The temptation was to check the cells and then the rooms beyond. She wondered what lay behind those banks of windows and what made the captives scream. She wondered why they needed strapping down. The communications room, if anywhere, would be at the far end or possibly in the guards’ quarters.
But she could best help them by staying free. She crossed over to the window and exited the lab building, dropped to the soft grass and crouched in silence. She was about to move away softly when the crunch of heavy footsteps sounded nearby.
“A heavy bastard,” someone muttered in Korean. “This should not be our job.”
“Stop complaining. Our leader says it is our job. Then it is our job. You never complain when it’s a woman.”
A throaty chuckle made Mai’s blood boil. She knew immediately what was happening. Judging by the footsteps and grunting, there were at least three guards dragging a captive along between them. The captive sounded barely alive, grunting when the men kicked him. Most likely the man she had heard the two doctors discussing.
Mai let the guards find a forest path that they’d obviously trodden before. On stealthy feet she followed, closing in with every step. By the time the guards reached a small clearing dominated by over a dozen irregular mounds, she was a fast leap away.
The complainer let go of his captive’s head, letting it smash to the stony ground with a thud. He laughed, then out of the corner of his eye, must have seen a shadow move.
Mai didn’t hesitate. The guards might well be missed, but Drake, the marines and this poor man were her priority, and what she’d already seen proved that they needed to quickly escape this island.
She lashed out with her foot, caught the complainer right in the jugular. He gurgled, coughed, and fell to the ground hacking, but with his windpipe crushed, he wasn’t about to be more of a problem. The other guards spun toward her. Mai ran lightly, leapt off the ground and connected solidly with the first’s chest, sending him tumbling head over heels across the terrible mounds he had no doubt helped build. The third reached for a weapon, but again Mai was lightning quick. She stepped in close, caught his wrist and snapped it. To his credit, the man did little more than grunt and brought up a knee that caught her painfully in the lower stomach. Mai twisted away, making space for herself, and sent the man spinning to the ground. She stomped his groin, his solar plexus and his neck in two seconds and then returned her attentions to the second man.
Who was just picking himself up from behind one of the small, rocky graves.
“Where did you come from? The ship?”
It was all he had time to say. His neck snapped seconds later. Mai respectfully skirted the dozen or so graves as she made her way quickly back to the captive. He was lying in the dirt, head to one side, breathing shallowly with a look of such hopelessness branded into his features that Mai knew it wasn’t just from being held and tortured in this place.
This man’s life had been hell.
Mai cradled his head. The man’s eyes gained focus for a second before he died. It was only after his last breath had expired that his eyes lost all semblance of pain and his haggard features at last smoothed out. In death, Mai saw, he had gained an inner peace.
Her thoughts turned back to the present. Quickly she surveyed the forest, fixed Drake’s position in her mind, and took off at a fast pace. The bodies needed hiding, and fast.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Drake almost jumped out of his skin when Mai descended on their camp. The Japanese woman was moving quickly, her every movement screaming urgency. It took but a few minutes to relay her information.
Romero and Smyth were up and ready to go. Drake grabbed his pack and said, “Lead on.” They filed into the deeper forest, following Mai. The moon offered a scant glow, the sea breeze distracted them with its urgency. When Mai stepped into a clearing and stopped, Drake quickly summed up the situation.
Of course, she was right. “Time to get off this bloody island.”
They dragged the bodies away from the clearing and into deeper undergrowth. There was nothing they could do for the poor, dead captive, so they concealed him with the guards. It did cross Drake’s mind to make it appear as though he had recovered and killed the guards himself, but on listening to Mai’s account of his debility, he quickly dismissed the idea.
It was time to fly.
They crouched among the creaking trees. It had taken some time to hide the bodies and dawn was already streaking the skies. Drake was beside Mai, their bodies touching.
“Hibiki?”
“Too early to say. We can’t risk alerting him.”
“Why else would he send the message?”
Mai breathed a heavy sigh. “He’s good, okay? That’s my instinct. He’s good.”
“Only way off this island is on that warship.”
“But somebody has to stay behind to shut this damn base down faster ’n crap through a goose. We can’t rely solely on our escape attempt or any kind of rescue.” Romero put in from behind.
“Unfortunately,” Drake said. “I agree. Bollocks.”
“So.” Smyth sounded impatient. “You and Maggie Q here got any plans on how to persuade the ship to leave?”
“There is only one way,” Mai said confidently. “The person in charge of it must believe he wants to leave.”
“Oh yeah? Where’s that from? The Art of War?”
Mai turned a steely eye on the marine. “I think we have our teams, Matt. Romero and you take the ship. Smyth and I will take the island and meet you on board.”
Drake had already guessed as much. The rising dawn amplified the fire in Mai’s gaze. Smyth might well regret his choice of words.
“Use Hibiki only if you’re convinced about him. Otherwise…”
“I know.”
“A simultaneous attack?”
“Yes. We’ll hit the base and go for the ship’s Captain. When we do that—” Mai paused. “You need to be on board. Just in case.”
Drake frowned. “We could help by—”
“Best if you’re on board,” Mai said softly. “No mistakes.” She met his eyes. “Besides, it won’t be a problem. You have your work cut out finding a place to hide and then leading us to it. And we’re more than likely going to land in North Korea, if we survive the trip.”
“Piece of piss,” Drake said quickly. “North Korea. China. Russia.” Drake counted the places off on his fingers. “Europe. Washington. Like I said—”
“A cellphone would be good too,” Smyth said drily, but with a rare smile. Maybe he was looking forward to working with the legendary Mai Kitano. Maybe he thought she really was Maggie Q.
Drake hunkered down and rummaged around for food and water. “Right then. Let’s thrash this out. We want to be ready for tonight.”
As darkness invaded the land, Drake and Romero crept among the thick trunks, staying as close to the tree line as they dared. The warship was a large, ugly chunk of steel sitting at ease among the calm waters of the natural harbor a short swim away. The decks were quiet, seamen lounging around as if bored. This may well be a regular, monotonous trip for some of them.
The two men found a flat piece of earth to dig into near the water’s edge and secured their weapons. All they were waiting for now was Mai’s signal.
Mai crouched alongside Smyth, waiting for the shadows to creep even farther over the guards’ quarters. They had decided to strike at them where they felt most comfortable — the place they rested, the place they slept. The weapons they had lifted from the dead guards were held loosely in their hands, two Dragunov SVUs and a Bullpup sniper rifle. With a sound suppressor and special muzzle-break to help absorb a large amount of recoil, it was perfectly suited to their needs. And interestingly, it was Russian made.