Scout took lead, clearing the corridor, keeping the pace measured but steady. Wynn had Archer’s arm slung across her shoulders, bracing his weight as they followed the tunnel, stopping when Scout held up one fist — killed her flashlight as she removed her goggles.
Neve followed suit as she shouldered in beside her, taking in the scene in a single glance — lantern bathing the room in warm yellow light as one of the mercs messed with the locker, what looked like several bars of sweating dynamite lined up in a row. She made a few hand signals, traded her gun for one of her tactical knives, then moved out, staying low, planting each step softly on the dirt.
The guy kept working, handling more of the compromised sticks, acting as if any slight disturbance wouldn’t set the damn things off. The reason she’d opted for a blade. That a stray bullet could ignite the nitroglycerin beading on the sides.
She closed the distance, playing through how she’d react if he turned before she got within striking distance, when he paused, moved — took three steps toward her in the space of a heartbeat. She dodged his first strike, catching the next in the cross of her arms, landing a hard kick to his groin followed by a solid roundhouse to his jaw. He stumbled back, then returned, one hand fisted around her throat before he bodily lifted her off the ground, tossed her across the room.
Dirt and stones bit into her shoulder as she hit the ground, rolled with the force. Pain sparked through her torso, pounding up and into her head as she rose onto her feet, the room washing in and out of focus, her breath escaping on a sharp hiss. Scout stepped forward, but Neve shook her head, moving between the soldier and her crew.
The creep drew his weapon, glanced at the surrounding structure, then holstered it. “Wouldn’t want to bring this place down before it’s time.” He grinned as he cracked his knuckles. “This should be fun.”
He attacked, closing the distance far too fast, hitting with the force of a hammer. She deflected what she could, taking a brutal strike to the ribs in order to get close, stab him in the shoulder. Blood welled up from the puncture wound, staining his shirt, as he glared at her.
She lunged again, blade glinting off the rust-covered oil lantern he’d positioned beside the locker — an epic catastrophe waiting to unfold. If they knocked it over, hit the TNT…
The asshole didn’t seem to care about any negative outcomes, dodging her strike, then grabbing her by the arm and throwing her over his shoulder. She landed hard, bouncing once, stopping way too close to the dynamite. She looked at the sticks, at the glistening fluid beading along the outside, then back at him.
The guy laughed. “You don’t have the balls. Besides, chances are, we’ll all go up.”
She scrambled to her feet, grabbed a stick, praying it didn’t explode in her hand, then tossed it at the bastard. He inhaled, juggling it as it landed on his chest, smears of fluid staining his vest before he stopped moving, his breath a harsh rasp in the thick air. He snorted, looked up before his head snapped back, his body folding onto the ground in a crumpled heap, the dynamite lying loosely across one palm. Blood pooled beneath his head, her blade centered between his eyes.
Neve leaned against the locker, pain burning white-hot beneath her skin. She let her head fall against the corrugated metal wall, everything still shifting left and right.
Wynn snapped her fingers in front of her, tsking as she shone a light in her eyes. “Are you insane?”
Neve grunted, batting away Wynn’s hands when she reached for the straps on Neve’s vest. “Did you see how strong he was?” She closed her eyes, shoved down the pain. “No way I was winning that fight.”
“Which is why you should have just shot the bastard from the start. You don’t miss.”
“I wasn’t worried I’d miss. I was worried he’d fall on the dynamite. Set it off. Or knock over the oil lamp and kill us all.” She blew out a shallow breath, her ribs protesting every movement. “I couldn’t chance it.”
“But tossing one at him was a better option?”
“Seemed like it at the time.” She pushed off, ignoring the way Wynn huffed, muttering about how Neve was worse than Archer, then crouched beside the explosives. “Damn, he already rigged the stash to blow. Probably the reason they were herding us deeper into the mine.” She rose, ushered Wynn toward the ladder, the numbers already counting down. “Climb. Now. Because in three minutes, this entire cave will be nothing but dust.”
CHAPTER TWO
Neve ushered her teammates over to the wooden ladder bolted into the far wall — what looked a thousand times worse than the metal one they’d descended. Splinters poked out in every direction, some of the rungs cracked in half.
Scout scurried up first, weapon scanning the darkness as the others followed after her. Neve took point at the entrance, counting down the seconds in her head, when shadows moved at the edge of the lantern’s glow.
She cracked off half a dozen rounds, had those shadows scattering before she grabbed a flash bang and tossed it down the tunnel — prayed it didn’t bring the upper level down on top of her. The canister skipped across the dirt, spinning to a halt twenty feet up the passageway, voices shouting at everyone to move before it blew, reducing the corridor into a wash of light and sound.
Neve retreated, hit the bottom of the ladder a few seconds later, the high-pitched whine still ringing in her ears. She caught her balance, started climbing, carbine pointed toward the ground, that timer counting down in her head.
She reached her team a level from the surface, a circular patch of gray light drawing them up, Scout’s silhouette blocking out the right side. She tugged Zadie over the edge, then leaned back in, reaching for Kane when their time ran out, everything exploding with a deafening roar.
The ladder shook, parts of the vent walls breaking off, taking a section of the rungs with it. Kane slipped as the ladder yawed to the left, dropped a few feet, his body swinging one way, before snapping back, a heavy thud vibrating through the wood. He grunted, his legs hanging oddly still for a moment before he planted them onto the next stable rung as Neve shoved from below. The ladder cracked down the center as a plume of smoke and fire flashed past the bottom, a column of it shooting up toward them.
One final heave, and Kane popped free, Wynn following him out as Neve scrambled up the last few feet, using the wall to propel herself over the lip. She hit the ground, tumbling down the side as fire shot out the opening, dust and ash spewing into the air. Rain stung her skin, the blast still echoing across the mountainside, the loud roar fading into the next roll of thunder. Night eclipsed the landscape, the darkness swallowing the sharp edges just like inside the mine.
A breath.
That’s all she allowed herself before she pushed onto her hands and knees, the air burning a line down her chest. She crossed over to Kane, frowned at his tight lips and furrowed brow, one hand pressed against his back before he jerked it away, fisted it at his side.
She nudged Wynn. “Everything okay?”
Wynn grunted. “He took a hard hit?—”
