Page 10

Chapter 10

Dax cursed himself for not getting free of the two men holding him soon enough to put distance between himself and their leader.

If not for that damned stun gun, Dax and Giva might have had a chance to warn the world of what was about to happen.

Now, they were unmoving blobs, lying on the stone floor of an ancient dungeon, the only light shining from the flashlight one of the guards held in the passage outside the dungeon.

Granted, the effects of the stun gun wouldn’t last for long. His toes tingled, and he could already move his fingertips.

“Hey,” he managed to push air past his vocal cords in more of a grunt than a word. With his face and chest pressed to the cold stone, he was lucky to get that much out.

“Mmm,” was her response.

It was enough to give him hope. At least she hadn’t cracked her skull on the stone floor when they’d dropped her.

He tried to move his feet. Okay...his toes.

Yes, he could move his toes, and he was able to curl his fingers into a loose fist.

More and more functionality returned with each passing minute. It just didn’t seem fast enough. Not when they needed to stop the Nexus Collective from executing their plan before so many people were left stranded and starving.

If Shanghai was hit, the Chinese might attempt to handle the disaster on their own. They’d rather allow millions to die than accept help from other countries. They’d done it before during the Chinese Famine between 1959 and 1961. Forty-three million Chinese had died of starvation. It would be harder to hide such an event with modern technology and satellite imagery. But people would suffer and die before they could receive help, no matter who provided it.

“I can move my legs,” Giva said.

Dax flexed his knee. “Me, too.” He bent his knee, twisted his torso and rolled onto his side. Muscle control was quickly returning. Having his wrists secured behind his back made it difficult to sit up, but he finally managed.

Movement behind him indicated Giva was regaining muscle control.

Dax butt-crawled toward the sound until his thigh connected with some part of her body. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I could really use the knives they took.”

He glanced toward the door with the faint glow of a flashlight. “Will a plastic one help?” he whispered.

“They didn’t confiscate it?” she said, matching his lowered voice.

“Can you reach it?” he asked.

“I think so.” She bumped into him several times, scooting and twisting until her hands skimmed across his ankle, feeling for the sheath.

The touch of her fingertips against his skin reminded him of the bed in their hotel room that had yet to have its sheets rumpled.

Dax leaned toward her, his mouth close to her shoulder as he said, “Hurry it up, Sweet Cheeks. We have a raincheck to cash in on.”

Her fingers fumbled, and the sound of lightweight plastic clattered against the stone.

He chuckled in an attempt to calm frayed nerves. “Need a hand?”

“Very funny. As a matter of fact, I could use two. Unbound hands,” she emphasized. “Turn your back to me.”

He scooted around until his back was to hers.

Her fingers felt for his, found the zip tie and maneuvered the plastic knife into the narrow gap.

“Hold it steady. I’ll move,” he said.

She held the knife still while he moved his wrists up and down, pressing the zip tie into the blade.

Moments later, the zip tie snapped.

Dax spun, felt for her hands, took the knife and sliced through her zip tie.

He pushed to his feet, swayed momentarily, then helped Giva stand.

So, they were unbound. Unfortunately, they were still locked in a dungeon with a guard outside the door. Was there one guard or two?

Dax inched his way across the dark floor, following the glow of the flashlight bouncing off the passage wall across from the iron bar door.

The Russian guard leaned against the wall beside the door, swinging the flashlight up and down, shining it against the wall in front of him, apparently bored.

Every so often, he swung the light left then right, illuminating the passage.

From what Dax could see, a guard was on either side of the door. Only one held a flashlight. The other held a little device is his hand.

The damned stun gun.

They’d been told not to let the prisoners out of their sight.

Dax backed away from the door and pulled Giva close, his hands encircling the back of her neck. He could barely see her in what little light filtered through from the flashlight in the passage. “I need you to go to the other end of the dungeon, scream and drop to the ground. Play dead.”

She nodded, leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips. “The man on the left has the stun gun.”

Dax nodded, crushed her to him and kissed her long and hard. “Be ready.” He released her and moved to stand to the side of the door, out of sight if the guards peered in.

Giva moved to the far end of the dungeon, dropped to her knees and let out an ear-piercing scream that echoed off the walls.

She dropped to the ground and lay at an odd angle as if she’d been murdered.

The Russian guards turned toward the door made of metal bars and shined the light into the chamber.

The beam swept across the interior, back and forth, until it landed on Giva where she lay still as death.

For a moment, the guards stared. The one said something in Russian. From what Dax could understand, he asked the other what they should do.

