WAR: Intrusion (47 page)

Helen fought her panic for ten agonizing minutes. But when the room shook under the force of an explosion from the direction of the main cavern, Helen gave up.

She swiped the tears from her cheeks. “We’re leaving. I’m not risking that the ceiling is going to collapse on us. At least if we’re out in the open and moving we have a better chance of surviving a cave-in than if we’re locked here in the dark.”

“I agree.”

Helen waited until she didn’t hear any movement outside, then said, “All right. Let’s do this.”

She cracked open the door. The hallway was empty in both directions. “Okay. We’re clear.”

Easing her way into the corridor, she paused, hearing gunfire from her left, the direction Lachlan had gone. Reminding herself that he was a trained professional, she fought her instinct to help him and instead turned right.

She and Mrs. N’Dorah stuck close to the walls of the corridor as they walked, even though this area was deserted. A short time later, they discovered a row of dormitory style rooms. The rooms were disordered, as if Natchaba’s men had dashed inside, snatched everything essential, then fled.

The first intersection they came to was clear. But they hadn’t gone more than a few yards past it when a metal door clanged down behind them.

Helen shared a nervous glance with Mrs. N’Dorah. “Well. So much for having the option of retreat.”

Mrs. N’Dorah gave a shrug that belied her uneasy expression. “Do you hear that?”

“Yes.” A faint hum was coming from the direction opposite the fire door. As if there were people down that way. “But we don’t have a choice, do we? Let’s go.”

They’d just passed through the next intersection, when they heard the sound of a vehicle racing toward them. Helen gestured frantically to Mrs. N’Dorah and they took up hiding spots in opposite doorways.

There was little chance of remaining unobserved by the driver. Using hand signals, Helen indicated that Mrs. N’Dorah should stumble in front of the cart and Helen would grab the driver and pull him out of the vehicle.

Mrs. N’Dorah nodded.

A heartbeat later, a cart with a flatbed full of stacked boxes careened around the corner. The cart rocked slightly as it recovered from the sharp turn. When the driver checked over his right shoulder to make sure his load was still in place, Helen realized she didn’t need Mrs. N’Dorah’s help because the man had turned away from Helen.

She lunged forward. As she’d seen Lachlan do, she snaked her arm around the man’s neck. Placing her hand over his mouth and nose, she wrapped her other arm around his chest and pulled him out of the tiny cab. But the driver was heavier than she’d expected and his weight overbalanced her. She twisted as they fell so that the driver hit the ground with the side of his head before he rolled face down and went still beneath her. Helen slipped her hands out from beneath him, then checked that he was unconscious.

While Mrs. N’Dorah put on the man’s jacket, Helen took his walkie-talkie and set it on the front seat. This way they’d have some idea of what the rebels were up to.

Next, Helen removed the man’s pistol and held it out to Mrs. N’Dorah. “Take this.”

The other woman nodded and tucked the pistol into the jacket’s pocket. The man hadn’t been wearing a cap that Mrs. N’Dorah could use to hide her hair, so she spit on her hands and smoothed her hair close to her skull before climbing behind the wheel.

Helen walked around to the flatbed. The crates were stacked too close together for her to squeeze between, so she’d have to crouch down in the cab. As she was walking toward the passenger side of the cab, the walls and floor of the corridor jerked violently again, throwing her against the vehicle.

“Hurry,” Mrs. N’Dorah said.

Helen jumped into the cab, then wedged herself into the leg space beneath the passenger side dashboard, wincing as the movement set her wounded shoulder to throbbing again. “Drive until we’re close to the rebels, then find a place to stop where we can observe unseen while we wait for a chance to slip outside.”

Mrs. N’Dorah nodded, started the engine, and they were off.

From her hiding place, Helen could just see the walls of the corridor pass by. A muscle cramped in her upper back, just below the shoulder where she’d been shot. Helen gritted her teeth and panted against the pain as the cramp expanded all the way to her buttocks. Oh, God, she didn’t think she could take much more without crying out. Yet she was afraid that if she straightened even a little bit, she’d be spotted.

