Daredevil Riders

86

The mountain was trembling now, as one precision explosion after another detonated.

“The whole mountain is going to come down on us,” screamed Mirabel.

“No it won’t,” said Herbert as they raced along. “Just enough to kill us. But she has to allow them to be able to get in and find the pieces of evidence she wants to be found.”

“That b***h!” screamed Anthony as another bomb detonated in front of them, causing Herbert to veer off to the left with the others right behind.

“Oliver, what about the way you came in?” called out Finn. “She might not know about that.”

“She does know about it but we’ve got no choice,” Herbert replied.

A section of wall toppled over, nearly crushing Caleb. However, Finn and Knox pulled him to safety with a second to spare. But Caleb moaned and clutched his shoulder where a chunk of rock had struck.

Finn pulled open his shirt and shone a light on him. “Collarbone’s cracked. But you’re okay. Collarbone’s the fail-safe. It breaks so another more important part doesn’t.”

“Makes me feel so much better,” groaned Caleb.

When Herbert reached the kitchen area he stopped and stared helplessly at what was in front of him. Mr. Green had been ahead of him on this too. She’d collapsed the entrance to the back of the kitchen with a thick wall of debris that had cascaded down from a charge no doubt having been placed in a perfect spot to accomplish this. And even if they dug through that, Herbert knew they would just confront another, even thicker wall of rubble. Mr. Green would have seen to that.

She did her homework.

He briefly wondered how long ago she had had Murder Mountain ready to go. And was she somewhere nearby, detonating these charges? Was she somehow watching them, knowing exactly when to set off each one? And then he had no more time to wonder, as everyone looked at him.

“What now?” said Anthony breathlessly, her face, like all the others’, caked with grime from the dust and smoke.

Herbert looked upward as another charge detonated, though not nearby. But more of the facility collapsed and the mountain gave another shudder.

Then the lights went completely out, plunging them into darkness.

Herbert, Finn and Knox immediately powered up their NV goggles. Herbert took Mirabel’s hand, Knox took Caleb’s and Finn clamped his hand around Anthony’s wrist.

“Follow me,” said Herbert.

There was one more way out of here. And as far as Herbert knew, he was the only person who had ever discovered it. This was their last chance.

He was very conscious of the fact t

hat he had no idea where the next charge Mr. Green had placed would detonate. She had no reason to allow them to leave here alive, where they could tell people the truth. Each step they took could truly be their—

Mirabel screamed.

JOE KNOX DISAPPEARED UNDER A PILE of rubble as a charge detonating fifty feet away collapsed the section of wall next to him. The others instantly began digging the man out. Herbert was on his knees pitching chunks of debris off his friend. His fingers and arms bloodied, the sweat stinging his eyes, he frantically worked in the dark to free Knox. Finally, his fingers touched flesh. In two more minutes they had uncovered the man completely.

Knox was breathing, but unconscious.

Herbert started to lift him up, but Finn said, “Let me do that.”

He hoisted the two-hundred-pound Knox over his shoulder.

“The only other way out is up, Harry,” said Herbert.

Finn nodded, a grim look on his face. “Just lead the way.”

Herbert took the length of rope from Knox’s knapsack that the man had used to help rescue Caleb from the tank of sludge. Each person looped the rope around their middle and then passed it on.

“Let’s move,” said Herbert.

He prayed that Mr. Green had not figured out the third exit from Murder Mountain, as he had done all those years ago. He led the group across the main hall and down to the other end. Stopping in front of what looked like a sheer wall of metal, he ran his fingers up and down its surface. It was cold to the touch, still strong, seemingly impenetrable. Rivets ran up one side of the panel and down the other. Another explosion shook the building. Dirt and dust tumbled down on them from the weakening ceiling.

He pressed on one spot and the wall gave way. He slid the metal out of the way and a set of crude rock stairs was revealed. They went through the opening and headed up.

Herbert wondered how long it would take for the authorities to realize what was happening. Some local would report the explosions. This would be relayed to the sheriff’s department or whatever police was up here. They would send someone, probably a single officer, and that person would have no idea what they were faced with. Calls would be made. At some point, after a lengthy interval, the CIA would hear of it. They would send a team up here helter-skelter.

But what would they find?

They would find exactly what Mr. Green wanted them to find. Dead Russian muscle, possibly tied to the d**g cartels. And a nanobot research facility where long ago the CIA had trained its assassins. That would hit the national and global news pipelines like a nuclear warhead.

