So that was the trick. You could open the trap from the inside, but you had twelve seconds to make it through. The shaft was only a couple of feet. They could do it.
Just then, the light in the tunnel winked out, followed an instant later by the pink of another spear against the wall. Their pursuer’s patience was at an end. He was coming for them.
Bones brandished his knife and made to swim for the tunnel to meet the attack, but Dane grabbed him by the arm. Bones understood the reason a moment later when another projectile sliced through the water. The man wasn’t taking any chances.
Dane pointed to Bones, then to the tunnel as he yanked down on the lever. Bones knew him well enough not to argue, but dove through before the stone came crashing down.
Time was almost up. Dane turned out his light, plunging the chamber into inky darkness. He pulled the lever and, relying on instinct and sense of direction, shoved the casket through the shaft as the stone was still rising.
A light blinked on behind him and another spear whizzed inches past his face. He knew it would take the man a few seconds to reload, but he was already on his way through. He felt Bones take hold of his arm and yank him through as the trap fell again. Something yanked at his foot as he tried to swim down the tunnel. For a moment, he thought his foot was trapped, but then he realized his fin was caught. He wasted no time working his foot free and swimming down the passage with the speed and grace of a one-legged frog. Bones, carrying the casket, was well ahead of him.
Dane figured it was only a matter of time before the lever that released the trap was discovered, but their enemies would be waiting for them to emerge in the swamp, not on the shore. He hoped.
A small circle of light swam into view overhead. This was the spot where Charlie’s crew had tried to pump the water out of the tunnel. Charlie’s crew! They had sealed up the end of the tunnel before beginning the pumping. He and Bones had almost found themselves in a dead end.
He flicked his light on and off to get Bones’ attention, and pointed to the opening. It was their only option. Bones stared for a moment, then seemed to catch up with Dane’s train of thought.
Dane went first, wondering what he’d find waiting when he stuck his head out of the hole. He treaded water, listening for any sound that would warn of danger, but he heard nothing, not even the rattle of the drill. Locke’s crew must have stopped working when they became aware of his and Bones’ presence. Figuring there was no time like the present, he hauled himself out onto solid ground.
No one was about. Breathing a sigh of relief, he helped Bones out of the hole and, breathing the sweet, night air, they crept into the trees, moving away from the work site and the swamp.
On the north side of the island, they hid in the shadows beneath an ancient oak tree and assessed the situation before hitting the water. By the time they came ashore more than a mile away from the island, they were both spent.
“It’s been a long time since our training days,” Bones panted as they made their way to the place, far from shore, where they’d arranged to meet Angel and Avery.
“I can’t say I miss the six mile swims,” Dane said. They emerged on a hill overlooking a dirt road. Down below sat Avery’s car.
It was empty.
Chapter 16
It took every ounce of Locke’s self-control to keep from pacing. He waited at the edge of the swamp, impatience battling with eagerness. More than once he considered putting on dive gear and going in himself, but that would not do. He was in charge and needed to act like it.
He consulted his watch for at least the tenth time. What was keeping Fisher and his team? Having only begun operations the previous evening, they’d not yet had the opportunity to investigate the warren of tunnels beneath the island. For all he knew, his people were navigating a veritable maze. And then there were the intruders. Who were they? Were they armed? There was too much he didn’t know.
He was about to check his watch again when Fisher appeared. To Locke’s surprise, he didn’t emerge from the swamp, but from the direction of the drilling operation. The look on his face told him the news was not good.
“Report,” Locke snapped, his harsh tone a concession to his mood.
“It’s a death trap down there. The tunnels are like a honeycomb and whoever built this place added a few nasty surprises. I lost everyone.” He took a deep breath and looked away.
“Tell me the rest.” The back of Locke’s neck warmed with his rising anger.
“There is a church down there, clearly built by the Templars. Behind it, I found a hidden chamber.” He paused, stiffened, and swallowed hard. “The intruders got there first. Whatever was in that chamber, they took it.”
“How did they get away?” Locke bit off every word. Calm on the outside, his insides quaked with rage.
“I thought I had them trapped, but the Templars built in an exit. The lever that opened it was hidden and I had to search for it. By the time I made it through.” He shrugged.
“Where are they now?”
“They made it to the surface. I tried to track them, but they left little sign. I finally found a few tracks on the north side of the island. I think they swam for it.”
Locke grabbed his radio, ordered his men to scour the island, and instructed the sheriff to send both of his boats to the island’s north side. It was clear from Meade’s tone that he did not appreciate taking orders from a civilian, but Locke couldn’t care less. Even as he put his forces in motion, he knew it was too late. He would have to admit his failure to Morgan.
Who could have done this? Who had the skill to infiltrate the island, move like shadows through armed and alert guards, navigate the underground tunnels, and swim to freedom? Almost as soon as the question crossed his mind, he had the answer.
Maddock!
A commotion coming from the direction of the causeway drew him from his thoughts and he looked up to see two of his men escorting a handcuffed woman toward him. Two of Meade’s people, White and Boudreau, followed closely behind.
“This is our prisoner!” Boudreau shouted. “You can’t just take her. We want to see the sheriff about this.”
“Who is she?” Locke asked as he looked the prisoner over. She was an athletic-looking woman, dark of skin, eyes, hair, her lovely face at odds with the stream of vulgarity she spewed as she yanked at her bonds. She managed to land a kick to the knee of the man who held her, almost sending him to the ground.
“Our people picked her up along the coast road. We were told to be on the lookout for anything suspicious,” White explained. “She was looking out over the water like she was waiting for someone. She had a car parked nearby.”
“I wasn’t waiting for anything,” the girl snapped.
“You were just sitting on the shore, in the middle of the night, doing nothing at all?” Locke took a step closer. “Or were you waiting for someone? Dane Maddock, perhaps?”
“Who the hell is that?” She looked like she wanted to bite his face off.
Now he could see she was Native American, and something clicked into place.
“You are with that fellow who was running the operation here before we took over.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about you poncey…”
Fisher stepped forward and drove a fist into her gut. Surprisingly, she absorbed the blow and grinned.
“Is that all you got?”
Fisher tensed, but Locke put a stop to his foolishness with a wave of his hand.
“Enough.” Everyone fell silent, even the Indian girl. He turned to the deputies. “Something of value was stolen from the island tonight, and I suspect this woman is an accomplice.”