Ibenus (Valducan series) (24 page)

Allan shook his head and look around. "But we should still hear each other."

"Should we go back?"

"I'm almost out," Orlovski shouted. "And I don't want to get thorough just to turn around and do this again."

"No." Allan looked up the passage. "We're almost to the junction. Check Umatri."

Gerhard drew the keris. The blade was still.

"We're over halfway," Allan called back to Orlovski. "Let's get to the rendezvous, see if Malcolm is there, then head back down the other passage. It'd take less time."

"Good enough for me."

Once Orlovski had made it another meter, Allan and Gerhard helped pull him the rest of the way.

"I don't care what's ahead," the Russian grumbled as he crawled to his feet. "I'll fight the devil himself before I'd do that again."

"I wouldn't go that far." Allan clicked his radio off, then on, and shook his head. "Come on, we're almost there."

The passage wound several times before gently sloping down. Occasional graffiti tag still marked the walls. The oldest Gerhard spied was a carving dated 1741, accompanied by a pair of names. Allan continued calling on the radio, but to no effect. Eventually the tunnel leveled out. After another turn, Gerhard's stomach sank when he saw their lights reflecting off the floor, casting the ceiling in red. Flooded.

"This is going to be fun," Allan said.

A narrow shelf, no more than ten centimeters wide, ran along one wall a hand's length above the water's surface. The tiny V-shaped footprints followed it like an earthen highway.

Gerhard clicked his light, strengthening the beam. The passage continued on fifteen meters until it sloped back up.

Orlovski drew his kukri. "Give me your packs."

Allan quickly pulled his off and handed it over.

The Russian pulled it over one shoulder, then accepted Gerhard's. "I'll be beside you in case you slip." He nonchalantly strolled across the mucky water as if walking over firm rubber.

"Just take it slow." Allan pressed his chest to the wall and started down the slender ledge

Running his tongue across the backs of his teeth, Gerhard sheathed Umatri, hugged the wall, and began sidestepping behind Allan. Ages of dirt and grit coated the path, making it slippery, worsened by the uneven slope to it that he hadn't noticed.

Orlovski walked between them, arms ready. Would he be able to stop them if they fell? Gerhard studied the brown water through the corner of his eye. How deep was it? A half meter? Ten? Would his gear drag him down to the bottom? His palms began sweating at the thought.

"…should be there," Max's voice crackled through the radio, giving Gerhard a start.

Orlovski's firm hand found his back before he could fall.

"Hello?" Allan shouted, his voice echoing through the hall and blaring in the ear bud. "This is Allan. Do you read?"

"Yes!" Malcolm replied. "There you are. Sam, Victoria, you there?"

"Here," Sam replied. "You had us worried."

"Is everyone all right?"

"We're fine," Sam said.

"What the hell happened?" Allan asked.

"One of the repeaters, we think."

"How?" Sam asked.

"Duplexer," Chaya said with an annoyed edge. "I think it was trying to transmit and receive on the same frequency. Jamming itself."

"Did you fix it?" Allan asked.

"No. We were heading back when it came back on," Malcolm said.

"Do we know which repeater it is?"

"No way to tell without checking them one at a time," Chaya answered. "They're cobbled together so it's likely a bad solder."

"So do we need to go back to check them?" Allan asked.

"We're almost to the junction where we set the last one," Malcolm said. "We're going to switch it out. What's your twenty?"

"Three quarters of the way to the rendezvous."

"Good. Once we get it replaced we'll meet you there. Without having to check side passages it's a straight shot."

Allan brushed his foot along the path, sweeping bits of rock into the water. "Roger that. We'll see you then."

"So they have a straight path and we get this?" Orlovski muttered, his voice too low for the microphone to catch it.

"Doesn't seem fair, does it?" Allan whispered. "Them sitting around bored while we have all the excitement."

Orlovski snorted.

After several more tunnels, including yet another crawl, they were greeted with red lights ahead as they rounded a corner.

"What took you so long?" Chaya asked as they came into view. They were sitting on the floor of a low alcove. A teal and yellow braided rope was tied around a jutting stone. It ran across the floor and down a round, black hole dominating the center of the room.

"Seeing the sights," Allan said.

