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Authors: Caridad Pineiro

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BOOK: Sins of the Flesh
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“You okay?” Mick asked as he undid his seat belt.

“Fine,” Caterina answered. She quickly crept from the car toward the protection of the dune.

He went to the back of the Jeep and removed his M16 assault rifle and satchel. At the dune’s edge, he slipped on his night vision goggles and peered above the rim of the dune, using thick tufts of marsh grass for cover.

A bullet plowed into the sand a few feet away. A good sign. Mad Dog had lost sight of them, but the shot had exposed Mad Dog’s position at the top ledge of one of the crumbling battery buildings. A chain-link fence with posted trespassing warnings lined the perimeter of the building.

From this angle Mick couldn’t get off a killing shot. Plus, he suspected Liliana was hidden well below ground in one of the old ammo storage areas. If he and Caterina could swing around the edge of the dunes and enter one of the farthest battery buildings, Mad Dog would likely fall back to where he held Liliana captive, counting on the traps he had presumably set to take out Mick and Caterina.

Mick crawled back down to where Caterina was hunkered at the bottom of the dune and swung the rifle strap over his shoulder. In the barest of whispers, he explained their next moves. “At the end of this dune there’s a chain-link fence. We need to get past it and into the nearest building.”

He returned to the Jeep and pulled a small bolt cutter
from the back. With that in hand, he crept along the dune’s edge to the first accessible section of fence. To distract Mad Dog, he picked up a large clamshell and tossed it back toward where he had grounded the Jeep. The clamshell landed with a noisy clatter on the hood of the Jeep.

Mad Dog opened fire much as Mick had expected, giving him the opportunity to cut through the bottom section of the chain-link and pry it up and out of their way. Unfortunately, the jangle of the metal fence alerted Mad Dog to their real location.

Mad Dog shot in their direction, but not before Mick had gotten a clear look to confirm where they should enter the crumbling battery building. Rifle in hand, he crouched down close to the high dune. “I’m going to give you cover. When I start firing, run straight ahead. You’ll see a rusty metal door that’s hanging half-open. Go through that doorway and wait for me. Understood?”

“Understood,” she said. At his nod, she slipped around him to wait at the dune’s edge.

“On three,” he said and counted down.

On three Mick stood up and opened fire on Mad Dog’s position. Caterina charged ahead, straight for the opening.

Bullets struck the ground behind her, sending up bits of dirt. She reached the door unharmed, too quick for Mad Dog to hit.

Ducking back behind the safety of the dune, Mick took a deep breath before he began his way through the fence. He would be exposed for a few moments while he tried to fit through the opening, but there was no other choice.

Mick ducked through the opening and came up firing, but not before he felt a stinging burn high up on his arm.

He ignored the heat that said he’d been hit and plowed forward to the door and past its rusty exterior to where Caterina waited for him within.

“Thank God,” she said as he joined her. She laid a hand on his arm but pulled it away immediately.

Caterina looked down at her hand, wet with his blood. “He shot you.”

“A scratch,” he said, and meant it. The bullet had only grazed his arm.

Sensibly, she didn’t argue with him. There was no turning back, so it made no sense to waste time in such a fashion.

Mick examined the interior of the building. The whitewashed cement walls were damp in spots, rust-stained in others, and showing extreme signs of decay. If the tunnels were in similar condition, they would be treacherous in and of themselves. Plus he had no doubt Mad Dog would have rigged at least one booby trap in the tunnels near where he held Liliana.

“Keep close behind me. Watch where I step. Do the same.”

At her assent, he headed to the rusty stairs leading to the battery tunnel.

Fuck. He had underestimated Carrera, Mad Dog thought as he picked his way across the crumbling roof to the climbing gear he had used to get up there in the first place. The interior of the building had been too uncertain to navigate.

He rappelled down the side of the building and onto the weed-choked ground. The area was littered with bits
of rubble from the disintegrating structures. He crouched down, picking his way back to the rear entrance and the tunnel where he had stowed Carrera’s sister.

Morales was waiting for him by the entrance, a sly smile on his face. When he approached, Morales said, “You understand what you need to do.”

As if he hadn’t understood all along. Not to mention that he didn’t much care for people interfering in his plans. “I get it, but I don’t like your kind of insurance.”

Morales clucked and shook his head. “Santiago understands what to do and when. You’ll thank me for the help when this is all over and you’re two million dollars richer.”

Only the pay raise made Mad Dog willing to tolerate Morales’s interference. “I’d make myself scarce, Dr. Morales. It’s going to get hairy around here.”

“I believe I’ll do as you suggest,” the other man said, heading toward the public parking lot a short distance away from the battery buildings.

Eager for the fight, Mad Dog made sure he had a full load in his rifle and ducked into the tunnel to finish the job.

CHAPTER 37

T
he stairs leading up the wall barely held Mick’s weight. The rungs on the opposite side leading down into the tunnel had disintegrated beyond use. He sat on the ledge of the wall and waited for Caterina to top the rise. “I’ll help you down.”

When she was settled on the ledge of the wall he turned and, using his upper-body strength, lowered himself down before dropping the last few feet to the ground.

Caterina was a fast learner, copying his move and falling to the floor with little need of his assistance, reminding him of the strength that Edwards’s experimentation had produced in her.

“Show-off,” he teased.

“I have a good teacher,” she said and offered up a hopeful smile.

Mick gestured to the wide vaulted tunnel before them. “Remember, step where I step. Mad Dog probably laid some traps.”

Caterina nodded and Mick cautiously entered the passageway, keeping his eyes open for signs of tracks that might lead him toward Liliana, or for any trip wires or other traps. He moved carefully but not slowly, since each
second of delay at this point could risk his sister’s life. Caterina was sure-footed behind him, following his lead and orders like any good soldier.

