Chapter 5 #2
“Well, yeah! I’m not even fucking sure if I should slap you, blow you, or kiss you right now. It’s all so fucking confusing!”
“I vote for those last two on your list,” Hayes said, with a mischievous smile that he’d stolen right out of Beckett’s playbook.
With a choked laugh, Beckett tackled Hayes and began tugging off his clothes. His boyfriend chuckled like that had been his plan all along.
“Team Five, come in.” The radio on Beckett’s hip crackled to life. He sat up quickly, abandoning his efforts to get Hayes naked. He pressed the open channel button and cleared his throat. “Team Five to command, go ahead.”
“We think we might have spotted the thieves crossing back over the border. We’re remaining in position out of caution, but if nothing happens, we’re packing it in tomorrow morning.
” Beckett recognized Cho’s voice and had to bite back a smartassed response that he had at the ready just to fuck with her.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said politely. “Roger that command.” It really chapped his ass to have to follow procedure with her, but he needed to stay chill. Besides, it looked as if he only had one more day of dealing with her sorry ass anyway.
“Do you need anything?” Someone else, not Cho, asked him in a friendly tone.
“You know what? A bottle of bourbon and a deck of cards would be nice,” he replied humorously.
“We’ll see you in the morning,” Cho’s voice replied—ah, so she’d been listening the whole time after all. Bitch.
“Team Five out.” Beckett broke the connection with a vicious twist of the radio dial.
Hayes snorted in amusement.
By 3:00 a.m., Beckett was fighting to stay awake to keep watch.
Next to him, Hayes was tossing and turning.
He’d dropped off to sleep remarkably quickly right after his watch ended, but his sleep didn’t look all that restful as he moved around in his sleeping bag, mumbling inarticulately.
Beckett was on the verge of waking him up when he heard a strange sound.
The crypt was always quiet. They were so far underground that no sounds from the upper levels could be heard.
Occasionally they could hear scratching—most likely caused by mice seeking protection from the harsh winter conditions.
But rodents wouldn’t generate a noise that loud.
He grabbed his Glock, clicked the safety off, and got to his feet silently.
The sleeping area and connecting hallway were kept dark on purpose.
If anyone did come through a tunnel, seeing light in the middle of the night would surely deter them from entering the crypt.
He flipped his night vision goggles down and over his eyes, blinking as he adjusted to the phosphorus green light, and clicked open the communications channel.
“Team Five to command. Strange noise in the crypt. Investigating now,” he whispered into the mic. He nudged Hayes gently in the shoulder and as soon as his partner sat up—instantly alert—Beckett touched his finger to his lips for silence.
Hayes was like a cat, standing up gracefully and silently. He put on his own pair of night vision goggles and turned them on. Beckett signaled for him to cover his six and they headed down the corridor.
“Proceed with caution,” command answered in his ear. “Apprehend only, do not shoot to kill,” the person added, and yeah—Beckett had already received that particular memo.
The peculiar noise echoed through the tunnel again, not unlike that of sand rubbing against solid rock.
Or like that of someone grinding spices using a mortar and pestle.
But he couldn’t identify the point of origin.
He looked back towards Hayes, pointing to his ear and shrugged, hoping Hayes would be able to interpret what he meant.
Hayes stopped, tilting his head and listening carefully.
It was quiet for a second, and then, there it was again—but louder this time, and off to their right.
Beckett took off running—light on the balls of his feet.
He breathed silently as he headed down the long tunnel lined with coffins on both sides, constantly scanning the walls for any anomalies in their construction.
He came up empty but then he heard the sound again.
He was about to turn around after examining the entire secondary chamber, when something caught his eye on the right-hand wall.
He turned towards it, finding one of the plaques on the wall in motion.
He ducked right, seeking cover to get out of direct line of sight, gesturing for Hayes to do the same.
He pressed himself as tightly as possible against the wall.
There was nowhere else to hide. Hopefully the pervasive darkness of the crypt would afford them a measure of invisibility.
It was like something out of an Indiana Jones movie. Suddenly, an entire section of the wall partially collapsed and exposed a large opening. Moments later, three men clambered out, complaining loudly, looking exhausted as they set their small camping lanterns on the ground.