Stooping into the alcove, Gerhard peered down the open hole. A bright orange glow stick burned at the bottom ten meters below.

Allan peeled off his pack and sat. "We trust that?" He gestured to the rope.

Malcolm sipped at the drinking tube. "Feels solid. Only one way to know for certain. You all rest for a minute. We'll take it first."

Gerhard sat, his back against the wall, as Malcolm adorned a padded harness. Once cinched in, he looped the rope through a ring shaped like an 8 and clipped it onto the harness. Gerhard watched intently. They'd only given him an afternoon rappelling practice. It was simple enough, but down here he felt as though he was watching it for the first time.

Malcolm tugged the line. "Ready."

Max drew his sword and crawled down the shaft like a spider. "Clear," he radioed once he was at the bottom.

Clutching the rope, Malcolm backed to the edge and slowly lowered over the side. Once down, Chaya pulled the line back up, the empty harness attached to the end, and she put it on. After her came Orlovski.

"You're up…or down, I suppose," Allan said once Orlovski had made the bottom.

Gerhard's knees protested as he rolled to his feet, wishing he'd had more time to rest. He drew the rope up, the harness clips jangling at the end. Once he'd strapped and cinched the awkward harness around his thighs and waist, he clipped the ring onto the front of his belt and locked it in.

"On belay," he said.

Allan tapped his ear. "Say that again."

"On belay," Gerhard repeated, a little louder this time.

Allan's lip curled into a frown.

Before he could say anything, Malcolm called up from below. "Radios down?"

"Down," Allan hollered back. "What do we do?"

"We need to check them. Make sure the girls are okay."

Allan shook his head. "If we wait for you all to climb back out, then go to the entrance, we won't have time to come back and get to what's down there. We'll lose a day."

"We can't leave Sam and Victoria cut off."

"I agree with that. Gerhard and I can check them. You four can keep going and we'll catch up."

"I can come up," Max called. "It's no problem for me."

"No," Allan said. "You stay with them if they need you. It's just a straight shot back."

"Are you sure?" Malcolm asked.

"It's fine. You set up a repeater down there. We still have one, so we'll go back, switch with whichever one is causing the issue, and catch up. Easy peasy, no time lost."

Gerhard waited, trying to make out the voices as everyone discussed below. He wanted to go down, blood a demon. Not run back and forth fixing bad equipment.

"Fine," Malcolm called. "Leave us the harness. Once you have it fixed we'll meet up."

Chewing his lip to hide his disappointment, Gerhard began unbuckling himself. It wasn't that he didn't understand why they needed to go back. He supported the idea. He just wished he'd volunteered to go down the hole before Orlovski.

"Let's go," Allan said once Gerhard had lowered the rope and harness back down. "No rest for the wicked, eh?"

Gerhard drew Umatri and they headed down the passage, keeping at a brisk pace. The tunnel that Malcolm's team had taken to the well was significantly shorter than the one Gerhard had, but the maze-work of side tunnels and branches required Allan to regularly stop and consult the map on his tablet. Even with those delays they made it back to where they'd split up in little time. The repeater Malcolm had already replaced rested on the floor.

Allan knelt before the gray box and flipped the switch. "Testing. Testing."

The radio was still silent.

"Figured that one wasn't it." Allan flipped the repeater back on and they headed further up the tunnels from where they'd come. They passed the creepy mime relief and the rooms they'd previously checked. Gerhard's eyes regularly moved to Umatri, but the blade was motionless.

The sloped tunnels felt steeper than they had when they'd travelled down them instead of up. Gerhard had to hurry to keep up with Allan's pace.

The next repeater sat atop a large flat stone resembling an ancient altar. The ring of spent candles around it only added to the look. Again, Allan clicked it on and off, fidgeted with the unrolled antenna coil and shook his head.

They continued on, finding the third repeater in a long hallway.

"Only one left," Allan said after completing the test.

Gerhard tightened his lips in frustration. At this pace the others might have the lower level cleared by the time they made it back. The tension in Allan's jaw told him that the Englishman felt the same way so he chose not to voice his anger.
A knight shouldn't complain
.

Without a word, they trudged up the long passageway until eventually reaching the wedge-shaped supply room with the painted shadow men sitting along one wall.

