Chapter 24
The group pushed deeper into the tunnels, their flashlights cutting through the oppressive darkness. The faint sounds of voices ahead made them freeze, backs pressing against the cold stone walls. Champion held up a hand, signaling for silence, as the group listened intently.
Two guards were stationed near the steel door at the end of the narrow passage, their voices low but audible in the still air.
“…less than three hours now,” one of them said, his words sending a jolt through Charlotte’s chest.
“He’s crazy for trying to pull this off tonight,” the other guard replied. “The storm, these people poking around… it’s a mess. The fucking snow hasn’t even stopped yet. What kind of pictures are they going to get in the fucking snow?”
The first guard grunted. “Sarkisyan doesn’t care. He’s put too much into this job. He’ll blow this place sky-high before he lets anyone stop him.”
Charlotte exchanged a look with Tom, her stomach sinking. Less than three hours. That was all the time they had to stop Sarkisyan and prevent him from framing her family.
Champion motioned for the group to move back down the passage, retreating far enough that their whispers wouldn’t carry. His face was grim as he turned to the others. “We can’t take them out now without drawing attention. We wait until they leave.”
“How long?” Austin asked, his tone impatient.
“Could be an hour,” Champion said, his gaze hard. “They won’t stick around forever.”
Tom frowned. “And if they stay?”
“They won’t,” Champion replied firmly. “Sarkisyan’s too focused on the timeline. He’ll want all hands on deck at the harbor soon.”
The group settled in as best they could, tension thick in the air. Charlotte leaned against the wall, her flashlight clutched tightly in her hand. The weight of the situation pressed down on her, every passing second a reminder of the clock ticking toward disaster.
The faint sound of footsteps in the distance made her heart leap. She turned just as Cowboy appeared, his silhouette illuminated by the glow of a flashlight. Relief and frustration washed over her in equal measure.
“You’re supposed to be resting,” she whispered harshly as he approached.
“Resting while Sarkisyan blows up the island? Not a chance,” Cowboy replied, his grin sharp despite the bruises on his face. “What’s the plan?”
Champion quickly filled him in, his voice low. “We’ve got guards near the door. They mentioned less than three hours until the bombs detonate, maybe 45 minutes ago. We wait until they leave, then we rescue Deke and Booger.”
Cowboy’s expression darkened. “Not much time ‘till somebody yells BINGO.”
“It’s all we’ve got,” Champion replied. “Once we get them out, we hit the harbor and take Sarkisyan down.”
Cowboy nodded, settling in with the rest of the group. Charlotte moved closer to him, her voice soft. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”
He gave her a look, his tone firm. “I’m not sitting this one out.”
She wanted to argue but knew it would be pointless. Instead, she leaned her head against his shoulder for a moment, drawing strength from his presence. “Okay. Don’t make me regret letting you stay.”
“I won’t,” he promised, and she could feel him smile at her implication that she could control him. That wasn’t what their relationship was about, for either of them. “Just a few flurries outside, now.”
She leaned back and took in his eyes, knowing their golden caramel color by heart, even if she couldn’t see them in the darkness. “Think the worst of the storm is over?”
“I do.”
Gesturing to the door with her chin, she said, “The guards were talking about not being able to get good pictures if it was snowing too much. I wonder what that’s about.”
Cowboy cocked his head, a noncommital, “Hmm,” his only response, but Charlotte’s comment unnerved him more than anything anyone else had said. They were on a tiny island with few—if any—other residents to see the lighthouse explode.
It wasn’t ridiculous to think a terrorist group would want evidence of the destruction for themselves, but he knew it wouldn’t stop there.
They wanted photos for the media. Photos for recruitment.
Proof of responsibility, and proof of the havoc they could wreek on a serene and beautiful piece of an iconic American coast.
Because they wanted to dismantle Americans’ sense of safety, and he’d be damned if he’d allow these sons of bitches to do that.
The minutes dragged by, each one feeling like an eternity.
The guards’ voices faded in and out as they talked, their conversation peppered with grumbling about the storm and the tediousness of their job.
Finally, the sound of footsteps signaled their departure, the guards’ voices retreating down the tunnel.
“Now,” Champion said, rising to his feet. The group moved quickly but cautiously, their flashlights trained on the steel door.
Champion examined the padlock, pulling out the small pry bar. Cowboy and Austin kept watch, their weapons ready, while Charlotte hovered nearby, her nerves thrumming with anticipation.
It took longer than she would have liked, but the lock finally gave way. The door creaked open, revealing Deke and Booger slumped against the wall inside, the harsh light of an LED lantern illuminating their bodies like deer in the headlights. Both men looked up, their faces pale but alert.
“Took you long enough,” Deke muttered, though his relief was clear.
“We got tacos,” said Booger.
“Couldn’t let you two have all the fun,” Cowboy shot back, stepping into the room.
As Champion and Austin cut their restraints, Booger’s voice was urgent. “He’s moving fast. The bombs are already set. Two hours until detonation.”
“We heard,” Champion said grimly. “You two ready to move?”
“Born ready,” Deke said, though he winced as he stood. Booger leaned heavily against the wall but nodded.
“Good,” Champion said. “We hit the harbor next. Sarkisyan’s not getting away with this.”
Charlotte’s heart pounded as they regrouped and headed back into the tunnels.
The clock was ticking, and every second brought them closer to a confrontation with Sarkisyan—and the chance to stop him for good.
The sudden and—she believed—irrational thought that she should sit this one out in case she was pregnant, damn near stopped her cold.
She shook her head to clear it, and continued on her way.