Flee the Night (33 page)

“Ah, see, Lacey, I knew that about you. You’ve always looked to be a part of something greater than yourself. I’m your greatest fan, don’t you see? I’m the one who convinced Director Morgenstern that you could build Ex-6. I kept funds funneling in your direction. I’m the one who made sure no one interfered, even when Ishmael could taste blood. I’m even the one who found little Emily and kept her safe. I’m your savior, because I believed in your big dreams. And now you’re going to save me.” Micah heard another slap and winced. Berg’s voice hardened. “Where’s Ex-6?”

“No wonder you don’t need the prototype,” Lacey said softly. “You already have the copy I made you.”

He chuckled. “Copy? I thought we had the original. I should have known you’d double-cross the NSA. I guess I’ll need your Ex-6 hardware also, Mrs. Montgomery.”

Micah ripped the tape off his eyes. Although dimly lit, the room blinded him with color and distorted shadows.

Lacey was sitting on the cave floor, glaring at Deputy Director Roland Berg. When Micah focused, he saw a trickle of blood run from her lip. He had the uncontrollable urge to murder Roland Berg slowly with both hands around his neck. So much for being an iceman. If anything turned him to fire, it was seeing Lacey wounded.

Lacey didn’t so much as glance at Micah, but he saw her shift her weight. “Why do you want it?” she asked Berg.

He laughed. “I’m a broker. Nothing more, nothing less. I find what people want and connect the dots—for a very nice price. The North Koreans have a need; you have a product. Secrets, Lacey. I’ve been selling them for years. And poor Frank … well, he doesn’t know that the men he hired actually work for me.

“Unfortunately, my contacts in North Korea ran into a bit of trouble with the researchers we sent in. Evidently the researchers made the mistake of trying to bargain their freedom for the code to unlock the gasification program they developed. What they didn’t know is that we had you and your Ex-6. How ironic that the very refinery program you went to Kazakhstan to save is the one you now will be handing to the Koreans by giving them Ex-6. Frank doesn’t know his windfall appointment to the Energy Commission is really my ticket to the helm of Hillman Oil. Or that he’s about to make me and my associates very, very rich. I can’t wait to tell him.”

Berg must have smiled because Lacey looked nearly sick. “I’m almost glad you disrupted our plans seven years ago. Think of the money I would have lost.”

Lacey glared at him. “You won’t get away with selling the secrets, you know. I have other copies.”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. In the end, I’ll be very rich and living somewhere off the grid—”

“Don’t bet on it. I activated Ex-6. As you know, the second

I went online, the NSA started tracking me. They’re probably outside right now, waiting for you.”

“And who do you think they’ll call first? C’mon, Lacey, don’t be stupid. I’ll just show them your dead body and tell them that Mr. Micah here caught you betraying your country. You shot each other in a fit of rage.”

Lacey looked at Micah. “I’d never do that,” she said quietly.

Berg shook his head in disgust.

She turned her attention back to Berg. “I’ll find you. Even if you get away, I will too, and I’ll follow you to the far end of the ocean. You know I will.”

He shook his head. “You know, that is one thing I do believe.” He held the gun to her head. She didn’t even blink.

Micah went cold.

Berg sighed. “It’s time to retire, don’t you think?”

Lacey lifted her chin to stare at Berg with icy eyes. “I agree. I’m tired of running too.” She sprung up, kicked his arm. A shot chipped at the cave wall. She whirled and landed the next kick on his jaw. He hit the ground on his knees as the gun skittered away.

Lacey leaped toward the gun. Berg swept it up and squeezed off a shot toward Lacey. She didn’t even flinch when the shot whizzed past her head.

Micah fought with the bonds around his ankles.

Lacey landed on Berg and straddled his chest. Berg clipped her across the face, sending her flying. Berg launched toward her, rage in his eyes.

Micah ripped the tape. “Lacey!” He bounded to his feet.

Lacey’s eyes connected with his. “Run!”

Micah lunged for Berg, but his leg buckled.

Berg grabbed Lacey by the hair and shoved the gun against her neck. “I should have done this myself seven years ago.”

With a roar of fury, Micah tackled Berg.

Another shot, this time behind him. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Lacey running full out toward another attacker.

Berg’s fist connected with Micah’s jaw and pain exploded in his head. Then Berg pointed the gun at his chest. Micah strong-armed the gun away. Another shot pinged the cave ceiling. Stones showered around them. Micah’s heartbeat swished in his ears; sweat pooled on his neck.

Another shot. Then footsteps, running. He caught sight of Lacey just as she sprinted after the other shooter into a darkened tunnel.

No! Panic shaved his concentration, and Berg wrenched the gun from Micah’s grasp. Micah saw the barrel flash. He blinked as darkness strobed in his eyes. Then he was falling.

He heard the last sound of pain echoing through the cave chamber, the mournful cry of defeat.

Chapter 21

LACEY BACKPEDALED HER arms, stopping short of pitching into the yawn of air ahead of her. The mournful cry of the Korean raised gooseflesh as he descended into some great gulf. Her heartbeat filled her ears. She whipped out her flashlight, panned it across the darkness. Nothing but black.

A shot echoed behind her. She jumped and the flashlight tumbled from her grip, bounced, and fell into the hole.

Micah!

Lacey grabbed the rock, catching herself before she too pitched over the edge.
Okay, don’t panic. Just turn around.
She gulped in a steady breath, turned, and braced her hand on the wall.

She focused on the illuminating truth as she stumbled back toward the cavern, forcing her thoughts on facts, not on the very ugly image of Jim Micah lying in a pool of his own blood.

