I have so many questions, and it all becomes clear when I sit at my computer and click on the desktop folder labeled READ ME FIRST.
The top of the PDF document contains a picture of my team’s last manager. Expecting the classic headshot, I gasp at the image of him hanging by the neck over the villa’s rose garden.
Why in the world did his people want him dead? Replacing the lead dramatically affects the timeline. Perhaps he was incompetent. Surely, he didn’t deserve to die.
Shaking, my fingers scroll past the image. I tap on the first link, which opens the world’s most popular planning application. In the primary file, I read about delayed shipments and internet outages. Worse yet, the scientists are intent on blaming each other rather than finishing their assigned tasks. Were it not for the looming death sentence, I’d laugh at this classic example of bad management.
Enthused, I dig into blueprints and software designs and read everything. GPS runs on a completely different grid, and disabling it is nothing like my experience with RF weapons.
Fake it until you make it, baby.If I play my cards right, I’ll be rescued before my incompetence shows.
Hours later, Ledbetter taps me on the arm. I must’ve fallen asleep at the computer because my neck aches and my forearms have red marks where I rested my head.
The child-slaver rolls a chair beside me, raises his brows, and scowls. “Impressive.”
What’s going on? Does he want the other team to win?
While I study his face, he reaches for my hand, squeezes so hard my eyes water, and tugs my knuckles to his lips. When he tongues between my fingers’ webbing, I resist the coming wave of puke. Remembering my goal, I allow him to suck my fingers, then turn my head when he tries to kiss me.
Pretending I missed his overtures, I point at my monitor. “These supplies are over three weeks late. If you can get them to us, I’m sure I can have us back on schedule by the end of the week.”
He reaches into his pocket for his reading glasses, peers at my screen, then frowns. “I had no idea. I will see to it.”
“Can you do it now, please?” The urge to run and hide nearly overwhelms me as he pauses for almost a minute and stares.
After dropping his gaze, he stands. “Next time I kiss you, you will not turn your head.”
Swallowing hard, I nod and remember my goal is to survive until I can be rescued.
Wulf, where are you?
Chapter 21
There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls. ~Unknown
Axel
Babe, stay strong. I’m coming.
Crablike, on my inner knees and elbows, I inch through the muddy steel tunnel linking Lithuania to Belarus. The men ahead of me grunt, their sweat adding to the slick layer of grime. I’ve never been claustrophobic, but in this instance, I may make an exception.
Thoughts of Gwen cause renewed courage to race through my veins. She’s waiting for my rescue. If Ledbetter touched her, he’ll wish we'd put a bullet in his brain. My wrath will have no mercy.
As my backpack bumps into the overhead metal, I flatten further and lift my chin. “How much longer?”
Suds, the ex-Seal, calls back. “Five minutes, max. Scared the pipe might flood?”
“Bugger off, mate. It’s not the water that’ll kill ya, it’s the fuckin' rats.” The Australian chuckles.
Not to be outdone, Wheels, somewhere behind me, adds his two cents. “I just saw one the size of a cat. He’s heading your way. Give it a kiss for me.”
“Already seen it. Reminded me of your mother.” His brother-in-law, Hands, guffaws, and the rest of us groan.
The insults grow worse until a whisp of a breeze wafts over our damp backs. Exhaling an hour’s worth of oxygen-depleted air, I take a deep, cleansing breath.
Pitch black fades to gray. When the pipe tilts upwards, I press my boots to the metal wall to prevent them from sliding.
At the tunnel’s end, Lucky grabs my hand. “Watch out. The pipe’s sharp edge will take your arm off.”