And they will find us, thought Herbert. They’ll find us dead.

But how would she accomplish that last part? The explosions might seal them in here, but they could conceivably survive until rescuers arrived. They had some food, some water. There might be supplies here they could use.

She would have thought of that. There has to be something else.

They kept moving. When Finn grew tired, Herbert hefted Knox over his shoulder and carried him for as long as he could. Then Finn swapped back. But as the route took them upwards, it became harder and harder to manage. Yet they kept going.

Chunks of rock now dropped from above with each detonation, since they were in parts of the facility that had never been built out, where the mountain had been left untouched.

Mirabel gasped, “Where are we headed?”

Herbert pointed up. “Not much farther.”

“Is it on top of the mountain?”

“Close to it.”

“Is there a way down?”

Herbert didn’t answer right away. Actually he didn’t have an answer. He had used this exit before, finding it mostly by accident one night when he couldn’t sleep. But he’d never gone down the mountain. He’d just looked at the stars, had a few moments of peace before heading back and taking up his training once more. So he didn’t know if there was a way down the mountain. But there had to be. He would find one.

He glanced back at Finn, who was carrying Knox. He looked at Caleb clutching his injured shoulder. He looked at exhausted Mirabel. He felt his own legs tremble from extreme exertion.

“We’ll find one, Mirabel,” he said. “And being outside the mountain is better than being inside it.”

They traveled upward another hundred feet. Every time they came to a cross-tunnel Herbert had to stop and think about which one was the right one. Twice he made the wrong decision. On the third time he went on ahead alone until he was sure of the way and then came back and got the others.

Finn said in a low voice to him, “Knox is not doing well.”

Herbert knelt down beside the injured man and shone his light on his face. It was gray, sweaty, but cool to the touch. Herbert gently lifted one of the man’s eyelids and hit the eye with the light. He let the eyelid fall back into place and rose.

Knox didn’t have much time left to live.

“Let’s go.”

Anthony said, “Is it my imagination or is it getting harder to breathe? I didn’t think the mountains in Virginia were that high.”

“They’re not,” said Herbert. He took a long breath and it caught halfway in his chest as the amount of oxygen drawn in petered out.

Now Herbert had his answer. Mr. Green was going to suffocate them. Down below he heard machinery operating.

“Fans,” he said. “Taking the air out.”

He took another whiff and his features involuntarily seized up.

Finn looked at him. “And she’s adding something to the air that’s still left in here. Something we don’t need in our lungs. Besides all the smoke and s**t from the detonations.”

“Hurry,” said Herbert. “This way.”

Another fifty feet of rocky paths like large steps made of Herbert. They were uneven, overly wide in some places, problematically narrow in others.

Herbert looked at Finn. He knew his friend had uncommon strength and the nearly infinite endurance of the Navy SEAL he had once been. But he was operating on about half the level of oxygen one needed and the situation was getting worse.

Mirabel had her arm around Caleb, helping him up the path. But Caleb was growing tired quickly. He didn’t have near the strength or stamina of the others.

Finally he stopped and sat down, his breaths coming in desperate wheezes.

“Just… go. Leave… me. Can’t…”

Herbert turned, put his arm under Caleb’s good shoulder and hauled him to his feet. Caleb winced in pain.

“No one gets left behind,” he said. “We either all stay here or we all keep going.”

They struggled on.

Mirabel was the first to see it.

“Light!” she exclaimed.

They rushed forward, encouraged by perhaps the end to their journey.

It was a natural cleft in the mountaintop that decades ago Herbert had enlarged and then covered with materials he had smuggled up from the facility below. The cracks of light did not lie. The dawn had broken

outside. It was hard for Stone to believe that hours had passed while they’d been inside the mountain.

They reached the seam of light. Stone pushed through plywood and dislodged metal plates that he had placed there years ago. The seam became a foot-wide opening. Finn put Knox down and helped. Twelve inches became a yard. Far below they heard a single explosion, but they were now free of the mountain.

But Stone cautioned, “Be ready. I’ll go first.”

They all tensed. Finn picked Knox up and pulled his weapon. Chapman had her Walther in one hand and what looked like a throwing knife in the other. Annabelle held on to Caleb, who was nearly dead on his feet after the long ascent.

Stone took a step forward and then stumbled, nearly toppling to his knees. He looked down.

“s**t!”

He hadn’t tripped over the uneven terrain. A wire had been stretched between the rock sides of the opening. He looked to his right. Wedged into a crevice was the last explosive. It had a counter. It was at five seconds.

