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Dust shot out of Locsin’s refuge. Everyone raised their balaclavas to protect themselves. The sharp tang of pulverized concrete and chlorine aroma of burnt plastic explosive mixed with the smell of diesel exhaust from the Bobcat.
“Those idiots actually did kill themselves!” Max sputtered.
Juan wasn’t so sure. It didn’t fit Locsin’s profile. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Juan got to his feet and crept around the corner, his rifle at the ready. He was still getting the feed from the Crawler and hadn’t seen anyone coming through the hole.
The six of them kept low as they made their way down the tunnel. When they reached the Bobcat, they used it and the trailer for cover.
Max readied one of the tear gas canisters, but Juan put up his hand.
“I want to get a look inside first. Hand me the Crawler.”
Max drove the Crawler to Juan, who picked it up. The area in front of the hole was too rough for the ROV to navigate, but if he could get close enough, he could place it on smoother ground near the opening.
He told the rest of them to cover him while he made his way forward. When he reached level ground, he put the Crawler down, and Max took over.
He maneuvered the Crawler to the hole, where the camera finally had a look inside the chamber.
The air was heavy with dust, and pitch-black except for a blurry trail of flashlights at the end of the chamber. One by one, they winked out as if they were being switched off.
“A trap?” he said, looking at Max.
Max furrowed his brow for a moment, then his eyes went wide.
“They’re getting away!”
“Where?”
“They must have been blowing another hole at the opposite end of the chamber. I remember the schematics now. That’s close to a lateral that leads to the main tourist tunnel.”
Juan took a flashbang grenade from his belt and chucked it through the hole just in case Locsin had left any of his men behind to set up his own ambush.
The grenade went off and Juan dived through the hole, sweeping the tunnel with the flashlight attached to his assault rifle.
Just as he had expected, two men had been crouching behind overturned tables. Now they were staggering around as they clawed at their eyes.
Juan followed Julia Huxley’s advice and didn’t take any chances. He shot each of them in the head. They both fell to the floor, their guns clattering on the concrete.
He checked the remainder of the chamber before yelling, “Clear!”
The rest of them hustled through. Max was last and focused his attention on papers that were strewn about the floor.
“These might be important.”
Juan said, “You collect what you can find and meet us at the Gator.” The lifeboat extraction was no longer possible.
He didn’t wait for an answer and waved for Eddie, Raven, Linc, and MacD to follow him as he raced toward the point where Locsin and his men had escaped.
Juan poked his head briefly through the fresh hole in the wall and didn’t draw any fire, so he jumped through and ran toward a dim light he could see a hundred feet ahead.
He emerged in the main twenty-four-foot-wide Malinta Tunnel. People were running in both directions to the exits at either end of the tunnel while clusters of terrified tourists cowered on the ground, some of them nonetheless taking videos with their phones. When they saw Juan and the others dressed in police uniforms, s
everal of them pointed toward the tunnel entrance that led to the tail end of the island and shouted.
“Men with guns!”
“Terrorists!”
