She clenched her jaw, looking less than impressed. “Just don’t freaking die on me.”
She stared a bit longer, looking as if she might tiptoe up, kiss him, before she rolled her shoulders as Wynn wedged herself in beside Neve.
He clicked the latch, met her gaze. She nodded, fingers locked around the wire cage, their boots ringing off the grated floor as he moved into position, gently released the brake.
A sharp squeal joined the hum of the generator, the scent of rust and old grease rising off the cable as the cage rattled, twisting back and forth a few times. A heavy vibration shook through the lever as the cable pulled taut over the top pulley a good thirty meters above him, the wiry cage slowly inching upwards.
The cable shook, the brake grinding a bit on the wire as the counterweight moved down. The entire rig looked as if a strong wind would topple it. Coulter worked the brake, ribs screaming a bit from the force of holding the wheel open, the old mechanisms fighting to roll. The brake slipped a few times, jerking the cage as it shot up a foot then bobbed in the air, a few of the cable filaments fraying from the force.
The spotlights shifted, one panning within several feet of him before stopping, swinging back. He kept his focus divided between the cage and the yard, aware that he’d have to release the brake if he wanted to fire.
Not a chance in hell he’d compromise Neve and Wynn’s safety to save himself. As long as he could work the system, he’d stand there, take whatever hits were aimed his way until they reached the upper platform.
The cage kept moving, rising five meters, then ten, slowly lifting out of the pit, heading for those catwalks still twenty meters above them. Silence settled over the yard, nothing but the steady click-clack of the guide rails sounding in the dark, the occasional creak from the wind.
A few shadows moved across the gravel floor, a man’s voice calling out to a teammate when the cage shuddered, a sickening ping cutting through the night. The cable shook, a gut-wrenching grind vibrating through the lever as the counterweight dropped, and the wire jumped out of the groove.
The cable snapped, wedging the line between the pulley and the steel housing, catching the cage before it crashed to the floor. The feedback wrenched the lever out of Coulter’s hand, sent him tumbling forward. He caught himself on the wheel housing, bracing his weight when a deafeningcracksplit the night, the counterweight looming overhead. It spun, the metal arm high above screeching before asnapechoed around him, a large shadow quickly plummeting toward him.
Coulter dove for cover just as the concrete weight impacted into the ground, shearing metal and rock, exploding with a concussive wave of dust and shrapnel. Rock and gravel blasted over him, choking out the air, the entire op blowing up in a matter of seconds.
The earth-shattering boom echoed across the quarry, shaking the ground until he felt it clear to his molars. The cage twisted above him, creaking in the wind, friction the only thing keeping it from free falling to the ground. An alarm blared, sounding above the ringing in his ears as he dug himself out of the crater, skin covered in dirt, his vest a patchwork of metal shards.
One of the spotlights stopped moving, swung back toward the cage, caught it inside a circle of yellow light. Men shouted from above, the first suppressed round scything off the wire frame a second later.
Coulter drew his rifle, blinking past the fuzziness as he tried to get a bead on the shooter. But even ignoring the blinding halogen lights and the constantly shifting scenery, he couldn’t defend a position forty feet above his head.
He fired regardless, determined to cover his team when the spotlight flickered, then died, plunging Neve and Wynn into shadows. The other lights blinked a few times, going to half-strength before cutting off, the hum from the generator slowly fading.
The entire camp shut down, the heavy cloud layer blocking out any light as the fog rolled in, the first few drops of rain splattering across the gravel.
Coulter eyed the ladders fifty meters off. No plan, no Hail Mary just determination and a promise to always have her back.
He slung his rifle over his shoulder, slipped on his NVGs, then sprinted for the ladders zigzagging up the rock face in the dark. He’d reach them. One way or another.
All they had to do was hold on.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Pain.
Strumming up through Neve’s temples, adding to the high-pitched ringing in her head. Metal wire slid beneath her palms, a sense of weightlessness making her stomach roil.
She turned, nearly cold-cocked Wynn as the other woman shifted in the tight space, blinking her eyelids open. Neve looked around, the events rushing back with bone-chilling clarity.
The counterweight shifting suddenly. The cable jumping off the track.
Everything spinning and dropping before violently jerking to a stop, slamming them both against the metal cage. There’d been a thunderous boom, dust and debris clouding up around them before everything had settled into a lethal silence.
Wynn groaned, palming her head as she looked around. “This doesn’t seem good.”
Neve shook her head, inhaling when the small motion shook through the lift. “We need to stay very still until I work out what the hell we’re gonna do.”
Wynn nodded, still holding her head when a blinding yellow light lit up the cage, the brightness spiking a jolt of pain through Neve’s head. She raised her arm, tried to block it out as acracksounded in the distance, the resulting ping clanging off the metal.
She turned, covered Wynn as a second shot hit the frame, ricochetting into the cable, cutting through a few of the strands with a terrifying snap. The lift jerked, started swinging in a three-foot arc, a heavy groan moaning through the cable with every rotation. She tried to reach for her sidearm when the light flickered, then died, everything descending into utter blackness.
Neve took a breath, steadied herself, then slowly balanced her weight. She grabbed the latch, waiting until the cage was on a backward arc before flipping it up and easing it open. The hinges protested, an answered gunshot whizzing past their heads and she knew they either escaped or died.
