"Damned if I know," Nick said.
"Left," Selena said. She pointed at a layer of dust covering the floor in the right hand passage. "No footprints." She looked at the bodies lying by her feet. "These men didn't come that way."
"You're bleeding," Korov said.
Selena's sleeve was red with blood.
"Only a scratch."
Korov took out his knife and cut the fabric away from her arm. She winced as he pulled the cloth away.
"It's not serious. A flesh wound," he said. He cut a strip from his shirt and used it to wrap the injury. His touch was gentle as he did it.
Selena gave him an odd look. "Thanks," she said.
Nick inserted a fresh 30 round magazine into his M-16. "Let's go," he said.
They moved into the left-hand corridor. Light bulbs lined the walls at regular intervals, each one protected by a metal grill. The tunnel was big, at least two dozen feet across and almost as high.
"You could drive a truck through here," Ronnie said. "What were they thinking of?"
"It was supposed to be part of the train system," Selena said. "At least that's the story."
They walked along the deserted tunnel. Nick felt fatigue setting in as the adrenaline wore off. He forced himself to stay alert.
"Someone spent a lot of money to build this," Korov said.
"If it was meant to be an emergency hideout for the big shots, they wouldn't have cared about how much it cost."
"But they never used it," Selena said. "Why build it and then walk away?"
"Who knows?" Nick said. "I gave up trying to understand how Washington spends our money a long time ago."
Ahead, the corridor turned left around a blind corner. They moved single file along the wall until Nick signaled a halt. He glanced around the corner.
The corridor ended in a wall and a steel door painted gray.
They moved to the door. Nick tugged on his ear. It itched.
"Maybe they think we're dead. Maybe they don't. My guess is were going to find out when we go through that door," Nick said. "The door opens toward us. Ronnie, you and Korov take the left side and Selena and I will take the right."
They took up positions on either side of the door. Nick pulled it open. Nothing happened.
The door led to a large storeroom filled with old office furniture and odds and ends from the airport. Everything was stacked in haphazard piles. The place looked like a junk shop organized by a schizophrenic. On the far side of the room was another door.
"I don't see anyone," Ronnie said. His voice was quiet.
They started into the room.
"Look out!"
Korov jumped in front of Selena and pushed her aside. A burst of automatic fire came from behind a stack of boxes. The bullets hurled the Russian backward. Nick had time to see a dark object hurtling through the air before the world vanished in a wave of light and sound.
CHAPTER 54
Nick came to his senses and retched. He was lying on the floor. A man in a TSA uniform stood over him. The muzzle of a rifle was pressed into his neck.
"Don't move, asshole."
The voice was muffled. Something was wrong with Nick's hearing. Flashbang, he thought.
Another man grabbed Nick and bound his hands behind his back with zip ties. Nick clenched his teeth against a jolt of pain from his broken fingers. The man pulled him to his feet. For Nick, it felt like his arms were going to come out of their sockets. He was dizzy. He stumbled and retched again. The other man kept a harsh grip on his arm. Then he saw Korov.
The Russian lay on his side, his eyes open, unblinking. His face had a look of childlike surprise. The front of his shirt was soaked with blood. Blood spread in a slow, red stain around him.
Aw, hell, Nick thought. Then, Selena!
He looked to his right. Selena was being hauled to her feet. A little ways past her, Ronnie lay on the floor as someone tied his hands.
Selena looked over at him and he felt relief that she was still alive. She looked at Korov's body and her face set. Nick knew the look. You didn't want to be on the wrong side of that look.
"You all right?" he said.
"Yes."
"Shut up. No talking." Nick's guard poked him hard in the back with his rifle.
One of their captors was on his radio. He had three gold stripes on his shoulders. He listened for a moment, acknowledged and put the radio away.
"We're going to the control room," he said to the man standing next to Nick. "The General wants to see them."
"Wants to ask them a few questions, I'll bet. They won't like that."
"I wouldn't mind asking her a few questions," one of the men said. He walked over and stood about six feet away from Selena.
"What do you say, honey bunch? Be nice, and I can make things a lot easier for you."
"I can't be nice to you if you're way over there," Selena said.
The man grinned and stepped close. Selena kneed him in the groin. He doubled over in pain, grabbing his crotch.
After a moment he straightened up. "Bitch," he said, and punched her in the stomach. She went down on her knees, gasping for breath.
"That's enough," the man with the stripes said. "The General's waiting." Selena struggled to her feet. Stripes went over to her. He stood well out of her reach.
"You try anything else, I'll put a bullet in your head. Understand?"
She said nothing.
"I'll take that as a yes," Stripes said.
As the men prodded them forward, Nick thought about Korov. They had been under fire together in Texas and Russia, gotten drunk together, sung songs together. Nick didn't let many people into his life, but Korov had been one of them. Nick felt rage stirring, the kind of rage that had erupted on the day he almost killed his father, all those years ago. He took a deep breath to get himself under control. Blind rage wasn't going to get them out of this. He looked over at Ronnie, then at Selena. Something passed between them. It wasn't over yet.
The guards marched them through the door at the end of the storage space and into another passage. It led to a big room where a half dozen technicians tended computers and watched their monitors. Everyone wore the TSA uniform except for two men standing in front of a huge display screen mounted on one wall. The men turned to look as the guards herded them into the room. One was dressed in the green uniform of a full general in the U.S. Army.
Westlake, Nick thought. The other man looked familiar. Then it clicked. It's Martinez, the Senate Majority Leader. What's he doing here?
"Bring them here," Westlake said.
"Sir, be careful of the woman," Stripes said.
"You heard me."
"Yes, sir."
The guards stopped them about six feet away from Westlake.
He looked at Nick. "I recognize you," he said. "You were the one with Rice in Jerusalem. You should have stayed in Washington."
"I'm not the only one who should have stayed there," Nick said. "How does it feel to be a traitor, General? Your country has given you everything. Why are you doing this?"
"The victors decide who is a patriot and who is a traitor," Westlake said. "George Washington was a traitor, as far as England was concerned. Everything I do is for the good of the country. Someone has to take action. Fortunately, there are several of us who have decided that enough is enough."
"Ten minutes, General." The man speaking sat at a console in front of the big screen. It looked like a fancy gaming console, with a joystick and keyboard. "On schedule."
"Very well, Abingdon," Westlake said over his shoulder. He kept his eyes on Nick. "Do you understand what's about to happen, Major Carter?"
"It's not Major anymore," Nick said. "I'm a civilian, now."
Westlake said. "You can serve again, if you like."