"This has to be it," Allan grumbled as he pulled the box out from its niche. He flipped the switch. "Testing. Testing."

Nothing.

"Oh you are kidding me." He flipped the switch on and off several times. "Piece of shit. Work, damn you."

As if it could hear him, the radio suddenly came to life in Gerhard's ear, catching the last word of Allan's frustration.

"Hello?" Allan asked. "Anyone hear me?"

Malcolm's voice came through in reply. "There you are."

"We're here," Sam exclaimed. "What the hell happened?"

"First repeater was out. We'll exchange it and head back. How's it going?"

"Nothing yet," Malcolm replied. "Let us know when you're getting close. Bring extra repeaters."

"Roger that." Allan turned off the buggy repeater, then took one of the spares from a locker and set it in place.

Gerhard packed the last of the extra devices into his bag and loaded the faulty one back into a trunk. Then, not having anything to do, he took a seat on the carved bench.

"About ready?" Allan asked once he was done.

Gerhard nodded. "Yes," a little more exhaustion to his voice than he'd intended.

Allan smirked. "I can tell. No." He waved Gerhard down as he started to rise. "You take a breather." He licked his dusty lips, eyes unfocused. "Sam," he said, his voice loud enough for the radio.

"Yes?" she replied.

"That camera out there that Malcolm set up, it's still there, right?"

"Yeah."

"We don't need that one out there right now, so I'm going to fetch it and bring it back down with us."

"Good idea," Malcolm said.

"Anything else?"

"Cold beer and a hot meal," Orlovski said.

Gerhard suppressed a laugh so it wouldn't clog the channel.

"I'll see what I can do," Allan said. "We'll let you know when we get closer to you."

"Roger that," Malcolm said.

Allan turned back to Gerhard. "You want to come out and get some air or are you good here?"

While stepping outside was definitely appealing, Gerhard was really enjoying this seat. Besides, re-acclimating his night vision afterwards didn't sound enticing at all. He shook his head.

"All right, you just stay there. I'll be back in a minute." He nodded to Umatri. "Keep an eye on him. Call the instant if he moves."

"I will."

Allan lowered and crawled through the wide gap exiting to the old rail tunnel. Removing his helmet, Gerhard ran his fingers through his hair, shaking out the bits of grit that had worked up inside. The ear bud itched. He considered pulling it out but decided against it.

He rested his head back against to cool stone, mind wandering as the grunts and murmurs of Malcolm's team played through his radio. He closed his eyes. How many days of this would they endure before they found this eel? A week? Two? Would he get that first kill or was he resigned to spend the entire time in the back, Umatri serving as their radar?

The radio went silent.

Gerhard opened his eyes, glaring at the repeater. "Not again." Groaning inwardly, he sheathed Umatri, pulled on his helmet, and started to stand.

A figure stepped into the entrance on the far, narrow side of the room.

Gerhard wheeled in surprise. The red beam from his headlamp fell on a man, his narrow face obscured by a set of black goggles, its eyes an array of jutting tubes, two facing front, with angles lenses at either side.

His blond beard, one side smudged with limestone dust, opened into a half smile. He wore a pair of sturdy headphones with knobs on one ear, similar to their electronic shooting muffs at the mansion. A red laser sprang from the pistol in the man's hand as he leveled it at Gerhard's chest. "You must be Gerhard Entz." His voice was calm. American, but familiar.

Gerhard didn't answer.

"You can't call your friends." He patted a bullet-shaped radio at his waist. "So keep your hands where I can see `em."

Gerhard placed the voice. "TommyD?"

"Hands out," TommyD said, a stern edge to his tone.

Gerhard opened his hands at his sides.

"Now, with your left hand, only your left, take Umatri out and set it on the ground."

A new fear bristled and twisted in Gerhard's chest. Umatri? How did he know about Umatri?

"Do it. Slow." The laser bobbed toward the keris as he lifted the gun higher.

Careful, his eyes never leaving TommyD's, Gerhard reached across and gripped Umatri's handle. This man wasn't going to take him. No one was going to take him.

Umatri's grip flexed beneath his fingers, echoing the sentiment. Umatri wanted blood.