Just as she thought she would scream, Mrs. N’Dorah made a sharp right turn. The rest of the cart struggled to follow the path of the front wheels, but the weight in the back was too much. The cart tipped sideways, balanced on two wheels a moment, then fell over.

The impact jarred Helen loose from her hiding place and she toppled onto Mrs. N’Dorah. Using the side of the driver’s seat and the dashboard, Helen levered herself off of Mrs. N’Dorah, then climbed out. “Are you all right?” she asked as she held out her hand and helped the other woman out of the cab.

“I am okay.”

“Good. We have to get out of here before the others come to investigate.” Helen turned, but the cramp in her leg caused it to buckle beneath her. Mrs. N’Dorah put a steadying hand under Helen’s elbow. “Thanks.”

Helen tried again. This time managed to put a bit of weight on it. “Okay. I can do this.” Luckily, the cart’s headlights provided them with illumination. She broke into an uneven, limping run and they headed down the corridor.

“What did you see that made you turn down this corridor?” Helen gasped after the tunnel had twisted to the left. The turn had cut them off from the cart’s headlights. Unwilling to risk one of them tripping and breaking an ankle, she pulled out her flashlight and turned it on.

“Several meters…ahead of…us…” Mrs. N’Dorah slowed to a walk and took several deep breaths before continuing. “There was a queue of rebels waiting to get outside. Too many men for us to drive into and hope to get away.”

Helen raised her brows. “That wasn’t the plan.”

Mrs. N’Dorah shrugged. “I decided that if such an opportunity arose, I would take it.”

“Okay.” Helen glanced over her shoulder, but saw no sign of pursuit. “Halt a minute, let’s listen.”

It took a moment for their breathing to calm enough for the tunnel to fall silent. “I don’t hear anyone,” Helen said.

“Me, neither. But doctor, how are we going to get outside?”

“I don’t know.” Up ahead, to their left, light spilled from a long window such as found in a medical ward. Helen shut off the flashlight and indicated for Mrs. N’Dorah to stop. Then she sidled along the wall until she was next to the window. Mentally crossing her fingers for luck, she chanced a quick peek into the room.

As she’d suspected, it was the infirmary. She didn’t see any nurses or other attendants, so she motioned for Mrs. N’Dorah to join her. “This might be a good place to hide. I’m going in to check that it’s deserted. You stay out here and sound the alarm if anyone is coming.” She pointed to the far end of the window where it met the rock wall. “It’s safest if you stand there, out of the line of fire.”

“Be careful, doctor.”

Helen flashed her a faint smile. Once Mrs. N’Dorah was in place, Helen approached the door, pistol in hand. Holding her breath, Helen turned the door handle, then shoved the door open with her toe. Flattening herself against the corridor wall to the right of the door, she waited for an explosion or a barrage of bullets. After a count of ten, during which she wrestled her heart rate back to normal—how did Lachlan and his men deal with such moments day after day and remain sane?—she eased into the room. A generator hummed behind a screen to her left. To her right, several gurneys had been shoved against the wall. Her patient from the cavern lay on the closest gurney. Someone had put a bullet through the center of his forehead.

Anger flashed through her. Had Natchaba ever intended the man to live? Had that entire incident been some sort of sick game? Bile rose in her throat. She forced it back, then pulled the sheet up over the man’s face.

As she took a quick tour of the room, she discovered that the infirmary was stocked with all the necessary equipment and supplies to keep patients alive. Including the fluids that had not been provided for her when she’d been in the cavern. Tanks of anesthesia gases sat at the head of the table in the attached operating room.

It took all of Helen’s control not to slam the operating room door shut. Oh, yes. Natchaba, damn his soul, had been playing a psychological game with her. Forcing her to make an unconscionable choice, knowing that the outcome would be the same no matter what she decided.

Her patient, dead.

She went to the door.

“It’s clear. You can come in now,” Helen whispered. Mrs. N’Dorah hurried inside and shut the door behind her.

“It does not lock,” Mrs. N’Dorah said in dismay.

“That’s okay, we can roll this gurney in front of it.” The dead man would add some extra ballast to the barrier.

Once the gurney blocked the door, Mrs. N’Dorah turned to Helen. “Let me treat your shoulder, my dear.”

