33
I pull out my mini-Maglite, shine it on the opposite end of the
corridor near the alcove and the entrance to the main diamond pit ramp. The
pair of steel doors protecting that end of the corridor have also been
automatically closed. I shine the light up one end of the corridor and down the
other.
“What shall we do, Chase?” Anjali
pleads.
“Just stay still,” Tony says. “For
certain, Kashmiri is listening in. Aren’t you Kashmiri, you terrorist bastard?”
Tony’s words echo inside the stone
and concrete corridor like the Mayday warning on a crashing jetliner.
“I don’t like this,” he adds, pointing
the barrel of his rifle at one set of doors, then pointing it at the other and
back again, as if at any second they might open up and release an army of Thuggees
to descend upon us. M
