Дэвид Балдаччи - Hell's Corner

“That bitch!” screamed Chapman as another bomb detonated in front of them, causing Stone to veer off to the left with the others right behind.

“Oliver, what about the way you came in?” called out Finn. “She might not know about that.”

“She does know about it but we’ve got no choice,” Stone replied.

A section of wall toppled over, nearly crushing Caleb. However, Finn and Knox pulled him to safety with a second to spare. But Caleb moaned and clutched his shoulder where a chunk of rock had struck.

Finn pulled open his shirt and shone a light on him. “Collarbone’s cracked. But you’re okay. Collarbone’s the fail-safe. It breaks so another more important part doesn’t.”

“Makes me feel so much better,” groaned Caleb.

When Stone reached the kitchen area he stopped and stared helplessly at what was in front of him. Friedman had been ahead of him on this too. She’d collapsed the entrance to the back of the kitchen with a thick wall of debris that had cascaded down from a charge no doubt having been placed in a perfect spot to accomplish this. And even if they dug through that, Stone knew they would just confront another, even thicker wall of rubble. Friedman would have seen to that.

She did her homework.

He briefly wondered how long ago she had had Murder Mountain ready to go. And was she somewhere nearby, detonating these charges? Was she somehow watching them, knowing exactly when to set off each one? And then he had no more time to wonder, as everyone looked at him.

“What now?” said Chapman breathlessly, her face, like all the others’, caked with grime from the dust and smoke.

Stone looked upward as another charge detonated, though not nearby. But more of the facility collapsed and the mountain gave another shudder.

Then the lights went completely out, plunging them into darkness.

Stone, Finn and Knox immediately powered up their NV goggles. Stone took Annabelle’s hand, Knox took Caleb’s and Finn clamped his hand around Chapman’s wrist.

“Follow me,” said Stone.

There was one more way out of here. And as far as Stone knew, he was the only person who had ever discovered it. This was their last chance.

He was very conscious of the fact that he had no idea where the next charge Friedman had placed would detonate. She had no reason to allow them to leave here alive, where they could tell people the truth. Each step they took could truly be their—

Annabelle screamed.

Joe Knox disappeared under a pile of rubble as a charge detonating fifty feet away collapsed the section of wall next to him. The others instantly began digging the man out. Stone was on his knees pitching chunks of debris off his friend. His fingers and arms bloodied, the sweat stinging his eyes, he frantically worked in the dark to free Knox. Finally, his fingers touched flesh. In two more minutes they had uncovered the man completely.

Knox was breathing, but unconscious.

Stone started to lift him up, but Finn said, “Let me do that.”

He hoisted the two-hundred-pound Knox over his shoulder.

“The only other way out is up, Harry,” said Stone.

Finn nodded, a grim look on his face. “Just lead the way.”

Stone took the length of rope from Knox’s knapsack that the man had used to help rescue Caleb from the tank of sludge. Each person looped the rope around their middle and then passed it on.

“Let’s move,” said Stone.

He prayed that Friedman had not figured out the third exit from Murder Mountain, as he had done all those years ago. He led the group across the main hall and down to the other end. Stopping in front of what looked like a sheer wall of metal, he ran his fingers up and down its surface. It was cold to the touch, still strong, seemingly impenetrable. Rivets ran up one side of the panel and down the other. Another explosion shook the building. Dirt and dust tumbled down on them from the weakening ceiling.

He pressed on one spot and the wall gave way. He slid the metal out of the way and a set of crude rock stairs was revealed. They went through the opening and headed up.

Stone wondered how long it would take for the authorities to realize what was happening. Some local would report the explosions. This would be relayed to the sheriff’s department or whatever police was up here. They would send someone, probably a single officer, and that person would have no idea what they were faced with. Calls would be made. At some point, after a lengthy interval, the CIA would hear of it. They would send a team up here helter-skelter.

But what would they find?

They would find exactly what Friedman wanted them to find. Dead Russian muscle, possibly tied to the drug cartels. And a nanobot research facility where long ago the CIA had trained its assassins. That would hit the national and global news pipelines like a nuclear warhead.

And they will find us, thought Stone. They’ll find us dead.

But how would she accomplish that last part? The explosions might seal them in here, but they could conceivably survive until rescuers arrived. They had some food, some water. There might be supplies here they could use.

She would have thought of that. There has to be something else.

They kept moving. When Finn grew tired, Stone hefted Knox over his shoulder and carried him for as long as he could. Then Finn swapped back. But as the route took them upward, it became harder and harder to manage. Yet they kept going.

Chunks of rock now dropped from above with each detonation, since they were in parts of the facility that had never been built out, where the mountain had been left untouched.

Annabelle gasped, “Where are we headed?”

Stone pointed up. “Not much farther.”

“Is it on top of the mountain?”

“Close to it.”

“Is there a way down?”

Stone didn’t answer right away. Actually he didn’t have an answer. He had used this exit before, finding it mostly by accident one night when he couldn’t sleep. But he’d never gone down the mountain. He’d just looked at the stars, had a few moments of peace before heading back and taking up his training once more. So he didn’t know if there was a way down the mountain. But there had to be. He would find one.

He glanced back at Finn, who was carrying Knox. He looked at Caleb clutching his injured shoulder. He looked at exhausted Annabelle. He felt his own legs tremble from extreme exertion.

“We’ll find one, Annabelle,” he said. “And being outside the mountain is better than being inside it.”

They traveled upward another hundred feet. Every time they came to a cross-tunnel Stone had to stop and think about which one was the right one. Twice he made the wrong decision. On the third time he went on ahead alone until he was sure of the way and then came back and got the others.

Finn said in a low voice to him, “Knox is not doing well.”

Stone knelt down beside the injured man and shone his light on his face. It was gray, sweaty, but cool to the touch. Stone gently lifted one of the man’s eyelids and hit the eye with the light. He let the eyelid fall back into place and rose.

Knox didn’t have much time left to live.

“Let’s go.”

Chapman said, “Is it my imagination or is it getting harder to breathe? I didn’t think the mountains in Virginia were that high.”

“They’re not,” said Stone. He took a long breath and it caught halfway in his chest as the amount of oxygen drawn in petered out.

Now Stone had his answer. Friedman was going to suffocate them. Down below he heard machinery operating.

“Fans,” he said. “Taking the air out.”

He took another whiff and his features involuntarily seized up.