Grant backed up, this time giving a thumb’s up to Adler, who pumped his fist in mid air. Grant pointed two fingers at his eyes, then toward the opposite side of the building. Adler nodded, then cautiously walked along the wall toward the far end.
Grant waited until Adler disappeared around the wall. Then he headed slowly to the opposite corner, stopping briefly. He leaned forward, just enough to see. Clear. Then, he eased himself around the side, passing the main door, before he stopped again. He still heard chanting, but where the hell was everybody? Looking around the corner, he couldn’t zero in on the Arabs. Then he spotted two dark forms kneeling, not far from the plane.
He heard Adler in his earpiece, “Coming back.” Within seconds, Adler was behind him.
With the Libyans preoccupied, Grant knew this might be the only opportunity they had to get inside. But not knowing where Labeaux was worried the hell out of him.
He motioned Adler to stay at the corner, while he checked the door. Moving cautiously, Grant shifted his weapon to his left hand. He nearly had his right on the door knob, when a sound above made him freeze. He looked overhead. A balcony. He couldn’t see who was there. The only person it could be was Labeaux.
He stepped back, looked at Adler and pointed overhead. Adler acknowledged.
Grant tried the doorknob again, gave it a slight turn, then opened it just a crack. Adler signaled no lights. Grant pulled it open just enough to allow Adler to slip inside, then he immediately followed. He closed the door. Letting their eyes grow accustomed to the darkness, they walked slowly toward the staircase that led to the balcony. No sound came from above them.
A door to the left, one that Webb had described, was closed. A light shining from underneath constantly flickered. The Henleys were behind that door.
Adler stood just to the side, close to the stairs. He waited for Grant to make his move inside. With his Uzi ready, he’d keep watch. Grant looked at him and they both gave a quick nod.
Taking a deep breath, Grant put his left hand on the doorknob, praying it wasn’t locked. It turned. In a split second, he was inside. Immediately, Adler took up a position next to the door, keeping his eyes on the stairs, then the side entry.
Grant put a finger to his lips as Henley looked up at him. He pulled his K-bar from the leg strap as he got down on one knee and sliced the rope. Unhooking a canteen from his belt, he made Henley drink, then whispered, “Can you walk?”
Henley nodded, answering, “Think so.” He whispered with a raspy voice, “Vicky! See if Vicky’s okay.” He stretched his legs in front of him. They felt numb. He kept watching his wife.
Grant knelt next to her, then brushed aside hair covering her face. Even in the dim light, seeing her sallow complexion made him worry. Dried vomit was at the corner of her mouth and on her clothes. He felt for a pulse in her neck. It was weak, but she was alive. He looked at Henley and gave a thumb’s up.
Grant cut the rope from her waist and wrists. Cradling her against his chest, he poured a little water in his palm, and put it near her mouth, trying to moisten it. She remained motionless.
A decision had to be made. Should he leave the Henleys here while he and Adler took care of the Libyans and Labeaux? Or should they try and get them a safe distance away?
There wasn’t any way Henley could walk by himself. Vicky would have to be carried. The odds of them making it without being heard, or seen, were slim, especially with Labeaux on the balcony. They would probably be safer in this room.
Gently laying her on the floor, Grant scooted to Henley. “Jack, let me help you.” He put Henley’s arm over his shoulder then lifted him enough to have him walk. He helped him sit on the floor near his wife. Henley leaned over and kissed her cheek, then gently rubbed a hand over her head. “Vicky,” he said quietly.
Grant squatted down. “Jack, we’re gonna have to leave you here while we take care of things.” Henley looked at him with bloodshot eyes, nodded, then immediately turned to his wife.
“Here. Take this,” Grant said, with his .45 laying in his palm. “It’s ready.”
Henley took the gun. “But how… ”
Grant slid the Uzi from around his side. “Don’t worry. I’m good,” he said, patting the weapon. “Look, Jack, I’m gonna shut the light off. We’ll signal you before we come back in.” He laid a reassuring hand on Henley’s shoulder.
Standing, he turned on his penlight before shutting off the overhead bulb. He went into the hallway, closing the door quietly.
Adler looked at him questioningly. Grant whispered into his throat mike. “They’re weak. Need to take care of business… quick.”
He no sooner got the words out when they snapped their heads toward the stairs. They both froze, hearing a door closing. There was the sound of footsteps. They rushed under the stairwell. Grant drew his K-bar.
It went quiet for a moment. Labeaux noticed there wasn’t any light shining under the door. He assumed the bulb finally burned out. He stepped off the last step and started toward the door.
Before he had time to react, a strong arm was around his throat, pressing so hard he thought his windpipe would disintegrate. He felt a cold blade against his cheek.
Adler immediately stepped in front of him, keeping his Uzi in full view. He patted the terrorist down. Pulling a Luger from Labeaux’s shoulder holster, Adler flipped on the safety then stuck it in his belt.
Grant backed up, taking Labeaux with him. When he was at the wall, he spun around, shoving Labeaux’s face into the concrete. Blood spurted from Labeaux’s nose.
Pressing his left hand against the back of Labeaux’s head, Grant leaned close, saying with his voice low, “Your IRA friends are dead, Labeaux. And the explosives? Well, we took care of them, too. And you can stop waiting for Webb.”
Labeaux struggled. Grant slammed his face into the wall again. “We can do this all night, but I don’t think your face is gonna enjoy it.”
As much as Grant wanted to end this guy’s existence, right here and now, bringing him in would be almost as satisfying. Then again, giving him up to the Libyans might feel just as good. And maybe even better.
But it was the plane that worried Grant… the Libyans’ plane. The word “fanatics” came to mind. What if they wanted to retaliate for a plan gone awry? What if they decided to “hit” the base, or Newquay, on their own? Even without a weapon, the damage and loss of life could be devastating.
There had to be a way to end it here. He signaled Adler closer, then whispered only a few words. Adler responded with a thumb’s up.
Labeaux ran his tongue across his lips, tasting blood, just as Grant swung him around. Adler slapped a piece of duct tape across Labeaux’s mouth. He ripped another larger piece, securing the terrorist’s arms behind his back. Grant motioned with his head. Adler took off.
Grant shoved Labeaux onto the floor, then stood next to him. The entire time they waited for Adler’s return, Labeaux would feel the K-bar’s cold, smooth blade sliding up and down his cheek.
For Grant, getting Labeaux out of this building and away from the Henleys was priority. If all shit broke loose, Jack and Vicky needed a chance to survive, and inside a reinforced concrete building might be the way.
Labeaux’s head was spinning. This couldn’t be happening! How was it possible?! Sweat rolled down his eyelids, stinging his eyes. These men were the two from the harbor. He was positive. And it had been the woman who gave him up. He should have had Aknin kill her and her husband the same way the detective was sliced. Now, there wasn’t any way for…
A sudden thought jolted him. Massi! There was still Massi and Aknin. Knowing the reputation and ability of those two gave him a faint glimmer of hope. Maybe it wasn’t over yet.