“Let’s move,” said Harvath.
The tunnel had a vaulted ceiling and was paved with bricks in a herringbone pattern. Along the walls were sconces that resembled lanterns and which dimly lit the passage via natural gas.
Up ahead was a hand truck that had been abandoned, ostensibly by one of the two dead men at the entrance who had rushed to the fight. On it were three cases of military meals-ready-to-eat, atop two cases of French wine. Either Damien’s people were cleaning him out, or packing him up. Regardless, someone had decided to bug out.
Harvath hated tunnels. They were death traps for a whole host of reasons, not the least of which was the lack of cover and the fact that they funneled bullets right at you. He moved Ashby and Mordechai forward as quickly as he could.
At the end of the passageway was a staircase with a door on either side. The door on the right had a heavy lock on it, but had been left ajar. Harvath signaled for Ashby to join him and for Mordechai to move to the side and watch their backs in case anyone came down the passage.
Pressed up against the brick wall, Harvath counted down from three and then used the toe of his boot to nudge the door the rest of the way open. With their weapons up and ready, they button-hooked into the room.
It was a long storeroom, stacked floor to ceiling with shelving. In addition to cases of wine and MREs, there were enormous cans of vegetables, fruit, soup, and stew. There was coffee, cleaning products, toilet paper, and soap. Batteries, lightbulbs, flashlights, and glow sticks took up shelf after shelf, while vitamins, medical supplies, sleeping bags, and bottled water took up still more. It was like walking into a wholesale warehouse club.
Carefully, they moved up and down the narrow aisles and then explored two walk-in freezers. There was a ton of food, but no people. Wherever the scream had come from, it hadn’t been here.
Harvath was about to radio Mordechai that they were coming out, when he heard what sounded like a door being kicked in, followed by the sound of gunfire.
Shit, the Israeli had hit the other room by himself!
Retreating from the storeroom, Harvath and Ashby raced to join Mordechai, who had gone through the other door so hard, he had knocked it halfway off its hinges.
The sound of gunfire reverberating through the brick passageway was deafening.
When he leaned against the wall, only a sliver of the other room was visible through the doorway, but it was enough. Harvath could see that Mordechai had been shot and was pinned down behind a workbench of some sort.
The shots kept coming, one after another. Whoever it was, they weren’t going to stop until they killed him.
Reaching for the grab tab on his vest, he pulled out a flashbang and held it so Ashby could see it and know what he was about to do. As soon as she nodded, he pulled the pin and tossed it into the room.
There was a brilliant white flash and a concussive boom!
Harvath and Ashby swept into the room. The instant he saw the shooter, he fired.
Two rounds hit center mass right around the man’s sternum. Two additional rounds penetrated just beneath the man’s nose and another at the bridge of his nose between his eyes. His weapon clattered to the floor along with his lifeless body.
Harvath and Ashby ignored Mordechai and kept moving through the room looking for threats.
It was a mechanical room with an old-fashioned boiler and plenty of pipes and other pieces of equipment to hide behind. Near the furnace, they found Helena.
She was naked and had been badly beaten. She was lying atop an old mattress, with both eyes swollen shut, and handcuffed to the wall. There was a soldering iron nearby and her body showed a myriad of burn marks.
After clearing the rest of the room, Ashby rushed to assist Helena while Harvath moved to help Mordechai.
“How bad?” he asked, as he moved him into a sitting position.
“Did you find Helena?”
“We found her. She’s alive. Sloane’s with her.”
“I need to see her,” the Israeli replied.
“In a minute. How bad are you hit?”
“I can’t move my left arm.”
Harvath radioed for Chase as he tore Mordechai’s shirt open and examined his wounds. He had taken two rounds to his shoulder, one of them shattering his clavicle.
Opening a dressing, he laid it against his shoulder and placed Bentzi’s right hand against it to help apply pressure. The man winced from the pain.
“You took two rounds,” said Harvath. “Your collarbone is broken. I know it hurts, but we need to stop the bleeding.”
When Chase appeared in the doorway, Harvath told him to swap his LaRue for Mordechai’s smaller MP5. They needed to clear the rest of the house. If Damien was here, Harvath would find him.
After double-checking that Bentzi’s Glock had a round in the chamber, Harvath set the pistol in the man’s lap.
“If anyone other than us comes through that door,” he said, “shoot them.”
With that, he and Palmer headed for the stairs.
CHAPTER 48
Harvath and Palmer cleared the entire house. There was no one there. It was the same for the pool house, guesthouse, and other outbuildings. Damien and the rest of his security people had gone. But gone where?
They searched the bodies of the dead security operatives — all of whom were foreign nationals carrying blue, UN-issued Laissez-Passer passports. There was nothing on them, not even on their phones, indicating where Damien was. The truck was devoid of clues as well — no slip of paper with an address, no map with a circle on it, no preprogrammed GPS with a destination for the supplies.
Fetching a box of glow sticks from the storeroom, Harvath gave them to Palmer and sent him out to mark an LZ for the helicopter. After radioing the pilot, he then returned to the mechanical room.
Mordechai sat on the floor next to Helena, attempting to comfort her. They both looked terrible.
“Helicopter is on its way,” said Harvath. “We’re going to get you out of here.”
Ashby had fashioned a sling for the Israeli, and after uncuffing Helena, had found a painter’s cloth for her to cover herself with.
She pulled Harvath out of earshot and said, “Not only did they beat and torture her, but I’m pretty sure Damien’s men raped her too.”
Harvath shook his head. Animals. “Can she talk?”
“I haven’t heard anything, but I think she’s in shock. Her jaw may be broken as well.”
“We need to know where Damien went.”
“You can ask her, but I don’t think you’re going to get anything. You should give her a little time.”
“I wish we had it,” Harvath replied.
Gently, he approached Helena and Mordechai and explained that he needed to know what happened and where Damien went. Helena didn’t reply. Mordechai tried some delicate coaxing, but she just closed her eyes. Harvath let it go.
Stepping outside, he helped Palmer collect the bodies. The side-by-side was still operable, and so they used that, stacking the corpses like cordwood and then hiding the vehicle in one of the outbuildings.
By the time they returned to the entrance of the passageway, they could already hear the helicopter approaching.
Palmer helped Mordechai and Harvath thought it better, given what had happened, that Ashby assist Helena. Though they moved slowly, they were at least both ambulatory.
Nicholas radioed that he wasn’t picking up any additional heat signatures anywhere on the property, and that it looked safe to land. He made sure to keep the drone out of the helicopter’s path.
When the helo touched down, Harvath stood guard until everyone was on board and then he joined them. The surveillance team would recover the drone.