Bash lifted the guard he had stripped onto Sean’s bed, bound him, and then covered him with the blanket. The sheets had been sacrificed earlier for Bash’s “rope.” The Bash gestured at the guard Sean had stripped.
“Take his legs, and we’ll get him into the other cell,” Bash directed, and Sean followed his instructions, grunting slightly as he helped lift the man’s unconscious body. Bash quickly used some of the rope he’d made to bind this guard’s hands and feet to the legs of the cot as he had his companion, stuffing another wad of fabric into the slack mouth before covering him up as well. While they dealt with the guards, Sean realized Bash wasn’t a wanton murderer. It would have taken less time to snap the guard’s necks and leave them than to tie them up, but Bash didn’t seem to begrudge the minutes it cost. It was a small thing, perhaps, but it reinforced Sean’s instincts that Bash was a good person.
Bash retrieved the guitar strings and his makeshift rope, and then he made certain the cells were locked. He turned to Sean, a predatory gleam showing in his eyes, even in the dim light.
This part was almost as hard as the waiting had been. They left the cell block — Bash locking the big door with the keys he’d taken from the guards — then walkedslowlyin the direction of the unguarded windows. Sean wanted to run, wanted to dart his gaze around to see if there were eyes watching them from the shadows, but Bash had told him it was vital that they didn’t draw attention to themselves. Bash thought it likely there were security cameras on this level, even if there hadn’t seemed to be any in the cell block, but they couldn’t risk even looking around for them. So Sean did his best to imitate Bash and kept his gaze straight ahead, expecting to hear shouts and running feet chasing after them to haul them back to the cells at any moment.
“You’re doing fine,” Bash said, his voice just loud enough for Sean to hear. “Don’t hurry, but get ready to run in case someone comes out to challenge us.”
“Right.” The word came out breathless, and Sean swallowed against the dryness in his throat. His palms, conversely, were sweating inside the uniform’s tactical gloves.
“It won’t be long,” Bash continued, his tone soothing, as though he was well aware of Sean’s mounting anxiety. “One step at a time. By the time this is over, you’ll be an old pro.”
Somehow Sean doubted it, but he appreciated Bash’s steady voice. Bash sounded as relaxed as though they were taking a casual stroll in the park rather than escaping from prison, and if he was worried about one or both of them possibly getting killed, he didn’t show it.
Footsteps sounded from a hallway ahead, and Sean almost stumbled, but caught himself before he fell. Bash put a hand on his arm, giving it a brief squeeze. “It’s all right. They’re headed in the other direction. Come on, it shouldn’t be much farther.”
To Sean, the corridor seemed endless, but after an eternity, they reached the expanse of windows overlooking the drop to the ground. There were six wide stretches of glass, which were closed now but could be opened to swing inward. In between each window, there were small settees, faced by others on the opposite wall.
“Just stand there and look outside, and keep your ears open,” Bash instructed, taking a step closer and putting his hands on the window ledge, leaning over slightly as though he were taking a quick break. But then Sean heard him mutter.
Sean glanced to one side of their position, then the other. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s a magnetic sensor on the window,” Bash said. He lifted his arms over his head, as though stretching, then lowered his right hand and scratched idly at his waist. When he leaned forward again, Sean caught the glint of one of the guard’s knives in his hand, though he hadn’t seen Bash draw it. “Turn around, prop your hip on the ledge, like you’re loafing. God, I hope the guards I knocked out were slackers, or someone will notice.”
Sean crossed his arms over his chest as he pressed one hip back against the ledge. “Did you see any cameras?” He turned his head to one side as though he had a crick in his neck and risked a quick glance at the walls opposite their position.
“No, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there.” Sean heard a scratching sound, then Bash sighed softly. “I scraped the adhesive off the part holding it to the sensor to the sash. We’re going to go fast now, just like I told you. I’m going to tie the rope to the leg of this sofa, open the window, then toss it out. I want you to grab it and go over. Don’t look, Sean. Don’t think. Just climb out like you’re a teenager trying to get out of your boyfriend’s bedroom before his parents come in the door.”
