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    C James
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Let the Music Play - 45. Blood and Sacrifice

Chapter 45: Blood and Sacrifice

 

The three stadiums that Instinct had played at since returning from Australia had been, thanks to the information they had provided about their tour, thoroughly though fruitlessly examined inside, and at last the teams had progressed to the second half of the order ‘Search them inside and out’.

The Los Angeles bomb had been the first to be discovered. A check of the stadium records had produced an incongruity; some un-ordered landscaping work. A frantic review of the surveillance camera tapes ensued, and the Chevo Landscaping truck was seen entering the stadium and then making its way across the parking lot. The truck had headed for an area that was not covered by a nearby camera, but a distant camera had given them enough of an image to see that something large had been buried.

After some heated discussion involving the capabilities of ground motion sensors and similar possible anti-tamper devices external to the bomb casing, the NEST team had reached the conclusion that sensors placed in the dirt itself were unlikely, due to the difficulties posed by the irrigation system. Sensitive vibration sensors were also ruled out due to the frequent passage of heavy trucks to the nearby stadium freight docks. The one external sensor that was still deemed possible was a visible-spectrum light sensor, so the area was covered with heavy tarps, and the NEST team began to dig, using their bare hands and taking exquisite care, using their infra-red night vision goggles to see in the darkness.

Within the hour, the NEST team leader, after examining the unearthed top of the device and having confirmed that it was emitting miniscule amounts of gamma radiation, reported the discovery to General Bradson, who had assumed de facto leadership of the bomb search by virtue of having acquired the information. Los Angeles was the closest site, so he left Edwards Air Force Base in the Osprey to join the NEST team at Chavez Ravine – the home of Dodger Stadium.


 

On the dirt trail, Brandon stared down at the shattered remains of the SUV in horror and fear as The Shadows began their decent. Eric paced back and forth, restrained from joining the climb only by the fact that he’d slow them down.

Brandon reached for his phone as it began to vibrate, his eyes flying wide as he saw Chase’s name on the caller ID. With trepidation mixed with hope, he flipped the phone open to receive the call. Before he could say a word, Dimitri’s voice in his ear said, “Is this Brandon? I have your boyfriend here. You and I need to meet, or he dies.” Thinking that Brandon was still at the ranch, Dimitri continued, “Send all your biker friends north up the road and start walking south from your ranch. My terms will be simple, safe passage out in return for your lover’s life.”

Brandon didn’t believe Dimitri, but knew he had little choice but to play along. “I’ll do whatever you ask,” he said, focused on the call and oblivious to the fact that Brody was standing right beside him.

Smiling to himself, Dimitri told Brandon, “Leave your phone on, and I remind you; any delays or tricks on your part will prove quite fatal to him, and it will be a slow, exquisitely painful death.” To emphasize his point, Dimitri reared around and kicked Chase hard in the crotch, holding the phone close as Chase cried out in agony and collapsed on the rocky floor. With that, Dimitri ended the call.

Staring at the phone for a moment, Brandon told Eric, Jim and Brody, “That’s the guy who has Chase. He sounds like he thinks I’m still back at the ranch…” Brandon then told them about Dimitri’s instructions and demands.

Eric kept his eyes on the wrecked SUV as he replied, “He’s lying. He thinks you’re the only survivor out of all of us. He also doesn’t know where we are, or that we know roughly where he is. Sure as hell he isn’t in the SUV, but he might see someone heading for it.” Eric waved at The Shadows, motioning for them to stop their descent and return to the shelf road.

Brody glanced again at the tire tracks and said, “The path it took on the road is downhill, so he could have just let it roll over the edge. That means he’s around here somewhere close; he hasn’t had time to get far.” Brody’s eyes returned to the path around the rockfall, and he jogged over to it, careful to keep the rocks between himself and the continuation of the road. As Eric and Brandon joined him, he pointed at the dirt and said in a hushed voice, “Fresh tracks. Looks like some blood, too, where somebody fell, but not much, probably your boyfriend’s.” Brandon swallowed once and met Brody’s eyes, not caring how Brody had found out, but despairing of receiving any further help. Brody shrugged and answered the unspoken question, “I heard some of what he said on the phone. I don’t care about that stuff but you might want to be careful around some of my guys. Some of ‘em ain’t exactly open-minded. Anyway, that’s of no concern now. I heard Chase’s yell, too, and that bastard holding him doesn’t mind killing. We’ve got to find them and take that scum all the way out before he can do anything more. I don’t think we can delay at all.”

