He saw Reinhardt standing in the middle of a dimly lit chamber.
But no Ivan or Munoz.
* * *
Czajkowski had watched the mayhem that ensued after the Russian fired into the ceiling. Sonia had radioed the mine manager again and told him to shut off all the elevators going up. Too much chaos was happening to take a chance that their quarry might escape. This way, they were sealed belowground, along with everyone else.
Malone had gone in pursuit.
But Sonia had not insisted they follow.
And he understood.
So far their presence was unknown and it seemed better to keep it that way. But he did not want anyone hurt. Enough blood had been shed already.
He and Sonia had quickly climbed the stairs to Level II and, following the manager’s radio instructions, made their way to where the tunnels began a steady descent back down to Level III, hopefully on the opposite side of where Ivan had gone.
With luck, their target would come straight to them.
* * *
Eli froze.
He’d seen a shadow approaching from the brightly lit tunnel beyond, which had abruptly stopped. Then he’d seen a head take a quick look past the portal’s edge. Munoz and Ivan were ready with their weapons.
Malone was obviously being cautious.
He caught Munoz’s gaze and motioned for him to shift positions, placing his man closer to the doorway, on this side of the opening.
“I’m here, Malone,” he called out. “Why don’t we discuss this?”
* * *
Cotton smelled a trap, but decided to not alert Reinhardt. “All right. Let’s talk. Come on out.”
He waited.
Reinhardt appeared from the darkness.
He stayed to his side of the doorway, offering no one on the other side a clear line of sight. If they wanted him, they’d have to come get him.
“I’m a bit surprised to see you here,” Reinhardt said. “How did you know?”
“Lucky guess.”
Reinhardt smiled. “A funny man? This is quite a serious situation. Yet you think humor in order?”
He shrugged. “It’s only serious for you. I’m on the side of might and right.”
“Come now, Malone. Can’t we be reasonable?”
“Where’s Ivan?”
“Doing what Russians do best.”
And Reinhardt added a sly smile.
Then dropped to the floor.
Shots rang out from inside the chamber.
Rounds whined past and found the salt and timbers farther down the tunnel, ricocheting off. He hoped Stephanie and Patrycja had taken cover. He stayed glued to the wall at the side of the opening.
Reinhardt crawled back inside.
He heard movement in the darkness beyond the doorway. A quick glance showed an empty chamber.
“Stephanie,” he called out behind him.
“We’re here.”
“I’m going after them.”
“The elevators are not working,” Patrycja told him. “They’ve been shut off from above.”
Which meant something more was happening here.
Stephanie and Patrycja appeared and hustled his way.
“Where does this route go?” he asked.
“It winds back around to the main areas, past the lakes,” Patrycja said. “To the stairs.”
“You two head up, any way you can. Keep these bastards down here. Don’t give them a way out.”
Stephanie nodded and she and Patrycja retreated toward the elevators.
He headed the opposite direction.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
Czajkowski stood inside a chamber filled with lit display cases that exhibited salt crystals in all colors, shapes, and sizes. He’d taken refuge here while Sonia assessed the unexpected situation. He wanted to be in charge, as always—he was president, after all—but realized that he had to keep a low profile. If they managed to contain this he could not afford to be exposed any more than he already was. Bad enough that the mine manager was aware of his presence, and that he’d pulled rank with the order to shut off all the cameras. So the fewer people who knew anything, the better.
“There’s more shooting below,” Sonia said as she hurried into the room. “Visitors have scattered. They’re trying to get them all up to Levels I and II. The mine manager says he can’t keep this quiet much longer. There are safety concerns and his security people are pushing hard.”
He caught the message. This has to end. Now.
“We need to get down there,” he said.
“Janusz.”
He loved when she used his name. Which was rare.
“I can’t risk anything happening to you,” she said. “Don’t put me in that difficult situation. I need to get down there. Will you wait here?”
“I’m the president of this country and your boss. This is not open to discussion.”
She tossed him a quizzical look. “You’re going there? Pulling rank?”
“I am.”
“Big surprise.”
She shook her head, then unzipped one of the pockets in her coveralls and removed a semi-automatic pistol.
She handed the weapon over.
“I assume you know how to use it.”
“Absolutely.”
* * *
Eli followed Ivan and Munoz.
They’d laid down gunfire trying to hit Malone, but failed. It had provided them, though, with enough cover to flee. Now they were in a long traverse that led toward another low-ceilinged chamber displaying ancient mining equipment. They kept moving, unsure of their destination, only that they had to get back to ground level. But how? Malone was on their flank and none of them knew what lay ahead.
Ivan waddled along, heavy-legged but spry for a big man, a gun in one hand, the plastic pack in the other. Good thing Jonty had thought ahead and properly protected the information. Malone had to be proceeding with caution given that he, too, had no idea what was waiting for him.
They entered an open corridor that ran twenty meters straight ahead, sloping upward, a tall salt wall to the right, a wooden railing on the left overlooking a small lake beyond.
A strange sight so far belowground.
The clear water lay still like glass, the bottom illuminated by underwater lights that cast an eerie emerald glow. Obviously there had to be somewhere for all the water that seeped down to go, so lakes seemed a reasonable solution.
Ivan stopped. “We cannot keep running.”
“What do you suggest?”
The big man pointed down at the water and a short set of stairs that led to a tiny dock, where two boats were tied. Eli studied the lake and saw that there were several exits where the water flowed out into black yawns.
“You’re assuming one of those will get us away from Malone?” he asked.
Ivan nodded. “Not us. Me. We need split up. Give Malone choices. I go in boat. You two keep moving ahead.”
“And do what?
“Find way out. Get away. Disappear. Enjoy your money. Our business is done.”
There was wisdom in the strategy. Particularly from his standpoint. Malone had to be after the information, but he’d have no way of knowing who possessed it. Best guess? Not the broker. The Russian. The one who fired the shot.