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“No one likes tight spaces,” said Liffey. “You just happen to be larger than most, so tight spaces remind you of coffins. Just move it along. Look. Mining tools. They must have been down here for a hundred years.”
“Is there a history of gold in this area?” asked Mo.
“No. Not that I’m aware of, but they could have been mining for something else. Look how rusted they are.” The men simply nodded, walking past the tools.
After twenty minutes of walking, they knew they must be pretty far out, possibly close to the mountain. Eazee gripped Liffey’s shoulder.
“Do you feel that? Do you hear that? It’s water. I feel a cold, damp spray blowing at me.”
“An underground spring?” frowned Mo.
“Maybe. Maybe it was designed to protect whatever was kept down here.” As they moved closer to the sound, they felt the spray more pronounced, then walked into a massive cavern with an underground pool and small waterfall.
“It is an underground spring,” said Cowboy. “It’s nice. I wonder if they knew it was here.”
“They knew,” said Bogey, pointing to the steel boxes against the wall. All had skull and crossbones on them, the universal sign for poison. Beside them were cases of weapons, the locks so old they were rusted.
“This shit has been down here a long time,” said Tanner. “It’s not just the bioweapon he’s after. He wants all the other weapons as well.”
Eazee stood near the pool, staring down into the clear water. It was dark, but he could see faint images of something below the water. They’d seen underground pools like this before. Many homeowners purposely built on top of them, believing the pools possessed healing properties for them. By covering them, they ensured that only they would have access to whatever was there. But that wasn’t the case for Sutton.
Kneeling, he brightened his light, hoping to get a clearer image. He got more than he bargained for.
“Holy shit!” he yelped, jumping back.
“What? What’s wrong now?” asked Liffey.
“I think we know what he did with those that went against him. This might be the main reason he wants this house. It proves his ruthlessness.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“We can’t touch the bodies,” said Liffey. “We need to leave all of that as is for the feds when they finally come down here. But, for now, we have to get this shit out of here just in case he finds a way inside. We can’t allow him to have the biochem weapon.”
“Can it be moved?” asked Cowboy.
“I’ve reached out to Erin, Thomas, and the team at G.R.I.P. to find out. It’s the middle of the night for them as well, so we’ll hold for a few minutes. What kind of weapons do we have?”
“Mostly M16s. They’re hardly used at all anymore,” frowned Bogey. “Why would they have those down here?”
“Weapons are weapons,” said Eazee. “If they were selling them to Mexico, Central or South America, no one would care how old they were.”
“We’ve got an answer,” said Liffey. “They can be moved carefully, but they should be delivered to G.R.I.P. to be neutralized and destroyed properly. They’re sending Autumn to pick it up. Let’s get this shit out of here. One problem solved.”
The men moved the cases of anthrax as carefully as they possibly could. It was unstable, but not as much as explosives might be. With the number of men, it was easily moved up the steps and out the back to their vehicle.
Autumn was waiting patiently at the pickup point when the SUV pulled up. The boxes were strapped in carefully to ensure they didn’t move.
“Fly slow, baby,” said Cowboy, kissing his wife.
“I know what I’m doing,” she smiled. “Go finish this and bring Brooke home.”
By the time they were back at the inn, the sun was rising over the horizon. They weren’t looking forward to being cramped in the tiny room but were thrilled that Matt had been able to get the rooms on either side, not caring that they were being redecorated. They couldn’t sleep in them, but no one else would be in them either. They just told the inn that they needed a quiet space to work.
“We got the biochem weapon,” said Liffey. “And we discovered a nice underground spring that holds most of Sutton’s dead friends, I think.”
“Shit, we’ll have to dredge that,” said Brooke.
“Someone else can dredge that. We have to find out who’s keeping that house spotless, in spite of it being locked tighter than Fort Knox.”
