What’s the status of the guards?’

‘Move now. The ground’s clear but you’ve probably got seconds until word gets out about Antonia and the two guards in that building hightail it out of there.’

‘Copy that,’ said Dan, and sprinted towards the villa.

He slid across the last five metres of gravel and dirt, sliding to a standstill against the side of the house.

Hearing a shout from the outbuilding, he glanced up. The two guards had spilled out of the doorway, chattering excitedly into their radios.

He heard the splutter of an engine revving, and saw an open-top Jeep reversing out of the garage building. It spun in the loose gravel and then shot forwards down the driveway towards the front gate.

 ‘Looks like they’ve found Antonia,’ he murmured.

‘Is she alive?’ asked David.

‘I don’t know yet. I’ll let you know.’

Dan pulled out the aluminium case and selected another cicada. Edging slowly along the wall, he approached another window, wooden blinds silhouetting the light from within.

He remained still, listening to the sound of voices through the open window above his head, straining to hear what was being said. A crash of metal confirmed his thoughts – he was outside the kitchen area.

He slowly made his way along the side of the house, pausing under each window, taking his time, planting one more of the micro-transceivers. As he moved, he kept a watchful eye on the yard, ready to drop to the ground if anyone appeared.

A few minutes later he heard the sound of the vehicle returning, the noise of its engine increasing as it sped towards the house.

He tentatively raised his head and peered around the side of the villa. His heart sank.

Antonia sat between two guards on the back seat of the vehicle, her arms pinned behind her back.

The driver skidded to a halt inside the gates. One of the guards jumped out and re-fastened the chain.

Dan watched as Antonia gazed around the compound. He ducked lower. He couldn’t afford for her to see him now. He felt the anger rise as he recalled the red welt visible on her cheek.

The vehicle lurched forward. The guard finished securing the chain before he turned and walked in the direction the vehicle had taken.

Dan raised his head and watched as the vehicle pulled up outside the villa and Antonia was dragged from her seat. He could hear her protests carrying over the slight breeze which ruffled the grass at his feet, and then a slap and her protests died out.

Dan tapped his throat mike. ‘I’m going in.’

‘Negative, Dan. Get out of there. We need to organise a proper rescue mission,’ snapped David.

‘There’s no time,’ hissed Dan. ‘God knows what those brutes will do to her. Once Hassan gets back here…’

‘Dan, no – it’s too risky.’

‘She’s one of us, David. I’m not leaving her behind.’

Dan ripped out his earpiece and removed the throat microphone. Crouching down, he quickly scraped a small hollow in the earth with his bare hands, dropped the comms equipment into it, and covered it up.

Satisfied, he crawled along the wall. At the end, he took a deep breath and peered around the corner.

A paved terraced area appeared uninhibited, the moonlight not yet having crested the house. A cool breeze whipped dried leaves around the legs of a cast iron table and its chairs, which stood haphazardly, recently abandoned.

Dan considered his options. His eyes caught movement near the west-facing wall from curtains, which billowed in the breeze that blew in across the patio and through the house.

Silently, he began to edge towards the patio doors. As he drew closer, he noticed the curtain was billowing out from a door which had been left slightly ajar. He paused, and craned his neck to peer through the first window. The curtains blew outwards in the breeze once more and Dan caught a glimpse of a study, with bookshelves along one length of wall, a desk at the end nearest to him, and a low coffee table surrounded by four armchairs. At the far end, he saw an open door, which he presumed led out into a hallway.

He turned and, glancing over his shoulder and seeing no-one, strode purposefully over to the open patio door, pushed the curtain to one side and entered the room, carefully sliding the last micro-transceiver onto the glass surface of the patio door as he passed.

***

The first thing that struck Dan was the smell. It was a mixture of spices, sweet tea and a lingering afterthought of cigars.

He stopped just inside the patio doors, pulled them closed behind him, shut the curtains and listened.

From somewhere in the depths of the villa, he could hear a rumble of male voices – two or three men talking excitedly.

Mindful that he had to find where Antonia had been taken, he walked over and crouched next to the desk.

Made from a deeply stained mahogany, the desk appeared to be several years old, with decorative carvings adorning its edges. Dan ran his fingers over the rich wood, feeling the workmanship under his touch.

He pulled on the iron handle of the topmost of four drawers, but it refused to move. He stepped back as he spotted a corner of a page sticking out from the bottom drawer, bent down, glanced at his short fingernails, and cursed under his breath.

After trying each of the drawers and finding them locked, he stood up and began carefully sifting through the papers arranged in tidy piles on the desk.

Dan looked up sharply as the voices grew louder, more aggressive. His heart stopped as he heard Antonia’s voice laced with fear, pleading.

‘Please,
no
.’

The sound of a slap pierced the air.