The other man waved the flashlight toward the passage, saying something about going back to get help.

“ Nyet ,” was his partner’s quick response. They’d been told to keep an eye on the prisoners and not let them go. He was worried they would be punished if the prisoners were injured or escaped.

The flashlight beam returned to the chamber and swept the space, looking for the other prisoner.

As the beam neared the position Dax had taken, he flattened himself to the wall, staying out of the light.

The two discussed sending one of them back for help again and finally decided they had to handle it themselves.

The man holding the flashlight took the keys off the hook on the wall and handed them to the one with the stun gun. He pulled a pistol out of his jacket pocket and aimed it toward the dungeon.

The guard with the key shifted the stun gun into his other hand and slipped the key into the lock.

He turned it, urging the man with the flashlight and pistol to cover him as he pushed the door inward.

Dax waited for the man with the stun gun to step through the doorway.

The flashlight swept across the floor again, landing on Giva, who remained motionless.

Stun Gun Guy stepped into the chamber, his hand balancing the stun gun, ready for use.

Dax’s hand shot out, grabbed the man’s wrist and twisted it downward, pressing the stun gun into the guard’s leg.

The man let out a yelp.

Dax shoved him backward into the man holding the flashlight and pistol. The stun gun clattered against stone along with the flashlight, throwing Dax and the man with the gun into shadowy darkness.

A shot rang out, the bullet ricocheting off the stone walls. Dax dove over the downed man, rolled to the side and to his feet.

Another shot rang out.

The flashlight stopped spinning, the beam aiming away from the door.

Dax threw himself low and hard toward the guard with the gun as if sliding into home. His feet connected with the guard’s shins, knocking his legs out from under him, his gun flying out of his hand to land with a metal clink against the stone.

With the light shining in the opposite direction, Dax couldn’t see where the pistol landed, nor could he see the stun gun. His only weapon was the knife he’d slid into the sheath at his ankle.

When he reached for it, his fingers had barely wrapped around the handle when meaty fists swung in the darkness, cuffing him in the side of his head.

He ducked and rolled away, his head spinning.

Before he could get to his feet, the guard launched himself in Dax’s direction, his shoulder slamming into Dax’s belly, sending him flying backward into the passage wall.

He hit the wall hard, the wind knocked out of his lungs.

The Russian had him pinned, his right arm pressed into Dax’s neck, cutting off his air.

With his hand still clutching the plastic knife, Dax stabbed the Russian in the side.

The guard brought his free hand down in a hard chopping motion, hitting Dax’s wrist and knocking the knife out of his grip.

Without the knife, Dax clenched his fist and slammed it into the guard’s side, where he’d stabbed him. Warm blood soaked his fist.

Still, the guard didn’t ease off the pressure against Dax’s neck.

Though he continued to hit the guy in the knife wound, he was weakening. He needed air. Soon.

Light bounced off the wall near Dax’s face, blinding him.

Then, the guard who was choking him to death stiffened and dropped to the ground.

Giva stood behind him with the stun gun in one hand and the flashlight in the other.

The guy inside the dungeon groaned and moved slightly.

Giva bent and hit him with the stun gun again.

The guards laid still.

Dax sucked air into his lungs until his head cleared. Then he bent, grabbed the guard he’d stabbed by the ankles and dragged him into Maas’s torture chamber. When Dax released him, Giva hit him again with the stun gun before he could regain complete control of his muscles. Dax moved the other guard further inside, out of the way of the door.

Giva patted the pockets of one of the guards.

“What are you doing?” Dax asked.

“I want my knives.” Giva stood, holding up the two sheaths of throwing knives triumphantly. After she strapped one sheath to her ankle and the other to her wrist, she stepped out of the chamber, waited for Dax to follow and then pulled the door shut. She grabbed the ring of keys from the ground and handed them to Dax.

After he locked the door, she handed him the stun gun and retrieved the handgun from where it lay against the wall.

Pounding footsteps raced toward them from the direction they’d come originally.

Giva turned away from the sound and ran ahead with the flashlight.

Dax followed, carrying the keys and the stun gun. He could have taken the pistol from Giva, stood his ground and shot whoever was coming. With stone walls surrounding them, it wasn’t wise to get into a gunfight. Even if they missed their target, the bullets would continue to ricochet and could eventually find unintended marks.

Dax might have been willing to take his chances with his own life, but he wouldn’t put Giva at risk. She might have come to the same conclusion based on how fast she was moving away from whoever was headed their way.

At the first intersection, Giva darted to the left.

Dax followed, quickly catching up to her. When the passage ended in a T-junction, she turned right.

