With everyone’s attention fixed on Jackson, Sam edged out from behind the generator, just as he cut down one of the men covering the Koreans. Quickly deciding that she should add to the mayhem, Sam brought down another guard before ducking back behind the generator.
As another guard fell, Colonel Hwan knew that it was time to act. He called out to his men to rush the remainder of the guards. Four men fell under the withering scythe of automatic gunfire before the desperate North Koreans could overwhelm the two remaining guards covering them. Ordering his men to arm themselves, Hwan and his men took cover where they could amongst the rocks and began to fire onto Cypher’s men huddled at the base of the stairs on the opposite side of the cave.
Mitchell took in a deep breath of air. His lungs felt like they were on fire. The crescendo of gunfire ricocheting off the cavern walls was all around him. He dashed for Jackson’s overturned table, dove over it, and rolled over on his shoulder. He saw Daniel and Atsuko lying on the ground with their hands over their heads.
“You didn’t say anything about having to break out from a cave,” said Jackson as he tossed Mitchell one of the dead guards’ carbines.
Mitchell checked that there was a round in the chamber. “No one said it was going to be easy.”
Jackson let off a quick burst, dropping a guard trying to make his way in the gloom toward Sam’s hiding spot.
“Okay, what’s the skinny?” asked Mitchell.
“You’re gonna love it. We’ve got a real Mexican standoff happening here. The North Koreans have taken up a position off to our left among the rocks while Cypher’s men are using the machinery at the bottom of the stairs for cover. And of course, there’s us in the middle with Sam a few meters away using a generator to hide behind.”
Mitchell popped his head up and took a quick look around. “Forget the Koreans. Our real enemy here is Cypher’s goons. They are keeping the stairs open so he can escape when the time comes.”
Bullets tore into the rock behind their position, showering Jackson and Mitchell with bits of rocky debris. Mitchell brought up his carbine into his shoulder and with a smirk on his face shot down Cypher’s blonde-haired thug as he tried to sneak up on their makeshift potion.
Jackson placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Keep your head down. We’ll soon be out of here.”
“If you say so, Dad,” replied Daniel, wishing that he was anywhere else in the world but the cavern.
Crawling over to the body of the guard Jackson had killed with his keys, he first rummaged around under the man’s jacket until he found a fresh magazine. Jackson then reached over and pulled his keys out of the bloody wound. He wiped the blood-soaked keys on his pants before moving over by his son. He pressed a small button on the side of a remote starter. A skeleton key sprung out. While Mitchell kept the guards engaged, Jackson worked to open the handcuffs on Daniel’s wrists. After less than five seconds’ work, the handcuffs slipped free. After ordering his son to keep down, Jackson popped up beside Mitchell and let loose a burst into the general area of the stairs where the guards were holed up. If he didn’t hit anyone, he reasoned that he could keep their heads down for a while until Mitchell figured a way out.
With a bitter shake of his head, Mitchell could see that the fight was too one-sided. There were at least twice as many of Cypher’s men as there were North Koreans. The sounds of battle were deafening inside the cavern, as men sought to kill one another in order to survive, even if it were for only a few more minutes of precious life. The rate of fire from the Koreans’ position was beginning to slacken as more men fell under the withering fire of the guards. Mitchell knew that it wouldn’t be long before the guards gained the upper hand completely. He had to find a way to even the odds. He glanced around. A plan sprung to life in Mitchell’s mind like a light switch being turned on.
“Cover me,” said Mitchell to Jackson as he darted from behind their cover, weaving from side to side, dodging gunfire as he quickly made his way over to a worktable covered in tools.
Coming to a sliding halt underneath the table, Mitchell got up on one knee and quickly took stock of what was on the table. When he saw nothing but tools and little else of value to make an expedient bomb, Mitchell swore under his breath. He turned around and pushed several empty crates aside as he desperately looked for something to use. He was growing worried when he saw the answer to his prayers. Sitting on a trolley was a half-full bag of ANFO.
Used in mining, Mitchell surmised that the North Koreans who built the derrick must have used it in small quantities to clear away the stalactites from around the area where they were working. He reached back up onto the table and grabbed everything he could and then jammed it deep inside the bag of ANFO.
He pulled open a sealed wooden crate lying on the ground beside the trolley and found blasting caps and det-cord. He quickly cut a small piece of det-cord, jammed it into the blasting cap and then placed the cap inside the expedient bomb. Not being a smoker, Mitchell never carried a lighter on him. He crawled back to the table and rummaged around until he found a pack of matches. Thank God, the Koreans were heavy smokers, flashed through Mitchell’s mind as he crawled back over to his homemade bomb. Moving the trolley as quietly as he could through the shadows until he could see a group of guards firing away at the Koreans, Mitchell got down on one knee, lit the fuse, and then pushed the trolley as hard as he could toward his target.
He threw himself to the ground. Mitchell started to count back from ten in his mind. He only got as far as four when his bomb detonated in an ear-shattering explosion. Jagged pieces of metal and tools flew through the air. The four closest thugs to the blast were cut down in the blink of an eye, torn to bloody shreds by the flying debris. Several more men farther back received shrapnel wounds to their upper bodies; none regrettably were wounded enough to quit fighting.
Mitchell saw that his bomb had evened things out a bit. He scurried back on all fours and quickly disappeared from view, hidden in the shadows. He made his way back to Jackson and saw that his friend was running low on ammunition. No one, the guards included, had expected a long firefight.
“We can’t keep this up much longer,” said Jackson, conserving his ammo.
“I know,” observed Mitchell.
Mitchell placed a hand on Atsuko’s shoulder. “What is Cypher doing? Why hasn’t he tried to make a run for it while he still can?”
Atsuko looked up into Mitchell’s blue-gray eyes. She took a breath to calm her racing heart. “He’s programming the detonation sequence into the bomb. Normally, this takes several minutes to accomplish.”
“Then we still have time.”
“Time to do what?” said Jackson.
“To stop him from setting off that bomb and killing thousands of innocent people,” said Mitchell firmly.
“Just how the hell are you going to get to him? You’d never make it across the open ground before being cut down.”
“Sam got in here, there has to be a way around. You stay with Daniel and Atsuko. I’ll be back before you know it.”
Before Jackson could open his mouth, Mitchell was on the move, sprinting over to where Sam was hiding.
“Damn fool’s gonna get himself killed,” muttered Jackson to himself. He was about to tell Atsuko to crawl back a bit and take cover behind a large boulder when she reached over, grabbed the discarded handcuffs off the ground, and then like a sprinter she ran after Mitchell.