Дэвид Балдаччи - Daylight

Lily led her down a set of steep stairs that ended in a stone passage that smelled of mold and age. At the end of the passage was a door.

“It’s open,” said Lily, looking alarmed.

“Saves me the trouble,” replied Pine. “Now go!”

Lily flew up the steps and out of sight. Pine pulled out her Beretta backup and started down the hall.

The musty, fuggy odors increased as she moved down the passage. Pine glanced at the walls. They were a mixture of old stones and aged brick. The floor was stone as well. And the temperature had dropped about fifteen degrees. The illumination was a series of single light bulbs with a power line snaking between them.

She rounded a corner and found a partially open door facing her. She eased up to it, trying to move as silently as possible. So much for military quick-strike teams and an overpowering force from the FBI.

It’s just me and my two guns until the cavalry gets here, if it ever does.

She slowly peered around the door and two things caught her eye.

A pair of women’s shoes that she recognized as belonging to Blum.

And a military dress jacket with its myriad ribbons, no doubt belonging to Robert Puller, was draped over the arm of a wooden-backed spindle chair.

Pine had a sense of inward relief. If their things were here, it was a safe bet that they were, too.

She didn’t want to open the door farther, afraid that it might make undue noise. Instead, she squeezed her body past it and entered the small room. There was a hallway running off to her right where the passage no doubt continued.

On a foldup table next to the chair were two empty pizza boxes and three open beers. Pine hoped whoever she was about to confront had been drinking. It might slow their senses long enough to let her prevail against what would undoubtedly be superior numbers.

She stopped to text her location and how she had gotten into the house to the FBI team and Puller. Thankfully, the text went through, even this far down and with stone walls and ceilings.

She continued on down the passage, listening intently for any sound that might give her some intel on who was down here and where they were. Ten more seconds passed, and she heard something that made her freeze.

The raised voice said, “So how the hell do we get out of this?”

It was Franklin’s voice. It was tense, angry, and blunt.

The next voice was Gorman’s. Pine recognized it from when Gorman was playing the role of police officer after gunning down Jerome Blake.

“Calm down, Nora, I have this covered.”

“Bullshit. I told you that you never should have taken them.”

“And what exactly did you want me to do? She was filming us in the hotel. She met with Robert Puller in an alley and they were discussing us. Did you want me to just let them walk away?”

“I am telling you that the FBI is about to come down on us like a ton of bricks.”

“One agent, this Atlee Pine, put that notion into your head. I have feelers out everywhere and I’ve heard nothing of the kind.”

“She’s a good liar, that Atlee Pine,” said a new voice.

Pine’s fingers tightened around both guns.

It was Lindsey Axilrod.

Axilrod continued, “She knows a lot, too much, but she doesn’t know about either of you. She just thinks this is about drugs.”

“Now you’re the one lying,” snapped Franklin. “She told me about the penthouse. She’s figured out its true purpose. How the hell did they find out about that?”

Axilrod groaned. “Shit, Tony. He must’ve found out.”

“And she mentioned Warren Graham.”

Gorman snapped, “She’s full of crap. If Graham were onto us I would know, trust me.”

“Well, we have to get rid of Puller and the woman,” said Axilrod. “And we have to do it now. And then I’m going to find Pine and slit her throat.”

The next moment Pine kicked the door open. One pistol was pointed at Gorman, the other at Axilrod.

“Well, here’s your chance,” said Pine.

They all three turned to the doorway. Franklin screamed as Gorman grabbed her and put her between himself and Pine. He held a knife blade against the woman’s neck.

“Put down the gun or she’s dead.”

“That won’t be happening,” replied Pine. “So slit away.”

Axilrod heaved a chair at Pine and she had to duck. A second later the trio fled out of sight and continued down the passage.

Two shots fired at her kept Pine from charging headlong after them.

She waited a few moments and then peered around the corner. She jumped back as another shot tore a chunk of the wall off. Some of the shrapnel cut her cheek.

She peered back around the corner, saw the hall was clear, and hustled down it. She launched sideways, rolled, and came up firing as another man, large and beefy, charged at her from another doorway. Three rounds from her Glock hit him in the chest, and he slumped against the wall and slowly slid down it, dead.

She kept going and started to sprint as she saw a doorway farther down the hall start to open. She left the floor, leaping forward, then landed a devastating kick against the door, slamming it backward and catching the man behind it flush in the face.

He screamed in pain and tried to lift his pistol.

He never got the chance because Pine crushed his hand between the door and doorjamb. He dropped the gun, fell to his knees, and caught a kick right under his chin, lifting him backward. The back of his head banged into the wall, and he slipped into unconsciousness.

Pine heard someone scream.

It was Blum.

Pine rushed into the room and around a corner. And stopped dead, her chest heaving and both pistols held out in front of her. She had a myriad of targets.

And two hostages. Three, if she counted Franklin.

From above them, they heard the cacophonies of sirens.

As she faced off with Gorman and Axilrod, she also was looking at Robert Puller and Carol Blum. They were both bound and gagged. And Gorman was pointing one gun at Blum’s head, and one at Pine, while Axilrod had her weapon pointed at Puller. Franklin was cowering on the floor in the corner.

“We seem to be at a standoff, Agent Pine,” said Gorman calmly.

“I don’t see a way out for you,” said Pine, lifting her gaze to the ceiling for a moment. “The cavalry is almost here.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“I’m not sure what you expect to get out of this,” said Pine.

“We have hostages. That gives us leverage. You want these people alive, there is a price to be paid.”

“I would imagine that you know the FBI does not allow kidnappers to walk out with hostages.”

“Then they’re dead. Are you prepared for that?”

Pine forced herself not to look at either Blum or Puller.

“I won’t be the one pulling the trigger on them. But if you do, I will pull the trigger on you.”

Gorman shook his head and smiled. “Goes with the territory.”

Pine said to Axilrod, “That go for you, too, Lindsey? Are you sure you can pull the trigger with that bum hand?”

The woman just stared back venomously at Pine and said nothing.

“You need to become more nuanced, Lindsey. Your poker face sucks.”

“You’re not walking out of here alive, Pine,” snapped Axilrod.

“If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard that.” She glanced at Franklin, “Well, Congresswoman, where do you stand on all this? You ready to go down with the ship?”

Franklin fought back tears and whimpered, “I... I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, thanks for the help,” said Pine derisively.

The sirens had stopped but now they heard feet thundering above them.

Pine slid her fingers right up to the triggers on both her guns.