Sam studied the beam’s waning intensity and pointed it toward the next connecting passage. “Then we’ve got no time to waste.”
The ground sloped upward as they entered the long tunnel-like cave. Sam led them hurriedly through the maze of stalagmites that jutted from the floor like fangs. The precious light faded with every step. The flashlight was dimming to the point where it was more a comfort than an illumination when they found themselves in another large cavern, with a glimmering pool of water at the far end. Sam was halfway to the water when the batteries died and they were plunged into complete darkness. He reached out his hand to Remi, who sensed his proximity and took it. She repeated the gesture with Lazlo, and together they crept slowly nearer to the water’s edge.
“Now what?” Remi asked when Sam stopped.
“We rest while we figure out our next move,” Sam said.
Remi bit her tongue, as did Lazlo — there was nothing to say that would help their situation and complaints wouldn’t do any good.
They sat down, and Remi leaned forward to touch the surface of the pool. The water was cool, and, after sniffing her fingers, she cupped her hand and brought some to her lips.
“It’s fresh,” she whispered. “Which means it’s being fed by a source.”
“At least we won’t die of thirst,” Lazlo muttered.
“We’re not going to die,” Sam said, conviction in his voice, as he peered around the cave.
“That’s reassuring, but it would be more so if we knew where we were or had any hope of finding a way out,” Lazlo groused.
Sam ignored him as he slowly stood. “Remi, is it my imagination or is there a tiny bit of light coming from about three-quarters up the wall to our right?”
Remi’s eyes scanned the same direction. “I don’t see anything.”
Lazlo shook his head in the dark. “Afraid not, old man.”
“I’m sure I see something. I’m going to try to get up there. There’s a rubble pile along that wall. Hopefully, it will support me,” Sam said.
“Are you sure rock climbing in the dark is a good idea?” Remi asked softly.
“What’s plan B?”
Sam felt along the edge of the water, following it around to where it met the cave wall. He steeled himself as he willed his eyes to adjust, but he couldn’t see his hand in front of him — only a pin spot of faint light from somewhere up the jumble of rocks and debris, now gone due to the angle. Unless it was all a hallucination.
Sam instinctively glanced at where his watch would have been if his captors hadn’t stripped it from him and swore under his breath. He had no idea how long they’d been prisoners, much less in the caves. It felt like at least half a day, possibly more, and he realized that he didn’t know whether it was still light out or not — or whether the light he believed he’d seen was a new dawn or some new unthought-of danger.
Sam felt along the rock pile, testing the rubble for stability, before pulling himself up a few feet. Visions of venomous snakes nesting in the crannies flashed through his imagination, as his fingers touched the edges of another rock, and he willed the image away.
He heaved himself up another couple of inches, but one of the rocks he was using to stabilize his feet gave way and he slipped in a shower of gravel and dust, scraping his hands as he grappled for a hold. His fingers locked onto another, larger rock and he stopped his fall, taking a moment to catch his breath once he was sure he wasn’t in any immediate danger.
Remi’s voice floated across the water to him. “Are you okay?”
“Just a little slip. Wouldn’t be any fun if there wasn’t a challenge to it, right?” Sam said.
He’d give anything for thirty more seconds of light, but those were the breaks. If he ever wanted to see anything again, he’d have to earn it.
Another hold, another few inches of progress, then another, and another, as he painstakingly moved up the rubble pile, the occasional clatter of a loose stone tumbling to the bottom his only reward. As Sam ascended, he noticed that the rocks were getting smaller and he allowed himself the luxury of hope — perhaps on the other side of the imposing wall lay freedom and the landslide he was now climbing had created a breach in the stone.
He groped with his left hand above him and edged higher and then stopped, afraid to breathe. Just above his head was a chink in the rocks. Only a hairline crack, but he could smell jungle wafting through it — and he could feel the humid heat of the outdoors, faint but real.
Sam felt for any loose rocks and was able to shift a football-sized stone half an inch. He worked it back and forth and a scant moment later the rock fell down the pile, leaving a hole he could just fit his arm through — and from which drifted the unmistakable rustling of vines and dim glow of moonlight.
He redoubled his efforts and within minutes had created a large enough opening to squeeze through. He turned and looked down to where he could now make out the shadowy forms of Remi and Lazlo in the gloom. “Well, don’t stand there all night. Our chariot awaits.”
“I don’t suppose you have any tips for the best way to scale this mound of debris?” Lazlo asked.
“Carefully,” Sam shot back.
“I’ll bear that in mind.”
Remi came first and, not unexpectedly, made it to Sam’s position in just a few minutes. Sam helped her climb through the aperture, ignoring the trickle of small rocks knocked loose by her passage, and she pushed through the vines into the night.
Lazlo took three times longer, climbing gingerly toward Sam and freezing in place every time a stone gave way and tumbled below. When he finally made it to Sam, he was panting like he’d run a marathon and he had to stop to rest before making the final effort to clamber through the gap.
Sam followed him out, the temperature increasing at least thirty degrees once he was in the jungle air. A thin scythe of moon hung overhead, bathing the area in a pale wash. Sam brushed dirt off his shirt and then moved to Remi and hugged her close, whispering in her ear as he held her.
“That didn’t go exactly as planned.”
She pulled away and held his gaze. “But we’re out. And Leonid could be lying in a crevice with a broken back.” She glanced around the hillside. “Time to earn your keep, Fargo. Which way do you think the road is?”
Sam thought for a moment and then tilted his head to their right. “That way. I caught a glimpse of ocean through the trees as I climbed out.”
“Then let’s get going. Vengeance may be a dish best served cold, but after being kidnapped, tied up, threatened, and chased, I’m impatient for a little payback.”
Sam nodded. “Me too.”
CHAPTER 47
Jeffrey Grimes sat on the terrace of his lavish contemporary home on the waterfront of Sydney Harbor, watching the sun sink into the southern ocean. Smooth jazz pulsed from hidden speakers near the floor-to-ceiling pocket doors as he admired the play of light on the waves that stretched to South Head and the Hornsby Lighthouse in the distance. He took a long pull on his Cuban Montecristo Gran Corona cigar and studied the glowing ember with satisfaction before resting it in a crystal ashtray and leaning back in his chair.
The call he’d received earlier had put a smile on his face. Guadalcanal was in turmoiclass="underline" rioting and looting had started shortly after the most recent rebel action, and several pliant MPs had advanced a bill in an emergency meeting of Parliament that effectively nationalized the key industries he was interested in. His mystery partner had assured him that now the primary opponents to nationalization had been neutralized (he liked that word—“neutralized”—a term that was far more civilized and professional than the more vulgar “murdered” or “assassinated”), it was just a matter of a little more time, and a few more dollars spread in the right places, and their scheme would come to successful fruition.