Iris Johansen - Eight Days To Live

She whirled and headed for the trees.

“WHAT IS IT?” JANE GOT out of the jeep and gazed at the sign that was posted on the barbed-wire fence. “What does it say?”

“Contaminated. Deadly.” He swung open the gate. “Words to that effect, I believe. I don’t speak Russian.”

“Russian? In the middle of Syria?”

“Yes, the Russians did some bacteria experiments here during the Cold War.” He got back in the jeep. “Do you see that huge building over there? It was the main lab before the accident. One day there was an unfortunate leak in one of the tanks, which killed several scientists and about two hundred workers. They examined the ground surrounding the lab and decided that it was going to be deadly for the next century. The installation has been deserted ever since then.”

“ ‘Unfortunate leak,’ ” she repeated.

“Unfortunate for them. Fortunate for the chosen. The temple is in the mountains directly behind the lab. Hadar made sure that it was well hidden in the rocks, and it was safe for centuries as long as it was guarded. But modern-day technology made it more difficult to conceal.” He smiled. “So we decided to take advantage of the lab. After the accident, the Syrian government was only anxious to conceal the deal they’d made with the Russians. The Russians discreetly pulled out of the area.”

“And you falsified reports that the land was contaminated.”

“We have friends in high places. No one dares come near the lab now. So our members are entirely safe from discovery when they come to the Offering.” He parked in front of the rear door of the installation. “And Millet was able to build his secret tunnel from the lab to the temple.” He pointed to a bluff some distance away. “The temple is behind those massive boulders. The main entrance of the temple faces the other way.” He took out a flashlight from the glove box. “We’ll go in the back door.” He started to laugh. “It just reminded me of Adah. She was always fond of using the back door.”

THE PASSAGEWAY WAS LONG, dark, and winding, the ceiling barely seven feet high. It’s like the tunnels in tombs I visited in Egypt, Jane thought.

“Keep up,” Roland said, beaming his light on her face. “Mustn’t hang back. I’m judging that we may have another forty minutes at most before Millet comes roaring back. We have to be on our way before he gets here. Only a little farther to go. We should be under the Offering Room now.”

Under the Offering Room.

She deliberately slowed.

“Frightened?” Roland asked softly. “It’s easy to be brave and self-sacrificing when you’re not this close to the end.”

She stopped. “But you said that it wasn’t the end. We made a deal.”

“And of course, I’ll keep it.”

She didn’t move.

He pushed her forward. “Go!”

She staggered, lost her balance, and stretched out her hand to the wall of the passage to catch herself. “Don’t touch me. I can’t see anything. Shine that beam ahead of us.”

The beam focused on the dark corridor, and Jane strode forward. “Let’s get out of here. I hate close places.”

TROBELL WAS GOING TO MAKE a move, Caleb thought. But he couldn’t tell when or how.

The bastard was hard to read and when Caleb went in and tried to manipulate him it was like wading through tar. He was blank yet focused. Caleb had run across an occasional schizophrenic who had that same mental profile. Trobell was very likely genuinely insane.

He glanced at his watch-5:50. He’d been waiting until six to move, as he’d promised Jane, but Trobell seemed to be on his own schedule.

“You’re watching me,” Trobell said. “You want to kill me.”

“Do I?”

“Roland said whoever she brought would want to kill me.”

“And what are you going to do about it?”

“I’m not going to kill you.” He turned away and pulled out his gun. “Yet.”

The next moment he was gone, running for the trees. No, running toward one particular tree where Kandor, Roland’s coin expert, sat.

Kandor’s eyes widened as he saw the gun. “What are-”

Trobell shot the man in the chest.

Then he was whirling on Caleb.

But Caleb was gone, drawing his own gun as he streaked toward the trees, zigzagging in and out as Trobell got off two more shots.

Get to cover, then go on the offensive, he told himself. Too early, but he’d done his best to delay.

Sorry, Jane.

No, that was a lie. He wasn’t sorry that he had an excuse to break free and go on the hunt. He was never sorry about that. He was just sorry that he’d have to struggle to strike a balance that would please both him and Jane.

He’d reached the trees and glanced over his shoulder.

Trobell was starting after him.

“Come on,” Caleb murmured. “I have time. I’ll wait for you. Let’s see how good you are…”

“THE DOOR THAT LEADS TO the corridor by the Offering Room is just ahead,” Roland said. “It took longer than I thought to get through the tunnel. We’ll have to hurry.”

Jane’s pace quickened. “Then stop talking and let’s go.”

“One more thing.” He pushed her against the door. “I’m sure you have a weapon, and gestures of good faith can only go so far. If one of those guards searched you, it would be all over.” He reached into her windbreaker pocket and pulled out the 38 Special. “Nice efficient weapon. I’m sure you’re very competent with it.” He slipped the gun in the pocket of his own jacket. “You’re very competent at most things, aren’t you?”

“Let’s go,” she said through her teeth.

“But I have to add one more touch of authenticity.” He slapped her with such force her head snapped to one side. “That does it. Your lip is even bleeding a little.” He tore the front of her shirt open. “Now you look like a suitably abused prisoner.”

Her lip was stinging, and she wanted to punch him in the gut. Don’t fight back. Not until I get to Eve. “And you enjoyed it.”

“I believe I did.” He reached behind her to open the door. “I’m not generally a brutal man, but you’ve caused me a great deal of trouble.” He pushed her forward. “You’ll forgive the roughness, but the first guard is right down the corridor. We have to impress him.”

“NO!” EVE SAT BOLT UPRIGHT on the cot as Roland pushed Jane into the room. “Dammit, Jane, why? It’s not going to do any good. He won’t let me go.”

“I know.” Jane moved across the room. “You look terrible.” Eve’s eyes were sunk and dark-rimmed. She touched her forehead. “And you’re burning up.”

“You shouldn’t have listened to them.”

“Can you walk?”

“Of course I can walk.” She looked at Roland. “Who are you?”

“Roland,” Jane said. “He tells me that he’s going to get us out of here. Isn’t that right, Roland?”

“You sound skeptical. And after all I’ve done.” His phone rang, and he glanced at the ID. “My friend, Trobell.” He answered. “Roland.”

He listened, then said, “Yes, you’ve done everything right. I’ll be there to pick you up shortly.” He hung up. “It seems that your friend, Caleb, had a fatal accident. His neck is broken.”

She stiffened with shock. He was lying. He had to be lying.

Dead eyes. She could see Trobell’s face before her.

No, there had to be a mistake.

But Trobell had been on the phone with Roland.

“I’m sorry.” Roland’s mocking gaze was on her face. “You appear to be upset. Was Caleb more than a business acquaintance?”

She wouldn’t believe it. Caleb might have left Trobell alive, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t control him. But what if that hadn’t happened?