Helen shook her head. “We’ll be too vulnerable if the rebels come in. I’m fine. But we could both use some hydration.” She strode over to the small fridge and pulled out two bottles of water. As she sipped hers, wary of drinking too fast and causing her stomach to cramp, Helen tried to figure out where was the best place for them to hide. She considered, then rejected, the operating room. She didn’t want to be trapped in a space with just one exit. At least if someone found them in this main room they had both the door and the window as avenues of escape.

“Let’s put the privacy screens in front of the window, then turn off the lights,” Helen finally suggested. When she moved the last screen, she discovered that it hid another door.

“After I shut off the lights, I’m going to crack open this door to see where it leads.”

“All right.”

The door opened onto another corridor. To Helen’s right, the corridor disappeared into darkness. To her left was the line of men Mrs. N’Dorah had mentioned. All their attention was on getting out to the source of the natural light that brightened the corridor.

Helen shut the door, then rested her forehead against the back of it. So close. They were so close to freedom. The disappointment of being stuck here in the dark while sunlight beckoned not far away was almost too much for her to bear. But she could hear Lachlan’s voice in her head telling her to hang on a bit longer.

She wouldn’t let him down. She’d find patience, somehow. They’d wait until the rebels were gone. Then, if Lachlan’s team hadn’t shown up, they’d make a break for it.

Relieved to have a plan, Helen turned and slid down the door to sit on the floor. There must be a vent on this wall, because she could hear the murmur of the men in the corridor. Good. That might give them a bit of warning if rebels decided to enter from that direction.

Now that she didn’t have to keep moving, exhaustion nearly overwhelmed her.

She looked at her shoulder, then reached under her shirt. The handkerchief was soaked.

Uh-oh. How much blood had she lost?

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

FROM
INSIDE HIS private office, Natchaba checked the status of the evacuation on the screen of his laptop. He’d been informed that the destruction of the main console had both frozen the back door closed and had disabled the override switch. But his men had blown open the back door and were now in the process of loading the trucks. Excellent.

While Natchaba’s senior bodyguard stood a discrete distance away, and a team of four other bodyguards carried boxes of records and personal items though his private escape tunnel to his vehicle, Natchaba swiped his finger along the trackpad to bring up the next camera feed. A few government lorries had gathered on the opposite side of the gorge. But unless they had a way of establishing a temporary bridge, they would be no threat.

The forces that were moving through the jungle toward the back door, however, would soon be a problem. He notified his commander of the danger and told the man to activate the outer booby-traps in ten minutes. Scrolling through the rest of the feeds, he spotted Dr. Kirk and Mrs. N’Dorah moving down the corridor toward the exit, and MacKay heading this way, chased by a team of over a dozen of his men.

Annoyed by the excessive manpower, he waited until MacKay had passed the next intersection, then pressed the button to lower the fire door. The expressions on his men’s faces were comical as the door cut them off from MacKay.

“Tell the men that they are needed at the back in order to fight the approaching government troops,” he instructed the senior bodyguard. “We will handle MacKay.”

“Yes, sir.”

Watching the progress of Dr. Kirk and Mrs. N’Dorah, Natchaba triggered a door to close behind them, as well. Only this door trapped the women on the same side as his evacuating men, although still some distance away. Should he warn his men to look out for the women? He considered the possible outcomes. No. His men needed to remain focused on removing the crates of weapons.

Returning his attention to MacKay, Natchaba cut the corridor lights. While it eliminated his view of MacKay—the infrared system had been scheduled to be installed next month—it would slow the man down. His men needed a few more minutes to finish carrying the boxes out to his SUV.

He did a quick check of his office, confirming that everything he needed to set up at another base had been removed. Because he’d always understood that the place where he stored his weapons would be a target for his enemies, he kept most of his business records at his main office.

Reassured that he had not forgotten anything, he set the box of explosive mobile phones on top of the boxes stacked on the final hand cart, then scrolled one last time through the video feeds on his laptop. The government forces were now engaged with his men in the jungle behind the rear exit, but the rest of his men had managed to get several lorries past the fighting already.

But at the front door… He frowned. The government forces had set up a missile launcher. What did they expect to—