Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Twelve minutes.
The mechanical voice looped in Quinn’s head, the math quickly stacking up. If his calculations were correct, they only had five minutes to find their way back to the main shaft before any hope of escaping Pryce’s protocol shattered.
He took a breath, calming his mind, shoving his crushing pain into a box he could open once they’d escaped. “There’s got to be a way back. Hackett didn’t follow us. He used another route. Any chance it’s back the way you just came?”
Scout shook her head. “It only leads deeper into the mountain.” She jogged ahead, scanning the next junction. “Did you try down here?”
Quinn joined her, keeping Brea in his peripheral vision. He’d noticed that Scout had given his sister her spare Beretta, which meant the situation must have gotten pretty dire. “I was going to head that way next if this direction didn’t pan out.” He nudged her. “Your gut telling you something?”
She pointed to the string of dingy lights swaying near the ceiling. “No one lights a tunnel they don’t plan on using more than once.”
A punch of pride warmed his chest. “Like I said, lead the way.”
Scout hesitated for a second, staring down the passageway as if trying to see all the way to the end — guarantee their success.
Quinn sighed. “It’s our best guess. So, stop worrying if this is gonna save us or condemn us and get us back to that damn shaft.”
With a hint of a smile, she took off, quickstepping down the tunnel, rifle at the ready. He hadn’t missed the blood on her arm, or the hits to her vest. What she’d likely got protecting Brea. A debt he’d forever owe her.
The lights flickered, temporarily plunging the corridor into utter darkness before surging back, a couple bulbs shattering as the current fluctuated, spraying glass and filament across the path.
Scout kept moving, ignoring any offshoots as the passage gradually gained elevation, the temperature cooling slightly.
The air thickened as smoke swirled through the tunnel, reducing the visibility to mere inches.
Nothing more than the golden glow above them burning the vapor into a deep amber.
That emotionless voice began broadcasting the countdown every minute as they reached another junction, lights branching off in two directions, both filled with the same choking smoke.
Scout paused, looking down both, neither revealing more than a foot of rocky floor before she angled left and picked up speed.
The path narrowed, rising sharply before leveling off, diesel exhaust and sulfur burning a line down Quinn’s throat. He watched their six, ready to fire if any of Hackett’s men suddenly appeared out of the smoke-riddled darkness when Scout stopped.
A thick, metal door barred their way, a fried keypad sparking off to one side.
She shouldered it, shaking her head. “No way this is moving without help. And we don’t have time to worry about the consequences.” She grabbed a frag, pulled the pin, then motioned them all back.
The canister spun once, resting against the door before it blew, spraying rock and dust back at them. The door heaved, metal scraping rock as it toppled inward, landing with a thundering crash.
Scout darted ahead, disappearing into the smoking remains, nothing sounding but the lingering echo of the blast. Quinn didn’t wait to see if it was clear, just grabbed Brea, tucked her behind him, and raced forward, Sig sweeping the way.
The tunnel gave way to eerie sterile glass, a series of grooves carved down the sides of a couple panels.
Scout waved him on, heading for the next junction as another massive boom shook the floor beneath them.
The temperature spiked. Cracks crept along several panels as the lights flickered again before stabilizing at half-strength.
Quinn recognized the first section of the west wing as Scout hurried them along, stopping just before the main airlock. She held up her fist, motioning to the multiple flashlights cutting through the gray. The collection of shadows moving within that golden smoke.
Protocol Zero activated. Thermal purge initiated in T minus eight minutes.
Scout looked at Quinn, and he waved her ahead, sticking on her six, readying for the fight as they burst through the doors, fingers caressing triggers, until Neve shouted, appearing in front of them a heartbeat later.
The rest of her team materialized out of the smoke, blood staining their clothes and soot and dirt smeared across their skin.
Scout’s head tipped back, her hushed prayer of thanks reaching him as they broke into the adjoining tunnel, quickly backtracking to the main shaft. The old industrial elevator car sat a bit cockeyed, the door still open, the way they’d left it.
Coulter reached the cage first, trying the switch, jumping back when sparks erupted from the panel. Smoke curled into the air as the lights all blinked white then died. He tried again, nothing but more smoke. “Battery’s dead.”
Quinn headed for the main box on the far wall. “I’ll try to bypass it.”
Coulter joined him, the two of them ripping off panels and stripping wires.
Quinn’s ribs screamed, his chest heavier than before, as if nothing was working quite right.
But he pushed through. If they didn’t get the machine running in the next ninety seconds, they’d never make it to the surface before the thermal purge activated — sanitized the entire infrastructure.
Quinn tore a strip of cable out of the panel, connecting the elevator’s winch directly to a set of batteries mounted to the wall labeled as emergency backup only.
The power kicked in as a shower of blue sparks erupted from the wires and an agonizing shriek echoed through the air. The massive steel cable pulled taut, the old, rusted winch grinding under the strain, as the cart slowly righted itself, the main cage lifting off the bedrock.
Scout’s teammates jumped inside, Quinn and Coulter clearing the twelve-inch gap as the machine inched upward, the metal cable screeching and groaning.
Quinn grabbed Scout’s hand, holding it tight, needing that connection in case they ran out of time.
More explosions rocked through the mountain, parts of the shaft crumbling around them from the force.
Heat poured out from beneath the stone, smoke funneling up the shaft, flames already licking at the rock below them.
The heavy cage jolted, shaking violently as it slowly ascended, occasionally stopping for a moment as if catching its breath before lurching ahead.
The minutes ticked by, each foot a grueling battle against time and gravity.
Protocol Zero activated. Thermal purge initiated in T minus three minutes.
Coulter looked down, shaking his head as the flames engulfed the docking bay, the orange writhing mass already climbing the walls. “It’s gonna be close.”