“Get back,” screamed Stone as he lunged forward toward the bomb. Right at the same instant Chapman darted forward too.

Annabelle yelled. Caleb moaned. Finn staggered backward under the weight of Joe Knox.

Stone glanced at the MI6 agent. She wasn’t looking at him. She was staring dead at the bomb, her jaw tensed, her arms raised above her. She gained purchase with the rock floor and launched herself past him.

Stone shouted, “No, Mary!”

The counter hit one.

CHAPTER 102

ANOTHER MEMORIAL SERVICE.

At Arlington Cemetery.

A trio of caskets was lined up side by side representing three veterans of America’s military.

Harry Finn.

Joseph Knox.

And John Carr.

Security was doubly heavy considering what had happened last time. There were four circles of perimeter patrols. Bomb detection canines were everywhere. Because of what they now knew about nanobots, every bag was hand-searched, every person patted down, every cell phone, iPhone and electronic device of any kind confiscated.

The rules had definitely changed. Nothing would ever be the same again.

The president was there to give the remarks. Important members of Congress and the military were also in attendance. The FBI director, Riley Weaver and Agents Ashburn and Garchik were all there. Sir James McElroy was also in attendance because his PM was also present. Not being in the American military or satisfying other specific criteria, Mary Chapman did not have a casket here. But the PM was scheduled to say a few heartfelt words about her sacrifice to help Britain’s greatest ally.

Annabelle Conroy and Caleb Shaw were not here either for the same reason as Chapman. They didn’t satisfy the criteria for burial at the exalted cemetery. But the president would mention what they had done as well.

The PM spoke first. Then came a stream of important dignitaries to the podium, including Riley Weaver. He didn’t explain what Murder Mountain was, because he didn’t have to. The press had been kept completely out of the loop on that. Officially, the deaths of Knox, Finn and Carr had come about by a confrontation with a team of Russian d**g dealers who had fashioned a laboratory at an abandoned government facility with the aid of an American intelligence officer turned traitor. The bombing and gunfire in Lafayette Park and the subsequent murders in Pennsylvania, Virginia and D.C. had been carried out by the same group. Speaking last, the president swore that he would do everything in his power to see that justice was done and the perpetrators of these vile acts held accountable. Tension between the Americans and Russians was understandably at an all-time high.

From nearly a half a mile away, atop a knoll at Arlington Cemetery the woman watched these proceedings while she pretended to be gazing at the faded tombstone of a long-dead general. By virtue of a PA system that broadcast across the cemetery, she could hear every word of the speeches. Most held no interest for her, but the one by the president did capture her attention. When he mentioned the American intelligence operative turned traitor, she had to smile.

She knew that the proceedings here were being carried live on all the major network and cable stations. She also knew that Carlos Montoya was watching, because she had communicated with him and told him to.

The plan had worked, even if the president of the U.S. and his counterpart in Mexico had survived. The Russians were being blamed. Her mission, against all odds, had been successful.

Her cell phone chirped. She looked at the message that had just come across the screen.

Buen trabajo.

Good work indeed.

And then the rest of the message came through. It lifted her spirits even more. The remainder of the money was being sent to her account. Carlos Montoya wished her well. She typed her reply.

Hasta luego.

But she didn’t really mean it. She was done. This was it. How could she ever top this, anyway?

Marisa Friedman swiped at her new hairdo, cut exceedingly short and dyed dark brown. She had used time-tested techniques to change her facial features to the extent that not even her closest friends would know who she was. She could freely walk these grounds without worry of being recognized.

She turned away from the ceremony. If she had any regrets, it was that John Carr had not taken her up on her offer. Yet she couldn’t have expected that he would. Once he found out she had been behind it all—and he was the sort that would—she would have had to kill him anyway. Yet they could have had a little time together. For someone like Friedman, alone most of her life, that would have been enough.

One billion dollars in her bank account and the rest of her life to do as she pleased. She sighed contentedly. It wasn’t every day that one pulled off one of the most intricate and earth-shattering operations of all time. Her new papers were in order. A ride on private wings awaited her at Dulles Airport. She had actually purchased an island, through a straw-man transaction. And now she intended to do absolutely nothing for the next year except lie on the beach, read, sip a cool drink and decide what would be next. She passed a number of bomb detection canines. None registered on her. She hid her smile as she passed the wall of security on her way out of the cemetery.

Nanobots.