After a quick meeting, the hasty plan was put into motion. The Shadows dropped back over the edge and began paralleling the trail fifty feet below its level. As soon as they were past the area of the rockfall, Brody said, “I’ll go up the trail with three of my boys as soon as they let us know what they can see. I’ve got more guys coming over the ridge from the other side, so hopefully somebody can get a shot. It’s your call, but we can either try this ourselves or wait until the damn cops show up. I don’t see them talking him out of this, so my guess is that taking him out fast is our only hope to save Chase.”

Brandon nodded, feeling a chill go down his spine. “I think he’ll kill Chase before he leaves to meet me on the road. I just hope he hasn’t killed him already. One thing though, I’m going in with you. I can fight and I can shoot, and that’s my life he’s got in there.”

“I’m going too,” Eric added, slinging his shotgun over his shoulder.

With a nod up the trail, Jim said, “I’m going as well.”

Brody shrugged. “Suit yourselves, but it’s gonna be dangerous, and I don’t think there will be room for more than three of us on this trail. I’ll follow with some of my guys, but I’ll say this; if you get a shot, take it. Don’t be stupid like in the movies and yell ‘drop it’.” A quick glance in the eyes facing him left Brody with no doubts.

The Shadows, with Zeke in the lead, worked their way along, traversing the mountainside. Most of it was easy enough, but in some places nearly vertical escarpments and the bases of flat-topped spires blocked their paths. Some could be worked around, but others required free-climb traverses, and the steepness of the slope increased the further north they moved. They had no ropes, no safety gear, and compounding the risk was the need to stay silent and covert. Every so often they would stop, and Wilde would check upslope and to the north, trying to spot their quarry. After many frantic minutes, they came to an area of steep mine tailings, badly eroded, which clung to the mountainside. Wilde and Steve shared a knowing look as Wilde whispered, “If I wanted to hole up in the mountains, a mine shaft would be a tempting place.”

Zeke, having the most experience, took the lead again as all three Shadows picked their way up the rough talus towards the remains of the trail.

Spotting a bush at the edge of the drop off, Zeke traversed a few feet, coming up behind it, just past the mine shaft. Peeking over the edge, concealed by a bush, he squinted, peering into the darkness of the shaft. For a few seconds he saw nothing, but then Dimitri moved, taking a peek outside. Zeke ducked down, motioning with one hand for Steve and Wilde, who were twenty feet downslope and cresting the saddle of a protruding spire, to freeze in place.

Once Dimitri had gone back into the shaft, Zeke made his way down the mountainside, finding a ledge with an overhang that offered some concealment from above.

Once Steve and Wilde had joined him, Zeke whispered, “I saw the guy, but not Chase,” Wilde flipped open his phone and dialed Jim’s number, and then handed the phone to Zeke.

Feeling his phone vibrate, Jim, sheltering behind the rockfall, opened it, straining to hear Zeke’s whispered words. He told Zeke, “Keep your heads down and keep an eye out. We’re going in.”

Zeke whispered back, “I’ll go back up. I’ve got a spot where I can see the shaft entrance. If he shows up at the shaft mouth, I’ll send you a text message.”

Eric and Brandon followed Jim as he crept around the rockfall. Brandon trembled as he made the mistake of looking down from the narrow path and over the dizzying precipice. Only his love of Chase gave him the will to continue on. Brody and three bikers followed. Single file, the group crept towards the mineshaft.

On the mountainside below the mineshaft, Steve ignored Wilde’s frantic motions to stay put and began climbing towards the trail.

Inside the mineshaft, Dimitri returned his attention to Chase, who now wore the handcuffs from the slain deputy’s belt, pinning his hands behind his back. Giving him a kick, Dimitri said, “Your boyfriend should be on the road soon. I think I should go down and meet him, don’t you?”

Chase, now doubled over and writhing in pain from Dimitri’s kick in the ribs, tried to stall. “You’re just going to kill us. At least tell me why.”

Dimitri chuckled, giving Chase another kick as he said, “I have no reason to tell you anything. However, I want to know if you told me the truth; have you spoken to the authorities? What have you told anyone regarding your shipping?” Kneeling by Chase’s side, Dimitri unsheathed his bloodstained knife, placing it against the skin of Chase’s arm as a smile of anticipation began to light his face and he added, “I’m going to skin you, inch by inch. Tell me the truth and I’ll kill you quickly. Now, let’s get started.” As the knife drew blood, Chase’s anguished yell echoed against the cold, unfeeling rock of the old mine shaft. Dimitri had some concern about the noise, but assumed that the screams would not carry far. Angling for a better position, and having no intention of stopping no matter what the young drummer said, Dimitri used his legs to pin Chase in place and resumed his knife’s agonizing work, a task he was very much enjoying.

