So, it was Blake Simmonds who betrayed me.
Sam then heard the voice of another person, speaking in German, at the other end of the tunnel. It was relatively quiet, and despite the speaker’s use of a foreign language, Sam could tell that the person was speaking calmly.
Aliana nudged his shoulder, and directed his attention to a spot that was located a few feet to the side of the tunnel’s entrance. There, Sam could just make out the slightest outline of another opening — this one running deeper inside the bowels of the mountain.
He nodded his head in recognition of the fact that it might be their only chance to escape.
John Wolfgang was panting heavily by the time he made it to the ledge containing the entrance to the tunnel.
He walked up to the other man, and said in German, “Where are they, Carl?”
“Where are who?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Carl.”
“Who's playing?” Carl asked.
“Okay, suit yourself,” John said, as he pulled out his pistol, pointed it at Carl’s face, and at close range, pulled the trigger.
A large hole instantly bloomed where Carl’s head once was, and he fell to the ground on the narrow ledge. He tried in vain to breathe for a couple of seconds before his brain finally caught up to the reality that he had been shot at point blank range with a powerful pistol.
Well, at least one of those damned treasure hunters is now out of my way.
From the other side of the tunnel entrance, he watched, relieved, as his own elite team was now quickly making their way into the tunnel.
Sam followed Aliana down into the little hole, before he heard another crack of gunfire. It was dark inside, but a small draft reassured him that the crevasse extended even further.
They climbed down another fifteen to twenty feet, using their arms and legs to press against the rock walls and slow their descent.
The hole dropped down much further than either of them expected.
When they could no longer see the opening at the top of the crevasse, the two of them stopped their descent entirely.
Above them, Sam could hear the two men shouting at each other in German. It was the first time he realized that there were several people after them.
The yelling got even closer.
Sam would have loved to know what they were saying, but he didn’t dare ask Aliana to translate for him, in fear of it giving away their hiding place.
The shouting quieted somewhat, and now sounded more like a series of distinct questions, as if his pursuers had drawn closer together.
Then he heard another sound, similar to that of a small rock falling, and it echoed down the same gap in the rock wall in which they were hiding.
Aliana, whose native German ears understood every word that had been spoken, yelled, “Grenade!”
They both released their pressure on the rock walls and slid downward in a complete free fall.
Above them, they heard a large explosion, followed by the sound of limestone crashing.
And still, they continued to fall.
Chapter Nineteen
The entire tunnel that John had been standing inside shook after his grenade exploded. He instinctively raised his arms above his head to protect himself from any falling debris. For an instant he actually wondered if the entire tunnel was going to cave in on him.
He was wrong about that, but the thick dust that billowed out of the tunnel could easily be just as lethal. John ducked down and made his way to the tunnel’s closest exit. Then, with the calm experience of someone who’d spent many years climbing these mountains, he carefully climbed down half a dozen rungs of the Via Ferrata below.
The air was fresh again — and it felt naturally crisp by comparison to the rock dust that he’d been breathing and from which he’d just escaped.
It was over. Sam Reilly was dead.
He’d just bought himself some more time.
In his pocket, John’s cell phone began to vibrate silently. He slid his hand across its face to accept the call.
Its caller ID read, “Blake Simmonds.”
“Speak.”
“What are you doing, John?” Blake asked, in the coarse voice of a man who’d smoked too much for far too long.
“Never you mind, Blake. I’m trying to take care of something you were supposed to fix.”
“And I will fix it. In fact, my guy is in the process of taking him out right now.”
“I doubt that,” John replied, chuckling. “I doubt that very much indeed.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, for starters he’s dead, and so is Sam Reilly.”
“Carl’s dead?” Blake’s voice sounded irritated. “He was loyal. It takes a long time to make a man really loyal, doesn’t it?”
“So it does,” John agreed.
Both men subscribed to a world where loyalties could easily be exchanged for more money, better opportunities, and self-satisfaction.
“And Sam Reilly’s really dead?” Blake asked, seeking reassurance.
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s something, at least.”
“Now, what about the other thing? Are we close?”
“We’re getting there, but it will still take some time,” John replied.
“Don’t take too long. The buyers are getting impatient, and you know what that means, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course.”
Blake Simmonds ended the call.
He noticed an unopened text message on it from Carl.
He opened it, and read, “For your information, boss, Sam Reilly is here with Aliana Wolfgang.”
Blake Simmonds laughed aloud, in a way he hadn’t laughed since this whole affair began, all those years ago.
The European backpacker that Sam Reilly had picked up was John’s own daughter?
The implications of the statement were enormous.
Could it be possible that John didn’t even realize that his daughter was with them?
Blake considered how this new piece of information might be useful to him, and then looked at the GPS on his cell phone. It displayed the location of his own team, and he wondered whether they would reach it in time.
Could it be that John doesn’t even realize how close he is to stumbling upon it?
He tapped the helicopter pilot on the shoulder, and said, “Take us back — there’s been a change of plans.”
Sam slid deeper into the large crevasse with Aliana.
The crash of large rocks falling could be heard all around them. Sam had no idea where this drop would eventually take them, but the alternative was to be killed by the landslide that the explosion had caused above them.
At the bottom of the crevasse, they skidded along a flat section of the rocky fissure as it leveled out. A split second later, several tons of rock came crashing down, completely blocking their exit.
Sam flicked on the small headlamp, and then looked back at the mounds of rocky debris now strewn along the route they’d used when they had entered.
“Well, we can’t go back the way we came,” Aliana said, pointing out the obvious. Even if she and Sam could possibly move the rocks, their pursuers would be waiting for them on the other side.
“No, that’s for certain.”
“So, then, now what do we do?”
Sam turned his head to where the crevasse seemed to continue on into a natural tunnel.
A strange green luminescence could be seen emanating from the other side. He looked at Aliana, who seemed to be equally fascinated by it.
The strange glow so mesmerized Sam, that he nearly forgot the fact that someone had just tried, for the third time this month, to kill him.