"Need the tire iron," Sean said to Tommy.
Tommy set his bag down in the snow and tucked his pistol back into his coat. Sean kept looking out away from the mine, constantly watching for any threat that might sneak up on them.
"Got it," Tommy said, pulling the little iron rod from the bag.
Sean took it and moved back over to the barricade.
"You're welcome," Tommy said, zipping his bag.
"Thanks," Sean said. He found a crack big enough for the flat end of the iron to fit and started wiggling it back and forth.
Suddenly, the entire wooden facade started moving. A high-pitched creak from rusty hinges screamed in their ears. The planks weren't a barricade. They were part of a big door. And the door was swinging open. A blast of warm air billowed out of the entrance, washing over the men as they stared into the darkness.
"What's going on?" Yuri asked. He raised his weapon and started looking around frantically.
A motor groaned, pushing the door open from the inside. It swung wide enough to accommodate a mine car on the tracks — even though there were none sitting around at the entrance.
Sean aimed his gun into the tunnel. Dim lights were fixed into the wall, barely lighting the dark shaft. The three moved into the threshold and stared inside. From the row of lights along the wall, they could see the corridor bent gradually to the left about ninety feet in.
Tommy and Yuri lifted their goggles to get a better view into the tunnel.
"Did you hit a button or something?" Tommy asked.
"No."
"Maybe there was a trigger. A laser, perhaps," Yuri offered.
"No. I don't think so. Someone knows we're here."
"That would be correct," a familiar voice said from behind.
Sean, Tommy, and Yuri jerked their heads around, startled.
"Drop your weapons," Porter said with a H&K MP5 hanging from his shoulder. He waved the gun back and forth, making sure the intruders understood they could all be taken out in a matter of seconds. From such a short range, Porter would make quick work of them.
"Drew Porter," Sean said. "I should have known you were behind all this."
Porter raised his goggles, revealing his wicked brown eyes. "Me? Oh, I'm not behind all this. In fact, I'm looking for the same thing you're trying to find. Except I'm not working for the president."
Sean and his comrades were puzzled. "If you're not behind all this, why'd you try to kill me in New York? And what are you doing pointing a gun at us?"
Porter shrugged. "Isn't it obvious? I want this treasure for myself. As to your execution, yes, I was taking orders from someone else."
"But not anymore?" Tommy asked.
Porter's head turned back and forth. "No. Not anymore. They tried to cut me out. Now, though, I have more leverage than I could have hoped for."
Chapter 35
"Okay, thank you." Emily ended the call and slid her phone back into the front pocket of her black slacks.
"That was the police down in Clinton," she said. "They found Pinkton and two other men dead."
Dawkins and Adriana looked at her in confusion.
"What?" Dawkins asked. "Dead? What happened?"
"It isn't clear yet. Sounds like there was some kind of shootout on the runway. One of Pinkton's men was shot dead. He and the other guy were killed when an SUV rammed into their car, broadside. Pinkton was crushed under his vehicle. The other guy had a blunt force trauma to the head."
"What about the driver of the SUV?" Adriana asked.
Emily's head turned side to side. "They didn't know. It was a rental. Fake name and ID."
"A ghost."
"Yep. So as of right now, they have no idea who it was."
"Sean texted me this morning to let me know they made it safely to Anchorage. Do you think they killed Pinkton and those men?"
"Not sure, but I'm glad they made it out safely."
The president's face was stern. He was stuck on the missing detail of the SUV driver. "Did they try to run prints on the driver of the SUV?" he asked.
"Yes, but they didn't find a thing."
"The entire time they used the vehicle?"
"Maybe they were being extremely careful. All I know is they came up with nothing. The only lead is the rental car place. Police are making calls now to see what they can learn. My guess is they won't find much."
Adriana paced back and forth for a minute while she listened to the conversation. Something kept poking at her mind like a needle digging into her skin.
"What about Porter?"
The other two turned to her, their faces filled with the same question.
"Drew Porter. You said he went rogue. His body wasn't on the scene at the airport, at least, not that you mentioned."
"No, they didn't say anything about him."
"Which means he's still on the loose. And it brings up the question as to why he'd send his men after Sean and Tommy without being there to lead things himself."
The room descended into silence as the three considered the problem.
Adriana perked up first. "Who was the pilot that flew Sean and Tommy to Alaska?"
"Perkins. Sam Perkins," Emily said. "I've known him a long time. Good pilot. Good man. Why?"
"Call him, and find out what he saw at the airport. If he was there, he'd have seen what happened."
Emily's eyes opened wide. "Of course. Perkins would have seen everything."
"He wouldn't have demanded to stick around until the authorities arrived?" Dawkins asked.
"I'm sure Sean was pretty insistent they get out of Dodge," Emily said. She picked up her phone and started dialing.
"He flew all night. You think he'll answer?"
"It's late in the morning out there. He should."
The phone rang five times before a groggy man's voice came through the earpiece.
"Hello?"
"Perkins, it's Emily."
"Oh, hello Director Starks. I hope you don't mind if I get a little more sleep before you ask me for another favor."
"I'm not calling for a favor. Can you tell me what happened at the airport in Clinton last night?"
The man sniffled and then yawned. "Sure. I got to the airstrip about a half hour before your friends. Then there was a shootout. Some guys in a car tried to take out Sean and Tommy. They returned fire. Then out of the blue some Russian fellow plowed into their car. I assume everyone inside was killed. My copilot and I got the three of them out of there as fast as we could. Figured discretion was best."
The pilot's explanation brought up more questions than answers.
"You said a Russian guy killed the three in the car?"
"Yeah. I'm assuming he's Russian. Said his name was Yuri when I went into the back of the plane to get some rest while my copilot took over."
"What was a Russian doing at the airfield?" Emily asked, more thinking out loud than expecting an answer.
"That I don't know, Director Starks. Your boy Sean looked like he was giving him a good once-over while I got the plane ready for takeoff. I figured if Sean trusted him enough to let him on board, he was okay."
Sean wasn't the most trusting person in the world, so the fact that he allowed this Russian to fly with them did speak volumes.
"By the way," Perkins said, "thanks for sending me that copilot. He did a great job. Not a very talkative guy, but he's a machine. Only took some rest when we stopped for fuel. In fact, I don't think he ever left the cockpit. Guy was a workhorse."
Emily frowned. "I didn't send a copilot. I thought you were arranging for that."