Matt pulled out his pistol and aimed it at Chizek with an angry glare.
Chizek stopped.
Stevie did it again.
Again a scraping sound.
Finally, Matt pointed out the window. “There.”
The front gate was opening.
Stevie smiled.
Nick’s heart raced. He knew they were onto something. He pulled out his pistol and checked out his surroundings. He felt like they were being watched.
“Okay, Stevie,” Nick said. “Next number.”
Matt was on his toes now, prowling around the room with his Glock ready to go.
This time there was a single click coming from the entrance of the building.
Stevie pressed the buttons again and the same click. Matt went over toward the front door and gestured for Stevie to hit it again.
Click.
“It’s the lock on the front door,” Matt said from the darkness. “Try the next one.”
Stevie held out the remote and pressed the buttons.
The balls on the pool table began to tremble, then roll to the north side of the table. The floor seemed to move beneath their feet. The table itself began to shake and quiver as it rose from the cement, the hydraulic lift churning beneath it to move the massive piece of slate and wood.
Nick felt his pocket to see if he had any pills left. None. He could feel his head throb as the lift reached the pinnacle of it journey. The pool table stopped and exposed a giant opening in the earth below.
Nick crept up to the opening with wobbly steps, his gun out, his eyes peeled for the slightest movement. Matt was there instantly. He shined his flashlight down and said, “Oh my.”
There was a fairly wide tunnel in complete darkness, with an electric lift at the bottom and a metal ladder running down the side. Nick added his light to the mix, finding a pallet full of packages. His head pounded with needle-sharp pain when he spotted the Zutons’ wolf face logo wrapped around each package.
“See that?” he said.
“I see it,” Matt said. He reached back into Stevie’s bag and tossed a pair of night vision goggles to Nick, then slipped on his own pair. Before Nick could figure out a plan, his partner was climbing down the metal stairs, his gun out.
Nick grabbed Matt’s arm and was shaken off with lightning speed, like trying to hold back a hungry lion with a string-thin leash.
“Matt, wait,” Nick said.
“Wait, my ass.” Matt scowled at him. “I’ve waited too long already.”
Nick knew this was coming. Matt was below ground before he could react.
“Shit,” Nick said, slipping on night vision goggles and heading down the ladder. Just before he went below, he said to Stevie. “You stay here and watch these guys. Don’t come down no matter what.”
“Do I call Walt?” Stevie asked.
Nick was three steps down the ladder, then came back up and said, “Yeah, call Walt.”
Matt was down in just seconds, Nick close behind, wanting to stop him, but realizing now their biggest commodity was silence. They had obviously found Garza’s conduit to the United States and needed stealth to survive the discovery. He glanced quickly at the pallet of packages. Cocaine. Maybe half a ton.
Matt crept up against the wall and Nick mirrored his pace against the opposite side. As they moved away from the opening, the night vision goggles kicked into gear. Through the lenses, the green image showed a highly sophisticated passageway with wooden floors and a rail system to transport drugs into the country.
They took slow steps as they advanced down the tunnel. The air was musty and cool. The passage was wide and tall enough to move without crouching. As they moved deeper into the tunnel, the light began to dissipate. Even the night vision goggles were needing more illumination. Matt gently snapped his fingers and pointed to his headset. Nick understood. He turned on his infrared illuminator to intensify their ability to see.
In the middle of the rail, an object came into view. Matt was a few steps ahead of him and he was pointing furiously at the object. After a couple of steps, Nick saw that it was a cart. Inside the cart sat an object the size of a large guitar case. Except it was wrapped in black tape.
The bomb.
For a moment, Nick thought they should get the bomb out of there and finish their mission. But the moment passed as Matt’s silhouette faded into the darkness. As much as his partner was blinded by revenge, he couldn’t leave him down here by himself.
Nick kept his head on a swivel, keeping his eyes as far ahead as the lenses would allow, but watching the wall as well, looking for an ambush. Matt’s pace began to quicken and Nick felt they were being lured somehow, as if Garza knew they would be coming eventually.
The tunnel was deadly quiet. Their footsteps creaked slightly with each step. Something up ahead moved. Matt held up his hand and Nick stopped. The noise was coming toward them. Nick squinted, but saw nothing. Getting closer now, Nick squeezed the handle of his gun, ready to fire.
The movement came at him quickly, low, at his feet. He nearly fired his gun, before capturing the image of a rat scampering along the side of the wall, bristling against his pant leg as it scurried between his feet. Matt had already tracked the rat with his pistol and shook his head as Nick tried to get his breathing under control. He looked back and saw how far they’d gone from the opening, realizing they would be passing over the border soon.
Nick’s pulse pounded in his ear as he tried to match the cadence of Matt’s stride, keeping the noise of their footsteps to a minimum. Another object came into view through the infrared illuminator. It was on the floor on Matt’s side of the tunnel. A male body. As his partner approached the man, he leaned over and felt the neck. He examined the corpse through his goggles which were becoming increasingly more difficult to see as the light diminished even further. He turned to Nick and shook his head.
Matt stepped over the corpse and continued on. Nick didn’t know if it was the confined quarters or his PTSD, but he found it harder to breathe as well. He felt drops of sweat trickle down his temple as his gun hand began to tremble. He couldn’t afford an attack. Not now. But Dr. Morgan had warned him about the possibility under extreme stress.
There was a sound ahead. It wasn’t a mechanical sound, but a thicker, more complex noise. Matt must’ve heard it too, because he stopped and lowered himself into a crouched position. The movement continued on for a few more seconds, then stopped. It was probably only twenty yards ahead of them, but still outside the reach of their vision.
A powerful light pelted Nick’s eyes and temporarily blinded him as he squeezed his eyelids shut and threw off the night vision goggles. He tried to open them, but immediately squinted into submission. The intensity had assaulted his pupils and forced him to crouch down with his head between his knees.
From next to them, he heard an ominous voice crack the silence of the tunnel.
“Welcome to Mexico,” the voice said.
The voice had power and confidence and Nick was certain it was surrounded by a large supply of armed soldiers. It was the voice of death.
Nick heard Matt murmuring curses, obviously just as blind as Nick. The overhead lights had come to life and left them helpless.
“I would drop those guns now if you would like to survive a few more seconds,” Antonio Garza said. “I will allow you a proper good-bye. One deserving of a respected government agent.”
Nick dropped his gun, but didn’t hear Matt’s gun land. His eyes began to adjust. Through squinted vision, he was able to see Matt crouched down, his gun still in his right hand.
“Please, Mr. McColm, do not try any of your Mad Max crap,” Garza said. “It will only quicken your death.”
Nick could see Garza now, standing behind a tall man with his rifle pointed at Matt. There were another five soldiers with their assault rifles also trained on his partner. They were never going to survive this encounter and Nick knew this was their only chance to take Garza with them. Matt was capable of taking three or four down in just a second.