Shouts sounded, echoing off the passage walls.

After another turn, Giva came to an abrupt halt, having reached a dead end of a solid stone wall.

Why would someone build a passage to a dead end?

Giva shined the light all around. No trap doors could be found in the floor, ceiling or side walls.

Dax stepped aside, allowing Giva to take the lead again, running back the way they’d come. She took the opposite direction at the T-intersection, the sounds of shouts and footsteps closing in.

The more they ran, the more Dax realized they were lost in the maze of passages and could end up going around in circles or finding themselves back at the command center with more guards ready to take them down. This time, Maas might not be so willing to hold onto them for interrogation.

The Russians wouldn’t let him. Not after they’d injured one and embarrassed them by fooling them into letting them out of the cell.

Giva continued until they came to one of the doors with the metal plate beside it.

Dax pushed the plate upward to find a keypad. He entered the numbers he’d seen the guard use earlier.

The door slowly swung open.

Giva and Dax stood to the side, out of view of whatever or whoever might be on the other side. No one stood on the other side. The room was silent and appeared to be empty.

Giva stepped across the threshold.

“Wait,” Dax said.

She stopped and turned toward him. They didn’t need the flashlight in here. The room was equipped with motion-sensor lighting. As soon as she’d stepped inside, lights had blinked on.

Dax peered into the huge room, noting the conference table with the built-in raised-relief map.

“I know where we are.”

“Good,” Giva said. “I was worried we were lost. Can you get us out of here?”

Dax nodded. “I can get us to an exterior exit,” he paused and met her gaze. “I can also get us to the command center.”

Her brow furrowed. “We’re outnumbered back at the command center. We need to take the information we have to the team.”

“If we leave now, will we get back to Dmytro in time for him to stop what’s about to happen?” Dax stared into her eyes. “Or will it be too late?”

Her brow twisted, and her eyes narrowed. “If we go back, we’re outnumbered,” she repeated. “They won’t let us go again. Then, who will tell the team about the entity behind the EMP attacks? If they succeed with Shanghai, they could target other cities.”

“But what if we can stop Shanghai?” Dax asked.

“What if we can’t?” Giva shook her head. “We have to get this information to the team. Dmytro could stop it. He’s smart. He knows how to hack into systems. Surely, he can get into whatever Maas has developed and shut it down.”

“I’m afraid that if we don’t stop the attack on Shanghai, the world will implode into something even worse than World War III. Too many countries are sitting on nuclear weapons just waiting for someone to pull the first trigger.” He captured her hands in his. “We could end up wiping out humankind.”

She stared up into his eyes and sighed. “You want to go back to the command center, don’t you?”

He nodded. “But I want you to get out and bring back the team, the police and anyone else who’ll believe you that the whole world hangs in the balance.”

She was shaking her head before he finished. “I’m not leaving you down here to handle it all on your own.”

“You just said we have to get word back to the team. One of us has to do that.”

Giva lifted her chin. “Then let me take down the command center, and you get out and contact the team.”

Dax shook his head. “I know the way; you don’t. I’ll take you to the exit and get you out, then I’ll go back while you rally the team.”

“No way,” Giva said. “It would be suicide for you to go back alone.”

“It would be suicide for both of us to go, and you know it.” Dax pulled her into his arms. “I’m not going in with suicide in mind. I have a rain check to claim on one king-sized bed in a fancy hotel with a beautiful woman. You think I’d let that deal slip through my fingers?” He shook his head. “No way. Now, let’s get you out of here and me back to see what I can do to break more of Maas’s toys.”

Though Giva wore a mutinous look on her face, she allowed him to usher her across the room.

They’d only made it halfway when the door behind them creaked and started to open.

Dax grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the conference table.

She dove beneath the dark tabletop and hid behind the decorative skirting that hid the electrical cables and the legs.

Dax dropped to all fours and crawled in behind her. There was barely enough room for one person. Two was nearly impossible.

Giva scooted as close as she could bet to the faux-wood skirting. Dax spooned her body, pressing his front to her back, drawing his legs into the shadows.

As soon as the door had opened wide enough, four Russian guards slipped through, carrying what appeared to be AK-47 rifles. They searched all four corners of the room and shined a flashlight beneath the table, the beam missing the little shadowed area that barely concealed two grown adults.

They didn’t stay long, exiting through the door at the opposite end of the big room.

Once they were gone, Giva stirred. “We should go.”

Dax shook his head. “We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Not yet. They went through the door that leads to the exterior,” Dax said. “The direction we need to go.”