Near the shaft entrance, Brandon, Eric and Jim heard Chase’s muffled though unmistakable yell. Brandon, with no time to think, slammed past Jim, running the few remaining yards to the mine shaft, hoping against hope that he wasn’t too late.

Charging into the tunnel, Brandon found himself almost blind as his eyes adjusted to the light. Paying no heed, he raced on, feeling the cold air of the mine on his bare torso.

In agony from the small strip of skin Dimitri was pulling from the back of his upper arm, feeling every nerve ending howl, Chase glanced up and saw movement silhouetted against the tunnel entrance. Knowing that he had to distract Dimitri, Chase yelled, “I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you, just stop, please stop!”

Chase cried out again, even louder, as Dimitri worked the knife some more, his attention focused on Chase. Brandon, now just feet away, his eyes adjusting to the gloom, raced on, sighting his target. Brandon could make out Dimitri’s shape, and knew that Chase must be on the far side, making it impossible to shoot. Brandon kept running, stumbling along the rock-strewn shaft.

Dimitri, finally hearing Brandon’s approach, sprang up from his crouch, his enjoyment with Chase forgotten, snatching up the AK-47 with his left hand and with a skillful smooth motion, bringing it to bear on Brandon at point blank range.

As he squeezed the trigger, Dimitri stumbled as Chase’s feet found their mark and slammed into his ankles, causing his shots to go wild as his legs were kicked out from under him. Dimitri collapsed, landing backwards on top of Chase. Dimitri felt Chase’s cuffed arms trying to ensnare him, and twisted free, slamming Chase’s head with a grazing blow from the butt of the AK-47.

With a round chambered but unable to fire without hitting Chase, Brandon jumped towards Dimitri, batting the AK-47 aside with a sweeping kick. As the assault rifle clattered away deeper into the tunnel, Dimitri jumped back to his feet, slashing with his knife towards Brandon’s throat.

Brandon stepped inside the swing as the knife hummed past his ear, bringing the butt of the shotgun up in a hard-driven arc that terminated at Dimitri’s jaw. Stunned, Dimitri staggered backwards, falling to the floor as Brandon reversed the shotgun, swinging it around to aim at Dimitri’s torso.

Dimitri felt the course texture of dirt and gravel with his hand and snatched up a handful, casting it at Brandon’s eyes before Brandon could finish pulling the trigger.

Stung by the grit slamming into his eyes, Brandon flinched, pulling up on the gun and sending a blast whizzing over Dimitri’s head.

Brandon chambered another round, trying to clear his eyes while Dimitri flipped over, and scrambled away, half running and half falling in a headlong flight into the gloom of the unlit tunnel. Brandon, unable to see and focused only on Chase, ignored Dimitri and rushed to his boyfriend’s side. Chase, dazed from the earlier blow, watched Dimitri disappear into the darkness, his mind unable to form the words to tell Brandon to go after him.

Brandon hauled Chase to his feet as Jim arrived at a run. Praying that he wouldn’t hurt him further, but afraid that Dimitri would return with a gun, Brandon knew they couldn’t stay where they were. “Help me get Chase out of here,” Brandon gasped, trying to see through his blinking, irritated eyes how badly Chase was wounded, and seeing enough to be horrified by all the blood.

With a guarded glance down the tunnel, and his pistol at the ready, Jim heaved Chase up in a fireman’s carry. With a quick order of, “Send a few rounds down the tunnel and watch our backs,” Jim turned for the entrance, hardly hindered by Chase’s weight as he jogged out of the tunnel.

Brandon swung the shotgun down the tunnel and fired three successive shots in a pattern into the gloom, the gun’s thunderous roar slamming painfully into his ears as it reverberated off the hard granite.

Fifty feet down the tunnel, Dimitri, temporarily unable to find his AK-47 in the gloom, was digging a Makarov pistol out of his supply cache when he heard Jim’s order. Slamming himself flat on the rock behind an oak support beam, Dimitri winced as the shotgun blasts tore by, a few ricocheting pellets kicking up rock fragments which stung his face.

Brandon fired twice more from the tunnel mouth before following Jim and Chase out into the blinding sunlight.

