Page 57 of A Touch of Treachery (Section 47 #3)

CHARLOTTE

J oan, Gabriel, and I sketched out a plan of attack, then left the library. Joan returned to her room to get some supplies, while Gabriel and I headed outside to his SUV. While we’d been plotting, it had started snowing, and big, fat, fluffy flakes were tumbling down from the sky like icy confetti.

The storm had finally arrived, in more ways than one.

Gabriel opened the trunk and flipped back the cargo liner to reveal several black plastic crates.

He removed the lids, and I let out a low whistle of appreciation.

Guns and ammo glinted inside one of the crates, along with knives, grenades, and other weapons.

Another case held heavy-duty winter gear, and I dug out a pair of ski bibs and put them on over my sweater and pants.

I also dug out a winter hat and peered at the pom-pom on the top. “Does this contain any explosives?”

Gabriel gave me a look like I was a couple of flakes short of a snow globe. “Why in the world would you wear an explosive pom-pom on your head?”

“Never mind,” I muttered.

We’d just finished donning more layers when Joan strode into the parking lot wheeling two suitcases along behind her—the same two suitcases the guards had removed from the honeymoon suite earlier.

“Those look familiar,” I replied in a wry voice.

Joan shrugged. “I packed all the gear, and I’m not letting it go to waste.”

She set the suitcases on top of Gabriel’s crates, and we rifled through the contents, slipping weapons and anything else we thought might be useful into our pockets. Then Gabriel shut the trunk, the three of us climbed into the SUV, and we left the hotel.

Three inches of snow had already covered the ground, and it was starting to stick to the road as well. Gabriel handled the SUV with expert precision, going as fast as he dared on the slick pavement, while Joan and I looked at maps and photos, double-checking our route.

Every few minutes, Joan’s phone beeped, and she finally looked at the screen and grimaced. “Diego wants to know where I am. He says the strike team members at the hotel are looking for me.”

“Are you going to tell him where you are?” I asked.

She slid her phone back into her pocket. “I don’t have to. Sooner or later, he’ll get the bright idea to track my phone. Even if I turn it off, Diego can still track it. And then, well, we all know what will happen.”

Gabriel nodded, his eyes still on the road. “Old man Percy will realize we have a lead on Desmond and send a strike team to our location.”

I didn’t care what the General would do to me as long as we rescued Desmond, although I worried about the consequences for Joan and Gabriel.

We rode in silence for five more minutes before Gabriel steered the SUV off the road and parked in a small lot that fronted a scenic overlook.

“This is as far up the mountain as I can drive in these conditions,” he said.

“Then we go on foot from here,” I replied.

Joan handed out some comms, which we all stuck in our ears. “Check,” she said.

Gabriel and I checked back to her, making sure we could all hear one another. Then we got out of the SUV, crossed the parking lot, and plunged into the woods. Gabriel and Joan both had their guns drawn, but I had a map in one hand and my phone in the other.

We had to skirt around the enormous craters Henrika’s explosives had left behind, but it didn’t take us long to hike up the mountain.

We didn’t meet any resistance. No guards, no cameras, no booby traps.

Not surprising, given the conditions. The storm was getting worse by the second.

Hard bits of snow pelted my face, and the wind cut through my clothes like icy teeth.

I called a halt at the top of a small, rocky outcropping to orient myself.

Despite the cold, I was sweating, thanks to the steep climb, my many layers of clothes, and the heavy gear tucked in my pockets.

And for the first time, well, ever , I was glad my father had dragged me along on all those weekend training missions when I was a kid.

I didn’t know if I would have been able to keep going now without those harsh childhood lessons.

“According to the map, the mine entrance should be around here somewhere. Let’s spread out.”

Joan and Gabriel nodded, and the three of us set off in different directions, although we took care to stay in one another’s line of sight. The last thing we needed was to get lost in the blowing, blinding snow.

“Over here.” Joan’s voice crackled in my earbud.

We weren’t that far apart, but I couldn’t hear her voice in the air over the howling wind.

Gabriel and I hurried in her direction, and Joan stabbed her finger to the right. A large pile of brush had been positioned in front of a rock wall, although the wind had blown some of it aside, revealing a rugged, cavelike entrance that was just wide enough for one person to duck into at a time.

I checked the map again. “This has to be it.”

I slid the map and my phone into my pocket and drew my own gun. Joan and I kept watch while Gabriel cleared away the remaining brush. When he finished, we peered into the opening, but all I could see was darkness.

I looked at Joan and Gabriel. They both nodded and raised their weapons a little higher. I raised my own weapon, then stepped out of the raging storm and into the black unknown.

I activated a light in the top button on the front of my coat so we wouldn’t stumble around in the dark. The narrow passage quickly opened into a wide cave with rough walls. We went in ten feet, twenty, thirty, fifty . . .

Nothing changed, and nothing moved or stirred in the darkness. On the bright side, being in the mine blocked out the howling wind and blowing snow, although my breath still frosted in the air.

“You sure this is the right place, Char?” Gabriel asked, his voice bouncing off the walls in an eerie echo.

“It has to be. One of the Section strike teams found Henrika’s SUVs abandoned not far from here. Henrika, Bryce, and their goons would have had just enough time to cover their tracks, come here, hide the mine entrance, and disappear inside before the strike teams made it up the mountain.”

We kept walking, our boots scraping against the uneven ground.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Joan muttered.

