No help for it, though. Based on Rawls’s estimate, there were too many Tangos out there to neutralize when they had all these damn civilians to worry about. At least Rawls had given them a head start. Maybe his corpsman’s mind wasn’t as scrambled as they’d assumed.
Adrenaline spiking through his veins, he scanned what he could see of the cabin. All empty.
Where the fuck were Amy and her kids?
Toward the back of the cabin came a soft snick. Mac took off in that direction. At the far end of the hall, a previously locked door stood ajar, the keypad that provided access to the staircase beyond flashing red. Apparently the woman had decided to forgo an escort and descended into the tunnels on her own. Torn between irritation and admiration, he paused on the staircase landing long enough to drag the door shut behind him, and then took the long, narrow line of stairs two at a time.
Behind him a click sounded as the lock engaged again. As he neared the bottom of the staircase, a high-pitched childish voice drifted up to him. Amy’s youngest from the sound of it.
A few more steps and he could make out the kid’s words.
“A tunnel? Like in National Treasure? Is there a treasure, Mom? I bet there is! We’re gonna be rich!”
Mac reached the bottom of the staircase as the child squealed in excitement.
“Look at all the guns, Mom! Can I have one?”
The trio must have reached the staging room at the entrance to the tunnel. They’d stashed several pairs of NVDs as well as weapons and boxes of ammo on the steel shelves lining the room.
“Benji, you stand right here. Don’t move a muscle,” Amy said, her voice calm and commanding.
“I’ve got him,” the older boy said, his voice as calm and adult as his mother’s had been.
Mac turned the corner and entered the staging area to find the older boy dogging his younger brother while Amy shoved pistols and equipment into a duffle bag. She turned her head long enough to scan Mac as he crossed the threshold, and then turned back to the shelf.
“How many?” she asked, as she shoved boxes of ammo and bottles of water into the bag.
After a quick glance at the two boys, he shrugged. “Nothing that we can’t handle,” he said in an easy voice. No sense in alarming the youngsters.
Although any handling, and/or mop-up, would have to wait until after they stashed the civilians someplace safe. Too fucking bad the bastards hadn’t attacked later in the day, after they’d loaded the women and children onto the helicopter and removed them from harm’s way.
He punched the access code into a second keypad—the one that allowed access into the tunnel system itself. After a loud click, a hiss of escaping air sounded and the door eased open. He shoved it the rest of the way, revealing the concrete tunnel.
“Here.” Amy handed him a flashlight. As she passed it to him, she leaned forward and dropped her voice to a whisper. “How many are out there?”
Chills shot from his scalp down to his ass when her warm, toothpaste-spiked breath brushed his ear. He jerked hard, forced down his instinctive urge to retreat, and stayed put.
“Unknown.” Something sweet and clean teased him. He drew in a deep breath before realizing the scent was drifting from the bright red strands of hair almost brushing his cheek. He locked down the impulse to lean in closer and fill his lungs with the fragrant scent again.
Her hair? He wanted to smell her hair? Jesus Christ, he was pathetic.
Grimacing, he accepted the NVD she handed him. “Rawls estimated twenty-five, but he took down three.”
Amy shot him a surprised look. “Rawls?”
“Yeah. He stumbled across them this morning.” He shrugged at her questioning look and took a casual step back. “He slept out there last night.”
And damned if that decision, which he’d been so disgusted about twelve hours earlier, hadn’t saved their collective asses.
“You ready?” He turned the flashlight on and aimed it into the gaping black maw of the tunnel before waving her boys over. “I’ll lead, you bring up our six.”
He waited for her to turn on her own flashlight and guide her youngest into the steady beam of silver before stepping inside the mouth of the tunnel and dragging the door shut behind him. It sealed with a heavy click and the hiss of escaping air as the lock engaged.
A thick, claustrophobic pressure cinched around them.
It didn’t occur to him, until he turned around, that he’d made one hell of a mistake.