The King's Tomb

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

They moved out of range of the wall and Hawke detonated the explosives. In the enclosed space the explosion was much fiercer and quickly filled the tunnel with heat and smoke. For a moment, it seemed that it would never clear, but the draft blowing down the utility corridor behind them sucked the smoke away and they were good to go.

They moved forward, Devlin still laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Reaper asked.

“Sorry, still thinking about a talking egg taking a shit on that wall.”

To Hawke’s relief, the next section was also precisely as Alex had described from the schematics and they were able to step over the destroyed wall and climb up inside the access tunnel without any problem. As expected, they soon reached the final hurdle.

“I see the manhole up ahead,” Hawke said, wiping the sweat and grime from his face.

“Hopefully it should move out of place. We’re directly inside the compound now and blowing it will make more noise than a Chinese New Year.”

“No one’s blowing my manhole,” Devlin said with a chuckle.

Scarlet looked at him with sympathy. “Oh, Danny. Really?”

He shrugged. “I just throw ’em out there.”

Hawke carefully raised the heavy cast-iron manhole plate an inch or so and scanned to see if the coast was clear. “We’re good to go,” he said. “Bang smack in the middle of the courtyard just as we thought.”

Leaving their packs behind, they climbed up out of the sewage pipe in silence and after replacing the cover they crossed the courtyard in the darkness of the night and slammed their bodies up against a wall. In the safety of the shadows, Hawke spied the route they needed to take to get inside the Torture House.

Hawke heard the faint sound of men talking somewhere above. Looking into the courtyard he saw the shadows of the roof in the strong moonlight. He could clearly make out the shadows of two men up there. “Two guards on the roof,” he whispered. “At least.”

He scanned the courtyard and saw several guards’ rifles stacked in tidy tripods in the corner. “Looks like they’re ready for trouble.”

“I think they’re always ready for trouble in a place like this,” Devlin said.

When the two men were out of sight, they silently crossed the courtyard and reached the door they were looking for. It was beneath the corner of a classic Chinese gabled roof and shaded from the bright moonlight by a veranda.

Through the door now and inside to find a man behind a desk. He looked up with confusion, eyes wide. Hitting an alarm, he reached for a pistol on his desk but it was too late.

Hawke smashed a hefty punch into the man’s jaw, twisting his head around on his neck and knocking him over onto the floor. Kicking the man out of his way, he blinked in the bright light. Where was the door leading to the cells?

He saw it on the other side of the room, partially obscured by a large curtain, but another man entered the room and lunged at him. Hawke managed to land a haymaker on his temple, but the man rolled with the blow and fired one back at him, driving a tight, bony fist into the side of Hawke’s face.

His head was knocked to the side and his vision started to slip out of focus. Stars swam all over the room and through those stars he saw the man completing a three-sixty twist and bringing his fist around for another attack. He watched as the man rotated at his waist and fired the second punch, but the stars had gone and he ducked just in time to miss the impact.

Behind him, Reaper and Devlin were engaged in a heavy fist fight with a number of other soldiers who had entered the room from the courtyard. Scarlet was moving ahead and opening the door that led to the cells.

The Frenchman and Irish Ranger took out their opponents just as Hawke drove a heavy fist into the man’s stomach and blasted the wind out of him. As he bent double in pain Hawke brought his knee up into his face and smashed his nose into a pulp. Working fast now, he grabbed the man’s hair in his fist and yanked his head back before powering a final punch into his face and knocking him clean out.

Reaper slammed the door shut and Devlin slid the bolt.

Ahead, Scarlet yelled out to them. “This is it! I see the steps.”

They ran down a dark stone staircase until they reached a small space that looked like a dungeon. Three doors on either side and only one of them lit from the inside.

“That’s it.” Hawke charged forward and tried the door.

Locked.

He shoulder barged it. It shook in its frame but stayed put. A second one and more progress.

Now he heard screaming from inside the room.

Lexi’s voice.

The third charge broke the door down to reveal the horrifying sight of Lexi Zhang tied to a bed, but no sign of anyone else.

“Lexi!”

“Joe! Am I glad to see you!”

“Are you okay?”

“Just about.”

He stared down at the blood pouring from her left hand and saw at once that she was missing several fingernails. “Who did this to you?”

“Pig, under the orders of Zhou.”

“Where the hell are they?”

“They left me here when they heard the alarm.”

Hawke hurriedly untied her, staring in horror at the damage to her fingers. He ripped away a section of his shirt and wrapped it around the bloody mess. “You’ll be okay, Lex. We’ll make sure of it.”

“And now let’s get out of here,” Scarlet said.

They raced up the steps and reached the corridor, but this time it was teeming with soldiers.

Devlin said, “Looks like we’re in deep shit.”

“You think?” said Scarlet.

“If you think getting out of the Torture House is hard,” Lexi said, still breathing hard from the torture and gripping the cloth around her hand. “Imagine how hard it will be to get out of China.”

“Thanks for that, Lex,” Hawke said. “You always know how to cheer me up.”

The soldiers streamed down the staircase and raced down the long corridor toward them.

Scarlet cracked her knuckles. “This is it, ladies.”

“Just the five of us versus fifty PLA soldiers,” said Reaper with his famous shrug.

“They don’t stand a frigging chance!” Devlin said.

Hawke shook his head. “Where to start?”