When their tunnel met with another one, Mick held up his hand and Caterina stopped behind him. Ahead of them along the tunnel floor were tracks in the sand and dirt that had drifted in through the gaps in the walls.

Mick flipped up the night vision goggles he had donned and resorted to using the flashlight from his belt. Sweeping the flashlight back and forth along the floor, he noted signs that someone had been dragged down the corridor, as well as occasional spots darkening the ground.

“Is that—”

“Blood,” he finished for Caterina. A chill sweat erupted on his body at the thought of Liliana being hurt, but he reined in his reaction.

Calm and logic had to be in control.

He bent for a closer examination of the tracks, and something gnawed at him. These tracks were deep. Deeper than he expected given Liliana’s weight.

Keeping that point in mind, he rose and entered the second tunnel, carefully following the trail left behind in the dirt and sand.

He had not gone more than twenty feet or so when he caught the glint of something close to the ground. He held up his hand and Caterina paused behind him. Crouching down, he gingerly reached out and encountered the recognizable bit of metal—a trip wire strung across the width of the tunnel at ankle level.

Peering beyond the trap, he saw that the area appeared clear. The drag marks continued onward as far as he could see in the darkness within the passage. Another fifteen ahead,
there was more water along the tunnel floor, seeping in through breaks in the wall. A large chunk of the ceiling had collapsed and lay strewn along the ground. The tracks seemed to sweep around that debris.

Mick glanced over his shoulder at Caterina and pointed to the booby trap. “There’s a trip wire here. Be careful as you cross.”

She confirmed his instruction with a nod and he rose, stepped high over the trip wire. Moved ahead just enough for Caterina to clear the booby trap as well.

At the puddle of water and spill of debris, he hesitated again, searching for another snare, but the area was clear. He picked his way past the rubble, treading carefully. Knowing that each step brought him closer to saving a woman he loved and possibly losing a woman he loved.

He couldn’t live with either choice.

The momentary distraction of that thought cost him.

The floor gave way beneath his foot a second before totally collapsing. He grabbed at the air and one hand found temporary purchase along the lip of the cement floor. His body slammed against the side of the wall in the hole into which he had fallen.

He picked up his other hand, reaching for the floor, struggling to keep from plummeting the rest of the way down, and encountered Caterina’s hand.

She grabbed hold of him, her grip strong.

“You okay?” she asked as she poked her head over the edge of the hole. She was lying on her stomach along the floor.

“Could be better,” he admitted and risked a glance downward. The drop to the ground was at least another
ten feet. Too far to fall without injury, although the water at the bottom might cushion his drop.

He was about to ask her if she could help him up when she slowly began to pull him upward.

As she did so, he got a better hold with his other hand. Working together, they lifted him out of the hole.

“Forgot how strong you were,” he admitted once he was back on the ground and sitting beside her.

“Another trap?” she asked, and leaned over the edge of the hollow to look downward.

Mick shook his head and joined her at the edge, peering into the deep well, examining its circumference and depth before it occurred to him what it was.

“It’s an old Nike missile silo,” he said and glanced upward where a round metal hatch sat above the cavity, confirming his impression. Water dripped in from around the edges of what had likely been a gun battery during World War II.

“I should have been more careful,” he said aloud, angry with himself, but she laid her hand over his, the hand that had just saved him, now comforting.

“You’ve been careful, but you can count on me to help.”

He could. She was level-headed. Strong, as she had just proven. Not to mention the camo thing.

“I won’t forget that again, Cat. When it comes down to the fight—”

“I’ll be there,” she reassured with a gentle squeeze of his hand.

“Roger. Let’s head out,” he said and rose, careful to skirt the edges of the missile silo. Even more vigilant as they neared the end of the tunnel and the rusted metal
door, which he assumed would lead to the ammo storage area where Liliana was being held.

Mick paused at the door and signaled Caterina to take a spot by the opposite wall. Dropping into a crouch, he pushed the door open a bit with the muzzle of his rifle. It groaned from the movement, and the sound produced an immediate response.

Rapid-fire gunshots, probably from an AK-47, pinged against the metal doors, driving him back from the opening.

Mick dropped to the ground, proceeding hand over hand toward the opening again. The door had remained partially open, and as he remained behind its protection he peered within the ammo room. Even in the dim light he perceived a figure strapped to a chair in the center of the space.

Dead center.

Another burst of gunfire sounded against the metal door and ricocheted back into the room, driving him back to consider how to breach the area safely.

Mick judged the barrage of bullets to have come from the right side of the room.

He couldn’t enter without exposing himself or Liliana to danger.

Looking up toward Caterina, he said, “No matter what, stay put.”

Before she could respond, he crawled back toward the opening and called out, “This isn’t much fun, is it, Mad Dog?”

Mad Dog answered with another volley from the AK.

He cursed beneath his breath, but forged ahead with his plan. “Getting soft on me, Mad Dog? Too scared for
a little
mano-a-mano
again? Might be more interesting than just wasting ammo.”

The scuff of a foot on cement sounded loudly in the room. “Scared, Carrera?
Mano-a-mano
it is,”
Mad Dog said.

A shadow became visible, falling against Liliana’s feet as she sat in the chair. A clatter followed as a clip for an AK hit the floor beside the chair.

Mick rose from the ground, but remained behind the protection of the door. Releasing the clip on the M16, he tossed it close to the chair as well.

“Now this is going to be fun,” Mad Dog said and stepped into Mick’s line of sight. He had no doubt the other man had at least another gun somewhere on his body, but for now, the AK was useless. To further prove it, Mad Dog dropped it to the ground by the chair.

BOOK: Sins of the Flesh
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