Despite the danger of their situation, Sean chuckled softly. He didn’t know if Bash was as confident and badass as he portrayed, but if he felt any doubt or insecurity, he hid it very well. Whether or not it was an act, it helped Sean to look at the coming descent with something just short of sheer terror.
Bash pulled the coil of braided sheets from beneath his body armor. “This is going to happen fast. Ready?”
Sean wasn’t, but he nodded. “Ready.”
Kneeling quickly, Bash tied the end of the rope to the leg of the heavy sofa, then rose and pushed the window open. He threw the coil out into the darkness. “Out you go.”
He might not be in as good shape as Bash, but Sean worked out to keep himself fit, and he’d done some rock climbing back in his teens. He grasped the rope and sat down on the window ledge.
“Don’t look down,” he murmured, as he pushed off the ledge and spun, bracing his legs against the outer wall of the palace. The rope was thin, but he could feel it well enough through the palms of his gloves, and he was glad Bash had insisted that he wear them to protect his hands from abrasion.
“That’s it. Now go,” Bash said.
Sean walked slowly backward down the castle wall, letting the rope slide through his hands bit by bit. Bash had tied knots at approximately one meter intervals along the length, and as he descended, Sean counted, waiting eagerly for the bump in the rope to tell him he was getting closer to the ground. He looked neither up nor down, but concentrated on the wall ahead of him, which merged after five meters with the rougher stone face of the bluff, and the going became a little trickier. Bash had told him to kick as few rocks as possible out of the bluff, since Sean couldn’t be certain what was below, and Sean tried to be careful. Unfortunately, it was difficult to avoid sending a small rain of pebbles down in his wake, and Sean could only hope he wasn’t drawing too much attention with the noise.
Fifteen meters, then twenty, and suddenly there was a jerk on the rope, and Sean tightened his hands around it as it was almost yanked from his hands. Sean glanced up, wondering if the sofa the rope was tied to had slipped, but what he saw was even more alarming; a dark form came rapidly over the window ledge and scrambled downward much faster than Sean had done. In alarm, Sean looked down, not knowing how far he had before reaching the rocks at the bottom of the bluff, and he almost cried out in relief when he realized he was nearly at the bottom. He didn’t know if the person coming after him was Bash or a member of the guard, but Sean wasn’t about to be taken back after coming so far. Not caring about anything but getting down as fast as possible, Sean almost jumped the two meters, landing hard before sprinting down the more gentle part of the slope as though his life depended on it. His boots crunched on the loose gravel and larger stones threatened to trip him, but he didn’t slow down.
He glanced back once, seeing the other person on the rope rappelling down like a mountain climber trying to escape an avalanche. There were faces at the window, and the angry voices reached Sean over the sound of his own descent. Then came the sharp crack of gunfire, before another, louder voice barked an order to stop, but by then Sean wasn’t looking any longer. He’d seen Bash — for Bash it had to be — had reached the bottom and was sprinting after him, and by the time Sean reached the first of the houses of Nineveh, Bash was right beside him.
“Good job! Now pick up the pace. This way!”
Sean was quite willing for Bash to take the lead, and he stayed right on Bash’s heels. He wasn’t much of a runner, but the adrenaline coursing through his system kept him going. He focused on following Bash as he wove through streets and between buildings until Bash rounded a house and stopped so suddenly Sean bumped into him.
“Hot damn. There’s our ride.”
Sean glanced around Bash, his eyes widening at the sight of a pickup truck parked in the alley between two houses. It wasn’t a large truck, but it had huge tires with deep treads and extra lights arrayed across the roof. Even in the dim light coming in from the street, Sean could see it wasn’t new, but Bash was looking at it as though it was a pile of gold ingots.
“A Toyota Hi-Lux. Best damned truck ever built, especially the older ones like this. It’ll get us where we want to go. Better in the desert than a camel.”
