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With those words, the bike skidded, taking a sharp right into a tight alley. She gasped as her knee lightly skimmed the old brick while they drove straight toward the walled-off end of the alley.
“Striker!” She clenched her eyes shut tight. They were going to die.
She waited for the inevitable crash. It didn’t come. She opened one eye and looked over her shoulder. There was nothing behind her but the telltale shimmer of a holo-shield where the wall should have been. Fake. The wall had been fake. Just an electronic projection meant to fool the eye.
“No faith.” Striker shook his head as the bike stopped suddenly. “Get off.”
The alley was narrow, with barely enough space to stand beside the bike.
“You know what to do,” he said to the space behind her.
She spun to find a man and a woman. They were tall, dressed in black, and clearly amused. The woman smirked at Friday.
“You sure she’s worth it?” she asked Striker.
He ran a hand over his bald head. His white teeth shone in the dim light. “I hope so. Come on, chère.” He nodded at the huge man as he took her hand. “See you back at camp.”
The giant grunted, climbed on the bike, and revved the loud engine. The woman climbed on behind him. A second later, the bike roared forward through another shimmering holo-shield, which projected the image of a solid wall. Friday looked up. The wooden beams overhead seemed real. They also stopped anyone flying over from spotting them.
“Let’s go.” Striker pulled her toward a door cut into the wall of one of the buildings. It led to a narrow staircase that went steeply down into the earth.
“Your friends are decoys.”
He raced down the stairs, dragging her after him. “Yep.”
“The walls, they were camouflage—holo-shields. Was the roof real or another holo-shield?”
“It was real.”
They reached the bottom of the stairs, where he opened a reinforced door—twenty inches of steel. A tunnel lay behind it. It was narrow, barely wide enough to fit Striker’s shoulders, and the ceiling skimmed his head. She silently said a prayer of gratitude that she wasn’t claustrophobic.
Her mind distracted her from the small space by working on other problems. “They’ll detect the energy signature from the holo-shields. They’ll know where to look.”
“Not until they’ve chased the bike for a while.” He still held her hand tight in his. For some strange reason, Friday didn’t want him to let go. “And if they do find the shields, as soon as they open the door in the alley, the staircase will blow. They won’t find the tunnel.”
“You sound awfully confident.” And she wasn’t sure it was merited.
“We set up this escape route when we started using Glen’s dive bar as a meeting point a couple of years ago.” He glanced at her, clearly amused. “This isn’t the first time we’ve had to use it. And, if the assholes don’t blow it up, it won’t be the last. This isn’t my first rodeo, chère.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
He just laughed, which was seriously irritating. Her life was on the line and the guy was amused.
“You know that’s rude, right? Every time I say something, you laugh.”
“Really? You’re taking issue with my manners? We’re about a hundred feet below ground, running from men with guns, and you’re annoyed with my attitude. Is it any wonder I laugh?”
She scowled at his back but vowed to keep her mouth shut. “Does this tunnel run under the border?” Drat, that vow didn’t last long.
“They monitor the earth under the wall. You can’t tunnel th
ere.”
So where did the tunnel go? Why were they using it? How were they going to get past the wall?
There was more chuckling. “I can hear you thinking. That brain of yours never stops, does it?”
Now he was just trying to irritate her. “Do intelligent women threaten you, Striker?”
