what was keeping them so damn quiet? Were they afraid to speak, or was there an outside factor that was keeping them silent? Something, perhaps, like an armed guard? That would explain a lot, he reasoned. Plus, it would clarify the presence of their light. Payne figured if the slaves were hiding, then they wouldn’t be dumb enough to use a lantern. That would be an obvious giveaway in this deadly game of hide-and-seek.
No, the slaves’ silence, coupled with their ill-advised use of a light, suggested only one thing: Someone was trying to get these people noticed.
Thankfully, Payne was way too intelligent to fall for the ploy—especially since he’d taught the maneuver to many of his men during their initial training. And since he had taught the tactic, he knew exactly how to beat it.
“Yoo-hoo!” he called loudly. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!”
Several seconds passed before Payne heard the reply he was expecting.
“Captain Payne?” shouted Haney, one of the missing MANIACs. “Is that you?”
“It sure is, princess. I’ve come to rescue you from the evil dungeon. Are you alone?”
“No, Kokoska’s with me, but he’s unconscious. He took a bump on his head during the first blast. He’s been fading in and out ever since.”
Despite the conversation, Payne moved forward cautiously, just in case he was overlooking a foot snare or something more diabolical. “And the prisoners? Where’d you find them?”
“In a basement cage. Can you believe that shit? They’d be buried under tons of rubble right now if we hadn’t gotten to them. The assholes were just planning on leaving them in there with tiny bombs strapped to their legs.”
“Tiny bombs?” he asked. “Were they silver?”
“Yeah!” Haney showed his face and held up one of the devices to prove his point. “How’d you know their color, sir?”
Payne grabbed the explosive with disgust. “They used the same thing on the Plantation.”
After taking a few seconds to examine the mechanism, Payne smiled at the hostages, trying to reassure them that their lives were about to return to normalcy. None of them smiled back, which wasn’t surprising. As a group, they’d been through so much in such a short amount of time that Payne knew it would take more than a smile for any of them to start trusting the world again. He realized it would take love and friendship and a shitload of therapy to get them back on track, but he hoped that they’d be able to get over this eventually.
“Sir?” Haney blurted. “What’s the status topside? Did everyone make it out okay?”
Payne shook his head. “Chen’s resting in the tunnel behind me. He took a nasty fall into the moat, but he’ll live.”
“What about Ariane? Did she get out all right?”
Payne took a deep breath. “Unfortunately, that still remains to be seen.”
“Sir?” he asked, slightly confused.
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m confident she made it out before the blast. But my guess is there are still some loose ends that need to be taken care of before she’ll be completely free.” Payne paused in thought. “Thankfully, loose ends are my specialty.”
JONES tried to reestablish contact with Payne but met with little success. With no more time to waste, Jones decided to change his priorities and forge ahead without him.
“Team one,” Jones uttered into his headset, “what’s your status?”
Shell answered. “We’ve got the Indians surrounded. We can move on your word.”
“What’s the risk to the cowboys?”
“Higher than it was a moment ago.”
The comment bothered Jones, who had lost visuals on Holmes and Greene a few minutes before. “Please explain.”
“Everyone’s dressed the same. Long white cloaks with hoods that cover their faces.”
“Give me the numbers, Lieutenant. How risky are the odds?”
“I wouldn’t bet my dog on ’em, sir.” Shell paused to speak to one of his men before he continued his transmission. “By our count we’re looking at three black and three white, and one of the whites is definitely a woman. And two of the blacks are supersized.”
“The big ones are probably Holmes and Greene. They’re the ones we want the most.”
“Maybe so, but there’s a problem. Their size doesn’t stand out anymore.”
“Why not?”
“The six have gathered in a tight cluster, so it’s tough to tell where one person ends and the next begins.”
“In a cluster? How badly do they blend?”
“They look like a giant marshmallow, sir.”
Jones cursed before he spoke again. “What are you telling me? No go on the snipers?”
“That’s affirmative, sir—unless you can put out the fire. It’s messing up our ability to see.”