Of course, they might see her as well, and she wasn’t yet ready for that.
She listened to their conversation and was surprised to find out Powell had tricked El-Hashim. While on one level this admission amused the assassin — even impressed her — she knew it was also a problem. Though Powell had not actually confirmed that anyone was waiting at the end of the tunnel, her non-denial was proof enough. The assassin would have no choice but to take care of the two women before they reached Powell’s friends.
And then there was the whole father thing that Powell had been whining about. What a sentimental fool. Obviously, she was one who allowed her emotions to dictate her actions. That wasn’t much of a surprise, considering the way she had conducted herself in the prison.
But who her father was, and, for that matter, who Powell actually was, made no real difference to the assassin. The only thing important about the revelation was that it appeared the women’s reluctant partnership was quickly deteriorating.
The assassin waited until their voices grew distant, indicating they were walking again, before she made her way down the ramp.
The water that covered the floor was cool, but not uncomfortable, and walking silently through it was not a problem. She had been trained to function in a multitude of environmental situations, and before long, she closed the distance between them, until she could see their silhouettes backlit by Powell’s flashlight.
After a few minutes, the two women stopped again, and in the beam of their flashlight, the assassin saw the beginnings of what looked like an intersecting tunnel. Powell looked down at something in her hand, then pointed to the left and headed that way, pulling El-Hashim along with her.
The moment they were out of sight, the assassin increased her speed. When the tunnel straightened out again, she was only twenty feet behind them.
She felt a sudden rush, wanting very much to savor the moment. But she knew that all good things must come to an end.
It was time.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Cooper was almost to the abandoned building when his earpiece came alive with Deuce’s hushed voice.
“You there yet?”
“Just about,” Cooper said. “Anything new?”
“Two jeep patrols have started circling the perimeter.”
UAZs, Cooper knew — the Russian equivalent of the Jeep. “Terrific. Inside or outside the fence?”
“Inside.”
That was good. The rendezvous building was right outside the prison’s double fence, so unless the patrols actually headed out the gate, they weren’t an immediate threat.
“Let me know if that changes,” he said.
There was silence for a moment, then, “You see any sign of Alex?”
“Not yet.”
When he reached the building, Cooper looked around, trying to figure out exactly where Alex would be coming from. There was no obvious route to the outside that wouldn’t require them to run over hundreds of yards of open space before they reached the ravine.
Not exactly a stealthy way to escape.
And then, of course, there were the two fences. How would they get over those?
Again wishing that Alex had given them more details, Cooper studied his surroundings, and it suddenly struck him that maybe there was no need to get over the fences.
Why not go under them?
That had to be it, right? A tunnel. Maybe one that led directly from the prison to the building?
All other possibilities would come with an almost zero chance of working.
So if there was a tunnel, where would it come out?
Inside the building?
Wishing he could block out the sound of the siren, Cooper removed a flashlight from the bag on his back, then found an opening in the side of the building that had once had a door, and made his way inside. He spent the next several minutes exploring, and discovered that the interior of the building was little more than a collection of crumbling walls.
He moved room to room, finding nothing here that would support his theory. Until, that was, he stumbled across an enclosed space no bigger than a supply closet, its badly dilapidated door barely clinging to its hinges.
Unless he was wrong, most supply closets didn’t have a manhole in the center.
So was this it? Given the complete lack of other candidates, it seemed a pretty good fit.
Cooper stood there, studying the manhole. If he was right about this, it might be wise to get the cover off so that Alex and El-Hashim could crawl out quickly and save precious time. But the task would take more than a simple grab and pull. He needed something to assist him, a crowbar or a piece of pipe that he could stick into one of the holes atop the cover and pry it off.
There was nothing in the immediate area, but two rooms over he found a three-foot section of rusted rebar lying atop a pile of rubble. It wasn’t quite as long as he would have liked, but he thought it might work.
He returned to the room, and slotted the tip through one of the holes. As he pushed on the rod, he was afraid it was going to bend before the lid canted up. It did, but only a small amount, and he was able to lift the edge of the cover just high enough to twist it so that it was sitting partially out of the hole. A couple of intense shoves later, the opening was cleared.
Cooper shone his flashlight into the hole. On the left was a wall with a built-in ladder of metal hoops leading up to the opening. To the right was a tunnel, its floor about ten feet below.
Cooper leaned through the opening and cupped his free hand at the side of his mouth. “Alex? Are you there? It’s Cooper.”
Nothing.
“Alex?”
Still dead quiet.
He pulled back up and thought for a moment, then swung his legs around, and lowered himself down the ladder.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
In the chaos surrounding the discovery of not only a dead nurse, but three missing inmates and a doctor, it took an extra seven minutes before someone had the wherewithal to send a guard to check the floors that the supply elevator serviced.
The guard’s initial stop was naturally the first floor, where he wasted an additional four minutes determining there was no sign of anyone recently exiting the cramped elevator there. He lost even more time in the basement, where the elevator was housed in a rarely used section of the building that he had no idea how to get into. A full six minutes passed before he located someone with the correct key and unlocked the right door.
The guard navigated a dusty corridor, stepped through an open doorway, and saw that the elevator car was indeed there, but the room itself was empty.
He radioed the information in, and was told to report back to the main floor where a room-by-room search was underway. He was so focused on joining the search upstairs as he headed back the way he came, he didn’t notice the dark door to his left that was slightly ajar.
A door that, when opened, was prone to an initial, loud squeak.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
As they continued down the tunnel, Alex tried to figure out how to get El-Hashim to talk, short of beating the crap out of her. As much as she would have liked to give in to her more primal nature, Alex knew El-Hashim was having a hard enough time navigating the tunnels without the complication of black eyes and a broken rib or two. Besides, she wasn’t keen on beating up the defenseless, no matter how repugnant they were.
She needed an alternate strategy. Something along the lines of…