Dan dropped the pages from his hand, the notes fluttering over the desk surface as he cleared the room in long strides and peered through the open doorway. The passageway was deserted, so he craned his neck round the door frame to get his bearings. The voices were coming from his right, back towards the direction of the kitchen. To his left, a flight of stairs led upwards, curving round to the right and hiding the upper level from view.

Dan turned right, keeping close to the wall, and checked over his shoulder as he progressed quickly towards the voices. As he drew closer he could hear the conversation.

‘Who are you working for?’

‘I told you – no-one!’

‘So why were you here? The road is clearly private property.’

Dan frowned. The accent was familiar, Middle Eastern.

‘I was out for a walk. I got lost. I wanted to ask for directions.’

Dan winced as another slap emanated from the kitchen, and Antonia cried out. He reached down for his Sig Sauer.

He edged closer along the passageway towards the open kitchen door, now only a few steps away. He stopped, trying to think of a way to get Antonia out alive, wondering how much time he’d have from the first gunshot being fired.

Dan breathed out hard. Two voices. Probably more guards in the house somewhere.

He heard a metallic rattle from the kitchen, a belt being loosened.

‘Maybe it’s time we taught you what happens to strange women who attack our friends,’ said one of the voices.

 Decision time.

He shook his head. It could turn out to be the worst decision of his life. And the last. He raised his hands and stepped out.

‘Let her go.’

The conversation stopped in mid-sentence and two men turned to face him.

Dan quickly scanned the room and took in the situation. Two men, and Antonia. They had forced her to sit on one of the wooden kitchen chairs. Her eyes widened in shock as Dan appeared.

The larger of the two men stood behind her, pinning her arms by her sides, while his accomplice stood in front of her, his arm raised, his head turned to face Dan.

‘Who the fuck are you?’ he growled, straightening up, his hand automatically seeking the gun tucked under his shirt.

‘Don’t,’ said Dan. ‘I’ll kill you and your friend here before you’ve even thought about whether to fire or not.’

The man laughed, lowered his hand slowly then held up both in a placating gesture. ‘Calm down. This is private property. Your friend here,’ he jerked his head at Antonia, ‘was trespassing. So are you.’

‘Apologies,’ said Dan. ‘Now let her go.’

The man standing behind Antonia smirked and stroked her face. Antonia jerked her head away, but the man tightened his grip on her arms. She whimpered in pain.

‘Maybe we let you go and keep her,’ the man snarled.

Dan kept his gun up and his focus on the first man. ‘In your dreams,’ he murmured. He edged through the door frame, glanced left and right. No-one else in the room.

The first man blinked once, then glanced back at his colleague and jerked his chin at Antonia. ‘Let her go.’

Dan relaxed a split second too soon. Too late, he saw Antonia’s eyes widen, then there was an explosion in his kidneys and his legs gave way as he crashed to the floor.

He lay curled on the floor, tears in his eyes from the excruciating pain, gasping to get his breath. He turned his head at a cackle above him, his attacker grinning down at him, holding a pool cue in his hand.

‘Didn’t expect that, did you?’ said the man.

‘What took you so long, Mustapha?’ asked the first thug.

Dan’s assailant shrugged. ‘I wanted to make sure there was only one of him. And there is. Must be her boyfriend.’

‘Doesn’t explain what he’s doing here,’ said the other man as he bent down and picked up Dan’s gun. ‘Or what he’s doing with this,’ he added, turning it in his hand. He looked down at Dan and kicked him in the back.

Dan groaned, and guessed he’d be pissing blood for a couple of days – if they got out alive. ‘Up yours,’ he mumbled then turned, gasping, as he tried to ease the pain.

‘Get him up,’ ordered Mustapha.

The two thugs bent down and forced Dan to his knees.

‘Who are you?’ asked the third man. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Trick or treat,’ said Dan.

He saw the punch coming and braced himself. As the impact hit him, his head snapped to the left and he tasted blood. He grunted and let his head hang for a moment as he ran his tongue around his mouth counting teeth. One felt loose.
Still there though
.

He raised his head and glared at the guard who stood back, grinned at him, and then nodded at the two guards who pinned Dan’s arms behind his back.

‘Throw them both in the cellar, Ali, and shut the door. The boss can talk to them when he gets back. Then they’ll understand pain,’ he snarled, before he turned and strode from the room.

‘No!’ screamed Antonia as Ali lunged for her and, grabbing her wrist, forced her down the stone steps with his revolver to her temple.

***

Dan looked around at his surroundings as their captors closed the cellar door. A set of shelves caught his eye. He lunged for them as the room plunged into darkness and the sound of deadbolts being closed echoed around the subterranean chamber.

‘What are you doing?’ asked Antonia, her voice quivering.

‘Hang on.’ Dan reached along the shelves slowly. He was sure he’d seen something they could use, but he didn’t want to knock it on the floor – he’d never find it again.