Setting Chase down on the trail near the rockfall, but out of sight of the mine mouth, Jim looked him over and said, “I don’t think he’s critically hurt. I’ll have my guys keep that bastard pinned in the tunnel while we get Chase out of here.

Chase, still dazed, looked up at Brandon, and said the first thing on his anguished mind. “Why did you do it? Why did you kill Eric? You should have let that guy kill me back at the ranch.”

Brandon was about to speak, but Eric, approaching from the direction of the mineshaft, said, “I’m not exactly dead, bro. Brandon fired past me and I played dead.”

As his brother knelt by his side, Chase aimed two unfocused blue eyes at him, wanting to believe, but still doubting his own senses. “I thought you were dead…” Chase said, choking on the words.

Gently, Eric shook his head, a wan smile creeping onto his lips, “I was lucky. Jon’s hit in the shoulder, but he’ll be okay. Helen… she’s hit too.” Eric felt it best not to add how badly Helen had been hit, and he was afraid to dwell on that thought himself. Eyeing Chase’s bleeding arm and seeing that it didn’t look too serious, Eric knelt beside his brother and said, “You’ll be okay, bro.”

As two of Brody’s bikers approached the tunnel entrance, guns at the ready, Steve began to climb up onto the trail, closer to the mineshaft, to greet them, thinking that the crisis was over.

Chase, his mind beginning to clear, coughed once, and struggled to give a warning, “He’s got more grenades! Watch out!” Chase’s words still echoed in the air as a black cylinder bounced out of the mineshaft, coming to rest on the trail. The bikers, facing the shaft, saw it and threw themselves against the mountainside. They were twenty feet away, but Steve was closer and facing the wrong way. He watched the bikers in puzzlement until one of them yelled, “Grenade!”

Steve turned around, just in time to see the grenade explode fifteen feet away. The detonation peppered him with jagged shards of rock, just before the concussion lifted him off his feet, sending him tumbling over the edge of the precipice.

Brody, his ears ringing, yelled, “Lay down some suppressive fire and pull back.” Eric darted towards the drop-off to see if he could help Steve, but Brody grabbed his arm, yanking him to a halt as he said, “The guys down there will get to him first. We’ve got to get out of here before we get hit by any more grenades.”

As they hauled Chase to his feet, a sudden memory made him shake his head and pull free. “No, we have to get the bastard in the mineshaft, now. He’s insane, when he was torturing me, I felt him get hard, he’s fucking sick, and he’s got a trigger. He’ll use it for sure now that he’s cornered, I know he will.”

“A trigger for what?” Brody asked.

“Nukes, like the one that wiped out Toowoomba. That’s what this is all about. He and Jerry were planting nukes in cities on our tour. That trigger will take out Los Angeles and New York. It looks like some kind of cell phone. He couldn’t get a signal from inside the shaft with mine, but he did from near the entrance. If he can get out, even for a few seconds…”

“He’ll destroy both cities,” Eric finished the sentence as he spun around, shotgun at the ready, and began advancing on the tunnel with no doubt in his mind that Dimitri was capable of such an act.

After thinking for a moment, Brandon said, “Wait!” Eric turned back, and Brandon continued, “If we could get the local cell towers shut off, the trigger wouldn’t work, unless it’s some kind of satellite phone. I don’t know how long that would take, assuming that we can get anyone to believe us.” Eric stopped at the edge of the rockfall, but kept his shotgun pointed in the direction of the mineshaft.

Brody blinked in amazement, wondering if the wild story could possibly be true. It didn’t take him long to make up his mind; the Air Force General had certainly seemed to believe the connection, and that was good enough for Brody to decide that it might be true. After only a few second’s indecision, he volunteered to start making phone calls. Chase indicated that he’d help, and at Eric’s suggestion, Chase began trying to reach General Bradson on Brandon’s cell while Brody phoned the sheriff’s department. Seconds later, listening to Brody’s exasperated tone as he argued with the Sheriff’s Department dispatcher, Brandon knew there would be no help from that end, or at least not in time to matter.

With the phone still at his ear, and fearing the result of his words, Chase looked up to tell Brandon, “I don’t think the base switchboard operator believes me. I told her it was about the nuclear bombs and how they are detonated, and that we have a guy with a trigger cornered, and she put me on hold.”

Hearing Chase’s words and figuring that it meant they might have to go in, Jim began digging in the saddlebag of his Harley for supplies.

Knowing there was no other option left, Brandon gave Chase’s hand a squeeze as he said, “I’ve got to do this. We’ve got to stop him.”

