If I Should Die (38 page)

“We need to pull every blasting cap out of the C-4,” Noah said, reaching up to the charge closest to him.

Omar Lewis came in. “There’s no one around the perimeter. Good work, Armstrong.” Then he looked up. “Oh shit.”

“Who has the detonator?” Sean demanded as both he and Patrick followed Noah’s lead.

Ricky replied. “Jon.”

FORTY-ONE

Jon and Lucy had flashlights; Bobbie had a gun. Jon took the lead, which meant Bobbie had the gun at Lucy’s back. Every few feet she poked Lucy with the barrel, and Lucy tried not to stumble. She didn’t want to fall down an exploration shaft a hundred feet to her death.

Jon whispered, “Keep your hand on the wall. Test each spot of ground before you step. About seventy feet in there’s an exploration shaft.”

“Give her the money,” Lucy told him. She didn’t want to walk that far into the mine. They had already started a gradual descent.

“Where is it?” Bobbie demanded.

“Victoria’s coffin,” Jon sneered. He stopped walking and turned to face Bobbie. In the yellow glow of the flashlight, he looked gaunt and determined.

He opened up his right hand. Inside was a small box with a switch. His thumb rested on the switch. “You’re not getting the money,” Jon told her. “This ends now.”

“This is about a
woman
? She was an
FBI agent
! She only seduced you to get close to
me
.”

“No. I knew she was an agent. She was going to save this town.”

Bobbie stared at Jon in shock and disgust. “You knew?” She held her gun in his face. “You fucking
knew
she was a Fed?”

“She wanted to bring in a team, but we both worried you’d smell the operation. So we worked together. And you never knew there was another undercover operative. You’re not as smart as you think, Roberta.”

“Jon, stop,” Lucy said, not wanting to antagonize Bobbie further.

“I’m sorry, Lucy.”

Bobbie fumed. “You disgust me, you fucking traitor. I don’t need you anymore, I know these tunnels better than anyone.”

Lucy shouted, “No! Bobbie, Jon rigged the mine to explode. We’ll all die!”

But Bobbie pressed the gun’s trigger and Jon’s chest exploded. His thumb hit the switch. Lucy screamed.

Sean had the last blasting cap in his hand when it exploded, burning the tips of his fingers. He dropped it and shook out the pain.

The mine stood. An echo of a feminine scream haunted him. Lucy.

“Fuck, that was too close!” Omar exclaimed.

There had been twelve blasting caps embedded in the C-4. C-4 was very stable and needed a spark to detonate; not even a bullet could set it off on its own. As soon as Bobbie disappeared down the tunnel, Omar ran up and tried to disarm the detonation device, but simultaneously the others pulled the blasting caps.

That quick plan had saved their lives.

“I’m going in.” Sean had retrieved his gun from Carl Browne, and now shoved it in his belt. “I heard a gunshot.” They all had, seconds before the blasting caps popped.

“You need me to guide you,” Ricky said.

“Hold it,” Noah said. “No way in hell I’m letting you walk in there unprotected.”

“You can’t stop me,” Sean said, his voice low and calm, but his eyes burned with pain and anger.

“I have equipment,” Omar said. “Wait one minute.” He bolted toward his truck.

Sean didn’t want to wait. The longer they waited, the more danger Lucy was in—if she wasn’t already dead.

Patrick said, “Sean, think. You need a flashlight, rope, a radio. And Ricky, you’re not going in.”

“I know this mine. So does Jon. Bobbie thinks she does, but she hasn’t been down here for years. Jon told her the money was where Victoria’s body had been, but he didn’t really put it there. He stashed it in Joe’s house.”

“Which means when Bobbie gets there and sees the money is missing, she’ll lash out at Lucy,” Sean said. “We have to beat her there, go in through the ventilation shaft.”

“It’ll take you twenty minutes minimum to drive over there—there’s no straight path,” Ricky said. “We have to follow. And quickly.”

“I’m not letting you risk yourself, Ricky.”

“This is my fault. I helped Jon. I knew I shouldn’t have, but Bobbie killed everyone who ever mattered to me.”

“She’s a sick psycho,” Sean agreed, “and I’m not letting her get Lucy. Or you.”

Omar drove up, his headlights illuminating the entire entrance. He jumped out. “I have a plan.”

Sean’s frustration hit overload. He didn’t know if Lucy was dead or alive, and he didn’t want to wait another minute.