“Not a fan of spelunking?” Gabriel drawled.

“Of willingly walking into a dark, dank hole in the ground? Nope, not a fan,” she sniped back.

I tuned out their chatter and squinted. Was that a light up ahead?

I turned off the button flashlight on my coat. Yes, it was a light, although it was barely discernible. I quickened my steps. The light brightened, although it seemed like it was coming from somewhere below—

Instead of solid ground, my boot found nothing but empty air. I jerked my foot back and had to windmill my arms to keep my balance. When I was steady again, I cautiously tiptoed forward and peered down.

The cave floor abruptly dropped off and sloped downward, morphing into a set of crude stairs that had been carved into the rock.

Gabriel and Joan stepped up beside me, shining their own coat-button flashlights down into the darkness.

Small lights were set into the walls, offering a bit of illumination, but the space was largely dark.

“Okay, maybe this is the right place,” Gabriel said.

“How far down do you think it goes?” Joan asked.

“No idea, but I’m guessing Desmond is at the bottom.”

I tightened my grip on my gun and eased down the steps. I stopped every few feet to look and listen, as well as scan the next steps below for booby traps, but no flares of pink or red appeared, and my inner voice remained quiet.

“What are you doing?” Joan asked, stepping down beside me. “Why are your eyes glowing like that?”

“Don’t you know? Charlotte is an expert at finding traps,” Gabriel replied. “She hears lies too, so be careful what you say around her.”

Joan gave me a thoughtful look. “So your synesthesia does more than just help you spot typos in reports.”

“You have no idea,” I muttered.

Joan followed me, with Gabriel bringing up the rear. The farther down we went, the brighter and warmer it got. By the time we reached the bottom, I was sweating again.

A tunnel stretched out before us. It looked like it had been part of the original mine, but steel beams had been added to support the low rock ceiling.

The tunnel curved to the right, and I thought back to the maps and photos, trying to figure out where we were in relation to the resort.

Unless I missed my guess, we had gone down the mountain to the shoreline and were about to start walking under the lake itself.

“Why aren’t any guards posted down here?” Gabriel murmured.

“No idea, but we need to move,” Joan replied.

She stepped forward, and my synesthesia screamed to life.

Danger-danger-danger!

“Stop!” I hissed.

Joan froze.

“Char?” Gabriel asked. “What do you see?”

I didn’t actually see anything, but my synesthesia kept screaming out a warning.

My magic had only acted up when Joan had moved forward, so I crouched down and studied the ground in front of her.

A bright red glare filled my eyes, centered on a small pile of dirt about two feet in front of Joan’s right boot.

I pointed it out. “See how the dirt is loose instead of hard-packed like the rest of the ground? I’m betting there’s a pressure plate or some other explosive hidden there.”

Joan hissed out a breath and eased away from it. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Let me go first, and step exactly where I step. Bryce and his men probably left more booby traps behind.”

I carefully maneuvered around the pile of dirt. Joan followed me, with Gabriel bringing up the rear. I was right, and we passed two more similar dirt bombs set about twenty-five feet apart from each other.

Shortly after that, the ground morphed from the natural stone and dirt of the old mining tunnel into smooth dark gray concrete. We walked ten feet, twenty, thirty, fifty, a hundred . . .

“How long is this tunnel?” Gabriel groused.

“At least a mile,” I replied. “That would match the distance from this mountain and shoreline across the lake to the resort.”

“So Henrika’s lab is on the resort grounds,” Joan murmured. “We just couldn’t find it because it’s so deep underground.”

The farther we walked, the more doubt and dread crept into my heart. What if Henrika hadn’t come here? What if she had already gotten the information she wanted from Desmond? What if she had already killed him?

No. I banished that thought from my mind. I would not consider that possibility.

Desmond was a trained spy and a strong paramortal. He could hold out—and hold his tongue—for a long, long time, especially about his own secrets. All I had to do was find him, and then we could escape from this place together, just like we had escaped from Tannenbaum Castle a few weeks ago.

The tunnel curved to the right again, and we rounded a corner and stopped. We’d come to a junction, and the tunnel branched off in three different directions.

“Eeny-meeny-miny-moe,” Gabriel muttered. “Any idea which way we should go, Char?”

I pulled out the map of the old mine again, but I couldn’t correlate the three tunnels with anything on the image. This must be a new section Henrika had constructed. I glanced into each of the three tunnels, but they all looked the same—long corridors with metal doors set into the walls.

“No clue,” I replied, sliding the map back into my pocket. “We’re going to have to split up.”

Gabriel opened his mouth to protest, but Joan shook her head. “Charlotte’s right. If we all go down the same tunnel and choose the wrong one, we’ll have to backtrack, and Desmond could be dead by the time we find him.”

Gabriel shut his mouth. A grim look flickered across his face, and he nodded.

“We don’t know how many men Henrika might have down here,” I said. “If you run into any guards, let everyone know via comms, then fall back here, retreat up the old mine tunnel steps, and get back to the surface.”

Joan nodded. Gabriel stared at me a moment before he also nodded.

“See you on the far side.” He raised his gun to his forehead and snapped off a salute before stepping into the left tunnel.

“Good luck,” Joan said, then moved toward the right tunnel.

“We’re all going to need it,” I replied.

I squared my shoulders, raised my gun, and entered the center tunnel.