She felt ill. She could hardly believe she’d played into Roland Berg’s games for so many years. Was this what John meant when he’d told her to stay behind and to trust no one?

Except Micah. She should have trusted Micah.

She ran ahead and jarred into a rock wall. What? Where was the cavern?

Frustrated, she stood in the pitch-black surroundings, straining to see. The darkness invaded her pores, her eyes, her mouth. The smell of mold and the chill of the cavern crept up her pants, her shirt. The cold tightened a fist around her hope.

Please don’t let Micah be gasping his last breath while I wander the corridors of the underworld!

She wanted to scream, remembering him bound, wounded. She could hardly believe he’d somehow worked himself free, only to pounce on Berg just as the traitor was about to drill a bullet into her skull.

She reached out, found another wall, and picked up her pace. She strained to hear footsteps, the sound of scuffling, anything besides her own shuffling footsteps melting into the dark.

Nothing.

Lacey had no illusions that Berg wouldn’t kill Micah or her. Frank Hillman hadn’t been behind Ishmael Shavik after all. In fact, maybe he’d been a victim. One whom she had blamed for years.

Roland Berg had set up the buy in Kazakhstan—after she had told John that the gasification program Frank’s company had developed was nearly completed. Maybe Berg had recruited Frank for his plan, or maybe he’d simply blackmailed him. Obviously Ishmael Shavik had been sent to warn Hill-man—and catch John.

Only she’d disrupted the buy. So who had called in Micah’s unit?

Roland Berg? Of course. To clear himself of implication.

Without Micah’s sacrifice, she would have never known the truth, never unlocked the secrets behind John’s death.

Lacey heard the trickle of water, like the clinking of champagne glasses, rending the fabric of silence.

She stopped. Darkness played tricks with her; light peppered her eyes. Or maybe it was just the memory of light. “Micah?”

Nothing but the sounds of her heartbeat and her breath whooshing loudly in her lungs.

She tensed. Had she heard water before?

Turning, she continued, slower, listening. When the wall curved, she followed it and bashed into another dead end.

Her heart leaped to her throat. Feeling the wall with both hands, she knelt, found an opening at her feet. Would it take her back to the chamber? Obviously she had taken a wrong turn or maybe two. And how long had she been walking? She turned on the light on her watch. It showed 11:30. She stood, turned, and started back in what she hoped was the right direction.

The sound of water grew, along with the rush of her pulse. The darkness felt suffocating. She fought to break free, like she might in a pool of quicksand. But the harder she struggled, the farther it engulfed her.

She sat down, folded her arms across her chest. Breathed in … out. She put a hand to her neck. The transmitter was gone—torn off in Berg’s rage.

“Help, Conner,” she said softly into the swaddle of night, as if she still had it. “I’m lost.”

“Micah, just hold still.” Sarah pushed hard against his reopened shoulder wound. His eyes nearly crossed, and he gritted his teeth.

It made the pain only slightly more bearable to see Conner straddling Deputy Director Berg and tying him up with nylon climbing rope.

“Where’s Lacey?” Micah asked. He’d barely unraveled the night’s most recent events. Lacey jumping the other shooter—a Korean. Conner nearly getting his head blown off as he kicked the gun out of Berg’s hands and inadvertently connecting with Micah’s shoulder. Sarah catching Micah a second before he hit the floor. Hank following Lacey into the black hole.

“Does he know what he’s doing?” Micah asked. “I’d better go after him.”

“Sit down. He’s been hanging around us for three days. It’s time he earned his keep.”

Micah closed his eyes against another rush of pain. “Okay, that’s good, Sarah.”

“You need a doctor and now.”

“Not until we find Lacey. I heard screaming before.” Long before. A breath-stealing pain wrenched his chest.
Please, Lord, no. Please let Lacey be okay. Bring her out of this safely.
He struggled to his feet. “How did you find us?”

Conner stood up, and by the look on his face, the old adrenaline still ran through his veins. Micah had no doubt that Conner would miss the Green Berets as years drew out.

“I had a hunch,” Conner said. “I remembered what you said about Lacey being one step ahead of you all the time, and I guessed that she would try and outwit whoever had you. I didn’t seriously think she was going to just hand over Ex-6, so Hank and I tracked her. When she veered off the trail, Hank figured out where she was going, and we decided to loop around to the opening. We saw the big Korean guy take off inside and ran to catch up.” He gave a one-sided, sardonic grin. “Sorry we were late.”

Micah shook his head. “Do you know who this is?”

“No. We had Lacey wired but lost the transmission shortly before we entered the cave.”

“You’re sitting on NSA Deputy Director Roland Berg. From the gist of their conversation, he’s been a double agent for years. At least a freelancer, working as a mole in the NSA. He set up John and framed Lacey. I knew she was innocent.” That felt good to say … way too good when the woman he loved was stumbling around in the dark. In so many ways.

“I gotta find her.” Micah stalked toward the tunnel entrance. “Billings!”

The sound echoed down the chamber into the folds of the cave.

“I’m here.” Hank appeared a moment later, flushed. “I can’t find her.”

Micah stared into the darkness. “How big is this cave?”

“Miles. It runs under this entire section of Mark Twain National Forest.”

Micah closed his eyes, braced a hand on the wall. “I’ll need water, rope, my helmet, extra lithium batteries, and a space blanket.”

He opened his eyes and saw Sarah’s gaze on him, hard and dark. “No.”

He frowned. Took a deep breath. “I’ll be fine.”

“No … I mean … you should have said
we
.”

Conner hauled Berg to his feet. “I’ll get Dannette.”

Hank stopped on his way out of the chamber. “I’m calling the sheriff’s department. This cave is known to swallow people alive.”

Micah remained silent, feeling like it already had.