Noah grabbed him and stared him down. “If that bullet was for Lucy, she’s dead. If it wasn’t, then she needs you to think smart. Or so help me, I’ll cuff you and get her myself.”

Sean’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “Tell me the plan, Agent Lewis—fast.”

Lucy fell to her knees when Jon hit the switch, her arms covering her head.

Nothing happened.

She heard voices from the entrance. Judging from their steps, they were about thirty feet in.

Jon was on the ground next to her. She took his hand. “Jon—”

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t w-w-want to hurt you.” His voice was labored and raspy. It sounded like Bobbie’s bullet had punctured a lung. He struggled for another breath.

“It was an accident. You didn’t mean to press the button.” She wanted to believe it, but wasn’t certain she could. “I’ll get help.”

“S-Stay left.”

Bobbie grabbed Jon’s flashlight and kicked him in his stomach.

“Don’t!” Lucy shouted.

Bobbie kicked him again. “You blew up my warehouses!” Kick. “Stole my money!” Double kick. “Ruined everything!” Jon fell to his side. Blood dripped from his mouth.

“I w-w-would do it again,” Jon gasped out. “Lucy. Be. Careful. W-what …”

She could barely hear him and leaned down. “What did you say?”

He whispered, “Not. There.”

“He’s going into shock.” Lucy glanced over her shoulder at Bobbie. “If we get him out, we can keep him warm and put in a tube to help him breathe—”

Bobbie shot Jon in the head without hesitation, so quickly Lucy almost didn’t register what had happened, even though his blood hit her face and chest. Then Bobbie aimed the gun at Lucy. “You’re lucky I don’t shoot you, too. You’re an idiot to think I’d lift a finger to help that traitor. And besides, I need a shield in case your buddies follow us in.”

Lucy barely heard Bobbie, didn’t have time to fear for her own life. She hadn’t expected her to shoot Jon so coldly. Her hands were covered in Jon’s blood and half his head was now gone.

“Get up, Lucy. It’s Lucy, right?”

Lucy slowly rose to her feet. She had one flashlight and no gun.

“Don’t be stupid, and you get to be my hostage. You might even be reunited with your lover, who’s tied up in my truck. I’ll let you die together. Move. Stay to the left. Follow the tracks. But mostly, just keep moving. There is no way out but through me, and I guarantee if you run, you’ll die. Either my gun or the mine will kill you.”

Lucy stepped over Jon’s body, her hand on the wall.

She needed to talk to Bobbie, establish a connection, an understanding, but she was at a complete loss. She couldn’t reason with someone so impulsive and violent.

Something brushed by her face and she jumped, stifling a scream.

Bobbie laughed. “You’re so funny! It’s just a bat.”

Bobbie’s tone changed. She’d gone from serious to humorous in less than a minute. But as Lucy thought back to what she’d said, even her threat had a hint of humor. She enjoyed it. She was in charge and she enjoyed Lucy’s fear. She’d shot Jon because she wanted him dead—but she also enjoyed how the violence scared Lucy. It relaxed Bobbie. Put her in control.

It was all about control. When Bobbie felt things were out of control, she was rash and dangerous. When she was in control, she was still dangerous, but not rash. Methodical and calculating. She could change plans on a dime, and as long as she controlled the situation, she was happy.

Lucy said, “Sorry.” She moved slowly down the tunnel. They were going at a downward angle—just steep enough that Lucy had to be careful where she stepped so she didn’t slip.

Bobbie laughed. “I wish we had time to get to know each other. We’re smarter than men. I always have been, at any rate. Smarter and sharper and more willing to do what it takes to get what I want.”

“It’s because people don’t expect women to be ruthless and in complete control of our lives.”

Bobbie pondered that as she poked Lucy with the barrel of the gun. “You might be right. Being looked at as soft and weak just because I’m a woman does give me a certain advantage.”

“I heard about your grand performance when you turned over your brother to the FBI.” Lucy’s foot slipped and she grabbed the wall. It was cold and damp. Her whole body felt frozen, and the only thing that kept her moving was the adrenaline of fear.

“Like you said, being a woman has certain advantages.”

“When I found out your brother had something on you that kept you from going after his son, I thought it might be the tape of your FBI interview where you lied about your dead husband and what happened, but this is something that he had on you six years ago, and Agent Sheffield stole the disk in December.”

“No more talking. Just walking. Hey, I made a rhyme.”

“Paul had already spilled the beans. Are you afraid someone else knows?”

“Shut up. Paul wouldn’t say a word because he’d be dead. It’s mutually beneficial that we both keep our end of the bargain.”