Quinn rolled his eyes. “You Spec Op types always so positive?”
“It’s one of my best qualities.”
“I’ll remember that.” He tightened his grip on the wire mesh when the cage shook, one side dipping lower for a few moments before catching up.
Two minutes.
The voice sounded distant, muffled, half the words lost to the roar of the fire, the steady rumblings inside the complex. Super-heated air rushed up the chimney, singeing the hairs on Quinn’s arms as it encapsulated the cage, choked out most of the useable air.
Above, a shaft of lighter gray pierced the smoke, the surface only a minute away as the temperature continued to rise, those flames gathering strength.
One minute…
They neared the top, the cement rim only ten feet away when an agonizing shriek tore through the air, the winch grinding to a halt. The cage shook, hanging there for a moment before dropping five feet, brakes smoking and sparking. The cable looked as if it was a bad twist away from snapping.
The sudden jolt had dropped them onto their asses, the sharp movement stealing Quinn’s breath as his broken ribs ground together, reminding him he’d be lucky to walk to the SUV let alone climb.
Coulter scrambled to his feet, jumping up and hooking his fingers around the edge of the hatch, pulling himself up and through. He vanished for a moment, then stuck his head through the opening. “Motor’s fried and the cable’s frayed.”
That was all he needed to say to mobilize the group. Neve cupped her hands, giving Brea a boost up and out the hatch, Coulter lifting from above. Zadie and Wynn went next, both making it look easy before Scout took Neve’s place, shaking her head when Neve tried to argue.
Neve sighed, placed her boot in Scout’s hands then shot up, Coulter reaching back down a second later. Scout waved Quinn on, mouth set, eyes narrowed. The kind of look that said she wasn’t taking no for an answer.
He followed suit, smothering all but a harsh grunt as he heaved himself up, accepting Coulter’s help. Coulter arched a brow but pointed to the rusty ladder the others were already climbing.
Scout popped up a moment later, Coulter barely breathing hard as he grabbed a rung, started up. Quinn joined Scout, insisting she go next, not wanting his injuries to slow her down. She huffed but followed Coulter giving Quinn enough room to wrap his good arm around the ladder to catch his balance.
He took a step, his other boot still on the top of the cage when the cable snapped, whipping down around them, ripping the right side of the ladder off the wall as the car dropped, plummeting into the rising smoke just as that timer hit zero, and the purge activated.
Massive explosions rocked through the mine as the cage vanished into the flames, crashing on the rocky floor a few seconds later. Fire curled around it, the flames forming a seething fireball that belched upward, surging up the shaft like a tidal wave.
Quinn kicked at the air, his right arm still not functioning properly, his ribs cutting off any hope of dragging in a breath. Streaks sliced across his vision, as the walls quickly closed in on him.
Scout grabbed the handle on his vest, heaving him up a rung, the right side of the ladder clattering against the rock as it teetered and swayed, threatening to completely drop at a moment’s notice.
He got his right arm working, holding him long enough to move his left up, using it to brace most of his weight.
Below, the fireball doubled, the sudden expansion of gases from inside the complex feeding it more fuel. It roared up the shaft, faster than before, engulfing everything in its wake, vaporizing the water still spitting out from the rock.
Scout yelled at him to move, still pulling from above as they cleared the rim, smoke pouring out with them.
Coulter hooked each of their arms, yanking them the last foot before tumbling backwards, pulling them clear of the opening just as a geyser of fire and pulverized rock erupted from the shaft like a volcano.
It rose twenty feet into the air, burning the night into a warm orange before it slowly dissipated into a scattering of embers floating onto the grass.
More thunder sounded from beneath the earth, parts of the main shaft cracking and falling into the flames.
Quinn collapsed in the dirt, chest heaving, all that pain he’d boxed away surging forward, robbing his next breath as heat burned through his ribs. Groaning, he shifted, holding his side as Scout pushed onto an elbow, brow furrowed, mouth pinched tight.
She reached for his vest, tearing at the Velcro straps — pulling the sides apart before lifting his shirt. “Jesus. Wynn…”
Wynn dropped down beside them, shaking her head as she stared at his side. “What the hell hit you?”
Quinn grimaced, panting through the worst of the pain. “Hackett’s fist.”
Wynn froze. “Hackett did that? With only his fist?” She didn’t wait for him to answer, frowning when he grunted as she moved his arm. “He hit your arm, too?”
“Dislocated it. But I popped it back in. It’s fine.”
“Bullshit. Though, it can wait until we’re back at the bunker. These ribs…” She shook her head again. “I’ll wrap them so you can at least move, but Darwin’s gonna want to do x-rays or an ultrasound. Sideline you until you can breathe without the pain knocking you out.”
He pushed onto his ass, gritting his teeth as she wrapped his torso, the resulting ache eventually fading enough that he was able to stand without face-planting. Wynn turned to Scout, but she waved her away.
Wynn crossed her arms. “That’s a bullet wound.”
Scout nodded. “Which isn’t that bad and can wait until we’re home. We need to get moving before Quinn’s SAR buddies show up.”
Quinn shrugged. “I don’t know. A chopper ride sounds pretty nice…”
His voice trailed off as a low growl surged through the settling dust. He stared down the mountain, scanning the hillside as headlights cut through the tree line, a couple vehicles rounding the far bend, heading their way. Gravel crunched beneath tires, dirt and mud spraying out the sides.
He grabbed Scout’s hand, digging in his pouch for the car keys. “Call me crazy, but I doubt that’s my SAR buddies.”
Scout shook her head. “Pretty sure we’ve seen those SUVs before.”
“We should be running. Now.”
“There’s just one problem.” Scout met his gaze. “There’s only one road out, and they’re on it.”