Beckett and Hayes switched off their night vision goggles and waited until all three men were standing in a semi-circle before they moved in.
“Hands up and no one dies,” Hayes commanded coldly.
Beckett assumed they’d cooperate. But in a truly startling display of idiocy, one of them turned and lunged back towards the opening in the wall.
“What the actual fuck?” Beckett reached for the guy who had one foot sticking out of the wall as he struggled to get his body to fit back through the opening.
“Hands up!” Hayes yelled at the other two men who then quickly decided to cooperate.
Beckett kept Hayes in his peripheral vision, just in case one of them tried something stupid. Firmly grasping the ankle of the idiot trying to escape, he yanked as hard as he could.
The man cursed viciously as he was dragged backwards and Beckett dropped him onto the ground like a sack of potatoes.
“Please!” One of the guys Hayes was guarding began to beg. “Think about it! One million dollars—just for letting us go. That’s a hell of a—”
“Shut up!” Hayes snapped angrily. Wisely, the blithering idiot fell silent.
At Beckett’s feet, the idiot who’d tried to escape was whimpering and holding his hand against his chest protectively. “I think you broke my wrist!”
“Ah, shucks! Guess that’s gonna hurt when I put you in handcuffs,” Beckett informed him with a sadistic laugh. “Get on your knees, sunshine!” he barked. He gave his captive a swift kick in the ass to encourage his compliance.
As soon as all three prisoners were handcuffed, Beckett radioed command. “Team Five to command. Please be advised we have three men in custody. No sign of the other two suspects.”
While waiting for command to respond, Beckett noticed one of the idiots staring at the tunnel he’d just come through. He was shaking his head in barely discernible movements. Had Beckett not been closely monitoring their prisoners, he’d have missed it.
“They’re still in the tunnels,” Beckett hissed as he realized the significance of that guy’s body language. The bastard was signaling to the other suspects. He rushed towards the hole in the wall, leaning in and squinting into the darkness.
“Roger, Team Five. Stay put. We have—”
But then Beckett saw a quick movement, like someone attempting to hide behind a wall.
“They’re in the tunnels!” Beckett yelled at Hayes. He jumped through the opening, ducking his head because of the low ceiling.
“Thérault!” Hayes called out in consternation.
“Stay with the three dumbketeers!” he shouted over his shoulder as he headed deeper into the narrow passage.
“Are you insane? You’re completely exposed!” Hayes barked angrily, rushing to the opening to try to call him back, but Beckett was a man on a mission.
Beckett figured Hayes must have realized that he had no intentions of turning back when he heard a burst of static behind him, indicating that Hayes was contacting command with an update.
“Agent Thérault is in pursuit inside the tunnels. I repeat—agent in pursuit inside the tunnels.”
Hayes’ strong disapproval came through loud and clear. It was a sure bet that Beckett was going to get an earful when he made it back. He’d better get ready to grovel—or to suck Hayes’ dick like it was his day job.
The tunnel the three thieves had broken out of appeared to be a small section branching off from a main tunnel.
As he approached the connecting point, Beckett was surprised to find the main tunnels were all nearly twice the size of the one he’d been navigating.
Fortunately, the main tunnels had intermittently spaced, low-wattage lights in them, so he no longer needed his night vision goggles to see.
Emerging into a main tunnel, he looked in both directions.
He didn’t see any signs of the two thieves.
With a frustrated curse, he checked the clip of his Glock out of habit.
Hayes had been right about the issue of exposure.
The tunnel was barren. If a firefight broke out, he would be in a shit ton of trouble.
He listened for any sounds and studied the ground for footprints indicating where they’d gone.
He had just resorted to flipping an imaginary coin to decide which way to go when he heard the sound of fabric brushing against rock off to his right.
Very quietly, he took off running, checking for any openings in the walls where someone could hide.
He'd gone a short distance when the unmistakeable sound of a gun firing had him dropping and rolling out of habit.
Bullets whizzed past him as he flattened himself against the ground.
“You don’t want to do that,” Beckett called out in warning as he searched for the shooter. “You’ll get a couple of years—maybe a decade if you’re unlucky. Shooting a federal agent—that’ll earn you a permanent residency card and a subscription to ‘don’t drop the soap’!”