“How many people are trapped there?” she asked.
“At least five thousand. Might be as many as ten though. Apparently they provide them with the same amount of food each day. General Ngige sets the minimum quota for lithium extraction. If they achieve it, they get the food if not they go hungry. Same amount of food every day.”
“Lots of people would starve.”
“They just replace them with more prisoners. It’s a good deterrent to rebellion. Think of the Gulag in Russia. A system where you were worked to death. You build a place so much worse than anyone can imagine and they’ll do their best to behave.”
“So, how do you want to work this?” Genevieve asked.
“Adebowale. I’ll let you explain the plan.”
Elise brought up the detailed digital map of the mine. She switched on the overhead projector and the image displayed on the whiteboard in the Maria Helena’s mission room. It showed a maze of tunnels spanning eighty-four levels. At higher levels the tunnels were scattered and sporadic as though they had kept having to change direction to avoid breaking into the lake’s bed. From the tenth level and below, the tunnels became extensive. Long, deep shafts, extending miles in all directions. Three of the mines appeared open and accessible, while the fourth appeared flooded.
Adebowale stood next to the white board and pointed to the three tunnels that ran beneath the lake. “If we lay dynamite along the entrance to these three tunnels we can cause a series of cave-ins which will create a natural barrier from the lake’s water when General Ngige’s men trigger the release of the water. Then my men will take out the guards, and the prisoners will run free.”
Sam looked at John. “Did you want to join us?”
John smiled and shook his head. “No. This mission has no place for me in it. But I wish you well with your endeavor. I truly believe this is in the best interest of the future.”
Sam turned to Zara, “What about you?”
“Me?” she asked, her eyes turning to avoid his gaze. “I think you greatly overestimate my resources. I won’t be useful in a jailbreak.”
“Genevieve can pilot the helicopter on her own,” Sam said. “But it will be a lot easier with a second set of eyes to navigate. It will also help when she returns for the pick-up rendezvous point, after we complete the mission.”
She breathed in and then swallowed hard. Her cheeks flushed slightly red. “Then in that case, I’m afraid you overestimate my altruism. It sounds like a worthy cause, but it’s not my fight. Nostradamus never would have predicted me to actually be involved in the operation. When it comes down to it, I’m too selfish. I really wish you luck, but I don’t think I will be coming.”
“That’s okay, I understand. It’s not your fight. Heck, it’s barely ours.” Sam smiled at her, reassuringly. “Then again, Mikhail may be trapped down there.”
The simple comment stopped Zara in her tracks. She let the words sink in, and then met Sam’s gaze directly. Her hazel-green eyes, piercing and dominating. She shook her head. Her hardened stare giving way to hope. “Damn you, Sam Reilly. I had accepted that he was already dead, and now you go ahead and do a thing like this — you better pray to whatever God you believe in that he’s still alive and you haven’t given me false hope.”
He asked, “Shall I count you in, then?”
“Damn you. Of course, I’ll join the team. But don’t bother trying to return to the helicopter until you find him, or at the very least know exactly what happened to him!”
“I’ll do my best.” Sam turned to the rest of his team. “What do you think?”
Genevieve looked up. “Just one problem.”
Adebowale asked, “What’s that?”
“How do we get inside the mine?”
Adebowale said, “That’s where I’m going to need Mr. Reilly’s help.”
Chapter One Hundred and Four
The Legacy 450 banked gently to the left and settled onto its final approach. The chartered eight-person luxury jet landed smoothly on the blacktop runway. It was the sort of landing where one had to think twice whether or not they were still in the air or on the ground. It had taken six hours to travel from Malta to Bangui on the private charter. Sam glanced out the aircraft’s large side window. At the edge of the small airport, a helicopter’s rotor blades began to turn.
Adebowale caught Sam’s attention. “As promised, you have a Jet Ranger waiting for you. It will be fully fueled, and ready for Genevieve to take-off by the time we finish loading the equipment — no questions asked.”
“Good.” Sam turned to Genevieve. “How long’s it been since you’ve flown a Jet Ranger?”
“Years.” She smiled. “Nearly a decade.”
He asked, “You going to be okay?”
“Definitely,” she said. “It’s like riding a bike.”
Sam nodded. He’d been a pilot most of his life. Different helicopters had their own nuances, but once you’d learned to fly, it was in your blood. Besides, the Jet Ranger was a relatively forgiving helicopter.
The Legacy 450 stopped at a private hangar, hired for the next twelve hours only. Sam moved to the back of the aircraft. Tom had his legs resting on the empty leather chair that faced in toward him. Using the two chairs as a bed, Tom was in the sort of deep sleep of the dead. Sam kicked his feet off the chair and Tom slipped to the floor.
Tom looked up. “Hey, I was enjoying that rest. What’s up?”
Sam said, “Sorry. We’re on the ground. Time to go to work.”
“All right, but on the way back I’m sleeping for twenty-four hours straight.”
“On the return flight, sleep as long as you need. And when you wake up, we’ll start our hunt for the temple where Billie’s being kept prisoner.”
Tom stood up. His eyes suddenly wide, as though he’d been forced back into the moment. The need for sleep was replaced by urgency. He picked up his duffle bag. “Let’s get this thing done.”
Ten minutes later, they had loaded the Jet Ranger with their dive equipment and three RS1 Military Grade Sea Scooters. Zara sat in the navigation seat, and Genevieve quickly inputted the coordinates into the GPS in front of her, giving Zara a brief overview of its functions. Genevieve brought out the topographical map, and showed her the main reference points.
Sam slid the back door closed and popped his head into the cockpit. “We’re good to go.”
Genevieve nodded. “All right.”
A moment later, they were in the air. In the back of the helicopter, Sam, Tom and Adebowale quickly changed into their wet suits. Sam finished laying out his dive equipment, and turned to set up a second set for Adebowale.
Sam looked at Adebowale, “Have you ever dived before?”
“Once. I was on vacation in Hawaii. A friend from college convinced me to give it a go. I did a half hour introductory dive in about six feet of water.”
Sam cringed, “That’s it?”
Adebowale nodded. “That’s it. But I assure you: I will be fine.”
Sam attached the dive regulator to the tank and opened the air intake valve. He inflated the diving vest, known as a buoyancy control device, and handed it to Adebowale. “How do you feel about confined spaces?”
“Comfortable. I spent time in this very mine as a child. Again, rest assured, Mr. Reilly. I will get through the submerged section, if it’s still possible.”
Sam nodded. It was as good a chance as they were ever going to get. He carefully laid out a rectangular piece of cloth on the floor of the helicopter. Then, almost ritualistically, he placed his Heckler & Koch MP5 on it. The nine-millimeter, German designed, submachine gun was popular with military divers around the world, because its sealed chamber gave it excellent reliability even fully submerged. He removed the magazine, opened the chamber and checked that it was free from any bullets. It was clean and its parts were well oiled. He then tested the firing mechanism. It tapped forward with a firm clicking sound. He grinned. “All right.”