“I’m ready. Tell me when. I’ll switch on the light.” He moved flush against her left side and prepared to flick on his flashlight.
“One,” she whispered. “Two. Three.”
He turned on the flashlight and Russell started firing the Uzi. He felt her body vibrate with the weapon’s recoil and the noise pounded his eardrums. The light gave a gray glow and her shots pierced through the tunnel. Smith saw bits of her muzzle flash and two men standing about fifty yards into the tunnel.
Seconds later they returned fire. He could see muzzle flash only from the one on the right. The plaster in front of Russell’s face exploded and he heard her grunt as bits hit her face. He switched off the light and used his body to push her into an opening to the right. A bullet winged past his ear.
“How many did you see?” Russell said.
“Two. But only the one on the right was shooting.”
“Let’s continue to lay down fire in spurts and take it in sections. This time run to the left and when we reach the next opening get inside. We need to get to the bacteria. The station is behind them.”
Russell nodded. “One, two, three.” She stepped back into the tunnel and laid down some more fire, racing across to the left side. This time Smith didn’t turn on the light but kept with her, firing the AK-47 on semiautomatic to conserve bullets. The return fire was quick and raked to the right. Russell jogged forward and Smith did as well, firing and praying that a stray bullet from the two in front didn’t hit him dead on in the chest. He kept looking for a recessed section, but couldn’t find any.
“One, two…” Russell wasn’t letting up. Smith didn’t either. She started moving right again. This time Smith didn’t see any return fire. He kept shooting. They jogged ahead. He breathed a sigh of relief when the muzzle flash revealed another opening, this one without a ladder, but deep enough to provide cover for both him and Russell. They’d managed to reach this section without seeing any return fire. Right before they stepped into the tunnel, Smith thought he saw motion from inside the recessed area. He put an arm out to hold Russell in place, moved his back against the wall, inched his way forward, and led with his gun, arm stretched out. He stepped into the opening and flicked on his light. His muzzle was three feet from Nolan’s face.
“Don’t shoot, it’s me,” Nolan said.
Smith swallowed as relief went through him. She stepped up to him and put her arms around his waist. He placed an arm around her neck, felt her temple at his lips and kissed it. She moved in close and gripped his waist harder. He could feel her shaking and, because she’d never shown fear before, he knew that it meant the situation was dire.
“How many are there?” he said.
“Four. And a crew upstairs.”
“I’m Russell. Are they all armed?” Russell’s voice came in a whisper through the darkness.
“Likely, yes. Khalil and Dattar for sure. I don’t know about the other two.”
“Did they hurt you?” Smith asked. She was silent. His anger spiked and his face felt hot as he flushed.
“I’m alive,” she said. “And still in one piece.” She sounded a bit more like herself, but she still gripped him tightly.
“Did he get the money back?” Russell said.
“Not yet. They wanted to set up their attack first.”
“Tell us,” Russell said. “But make it quick. They’re out there.”
Nolan ran down the story, and as she did Smith was both relieved and sickened that the theory he’d reached was the right one.
“How much time?” Russell asked. Smith touched the glow button on his watch.
“Seven minutes.”
“What happens then?” Nolan said.
“The third rail switches back on.”
“Do you know how many more recessed areas there are before we hit the platform?” Smith said.
“Only one. And there’s a body in there.” Nolan’s voice cracked on the word “body.”
“Whose?” Russell said.
“An MTA employee. He stumbled into this mess.”
“Ready?” Russell said.
“We’re going forward. You stay here. When you think it’s safe, run in the other direction.” Smith reached into his jacket and pulled out the Beretta. “Take this. It has a full magazine and a laser sight. Do you know how to shoot?”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“And take this.” He handed her his phone. “As soon as you get a signal, call the Anacostia Yacht Club from the contacts list and tell the man who answers that Smith’s theory was right. Tell him Dattar’s here and to send in the police to surround the station, but under no circumstances should they descend into it without face mask protection.”
“How far down on the third rail did you place the bacteria?” Russell asked.
“Twenty feet at least. That means it’s at least one hundred feet from where we’re standing. One of Dattar’s crew thought some was already dead, though.”
“We’ve got to move,” Russell said. “One.” Smith felt Nolan’s palms on either side of his face. One was warm and the other held the gun. The metal was cool against his cheek. She brought his head down and kissed him.
“Two,” Russell said.
“Please don’t die,” Nolan whispered.
“Three.” Russell stepped out with Smith right behind her.
They fired in unison, jogging ahead. Smith reached out and tapped Russell on the back. When she stopped, he pulled her down into a crouch next to him.
“No return fire. I don’t like it,” Smith said.
“I agree. They’re cooking something up.”
“Ideas?”
“None.”
“Then just keep it going,” Smith said.
“One, two, three.”
Smith and Russell started in again. Smith estimated that they were halfway to the next alcove when Smith saw a row of three muzzle flashes of return fire. This time he heard Russell grunt. She staggered back and he grabbed her around her waist with his left arm while he continued to fire with his right. He dropped to one knee, dragging her with him, and felt bits of stone and shrapnel rain down on his head. In front of him and to the far left he saw muzzle flashes from a new shooter targeting their attackers. Howell, Smith thought. He heard a scream as one of Howell’s shots hit home. Russell rolled out of his arm and regained her feet.
“Retreat,” he said. “Aim to the right. Don’t hit Howell on the left.” He fired round after round while he crab-walked backward. Russell was to his left and slightly behind him, and she fired along with him. They made it back to the alcove where Nolan had been hiding. She was gone.
“You hit?”
“Yes. Vest stopped it. Still hurts like hell when they land, though. Knocked the wind out of me for a moment.” There was a fizzing sound. Smith thought he could hear the harmonics of the third rail as the electricity poured through it. He looked at his watch.
“Time’s up.”
48
Dattar heard the third rail come to life and he moved back behind a small portion of wall that jutted out from the stairwell. Khalil, Manhar, Rajiid, and two others from his crew, one bleeding from a shoulder wound, huddled in the space. While he wanted to keep firing, the addition of the shooter from the right as well as the two from the left required that they all take cover.
“The rail’s back on,” Rajiid said. “Let’s go.”
Dattar could barely make out the man’s features in the dark, but it was clear that Rajiid expected him to agree.
“Who do you think is crawling through that tunnel and firing at us? It’s Smith.”
“You can’t be sure,” Rajiid said.
“I saw his face for an instant. I think it was Smith,” Khalil said.
“If he’s here, then he knows about the bacteria. He’ll derail the plan.”