“Brand, he had a box for four grenades. That means he has one left, unless he’s got more stashed in the mine.” Feeling his heart break just a little, Chase let go of Brandon’s hand. Brandon turned and followed Eric and Jim, heading for the mine shaft, as Chase fought the urge to call his boyfriend and brother back. He wanted to, more than he’d ever wanted anything, but with so many lives on the line he knew that he couldn’t.

With a resigned shrug, Brody moved to follow, but Brandon turned to say, “Stay here with Chase. There’s not much room in there and we need you here to coordinate.”

Brody nodded his agreement, took up a covering position behind the rockfall, and after a few moment’s thought used his phone to order some of his bikers to cross the ridge from the far side and start working their way down towards the mineshaft from the opposite direction. He also told them to be on the lookout for any other entrances to the mine.

Eric paused at the edge of the mineshaft, peeking around the corner, only to have a bullet miss his head by less than an inch. Ducking back for cover, he said, “I sure wish we had some of those grenades.”

Not liking the odds, and expecting another grenade at any moment, Jim suggested in a quiet voice, “We can keep him away from the entrance with gunfire until the authorities get here, or they cut the phones off.”

With a determined shake of his head, Brandon replied, “Can we trust them to do it right, and in time? What if they say ‘come out with your hands up’ and out he comes, only to detonate the bombs? That trigger could be a satellite phone, it could be anything! Also, what if there’s another way out of that shaft? We can’t risk millions of lives. Those bombs were planted using our tour; we have to do this. I have to do this.”

Eric brushed some dirt off his bare torso. “That goes for me too, plus I’ve got a few scores to settle with that bastard,” Eric said, thinking of Helen and Jon.

Eric’s fierce eyes spoke volumes to the rage he was feeling. Jim nodded his agreement, and with that, by accord, the decision was made: they were going in.


 

Fifty feet inside the mineshaft, though unable to hear the voice outside, Dimitri had the same idea; find another way out. He wondered if there was one. Mines, he knew, often had multiple shafts for drainage, ventilation, and tailings extraction. At least, he thought they did, as he dimly recalled reading that somewhere. Taking a lighter from his pocket, he lit a twenty dollar bill from his wallet on fire, letting it burn for a moment before snuffing out the flame. He held the smoldering banknote still for a few moments, watching the smoke with his flashlight. A broad grin lit his face as the smoke streamed back into the tunnel, showing a strong breeze. That, he knew, made it certain that there was another way out, assuming it wasn’t blocked by rubble. He had already decided to try and detonate the bombs. He could see no reason not to, as their discovery was a forgone conclusion, given what his former captive could now tell the authorities. Cursing his own hasty tongue, Dimitri sent a burst from the AK-47 he’d had time to retrieve rattling towards the mineshaft’s entrance, and then pulled the pin on his last grenade.

Outside the shaft, Eric ducked further back as the staccato chatter of the AK-47 sent a swarm of bullets buzzing like angry bees from the mine entrance. “Anybody see any alternative but to rush him?” Eric asked, dreading the answer.

With a nod, Brandon and Jim signaled their agreement. Jim handed out shotgun shells and while Eric and Brandon reloaded he said, “I’ve got road flares and a flashlight but we can’t use ‘em yet; we’d make ourselves easy targets. Fire at his gun flashes and keep sweeping the tunnel with the shotguns.”

Eric took a deep breath and said, “We’ll go in on the count of three. I’ll fire as we go around the corner, maybe that will keep his head down. One, two–”

“Grenade!” Jim yelled, as the black cylinder bounced out of the mine shaft, coming to rest just a few feet from Eric. Seeing that there was no way to take cover, Eric darted out, into Dimitri’s line of fire, covering the two paces to the grenade as bullets caromed past his body, failing to hit only because Dimitri had taken a one-handed snap shot at a moving target. Not breaking his stride, Eric kicked the grenade before taking a flying leap to the path at the opposite side of the shaft, out of Dimitri’s field of fire. The grenade, with less than a second left on its fuse, flew over the edge of the precipice at an angle as gravity took over, causing it to drop past the level of the path as its fuse reached the detonator.

The resulting explosion, only a few yards away, mainly missed Brandon, Jim, and Eric due to the angle, and instead dissipated itself on the cliff face, dislodging a cascade of small rocks that bounced down the slope below.

Eric scrambled to his feet as Brandon made ready to swing around the corner and fire. Brandon said, “I hope that’s really his last one. Ready?”