His fingers traced over the rough surface, touching dust, old cardboard packets. He sneezed, and as his hand moved with the involuntary reflex that shivered through his body, his fingers brushed the surface of what he’d been searching for. He grinned as he pulled it towards him, his heart beating.

Please let this work.

He turned the object in his hands, getting his bearings. Holding it vertically, he pushed the switch jutting out from the side of it, and held his breath.

The torch hesitantly flickered to life.

Dan slapped the side of it with the palm of his hand and willed the beam to keep steady. He swung the light to his left and right, getting his bearings, then caught a glimpse of Antonia staring at him.

‘Let’s find a way out,’ he said.

Easing himself past discarded boxes strewn across the floor, he handed the torch to Antonia then placed his hands above his head and pushed at the cellar door.

It was fixed solid, with no movement under Dan’s efforts. He cursed.

‘It would’ve been too easy,’ said Antonia, as she handed him the torch and watched him swing the beam around the cellar.

‘I know, but if you don’t check the obvious, you could be wasting time looking for alternatives,’ he replied. He shone the torch into the gloom. Cobwebs hung from every one of the exposed beams. He shuddered as one brushed against his face. He swept his hand across his face, and felt an involuntary shiver down his spine.

‘Are you scared of spiders?’ whispered Antonia, the amusement in her voice evident.

‘Only the big ones,’ he hissed.

He pushed his way to the back of the cellar, climbing over empty crates and boxes. He swung the torchlight across the faint lettering on the outside of the various wooden cartons and frowned. A military-like stencil array of letters and numbers had been printed across the lids. He turned his head, trying to fathom the abbreviations and numbered sequences, then shook his head and moved across to a pile of empty cardboard boxes, Antonia following in his wake.

‘What is it?’ she asked, her gaze following the torchlight while she carefully followed Dan across the cellar floor.

‘Supplies,’ he murmured. ‘Which means we’re on the right track.’

‘Right track?’

Dan stopped and shone the torch across the cellar to the far wall. ‘When I was upstairs in Hassan’s study, I saw an old map on the wall. It had lines leading away from the villa – I thought they were old footpaths or something, but now I’m wondering if they were tunnels.’

Antonia frowned. ‘Tunnels? Leading where?’

Dan swung the torch light round the cavernous cellar until he found the empty packing crates. ‘Those are military markings,’ he explained. ‘I’m not sure what they mean,’ he shrugged, ‘but put them together with the empty food boxes and I’m thinking this is where they’re resupplying a stolen submarine. That’s why we’re really here. I couldn’t tell you before. If we can find the entrance to a tunnel, I’m betting it leads to the cliffs and somehow they’ve got their supplies down to the submarine.’

Antonia nodded. ‘Sounds good.’ She looked up at him. ‘Where do we start?’

Dan jerked his thumb over his shoulder. ‘Back there. It’s the outer wall, and if my sense of direction is right, it’s the nearest to the coastline.’

He turned, kicked an empty box out of the way, and began to move towards the back of the cellar.

Antonia grabbed his arm. ‘Dan!’

He stopped and turned.

Antonia looked around them, then up at Dan. ‘If they put us down here with this stuff, then we’re not meant to be getting out of here alive to tell anyone, are we?’

Dan stepped forward and pulled her to him. ‘No, we’re not.’ He hugged her tightly then stepped back and held her arms. ‘But we’re going to find a way, okay?’

She nodded as Dan turned, kicked an empty box out of the way, grabbed her by the hand and led the way.

Upon reaching the wall, they began to run their fingers over it, trying to find an opening.

‘We’re running out of time,’ hissed Antonia as she desperately clawed at the stones set into the ancient mortar.

‘Keep looking – it’s here somewhere.’

Antonia cursed as a fingernail tore, then slapped the wall in frustration, turned her back and leaned against it. ‘This is ridiculous,’ she said. ‘It’s not like there’s going to be a hidden latch or anything. We’re wasting…’

She broke off and gasped as the wall gave way under her weight, stumbling as she lost her balance.

Dan reached out, caught her arm and steadied her, a grin plastered across his face. ‘You’ve broken it! I told you not to have that extra croissant for breakfast.’

She slapped his arm. ‘You…!’

‘Come on,’ he urged. ‘Beat me up later. We’ve got to get moving.’

He stooped and shone the torch through the gap in the wall. A sand-strewn rough path led away from the house, just as the map had indicated. He looked over his shoulder, took Antonia’s hand, and squeezed.

‘Ready?’

She nodded, then ducked through the gap in the wall and fell into step behind him.

After they’d gone a few paces, a faint rumbling sound stopped them in their tracks. Dan raised the torch and shone it back the way they’d came, his fears realised in its narrowing light.

The door back to the cellar was closing.

Antonia gasped, a stunned expression on her face as she realised they were now entombed beneath the villa.

Dan looked down at her, and then swung the torchlight along the passage. ‘Guess we keep going.’