They came to a split in the tunnel. She remembered Jon’s words.
Stay left
had two meanings. Stay to the left tunnel or stay to the left of the tunnel? She shined her light down on the ground. The tracks split and went both ways.

“That way,” Bobbie said.

Lucy walked slowly, but Bobbie wasn’t patient. “Come on, move it!”

“I’m just curious,” Lucy said. If she could keep Bobbie talking, they would go slower, and Lucy was all about caution right now. Her heart pounded. She feared falling to her death far more than she feared Bobbie’s gun—and she was scared plenty of Bobbie’s gun.

“You know what they say, curiosity killed the cat.” Bobbie giggled.

“Do you think that after six years, the Molina drug family would still care that not only did you kill Herve yourself, but you stole everything in his safe? And that you turned over that valuable information to their enemies?” Some of this was conjecture, but Lucy bet she was right.

Lucy had been thinking about this situation for the last twenty-four hours. She didn’t think it was a coincidence that Bobbie had made a deal with Lowell on the guns. He trusted her because she’d already been working for him.

“You’ve been working for Sampson Lowell from the beginning,” Lucy guessed.

She expected a reaction, but not a simple admission. “You
are
smarter than the men.”

“If I figured it out, the FBI will figure it out, too. And they have more information than I do.”

“Shut! Up!” Bobbie pushed Lucy down the tunnel to get her moving. Lucy stumbled and dropped her flashlight. It didn’t make a sound. It fell down a deep hole, the light bouncing off the ceiling until it broke or went out or was too far down to shine this far.

Lucy screamed.

“I don’t need you,” Bobbie said. “Meet the Hell Hole. You can join your fellow FBI agent Victoria Sheffield, Bitch Number One, at the bottom of the pit. But she had it easy. She was already dead before she went down.”

Bobbie lunged for Lucy. Lucy jumped to the left, her back flat against the wall. Bobbie lost her balance and stumbled. She reached for Lucy, but her foot slipped into the hole.

Her hand wrapped around Lucy’s ankle. Lucy fell hard as Bobbie pulled her down, grunting as she tried to use Lucy’s body to climb to safety. The side of the exploration shaft began to crumble and Lucy felt herself falling.

Sean heard Lucy’s scream. She was closer than they’d thought. They had been following the light ahead of them, their flashlights turned off, because Sean didn’t want Bobbie to know she was being followed. Then the light changed, faded, and there was only one beam.

“They’re at the Hell Hole,” Ricky told him.

“Stay back,” Sean ordered. He checked the harness Omar had strapped on him. The end was secured to the bumper of his truck.

Suddenly, everything went dark and Lucy screamed again. Sean turned on his light and rounded the corner.

Lucy was on the ground, clawing at the rocky bottom of the tunnel. Bobbie had her leg and was trying to use Lucy’s body as leverage to climb out of the exploration shaft.

“Lucy!” Sean reached out.

She grabbed his hand. Her hands were slick with dirt and blood and she began to slip. Bobbie’s weight was pulling her down.

“Ricky! Light!” Sean called out.

Ricky came around the corner and shined his bright light into the tunnel.

There was nowhere to gain traction. Nowhere to gain a foothold. Only his raw strength and the cable that strapped him to the truck held him in place.

He shouted into his radio and prayed they could still hear him, “I need more rope!”

Omar came back with, “That’s it.”

“I need more!”

Sean dropped his own flashlight and grabbed both of Lucy’s hands. The rappelling vest dug deep into his flesh, making breathing difficult, as he strained to hold on to Lucy’s hands.

“I’m moving the truck into the mine entrance,” Noah said over the radio. “I can get you ten more feet, max. Omar, move,” Sean heard before the radio went off.

Suddenly, the slack on the rope caused Sean to slide precariously closer to the edge of the exploration shaft. Lucy screamed as her legs went over the side. Bobbie shouted, “I’ll kill you!”

Lucy screamed again, this time in pain, not fear.

“What?” Sean grunted.

“Knife. She cut me.”

Ricky stood over the shaft with a small .22. Sean didn’t know he had it. “No, Ricky.”

Ricky shined the light into the pit where Bobbie held on to Lucy’s legs. “Good-bye, Aunt Bobbie.”

Ricky fired the gun, and suddenly Lucy was out of the pit and in Sean’s arms on the floor of the tunnel. He scurried away from the edge of the pit, the Hell Hole, and held her close. “God, Lucy, thank God. I can’t lose you.”