Receiving Eric’s nod in reply, Brandon whipped his shotgun around the rocky corner, discharging two rounds down the shaft as Eric did the same from the other side. Brandon moved first, leading the way into the darkness of the mineshaft, moving at a running crouch along the side of the tunnel as he descended into the stygian gloom, half expecting to be riddled by a hail of bullets at any second. Every few paces he pumped and fired the shotgun, hoping against hope that he’d hit something, or at least keep Dimitri’s head down.

A hundred yards into the tunnel and running hard, Dimitri cringed from the sound of the shotgun blasts, wincing as a nearly spent pellet ricocheted into his neck. It stung but didn’t break his skin, and he kept running, aided only by his small flashlight, dodging the fallen rocks that littered the shaft in an increasing number of places.

Brandon, squinting into the blackness, saw the flicker of light and the silhouette it produced, and squeezed off an aimed shot just as Dimitri reached a slight angle in the shaft, evading the hail of pellets from Brandon’s gun by inches.

The old mine shaft was far from safe; the rock was fractured, requiring ceiling joists for support in many places. Those timbers, eaten away by the passage of many decades, were fragile, some having already failed. The shaking from the shotgun and grenade blasts further weakened some of them, and had anyone stopped to listen, they would have heard a low and ominous creaking coming from several of the failing beams.

Slowed by the darkness, Brandon kept up the pace as best he could, but Dimitri continued to pull ahead. Three hundred yards into the mineshaft, Dimitri’s headlong flight was brought to an abrupt halt when a solid wall of rock loomed in his flashlight beam, and he came to a halt at the end of the shaft.

Dropping to a crouch, he spun around and sent another burst from his assault rifle tearing up the shaft into the darkness, causing his unseen pursuers to slam themselves onto the floor as the ricocheting bullets whizzed by. Their ears ringing, no one noticed the rising moans of the protesting timbers closer to the entrance.

Dimitri lit another banknote and snuffed it out. He ducked as a volley from Eric’s shotgun erupted from the darkness, but left his flashlight on to watch the smoke. Seeing no movement, he knew he’d passed any side tunnels. He was trapped. He clicked off his flashlight, trying to decide what to do as the total darkness of the mineshaft closed in.

Robbed of the light from their target, Brandon, Eric and Jim began to creep forward in the darkness until, in the newfound silence, they noticed a deep groan, a crack akin to thunder, and then a rumbling thud coming from the tunnel behind them.

A gust of air blew past them, accompanied by a cloud of choking dust, as the rumbling died down. “Cave-in,” Eric said, in a strained whisper as he struggled to reign in his fear.

Under the cover of the dust, Jim lit a road flare and hurled it down the tunnel in Dimitri’s direction. After covering half the distance, it bounced to a halt, emitting a sputtering red light that was barely visible through the cloying dust.

Under the cover provided by the flare and the dust, Jim flicked on his flashlight and used it to take the lead, advancing in a crouch as he whispered, “Let’s finish this. They can dig us out eventually, but we need to take this guy all the way out before he brings the mountain down on our heads or finds another exit.”

Studying the flickering light of the flare, Dimitri aimed his assault rifle down the tunnel, intending to fire a spread. He was about to pull the trigger when the movement of the flare’s smoke caught his eye; it was coming towards him. That, he reasoned, meant that there was another way out, and it was on his side of the flare. Taking a deep breath, he jogged towards the flare.

He dropped to take cover thirty yards from it, straining to see the route the smoke was taking.

The smoke, mingling with the fine pall of dust, stayed mainly near the tunnel roof, and Dimitri looked up as it passed over his head. Looking behind him, just a few feet, he could see it angling to the right. Flicking on his flashlight, he played the beam over the rough wall of the tunnel. A small rockfall protruded into the shaft, but at its top he spotted a gap of a couple of feet. He could see the smoke and dust moving into the gap, and knew he had a possible way out. Leaping to his feet, he scrambled up the rockfall, hurling himself headlong into the void at its top.

Rolling painfully down the jagged rocks on the far side, Dimitri shined his light ahead, smiling as it lit the way up a small, rough-hewn tunnel in the rock. The tunnel sloped upwards at nearly thirty degrees. It was barely wide enough for his shoulders and only five feet in height, requiring him to stoop. Moving as fast as he could, Dimitri made his way up the tunnel, occasionally having to crawl over partial blockages.

