Mitchell felt himself being dragged to the wet ground.
Less than five seconds later, an ear-shattering explosion filled the air.
Mitchell watched as the old, rusted door flew up into the air, spinning end over end before landing with a thud in the wet field.
“I told you to get down,” said Nate to Mitchell as he let go of his friend.
“I never heard you,” said Mitchell, realizing that his attention had been so focused on the MI-8 that he never heard his friend’s warnings.
“Come on, we gotta go before that helicopter gets here,” said Jackson as he helped Mitchell up onto his feet.
The smoke from the blast had barely cleared when Yuri bolted for the entrance, closely followed by Jackson and Mitchell.
Behind them, the sound of the helicopter’s rotor blades grew louder by the second.
Yuri reached the entrance and saw a set of metal stairs leading down into the darkened tunnel. Without bothering to stop, he leaped straight down, landing on his feet. Bending his knees to take the impact, he rolled over and came up with his rifle in his hands.
The sound of a machine gun tearing through the air filled Mitchell’s mind with fear. Adrenaline raced through his body. When he saw Jackson begin to slow down, Mitchell placed a hand on his friend’s back and pushed him into the tunnel entrance. Without stopping, Mitchell scooped up his abandoned pack and assault rifle and then jumped in, following Jackson down into the dark just as a hail of machine-gun bullets shredded the ground behind them.
A second later, with a loud moan, Mitchell landed hard. Only he wasn’t on the floor of the tunnel. Mitchell realized that he had landed on top of Jackson, who lay in a heap on the cold concrete floor of the tunnel.
“Get off me,” said Jackson, through gritted teeth. “You may not think so, but with all that gear on, you weigh a ton.”
“Sorry,” said Mitchell as he rolled off Jackson and onto the cold concrete floor.
Mitchell looked down the length of the tunnel. He couldn’t see how far the pitch-black tunnel went. It was like looking into a tomb. With a shudder running down his back, Mitchell stood up and then helped Jackson to his feet.
“Come on, we have to get going,” said Yuri. “They’ll be coming for us.”
Mitchell reached into his pack and brought out the handheld mine detector. Yuri and Jackson turned on the flashlights attached underneath their rifles, illuminating the way ahead. Mitchell took the lead. He walked as fast as he dared while he searched for the booby traps he was sure were hidden somewhere deep inside the tunnel complex.
In the dark, death patiently waited for them.
35
The instant the MI-8’s wheels touched ground, the side door flung open. The first person out was Tara, accompanied by two more of Cypher’s female assassins. All three women were dressed in military-style camouflage uniforms. Held tight in their hands were German-made Heckler and Koch MP-5s. Ignoring the swirling vortex of loose debris thrown up by the helicopter’s powerful engine, the women advanced with military precision, their weapons trained on the tunnel entrance. Using hand signals only, the women warily made their way through the muddy field until they stood over the opening. Both women with Tara were Asian. They had the hard look on their faces of people who had killed and weren’t afraid of the job that lay ahead. One had very short black hair while the other had a long ponytail that hung down her back. Pointing at the shorthaired woman, Tara stepped back while she dug out a hand grenade from her vest, pulled the safety pin, and then tossed it down into the tunnel. All three women dove for the ground. A couple of seconds later, the grenade went off, sending thousands of tiny metal shards flying through the tunnel and up into the air at the entrance. If Mitchell and his people had still been there, they would have all been killed by the blast.
Tara knew that Mitchell and his people would be long gone. Still, better to be safe than sorry. With a snap of her fingers, the two women leaped up onto their feet and then quickly disappeared down into the tunnel. The sound of a couple of quick bursts shot down the tunnel, cutting through the air.
“All clear,” shouted up one of the women.
“All clear,” called out Tara, letting the women know that she had heard them.
Tara looked over her shoulder and watched as Atsuko and five men from Cypher’s security detachment walked over to her. She could see in Atsuko’s eyes that she knew something was up. Tara grinned. With five men to guard her, Cypher’s plaything had no chance of leaving the island alive.
Atsuko could smell the cordite wafting in the air. She was dressed in a pair of old blue jeans with a black Gore-Tex jacket on her back to keep the rain out.
“Did you kill them?” asked Atsuko as she stopped alongside Tara.
“Hardly. It won’t be that easy,” replied Tara. “They’ve taken off into the tunnel system. It won’t help them, though. Like a bunch of rats trapped in a maze, we’ll track them down and then kill them one by one.”
“Then why do you need me?”
“You’ve read more about this island and its tunnels than I have. I need you to help us find Mitchell and the others before they find a way off this island.”
Atsuko nodded. She didn’t believe a word. She knew that she wasn’t leaving the island alive. With a mix of anger and sadness in her heart, she finally had to admit to herself that Cypher had never loved her and that she had been used by him and was now going to die for her foolishness.
“Let’s go,” said Tara as she climbed down into the tunnel.
Hesitantly, Atsuko stepped to the opening and peered down. It was like looking down into an open grave… her grave.
Placing a firm hand on her shoulder, one of Cypher’s goons shoved her forward.
Atsuko tried her best not to show the fear that gripped her as she placed her feet onto the metal ladder and began to climb down into the ground. As the world above disappeared from view, Atsuko realized that her only hope of seeing the sun rise another day lay in the men they were here to kill.
With Tara and her trained killers in the lead, Atsuko walked reluctantly sandwiched between Cypher’s men.
One mercenary stopped at the tunnel entrance, waiting in case Mitchell and his friends somehow made their way back.
He dug out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. He sat back and inhaled. With a bored look on his face, the man looked down at his watch and guessed that they would be back on their chopper and on their way home in less than an hour.
36
The sound of the grenade exploding quickly followed by the short bursts of automatic weapons firing reverberated down the long, dark tunnel. Mitchell, Jackson, and Yuri had turned a sharp corner in the tunnel seconds before the attack, protecting them from the deadly hail of bullets and shrapnel.
Mitchell undid his jacket to let the cool air in the tunnel onto his sweating skin. He knew that he was moving too slow. Their attackers would soon begin making their way down the passageway. If they didn’t find the tunnel they were looking for, they would have to turn and fight. He didn’t relish the prospect of engaging in a firefight inside a tunnel with absolutely nowhere that they could take cover.
“How much farther do we have to go?” asked Jackson.
Mitchell bit his lip. It was the one question he knew he couldn’t answer. “Nate, I have no idea. The map we have isn’t to scale. We could be mere meters away from the room we are looking for, or we could still be kilometers away.”