In the main tunnel, Brandon, who had taken over the lead, approached the flare, expecting a volley of fire at any second. Jim handed him the flashlight, and Brandon, even though dreading further cave-ins, rushed past the flare as he fired twice into the tunnel beyond. Jim hurled a second flare, and as it bounced to a halt near the end of the shaft, its flickering light revealed the rock face where the tunnel terminated.

Crouching down for cover, guns at the ready, the three shared a confused look. “He has to be here somewhere,” Jim whispered, “Maybe he’s hiding behind one of those rockfalls, but I don’t think there’s room.

Feeling the slight draft, Eric looked up and saw the motion of the smoke, following it with his eyes to the gap above the nearest rockfall. Pointing at it, he said, “I think he got out. That looks like a way, maybe there are more. Stay here.”

Snatching up the flare before anyone could object, Eric took off at a haphazard run to towards the end of the tunnel, glancing at the rough-hewn and crumbling tunnel walls as he went. Reaching the end with no sign of either Dimitri or another way out, he yelled, “Nothing here, he must have gone that way.”

“Sure, say it loud so he knows we’re coming,” Jim grumbled as he heaved himself into the narrow gap above the rockfall. The one unspoken thought shared by them all; if Dimitri found a way to the surface, he’d trigger the bombs before they could stop him.

Maintaining as fast a pace as he could, Dimitri was already a hundred yards up the slightly twisting tunnel before Jim entered it. Saved by the tunnel’s slight angles from being viewed from behind, Dimitri used his flashlight and concentrated on making the best time he could. His heart soared; if he could get out into the open, he had a chance at hiding and evading pursuit. That hope quickly died as he realized that too many people would be out looking for him. He’d have zero chance. With a bitter shrug, he resolved to trigger the nuclear bombs as soon as he had a usable signal. If he had to die, he wanted to take as many people as possible with him.

Lurching forward over a fallen boulder, Dimitri caught the serpentine shape of a tree root in his flashlight beam, and knew he was nearing the surface. Playing his beam up the shaft, his heart sank as it reflected a solid wall twenty feet ahead. As he neared it, he began to breath again as he noticed that it was merely a sharp turn in the tunnel. Taking the turn, he saw dirt. Turning off his light, he could see, at the top of the mound of dirt blocking the tunnel, a patch of greenish light.

He approached it and leaned forward, pulling himself through the hole headfirst, clawing away the accumulated dirt in order to squeeze through the narrow opening.

Resisting the urge to yell in triumph as he blinked against the glare, Dimitri squirmed, shouldering past the entangling branches of the bush into which he’d emerged. Pushing past it onto the narrow shelf of rock on which it sat, Dimitri looked around, and shuddered. He’d emerged onto a narrow shelf of rock, hemmed into a nearly vertical crevice on the mountainside. Peeking over the edge to look down, his stomach clenched in fear at the sight of the dizzying drop. The shaft he’d just emerged from, unbeknownst to him, had been a ventilation shaft. As such, it had merely been cut to the surface, with no heed paid to providing access to its exit. Dimitri, who despised heights, felt himself tremble.

He reached into his inner pocket, feeling for the nuclear trigger. He flipped it open and turned it on. Like the cell phone it had once been and still largely was, it sought a signal. Dimitri waited, only to growl in frustration as the device failed to find a signal. Glancing up at the rocks, Dimitri guessed that the rocky fins were blocking any signal. He hoped that if he could just get past them he could still detonate the bombs.

He looked back at the shaft entrance, wishing that there were some large rocks he could dislodge in order to plug it. Seeing nothing but the bush and bare, solid rock, he gave up on that idea, hoping that his pursuers were far enough behind him to give him the time he needed.

Peering over the edge, trying to ignore the dizzying heights, he could see a flat area a dozen feet down the almost vertical draw, and next to it, a narrow ledge that appeared to lead around the fin of rock. Trying not to look down, he swung himself around and lowered himself over the edge.

Using the sides of the draw to brace himself, he half climbed and half fell to the flat area he’d seen.


 

Inside the ventilation shaft, Jim struggled up to the exit hole and began clawing at the loose dirt and rock, struggling to enlarge the hole enough to wiggle through. Seeing that it was taking too long, he backed away. He crouched down on the tunnel floor and said to Brandon, “Climb over me, you can get out faster.”

Scrambling over Jim, Brandon pulled himself up over the loose talus, and after a quick look that revealed no sign of Dimitri, pushed his shotgun through the hole and squirmed through after it.

 

Emerging from under the bush, his shotgun at the ready, Brandon inched forward to peek over the edge, only to slam back against the rock as a hastily fired round from Dimitri’s AK-47 creased his shoulder. Dimitri’s voice echoed up the rocks, “Toss your guns out now, or I blow up your cities.”

Jim whispered from inside the tunnel, “Maybe he already has.”

“Maybe, but we can’t take the chance,” Brandon whispered back as Jim crouched down to let Eric follow Brandon.

With no clear shot to take at Dimitri, and anticipating having another gun in his hands within moments – one that would be unknown to Dimitri – Brandon hurled his shotgun over the edge, sending it spinning into the sky below as he yelled, “That’s all I got. The other guys are still back in the main tunnel; there was a cave-in and they’re stuck.”

Dimitri, inching along the narrow ledge, found a handhold and leaned back, extending the trigger as far as he could in search of a signal as he yelled back, “Stay where you are.”

Flat on his belly, Eric squirmed through the exit, pushing his shotgun ahead of him.

Dimitri, intent on the trigger’s screen, saw it flicker as it detected one bar of signal. His thumb moved to press speed dial number five ­– the sequence for New York. The routing sequence code was sent, and then the code, relaying through the still-active local cell system to New York. Inside the bomb, the receiver detected the code sequence, and matched it against the one in its memory. It found that the code was one digit off and did not trigger the firing sequence. The Scar had not wished to risk the detonation of both bombs by anyone other than himself, so he had, unbeknownst to Dimitri, changed one digit in Dimitri’s trigger’s code before giving Dimitri the device in Auckland. However, The Scar had wanted Dimitri to have control over the Los Angeles bomb, and that code remained valid. It was about to be used, as Dimitri thumbed the buttons to select it.

Fearful of what Dimitri might be up to, Brandon, wondering if he’d get a bullet for his trouble, peeked over the edge. Ten feet below, he saw Dimitri’s back and outstretched arm, along with the motion of his thumb. Brandon felt more than reasoned the cause; he just knew; Dimitri had a signal and was trying to trigger the bombs.

Seeing Dimitri swaying drunkenly due to his precarious footing and awkward position, Brandon looked back at Eric, who was pulling himself from the hole, his shotgun in hand, but eight feet away. Realizing that there was no way to get the gun in time, nor even a loose rock to hurl, Brandon knew, in that bitter instant, that there was only one way. Springing forward into a leap, his heart aching with the knowledge that he’d never see Chase again, Brandon pushed off the ledge with his legs, driving himself at a downward angle.

Slamming into Dimitri from the side and above, Brandon’s weight and momentum sent them both flying out from the final ledge, spinning away into space, careening towards the jagged rocks hundreds of feet below.

© 2008 C James

Please let me know what you think; good, bad, or indifferent.

Please give me feedback, and please don’t be shy if you want to criticize! The feedback thread for this story is in my Forum. Please stop by and say "Hi!"

 

 

Many thanks to my editor EMoe for editing and for his support, encouragement, beta reading, and suggestions.

Thanks also to Shadowgod, for beta reading, support and advice, and for putting up with me.

A big "thank you" to to Bondwriter for final Zeta-reading and advice, and to Captain Rick for Beta-reading and advice.

Special thanks to Graeme, for beta-reading and advice.

Any remaining errors are mine alone.

©Copyright 2007 C James; All Rights Reserved.
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Many thanks to my editor EMoe for editing and for his support, encouragement, beta reading, and suggestions.
Thanks also to Shadowgod, for beta reading, support and advice, and for putting up with me.
A big "thank you" to to Bondwriter for final Zeta-reading and advice, and to Captain Rick for Beta-reading and advice.
To Graeme; thank you for your wonderful idea, and your wise council and input at a very critical stage.
And to Bill, thank your for your expert advice.
Any remaining errors are mine alone.
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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Well that is a huge cliffhanger, with no idea of what is going to happen Brandon in that is there going to be some miraculous case of luck as we have seen result from the previous cliffhangers or is it really the greatest sacrifice he could make even after pulling Chase from the grip of death and what is going to Helen is there going to be more luck for Instinct or is it the end of the line for her. Looking forward to tomorrow morning.

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When is a cliffhanger not a cliffhanger?

 

When one is very clearly no longer hanging on and there is no danger.

 

Which proves to be not entirely true here.

 

Which makes this ending a cliffhanger that is not a cliffhanger.

 

If you can follow my meanings exactly. ;)

 

Also, never let it be said that small details never matter - the Air Force operator who put Eric on hold, The Scar's changing one of the trigger codes on Dimitri... very nice use of "what if"s here.

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